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#looking back i think i liked writing this
yuujispinkhair · 3 days
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Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)
Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.
Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos
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Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.
He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.
If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.
Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.
He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.
He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.
You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.
He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.
You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).
You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,
"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."
And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,
"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."
He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.
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Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.
Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.
Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.
You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.
Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.
It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.
But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.
And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.
He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.
You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,
"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"
His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,
"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."
You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,
"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."
"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"
"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."
You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,
"That sounds nice."
Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.
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Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.
Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.
Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.
The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.
Sukuna grits his teeth.
You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.
He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,
"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"
Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.
Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.
He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.
It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,
"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."
And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.
Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.
And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,
"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."
You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.
You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.
You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.
"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."
And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,
"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."
And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.
Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.
He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.
Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.
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Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.
You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.
He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.
But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.
No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.
He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,
"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."
Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,
"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."
You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.
Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.
He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.
"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."
And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.
Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.
The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.
When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.
Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.
This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.
How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?
Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.
He can't say those things, can he?
In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.
And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:
He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.
Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.
You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.
When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,
"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."
Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.
Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.
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Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.
He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.
"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."
And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,
"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."
"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."
And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.
But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.
The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.
You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.
Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.
And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.
He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.
Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.
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Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,
"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."
And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.
He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,
"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."
Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.
Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.
When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.
He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.
But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,
"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."
Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.
He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.
"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"
He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.
All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.
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It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.
Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.
He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.
You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.
And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.
The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.
Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.
And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.
You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.
He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.
You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.
Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.
He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.
You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.
Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.
He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.
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But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.
He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.
And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.
You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.
"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."
You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.
And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.
He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,
"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."
He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.
For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.
The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.
You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.
You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.
Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.
Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.
Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.
Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.
"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."
And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,
"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"
He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.
Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.
"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."
And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,
"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."
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Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.
But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.
But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?
His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.
But things have changed, haven't they?
Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.
"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."
And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,
"Well, you are the exception, baby."
And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.
You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,
"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"
And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.
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Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.
Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."
Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.
Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.
"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."
Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.
"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."
There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,
"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."
Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.
Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,
"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."
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SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)
I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.
And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!
919 notes · View notes
mondaymelon · 2 days
Text
₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader
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— in which two people notice what two people don't .
— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)
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mualani notices it.
"hehe."
and you hear it.
"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"
and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.
with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.
mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:
"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."
.
.
.
ajaw did more than just "notice" it.
"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"
"noisy."
"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"
"once again, ajaw. be quiet."
"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.
well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.
well, you did exactly the opposite.
"no thanks."
"...sorry?"
"i don't need it."
"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"
you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???
naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."
as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.
a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground
kinich looking back (his mistake)
a kiss...?
oh, and two extra.
4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.
...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.
then, this...
.
.
.
"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"
"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"
you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.
"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."
.
.
.
"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."
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(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND
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I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!
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[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic
( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )
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gothgoblinbabe · 3 days
Text
The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)
Logan Howlett x afab!reader
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Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), afab reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!
Read pt.1 here
Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.
Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 
Word Count: 9.5K
divider credit here and here
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It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.
You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.
As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.
You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 
“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.
Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.
“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”
“And If I did?”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.
“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”
You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.
“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “
Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.
“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”
“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.
“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.
“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.
“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”
You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.
Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.
“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 
Ororo wasn’t any better. 
She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.
“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.
Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.
“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”
Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.
After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.
“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”
“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.
“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”
 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 
Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.
After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 
Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 
“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”
You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.
“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”
“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 
You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”
He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”
Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.
“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.
“I love you.”
You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.
“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “
“I love you - I love you, too.”
It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.
A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.
He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.
“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.
“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”
“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”
Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.
“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”
He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”
You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.
“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”
You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.
You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 
But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.
As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.
Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.
It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.
“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”
She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.
“Nah, I'm fine.”
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 
The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.
“And here, this is for you.”
She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.
Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.
“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.
Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”
“I asked you first.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”
He shrugged, “just not interested.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Watch the language, kid.”
“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”
You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 
“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”
You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 
It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.
“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.
“I guess you could say that.”
Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.
“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”
Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.
“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”
You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.
“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.
Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.
“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”
You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 
“Why not?”
Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.
Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous tic.
“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”
“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 
Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.
“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.
Ororo rolled her eyes.
You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.
“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”
He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.
No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.
Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.
“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”
“Ask me what?’
You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.
His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.
“Would you be my girl?”
It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.
“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.
If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 
“No way!”
Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.
“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.
“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.
“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 
“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.
 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”
You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 
“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.
“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”
You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.
“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”
“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.
“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?
“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”
You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.
“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.
You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”
He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”
Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.
You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.
When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.
“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”
You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.
“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 
“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”
You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.
He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 
Christ, he’s hot.
“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”
It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.
“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”
You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 
“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”
His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.
You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.
“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”
Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.
You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 
Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.
“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.
“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”
You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”
“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”
“I think you got your wish.”
You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.
“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slug over his thighs.
“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.
His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 
“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 
“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 
“Yeah? I know you will.”
You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 
“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”
“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.
“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”
You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.
“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.
“ ‘s that what you thought about?”
You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.
“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”
Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.
“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”
He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 
“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”
You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 
“Really?”
Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.
“Please.”
That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.
You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 
Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 
“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.
“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.
He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.
“ ‘s good, baby?”
You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.
“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 
You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.
“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 
“”Fuck, yes, yes -“
You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.
“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.
You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.
You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”
You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”
His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.
“Can I take these off you?”
“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 
When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.
“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.
You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.
“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.
“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.
Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.
“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.
You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.
You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.
“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”
You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”
He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.
“Yeah, I am.”
He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.
You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t.”
His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”
You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.
“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”
“Need me how?”
He really was an asshole.
“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.
“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”
You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.
“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”
He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”
You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.
He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”
He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.
“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”
You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.
“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.
He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.
“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.
“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”
You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.
When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.
He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.
“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”
His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.
“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”
The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.
“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.
Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.
You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.
“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.
You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.
Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.
“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”
“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’
He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”
You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.
“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”
“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.
“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.
“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”
His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 
You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 
“Gonna come for me already, honey?”
You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.
“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.
“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”
You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.
Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.
“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.
You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.
“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.
You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.
“You alright, baby?”
“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”
Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.
“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”
You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.
“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”
He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.
“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”
You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.
You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.
Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 
“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”
His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.
The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.
You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.
“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”
You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.
“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.
You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.
“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”
It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.
“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.��
You just about melted into putty from his words.
“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”
Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.
“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”
“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”
“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”
“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”
“So, is it as good as you imagined?”
“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”
“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”
“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”
You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.
“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”
In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.
Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 
“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 
“Hm? What, baby?”
When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.
Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 
“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”
He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.
You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”
He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 
“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.
“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”
“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”
Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 
“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”
His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 
Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.
His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.
You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.
“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”
As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.
Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.
“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”
The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.
“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.
“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”
It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.
“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.
“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 
You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.
He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.
So fucking pretty
Look so beautiful like this
So perfect
He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.
“Was that good, baby?”
He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 
“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”
He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.
“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.
“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”
You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.
“Logan?”
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!
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whimsiwitchy · 2 days
Text
he's hooked (oneshot)
hugh jackman x actress!reader
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summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.
warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.
authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33
 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 
“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 
Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 
“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 
“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 
“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.
“Yes.” 
“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 
You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 
“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 
“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 
“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.
You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 
The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 
— 
A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:
I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx
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snowballseal · 1 day
Note
Hi! I really adore your writing. You have really caught each guys essences.
If your requests are open, I was thinking of something like how each guy would carry you and in what type of scenario. I thought Zayne would do bridal style and Sylus over the shoulder, but if you see it differently, feel free to do it as you see fit 😊
How they carry you (LaDS)
Note: This was such a cute request!! I had fun writing it, though I definitely rewrote Rafayel's like three times cause I couldn't make up my mind on the scenario. I went with a different idea for Zayne, but I think you'll like it ;)
I really hope you enjoy this! And I hope I wrote them all well. Thank you for the request.
Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.
---
Sylus *over the shoulder*
“My feet hurt,” you grumble.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such cheap shoes,” Sylus hums, voice bordering on between teasing and mocking.
You shoot the man a glare. He gives you a smug smile in return, arms crossing over his chest.
Of course he’s right. But you can’t admit that, not after you made such a fuss about ignoring his warning before the night began. You had been stubborn, maybe a little too stubborn. The restaurant you were going to was just so nice, how could you not wear heels? You wanted to look nice for your date, and they paired so well with your dark cocktail dress. Of course you’d forgotten about how much they hate your feet.
Every step feels like a bunch of nails digging into your feet. Why did you park so far away? Oh right, because you thought the night was so nice, you wanted to take a little walk before dinner…Not your best idea in retrospect.
Another step makes you wince.
Sylus suddenly stops. This forces you to pause as well, your arm curled around his elbow as you walk. You glance at him questioningly, trying to hide the pain, not wanting to bother him further by complaining. Or endure more of his teasing.
But his gaze burns over you intensely. You shift a little, heat climbing up your cheeks, but putting your weight on your other foot only makes that prickling pain shoot up your leg, and you can’t stop your lips from twisting into a light grimace.
For a brief moment, Sylus’ face softens. He lets out a sigh before removing his jacket. Your brow furrows as he slips it around your waist, the warmth of the fabric covering your bare legs.
“Sylus?”
“I’m not so cruel as to make a woman suffer, kitten,” he hums, securing the coat by tying the sleeves. He then leans up to your face, lips quirking up into a smirk. “Especially when she got all dolled up and pretty just for me.”
Before you can blush even darker, you’re suddenly being thrown over his broad shoulder. You let out an undignified squeak, instinctively squirming to try and get out of his grip. You kick your legs, hands scrambling against his back.
“Sylus!”
“Careful, kitten, otherwise I might drop you,” Sylus warns, voice dancing with amusement. His hand slips below the hem of his jacket to curl over the back of your thighs, locking them to his chest. You freeze, heart fluttering wildly. 
What a brute.
Though, there’s really nothing you can do to escape this man. Not that you really want to.
“Sylus, seriously, this isn’t funny,” you still whine, trying to keep face.
“Would you rather walk barefoot?”
Your nose scrunches at the thought. While you are in a nicer part of the city, it still sounds gross. You guess this is the lesser of two evils. Letting out a defeated sigh, you prop your elbows against his back to try to get comfortable. Also trying to ignore how defined his muscles feel against you.
Sylus hums approvingly, “There you go, kitten. Just relax.” 
His hand tenderly squeezes your thigh and you’re actually thankful he can’t see just how red your face is. Probably as red as the wine you had with dinner.
It’s definitely embarrassing. Especially when you pass by a few people, catching their odd stares. But it’s hard to care when Sylus starts massaging your legs, his touch overwhelmingly gentle in contrast to his previous actions. His thumb presses firm circles into your ankle, drawing a breathy sigh from you.
“Feel better, sweetie?” He murmurs, and you can feel his voice rumble through your body.
“Definitely helps,” you breathe, “Though you could have just carried me in a more comfortable way, Sy.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t fun for me,” you grumble petulantly.
Sylus shifts, suddenly putting you down. You blink in surprise when you find yourself sitting on the hood of a familiar car, your lover leaning over you. His fingers trace your leg, grazing up your arm, until he can cup your cheek, bringing your faces so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.
“And how can I make it up to you, my dear?” He purrs lowly, lips grazing yours teasingly.
“Well-” Letting out a shaky breath, you reach up and slip your arms around his neck. A blush still coats your cheeks, but you give him your best innocent look, pouting your lips as you mess with the silver strands at the nape of his neck. “I think a full massage at home might make up for the discomfort. The last one you gave me was pretty nice.”
Sylus quirks a brow in amusement, “Is that all?”
“Nope. I also want you to watch a sappy romcom with me. Then I’ll forgive your brutish ways.”
That breaks the intense air between you. Sylus chuckles, the sound deep and fond, making you smile. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I accept your terms, kitten.”
“Good. Now chop chop, mister! Let’s get home!”
---
Zayne *koala style*
“Darling.”
Your eyes flicker open, eyelids heavy. Letting out a sleepy hum, you drag your blurry gaze to meet a pair of warm, hazel eyes. Zayne kneels beside the car, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek to keep you from falling back asleep. You lean into his touch with a content sound, making him smile.
“We’ve arrived home,” he murmurs, voice quiet, “Would you like me to carry you inside?”
You nod, head still fuzzy with sleep. All you can really focus on is that you don’t want his touch to go away. It feels so nice.
“Alright. Can you wrap your arms around my neck for me, darling?”
You reach out blearily, your fingers blindly finding their way into the soft strands of hair at his nape. Zayne carefully turns you until your legs dangle out of the car, giving him a better angle to slip an arm under you. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, drawing you flush against his chest.
You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, letting out another happy hum as he readjusts you so you can tuck your face into his neck. One of his hands stays secured under you, the other sliding up to hold the back of your neck tenderly.
It’s almost impossible to not fall back asleep like this. Surrounded by his warmth, his fingers massaging your neck so lovingly, the gentle sway of his body as he walks. Your eyes flicker closed again as you nuzzle deeper into your lover.
You love when Zayne holds you like this. Not that bridal style isn’t nice, but this is just so much closer, so much easier for you to wrap yourself around him. Plus you like the feeling of his fingers gripping your thighs, reminding you of just how strong the doctor is. It just makes you feel…safe.
“Wish you’d carry me like this more,” you mumble thoughtlessly into his neck.
“Is that so?” Zayne hums, a small smile curling his lips.
“Mhm.” 
You press a sluggish kiss to his collarbone to show just how much you like it. Zayne’s steps falter imperceptibly. But you notice, a bubbly giggle escaping you.
“Don’t trip, Doctor Zayne,” you tease sleepily.
He pinches your thigh in warning. “Perhaps a certain hunter shouldn’t be so distracting.”
You squeak, pulling yourself further up by his shoulders. Zayne chuckles, palm smoothing over the spot, though he didn’t actually pinch you that hard. Still. You draw back a little to pout at him.
“So mean, Doctor Zayne. What if I bruise?”
“My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, not at all apologetic. You hold your pout, only weakening when he tilts his face up to brush your noses together. “I’ll be sure to treat it once we get inside. A kiss should do, hm?”
God, he’s so perfect. You’re not sure your heart can take it. The warmth behind his eyes, the small, rare show of affection. It leaves a lingering heat under your skin that turns your cheeks rosy pink, and you duck your face back into his shoulder to hide your blush.
“So, so mean,” you grumble.
A fond smile graces Zayne’s lips. If he’s being honest, he likes carrying you like this. He likes how you feel in his arms, your weight, your warmth, the rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s not often you let him take care of you without complaint, so he takes full advantage of when you do. It helps calm whatever deep-seated need he has to look after you.
The fact that you’re so easy to fluster is a mere bonus.
You settle back into a comfortable silence, barely paying attention as Zayne navigates through your apartment complex. You only notice when he shifts his arm further under you so he can fish his keys from his back pocket and unlock your shared apartment.
He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights as he carries you through your home, straight to your room. You grumble as he bends down to set you on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightening around his neck when he starts to draw back.
“Don’t go,” you plead softly.
“Wouldn’t you rather be in more comfortable clothes, sweetheart?”
“‘m already comfy,” you assure him, leaning against his chest, “Just take your pants off and cuddle with me.”
“What a bold patient I have,” he teases, though his voice dips into a low timber that makes you shiver.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor,” you whisper, a little bashful, cheeks going warm again. “Just don’t want you to stop holding me.”
Zayne softens. His fingers trace along your heated cheek, drawing you back just enough so he can lean down and capture your lips in a lingering kiss. You press into him immediately, a delighted sigh passing your lips when he settles onto the bed beside you. When the kiss ends, you tuck yourself back into his side, content once again now that you get your way. A drawn-out yawn escapes you, and Zayne curls his arms around your waist, guiding you so your head can rest against his chest.
“Sleep now, I won’t go anywhere,” he promises softly into your hair.
“Mmm, love you, Zayne.”
“I love you too, my snowflake.
---
Rafayel *bridal style*
“Oh, “ you chirp, cool air washing over you as you step out of the venue, “it’s raining.”
The two of you were attending the opening night of Rafayel’s new exhibit. You’re surprised you didn’t even hear the rain, considering the streets look about flooded already. Puddles collect along the sidewalk, a small river running along the edge of the road. Paired with the rapidly setting sun, it leaves a chill in the air that makes you shiver slightly.
“I like it,” Rafayel hums and drapes an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You glance at him, biting back a smile when he playfully avoids your gaze, as if trying to keep your warm might hurt his “cool” factor. “The smell of the ocean is stronger when it rains, don’t you think? And the puddles look like tide pools.”
“They certainly do,” you giggle, “though neither of us are really prepared for the rain. Should we call a cab? I’d hate to ruin these shoes since you just got them for me.”
You look down at the kitten heels you’d worn for the event. They’re so cute, a soft baby blue color, decorated with little pearls. You remember pointing them out to Rafayel on one of your walks down the pier. They were just so pretty, and reminded you so much of him in a way, but the price was out of your range. Not that it deterred Rafayel, of course, who secretly went back the next day to get them for you.
A pair of shoes really shouldn’t mean that much to you, but every gift from Rafayel feels special. You can’t bear the thought of messing them up.
“Hmm, I think I have an easy solution.”
You let out a squeak when Rafayel suddenly ducks and sweeps you up into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life at the sudden loss of balance. The sound of Rafayel’s laughter rings in the air, light and full of mirth, as he dashes into the rain with you.
“Rafayel!” You squawk and break into your own fit of laughter despite the icy cold rain immediately drenching your clothes. “Rafayel! Put me down!!”
“I’m already carrying you, putting you down would just be more work,” he teases, that infuriatingly charming smile pulling at his lips. “Now you don’t have to worry about the puddles, at least.”
“But we’re still getting soaked!” You squeal, trying to hide away from the rain by tucking your face into his neck. “Why didn’t we just call a cab?”
“A little rain won’t hurt us, yeah?”
“Says the merman. It’s freezing.”
Rafayel chuckles, the sound close to your ear. Warmth blooms across your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your temple, the touch lingering and soft with adoration, making everything slow down for just a moment.
“Then hold me tight.” he whispers, voice dipping to a low rumble that has your heart racing, “Take my warmth. It’s yours, my beloved bride.”
Any remaining complaints get lost somewhere in your throat. The heat under your skin rivals the cold. A dark blush coats your cheeks, and you try to bury yourself against his chest. You can’t hide from him though, your neck just as rosy, and you can practically feel Rafayel beaming with pride.
Stupid fish.
But he is warm.
You let out a wavering sigh, pressing the cold tip of your nose into the warm crook of his neck. Rafayel shivers, but his hold around you only tightens, as if he wants to envelop you in the heat of his body. It’s almost like being held by one of those heat up stuffies. It’s so comfortable, you can’t help but melt into him, fondness for the merman curling deep inside your bones.
“Do you always run this warm?” You murmur and rest your cheek against his shoulder so you can look at his face.
“Not always,” he hums. A stray drop of rain drips down his jaw and you reach to brush it away. Rafayel’s voice shakes almost imperceptibly at the touch, the tips of his ears going red, “For the most part, Lumerians endure harsh, cold temperatures, so we actually run colder than you humans.”
“Then why are you so warm?” You ask curiously.
His blush only spreads, until his cheeks match yours. The artist glances away, almost looking embarrassed to admit, “My fire evol is useful for more than just fighting wanderers, you know.”
Ah. So he can warm himself up with his evol. And he’s doing it to keep you warm.
The revelation fills your chest with a giddy kind of love. Like, a fuzzy, dizzy kind of love. You bite back the urge to keep teasing him, to see just how red he can get. God, how can you love this man so much? Every new thing you learn about him, every surprise he somehow pulls out of his sleeve, leaves you slipping further into the ocean of affection you’re already drowning in. The rain is nothing in comparison.
“I guess you’re my knight in shining armor, then,” you sigh wistfully, “Against the wanderers and the cold weather.”
“That’s right.” Rafayel puffs out his chest a little, almost like a preening bird. A giggle escapes your lips, and he gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You should really thank your knight in shining armor, cutie. Otherwise I might not feel so inclined to swoop in to save you next time.”
“Well, thank you, Rafayel.” In the blink of an eye, you reach up and draw his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a chaste, yet searing kiss. The artist jumps back, eyes wide as he stares down at your mischievous grin. “Even though we could have just taken a cab and avoided all of this.”
His shock quickly turns into a pout.
“You’re no fun, cutie.”
---
Xavier *piggyback style*
“Really, I’m fine, Xav-”
You wince as Xavier gently flexes your foot, hot pain prickling up your leg. The hunter gives you a rather disapproving look.
“You do not have to lie to me,” he sighs and lowers your foot back down, “I will not think less of you for being injured.”
Heat creeps up your neck, and you have to tear your eyes away from his soft, unassuming gaze. It really wasn’t that bad. While fighting a wanderer, you had dodged an attack too quickly, somehow, twisting your ankle in the process. You couldn’t just stop fighting though, so you had grit your teeth through the pain until you finished the wanderer off, and then collapsed on a nearby rock. That’s when Xavier had rushed over to you, asking what was wrong.
You attribute your embarrassment to the stubborn bit of pride you carry as a hunter, so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t often let others do it for you.
“I’m really okay, it’s probably just a sprain,” you grumble, “I’ll ice it when I get home.”
“And how exactly do you plan to get home?”
Your nose crinkles. Right. Glancing back at Xavier, you find him looking at you with a small, rather amused smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. The little punk. He really can be mischievous when he wants to, huh?
But you do not have an answer to his question. So you just shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. You’ll just have to rely on him this time it seems.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
Immediately, your blush spreads up your neck, painting your cheeks rosy and warm. Eyes wide, you look at him incredulously.
“Xavier, that’s- I don’t- What?”
“I can carry you.” The hunter tilts his head, much like an adorable puppy. Your heart flutters at the sight. How are you supposed to resist that?
“I mean,” you hesitate, scratching the back of your neck, “if you think that’s the best solution…”
“It’s the simplest one,” Xavier hums, quickly standing up, pulling you carefully to your feet as well.
He turns around, ducking a little so you can get on his back. You hesitate again, though.
“Are you sure?” You ask, voice wavering.
“Positive.” Xavier looks at you over his shoulder. That gentle smile curls his lips again. “Who wouldn’t want to carry a pretty girl on their back?”
God, you hate him sometimes. Shaking your head, you gingerly step closer. You curl your arms tentatively around his shoulders, careful to avoid his neck so you don’t choke him. Then you jump. Xavier catches you with ease, fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you as he stands up straight again. It only takes a moment for him to find his balance as you get comfortable, your chin tucked over his shoulder.
He hardly seems affected by your weight. Like he’s carrying a light backpack. It eases your consciousness a little.
“I always forget just how strong you are,” you mumble.
Xavier holds back a shiver at the way your breath warms his ear. His fingers tighten around your thighs though, thumbs massaging circles into your skin. You hum softly, facing tucking into the collar of his uniform. This is nicer than you thought it’d be.
“You could take a nap until we reach our destination if you’d like.”
“No,” you sigh, though you do feel suddenly exhausted, “That wouldn’t be fair. I want to keep you company.”
“Mm, okay. Then what should we talk about?” Xavier peeks at you, amusement curling in his chest at the thoughtful pout you give.
“How about…what we’ll get for dinner tonight? We did complete the mission, afterall, we deserve a treat.”
A low chuckle escapes the hunter. Tilting his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.
“Whatever you’d like, my star,” he hums, fondness warming his usually calm voice, “Is there something you have in mind?”
“That new diner opened down the block from us, we could try that!” You suggest, excitement lighting up your features, like a kid in front of a christmas tree. You look at him, smile brighter than any star he could compare you to. “What do you think?”
How could he ever resist you?
“Mmm, sounds delicious.”
“Perfect! We’ll go there then!”
You spend the rest of the walk back to the transit station talking about what dishes you might order, what movie to watch as you eat. Anything and everything. Neither of you notice the odd looks you get, too comfortable to care.
You all but forget about the pain in your ankle. Why focus on that when you can focus on the absolutely charming man willing to carry you all this way?
---
Can you tell which characters I main based on this? Just curious.
554 notes · View notes
sturniqlo · 2 days
Text
Pretty Girl- M.S
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summary: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.
cw: cursing, FLUFF; sweet messages, first meeting, honeymoon stage, kissing, ANGST(very little); second thoughts on relationship(?), past relationship issues, insecurity of not being good enough, social media hate
an: i just love fics where reader is a famous singer :) | very fast paced timeline | as usual, not proofread
masterlist | join my taglist
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"said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."- bed chem, s.c
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matthew.sturniolo 12:47am
hi, you're like really pretty :)
Matt exits out of the dm and scrolls on tiktok for the remainder of the night. He shuts off his phone completely forgetting about the message he had sent to Y/n. There was no way she would respond. Y/n was a famous singer with millions of more followers than him. He had been following her for sometime now, as he had discovered a song- many songs- he really likes from her. Matt also saw his big of a fan Nick was, which introduced him to his favorite songs.
Y/n was currently in New York finding some inspiration from her upcoming album. Usually she resides in LA but she loves being in New York while she writes. It's more homey to her, it was fall after all, her favorite season, the leaves were turning orange and falling off of their branches, landing on sidewalks all over the city, the weather was chillier, she loved it. Back in LA it was many degrees hotter, she couldn't wear her cute cardigans without sweating.
The next morning, Matt woke up to a loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was very close to his room. Groggily he came out of his room and saw his brothers arguing. "I hid the last bagel for a reason because I was going to fucking eat it this morning." Nick angrily crumples up the empty bag the bagel was in. "How was I supposed to know?" Chris argues back, taking a bite of the bagel.
"Do you guys mind? I was sleeping peacefully and I got woken up to you two arguing over a fucking bagel." Matt scoffs. He goes back into his room and shuts the door. He rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed where his phone is laying. As it turns on, he sees a instagram notification. Unlocking it with his face id, he sees Y/n replied to his message. "Holy-" He cuts himself off.
y/n/y/l/n 2:47pm
thank you! you're cute yourself ;)
sorry for the late response it was 3 am when you dmed me haha!
Matt stared at the message opened message with his mouth slightly open. you're cute yourself? He was about to faint. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard thinking about what he was going to say next.
matthew.sturniolo 11:49am
holy shit you actually responded... also thank you :))
sounds like you're three hours ahead of me??
y/n/y/l/n 2:50pm
hahaha
i believe so. i'm currently in new york, i'm assuming you're in the west coast? la possibly?
She responded quickly and Matt's heartbeat only got quicker.
Y/n had spent her morning bright and early. She woke up at around seven am and did her morning which consisted of her morning shower, skincare routine. She ate a bowl of strawberries and blueberries while she answered some emails. About an hour after sending emails and responding to important messages she went out for breakfast.
At her favorite cafe, she ordered her usual bagel and iced coffee and sat down by the window. She ate her breakfast and stared out the window watching people walk by going about their morning. A few fans spotted her as she was leaving so she took some pictures with them. "Excuse me, Y/n?" A soft shy voice said as she exited the bagel shop. She looked back and saw two teenage girls nervously smiling.
"Hey, guys!" She gasped, letting her wired headphones hang. "Hi, we- we uh. Sorry I'm so nervous." Y/n smiled. "Don't be nervous. I promise you it's okay." She giggled and walked closed to them. "Okay, thank you." The one girl sighed in relief. The three of them made a ten minute long conversation. "We're so sorry for taking your time!" One of them gasps realizing how long they've been talking for. "Don't worry about it, it's okay."
Y/n returned to her apartment at around twelve and cleaned up a bit. She'd been in New York for about two weeks now. She took a quick shower and chilled on her phone for a bit. Here and there she liked to go through her instagram dms and respond to some fans. As she was scrolling through, she saw that Matt has dmed her. Y/n has known about the triplets for sometime now, she has watched a couple of their youtube video. And to be honest, Matt had caught her eye those couple of times.
She blushed, she opened the dm and read the message fully. It was sent about eleven hours ago. She responded anyways and she was bold enough to send a second message. Exiting out quickly and scrolled and responded back to some fans who just wanted to say hi or wanted some advice.
Two minutes later, a notification from Matt appeared at the top of her screen. She smiled and opened it right away responding quickly, Matt responded seconds later.
matthew.sturniolo
i am
also, new york? i bet it's beautiful out there now that it's fall time
y/n/y/l/n
it's really is! have you ever been out here?
matthew.sturniolo
yeah, a couple of times actually!
are you there permanently?
y/n/y/l/n
nope, just here to get some writing done :))
matthew.sturniolo
new music im assuming?
y/n/y/l/n
can't say tooo much but yess
Over the few weeks, the two messaged each other everyday and eventually exchanged numbers. As much as Matt wanted to tell his brothers. He wanted to keep his 'relationship' with her hidden for a while and be in this little bubble. Matt really enjoyed messaging her and talking with her on the phone that he asked her if she would be up to the idea of talking romantically and see where it would lead them to. Obviously she said yes.
Y/n had never felt like this, Matt was amazing to say the least and she hasn't even met him. Every morning when she would wake up, a good morning message from Matt would be waiting for her. He'd send her little messages throughout the day when he wasn't filming and he calls her when he knows she's about to go to bed. Yeah, she's had her boyfriends here and there but they were nothing like Matt.
Her past relationships were so public from the beginning to the end they almost felt forced. Anytime they would go out there was always a new article and new pictures about it. There were rumors, allegations, and opinions. And she never dated the best people.
matt
hi pretty girl :)
y/n
hi pretty boyyy
matt
are you busy?
y/n
for you? neverrr
matt
okay, i'm calling you now!
Before Y/n could even type out a response her phone rang in her hands with Matt's contact filling her screen. She immediately answered. "Hi Matt." She put him on speaker. "Hi, pretty lady. How's the writing going?" He asks her. "It's.. going. I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm taking a break." Y/n brings her knees up to her chest and scoots her writing book away from her.
"Anyways, what have you been up to?" She says, pressing the facetime button. He answers it right away. "Nothing much, me and my brothers just finished filming a video." He brings his face into view. "Sounds fun, what'd you guys film?" She smiles. "Just a car video talking about random things."
They talked more for some time until someone interrupted Matt's rant by barging into his room. "And then- do you not know how to knock?" He scolded whoever came in. "Who are you talking to?" She heard Nicks voice. "Don't worry about it, what do you want." Matt huffs. Y/n noticed how he tilts his phone away from Nicks view. "Can you take me to-" Matt cuts him off.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you. Shoo now." He motions his hand for Nick to leave so he can keep talking to Y/n. A small giggle leaves Y/n and Matt looks at her through the phone and she gasps. Nick must've heard her because he also gasps. "Matt! Are you talking to a girl?" His phone is suddenly snatched from his grip.
Nick looks at the screen and Y/n is with wide eyes and a slight open mouth due to her being shocked of what's happening. Y/n knew that Matt wanted to keep this to himself, as well as her. "Oh.. my god." Nick said and quickly gave the phone back to Matt when he saw who it was. Y/n heard Matt's door close and started laughing, so did Matt. "Holy fuck."
"I'm going to let you go, I need to deal with Nick. I'll call you later." He smiled and waved at her. "Okay, let me know how it goes." She waved back.
"Nick?" Matt walks out of his room. "You, as in Matthew Sturniolo, my triplet brother, are talking to the Y/n. As in the famous singer. Fucking Grammy award winning Y/n!" Nick yelled with his eyes wide open. Y/n was probably- no, is- Nicks favorite artist. He couldn't belive it. "Yes, Nick. Is that so hard to believe?" Matt giggles. "Motherfucker yes! How did you of all people bag her?!" "I'm offended?" Matt furrowed his eyebrows.
Matt goes to tell Nick how everything had happened. "Oh my god, I can't believe this!" Nick yelled into his hands. "What's going on?" Chris comes up his set of stairs. "You'll never believe it!" Nick says. Matt- actually Nick- catches Chris up with everything he missed. "Matt, I've never realized how much game you have."
After everyone - Nick- calmed down, they decided to sit and watch a show.
y/n
i'm assuming everything went well?
matt
yes, nick had a moment of starstruckness i guess, but it went well in general
y/n
omgg, he is so me
will he be okay with me following him?"
matt
pls do, i would kill to see his reaction
y/n
okok
Y/n giggled as she went to her instagram and searched up Nicks username and followed him. Across the country, Matt was secretly recording Nick who was unintentionally scrolling on instagram. "No fucking way! She- she just followed me." Nick flipped his phone to Matt. "She just followed me too!" Chris jumped up from his spot on the couch.
matt
*video attachment*
chris was a plus
y/n
hahaha
one month later
"Alright, we have this shirt with these jeans or," Y/n holds up a potential outfit and shows Matt over facetime. "Ok, I like that one." He nods. "There's also this dress." She holds up the material. "That's the one. I like that one." Matt points and she giggles. "Okay." She leaves the frame and comes back in once she's changed into her outfit.
"It's four over in LA right? I still get a bit confused over timezones." She says as she applies her eyeliner. "Yeah, and it's seven for you, correct?" Matt watches intently as she does he makeup. "Mhm, I have to leave in like forty minutes." Tonight she was going to an album release party for her friend, Conan.
"I would love to be in your timezone. Makes it easier to talk to you." Y/n smiles at an idea that popped up in her head. "Would you -I don't know- maybe want to fly out here? I- you don't have to, but it's just an idea." She rambles a bit. "I'd love to actually. But, I'd have to talk to my brothers first, not that I need their approval or anything, just I'm not sure if they'd want to come." He says.
"You could bring them too. It'd be fun either way." She says. As much as Matt loves traveling with his brothers, he'd appreciate it if this trip was just about the two of them. It's be their first meeting after all. "I hope this plans out well, I really want to meet you, officially."
"I'm tryin' to go to New York." Matt blurts out randomly. He had finished his call with Y/n about two hours ago and all he thought about was possibly getting to meet Y/n and spend sometime with her. "Matt flying across the country for a girl? Who would've thought." Chris says. "Shut up." Matt rolls his eyes. "Do you guys want to go? Or?" He says.
Both Nick and Chris looks at each other and shake their head. As much as Nick wanted to go and possibly meet Y/n, he wanted Matt to have his moment. "Nah, we'll let you enjoy your time with her." Nick says and Matt dramatically sighs in relief. "Thank god! I didn't want to take you guys anyways." Nick gasped. "You know what, i'm second thought." Matt shook his head. "Nope, you made up your mind."
matt
guess who's going to new york :D
y/n
no wayy?!? i'm so excited!!!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, clairo, matthew.sturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo and 825,733 others
y/n/y/l/n: i am new york, new york is me
view all 9,372 comments
jennaortega: y/n in new york>>>
| y/n/y/l/n: you get it 🙂‍↕️
y/nfan57: it's y/n's season
y/nfan19: matt liked...
| loser4: okay? so did nick?
sadiesink_: you're so cool
matthew.sturniolo: you
| y/n/y/l/n: me
two weeks later
"I'm by the taxi pickup." Y/n said on the phone to Matt who was somewhere inside the airport. "Is there a sign or something?" Matt was having a hard time looking for the right place. "Uhm... oh yeah, there's a bright green sign that says taxi only. It's pretty big so you can't really miss it." She let out a breathy laugh. "I see it, and I see you." Y/n turned, but still couldn't see him. "Other way, pretty girl." She turned the opposite way and saw him.
"Matt!" She squealed, and ran to him as he dragged his suitcase behind with a huge smile on his face. "Y/n!" He let go of his suitcase and she jumped in his arms. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!" She whispered into his neck. "I can't believe it either." He says and she pulls away from his neck at looks at him. "You're even prettier in person." She blushes. "Stop it! I could say the same thing about you." She places her feet back on the ground. "How was your flight?" She asks. "It was good, except for the guy snoring next to me."
They arrived at Matt's hotel, and he settled in before going out for lunch together. "Okay, my favorite spot to get lunch is here." She says and Matt opens the door for her. "Thank you, Matt." Matt smiles. For the three- almost four hours they've been together, it all felt natural, as if they've known each other for years.
"What do you usually get?" He puts his arm around her shoulders and she smiles at the action. "I usually get the chicken wrap and a mango lemonade." She looks up at him. "I'll get the same." He nods and kisses her forehead. See, natural.
"What do you think?" Y/n covers her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful of her wrap. "It's very good, you weren't lying." Matt says as he goes in for another bite.
For the rest of the day, they walked around the city hand in hand, Matt pointing out at certain billboards in time square.
Later that night, they returned to Matt's hotel where Y/n said goodnight and went home. But, not without a kiss. A first kiss. "I hope you had fun today." She says as she walks towards the door. "Trust me I did. Thank you for today." He says, following behind her. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Matt." Y/n smiles. "For sure." He unhesitatingly grabs her jaw and plants his lips on hers with a gentle kiss.
The room was soon filled with the soft smacking sounds of their lips intertwining with each others. Soon enough her arms ended up wrapped around his neck, with her back against the door and Matt's arms holding her hips. A couple of moments later, they both pulled back gasping for air. "Wow, I- mmph!" Matt was cut off by Y/n putting her lips back on his.
"Okay, I should- I should go now." Y/n pulls away and giggles. Both of them out of breath and their lips red and swollen. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."
The next day, the two of them went out for breakfast and were especially giddy the whole day, sharing kisses, holding hands and small touches. "So, this one is- Matt?" Y/n stops herself. "Yeah, yup. Mhm." He says. "You weren't paying attention were you?" He breaks out in a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, but you're just really fucking pretty." Her cheeks redden up by the compliment.
"Matt!" He grabs her chin and kisses her. "Okay, I'll listen this time, for real."
It was now eight pm and Matt's hand was wrapped around her shoulders as usual. As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/n heard a series of whispers behind them. Her first reaction was to look back, and as she did she saw a flash of a phone.
"Oh my god." Y/n mutters under her breath. "C'mon Matt, let's go." She grabs onto his arm and leads him to the opposite way of the stranger. Matt had noticed the person taking the picture as he also turned his head a little bit after Y/n did and saw how her mood had changed.
"Hey, you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Y/n stands in front of Matt once they've entered her apartment, moving bits of his hair that covers his eyes. "Mhm." He hums. "Matt, you can talk to me. Is it what happened with the person who took the picture?" Matt looked away from her. She had gotten it right. "Matt," She sighs, pouting slightly. "I- are you having second thoughts about this? I just- I don't know." He says. "Hey, no, of course not! It's just- I really like this little bubble we're in right now, with no unwanted opinions." She pauses before continuing on.
"And I know I shouldn't care about what people say about us or anything, but it gets to me sometimes. With my past relationships I feel like the media got involved so much that it ruined them, and- and I don't want that to happen with us. I really like you" She interlocks their hands together. "I really like you too." He gives her a soft smile before pulling her in for a kiss. "Are you okay now? Did I clear something's up." He nods. "Yes, thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it."
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Y/n was right, the internet does have a lot of opinions. After Matt had left Y/n's apartment, even though she had told him to stay, Matt did it nightly call to his brothers before going to bed. When he had woken up in the morning, he went on social media and saw tiktok about the picture and another picture that they didn't know of and and there were many negative comments about his and Y/n's relationship. Specifically about him.
y/nsoulmate: broo... how is she going to go from dating a famous singer/actor to a youtuber💀
soulmatey/n: she should get someone better
ilivefory/n: dare i say it, but she downgraded
slutniolo: why is he dating her? isn't she on her tenth relationship?
y/nismygf: y/n, matt, if you're seeing this just know twitter is rooting and happy for you guys! tiktok police is annoying!!!!!
y/nismommy: he isn't it for her 🤷
prettyy/n: he could never treat her like danny did.. oop
ang3ly/n: y/n, baby, leave b4 u can, he's just going to use u🥴
everythingy/n: not a youtuber
y/nsgirl: why is everyone being so negative? this isn't your guys' relationship to judge or comment on. get a job, get a life!
Although the last comment made him chuckles a bit, the other comments hurt him. Were they right? Yeah, he wasn't on her level of famousness, but was it such a big deal? His phone suddenly rang in his hold as he was too deep in his thoughts. It was a call from Nick. He answered. "Good morning sunshine!" Nick said. "Why are you up so early? Isn't it six am over there?" Matt says. "I haven't slept actually. It's kind of worrying me." Nick laughed as he got comfy on his bed.
"I saw the pictures. How're you guys feeling about it?" Great, something he didn't want to think about right now. "I don't know? She wasn't the happiest when she caught that one person taking a picture, but she gave me her reasons and it was understandable. I didn't realize it at first, but she was totally right. The internet can be harsh, holy shit." Nick furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Matt sighed and got up to sit against his headboard.
"I saw a video and the comments were a bunch of people saying that she shouldn't be with me because i'm not on her level of success, I guess, and that she also downgraded. I mean, what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough for her?" Nick felt bad, he hated that the internet was making Matt have second thoughts about his developing relationship. "Don't listen to them Matt, they're just a bunch of losers. And, you are more than enough for her. I was called her earlier today, yesterday I guess, and she was so excited to tell me what she had planned for you two. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now." Nick reassured him.
As Matt got ready, he thought of what Nick had said. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now. He was right, he is in deep. Matt knew Y/n was going back to LA a week after he was. They'd have all the time in the world to hang out. However, he wanted to be hers.
He was going to ask her today.
"Hi, pretty girl." He kissed forehead once she let him in. "Hi, how was your morning." She closed and locked the door behind him. "It was good, how about yours." They walked into her bedroom so she could continue getting ready for the day. "I had an early morning." She sighs. "I had a last minute meeting, luckily it was short and over zoom." She wraps her arms around Matt. "Hi." Y/n whispers. "Hi." He giggles and she leans up to kiss him.
"Okay- shit!" Matt stumbles a bit to the side with the bike. It was a couple of hours later and Y/n and Matt decided to rent bikes and bike around the city for a bit before heading to their planned picnic Y/n really liked to go to. "Why is it so heavy?" He says, trying to put the bike up straight. "They're so heavy for no reason, the amount of times I've fallen to the side with it is ridiculous." She starts to peddle slowly, waiting for Matt to catch up. A folded blanket is held by the basket that is on the bike.
"Are you sure you can ride the bike and carry the picnic basket at the same time?" She asks him. "I'm sure, just can't go too fast or I'll bust my shit." They rode around for thirty minutes sight seeing before heading to the park. "This looks like a nice spot." Matt pointed out an empty spot near a tree. "Okay, I'll lay out the blanket." Y/n unfolded the blanket and carefully placed it down on the grass.
"So, you're going to be in LA a week after I go back, right?" Matt says as he sips on his water bottle Y/n had packed. "Mhm, the twenty fifth. We'll finally be in the same place permanently. I'd love to hangout more with you." She smiles at him. "About that, I actually had a question for you." He caps his water and places it down next to him, moving his body to face her. "Oh, okay."
"Can I be yours, pretty girl? Officially yours." She gasps lightly and breaks into a huge smile. "You were always mine, pretty boy."
618 notes · View notes
kurzuha · 3 days
Text
SOAKED
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PAIRING brothers best friend!jake x fem!reader | wc: 3.7k
SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.
WARNINGS smut, smut under the influence, jealousy
NOTES i apologize for the writing! this is recycled from my nct blog @/taexoxosgf. It’s old and i’m too lazy to rewrite it 💁🏻‍♀️
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“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Jay dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!” 
You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.” 
He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young!  Loosen up a little!  Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch. 
“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before scurrying out of the main room. 
“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Jay’s motto is always all or nothing. 
You're nothing near Jay's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jake.  Excruciatingly so.  Whoever claimed that drinking hypnotized you to act like a bitch in heat wasn't lying. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for the focus of your thoughts because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.   
“Y/n?”  a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around. 
“Hoon? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re instinctively bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept. 
You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away.  Sunghoon still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you both never had the opportunity to catch up properly.  
“Not doing too bad.  It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.  
“How’s the East Coast?  Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?” 
“Nah, you know me.  Girls there are way too preppy for me.  Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he jokingly gags.
“Hey! Don’t hate.  That show was ahead of its time,” you raise a brow.
“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves.  Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.  
​​"Fair enough," you nod and an idea flashes across your mind as you speak. "You know who you should go for?" 
“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.  
You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Jiwon.”
“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.  
“Come on! You guys would look so hot together!  What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?” 
Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked.  “She’d never go for me.”  
“What? She used to have a crush on you!  You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm.  “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.  
“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.  
“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard.  I’m sure she would love to catch up.”
He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”  
“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.  
“You know what, fuck it.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.  
He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay.  Let’s hang out and catch up this week.  Let me know when you’re free.” 
“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.  
“I”m go-” 
Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.  
You see it’s Jake after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word.  Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.  
“Jake, what are you doing?” 
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back.  It’s virtually pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door.  
Jake finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in the small space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.  
“Jake.”
“Y/n,” his voice comes out playfully hoarse.  This was just what you wanted.  He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building the courage to approach him first. 
Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it. 
“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours.  It was the perfect opportunity.  Jay was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house.  There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.
“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments.  You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.  
“You have me to yourself now.  So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice how hard he’s pressing into the door behind you. 
“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend.  Look’s like you guys were having fun,” the irritated tone of his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you.  Even in the darkness, you can see the way he clenches his jaw following the statement. 
You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin and the alcohol influences you to push even further,  “Hoon isn’t my boyfriend.  He’s just an old friend.  Remember him?”  
He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you.  But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve.  “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”  
You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that!  Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”
“Hmm,” Jake hums.  “Should I call him Hoon too?”  
Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on,  but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Jiwon.”  
“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.  
“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.  
Jake pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?” 
It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard.  It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core,  “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.” 
The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow.  “Don’t do that.” 
“Don’t do what?” 
“Play games.  Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control previously displayed being lost in an instant.  
You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other.  Jake falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip.  He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.  
He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.  
"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want Jaeyun."
Jake doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present.  “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters.  
"You're hotter," you smile, and your lips nearly touch at the movement.  
“Don’t call me that name unless you can put your money where your mouth is.” 
“I know where I’d like to put my mouth,” you smirk and the ribbon of control Jake has been holding onto so dearly snaps.
You're grinning ear to ear, but it's short-lived when Jake grabs your nape and collides his lips on yours. You've never been kissed like this in your entire existence, and you simply want to drown in him. You press your mouth harder on his, and he responds by placing his entire weight against your body. The buzzing all over your body sobers you, and you notice the piercing on the corner of his mouth.
 The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the scorching atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.  
He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time.  The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now. 
When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens.  Jake licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.  
He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump.  You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours.  The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.
Jake slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now.  Is that what you’re into?  Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.  
“Only if you like to dominate.”  
The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit.  Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched.  The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.
“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jake’s shirt.  
“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck.  The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over.  “I can’t hear you.  Already falling apart?”  
“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end.  It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties.  He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end.  But when you become lost in his lips once again,  Jake slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on. 
“Jake,” you whine against his mouth. 
Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.  
He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds.  It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.  
“Please, Jake. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.” 
Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.  
The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you.  Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.  
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace.  You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria.  “I w-want it,” you cry.  
“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.  
“Want you.  Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot.  It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure. 
You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over.  What you don’t notice is Jake’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.  
The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help.  Jake's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose.  He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back.  You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.  
“P-please,” you beg. 
At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers,  he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his.  “Come on, you can do it.  Cum,” he demands.  
“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you.  He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop.  Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.  
As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jake bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more.  You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jake moans.  "You taste so good."
“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.  
You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth.  The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat.  “Good girl.” 
It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place.  Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance.  “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.  
His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up.  “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts.  You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but every action of his causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.  
“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.  
“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.
“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.  
“Do you have a condom in your room?”
“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.”  He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.  
And just like that, Jake slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness.  He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.  
“Holy shit,” he sighs.  “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.” 
You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move.  “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his.  He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner.  You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck.  How are you going to stop now?  “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.  
“J–ake,” you moan, “Faster.”  Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jake just swallows your pour of moans.  He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress.  It feels so good,  the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside.  You don’t know how much more you can take.  
The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at him.  The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through.  “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away.  When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.” 
Jake’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips.  He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix.  “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision.  The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jake continues to destroy you.  “Jake, fuck!”
“You like it hard huh?  Want me to make your pussy mine?”  His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else.  The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that.  Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.  
“Answer me,”  he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.  
“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.  
It was so easy for Jake to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly.  “Ja–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles.  You begin to babble random sounds,  unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.  
“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.  
“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jake to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave. 
“Inside, cum inside, Jake,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter.  After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements.  After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out. 
You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene.  The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too.  Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jake seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something.  “I forgot to lock the door.” 
Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious?  Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”  
You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs. 
You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness.  “You’re so annoying.” 
“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
518 notes · View notes
goldsainz · 2 days
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# F1 GRID — OOPS, WRONG PERSON !
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MASTERLIST !
REQUEST !
001. SUMMARY !
✯ you decide to pull a prank by “butt-dialing” your boyfriend.
002. WARNINGS !
✯ tiny tiniest bit of angst, barely proofread.
003. NOTE !
✯ i loveddd this request, so much fun to write! hope you all enjoy it because i don’t know if it’s quite as good as i intended. also, this is LONGGG so please let me know if you liked it 🫶
word count : 5,6k
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★ CARLOS SAINZ
Carlos is genuinely surprised when he sees your name pop up on his phone, a facetime call incoming. Still, he doesn’t hesitate in answering. Whatever it is you might have to say must be important given the fact that you usually avoid making calls. Texts or face-to-face conversation being more your style.
What he doesn’t know, is you’re trying to keep your giggles to yourself. You have your back-up phone in hand, recording a TikTok trend you saw and decided to attempt with your boyfriend.
When Carlos answers, you pull yourself together and start speaking as if you were in the middle of a conversation. You wonder if the wall can see the idiocy of what you’re doing, if it’s judging you as you sit alone in your room whilst pranking your boyfriend.
“Amor?” Carlos asks, greeting you still slightly confused as to the reason for your call. You grin at his voice, your camera pointing to the ceiling so it seems like an accident.
“Honestly, I think I would tell him no,” you say to nobody in particular, making up a conversation.
“Hello? What’s going on?” He asks again, but you pay him no mind.
You continue your prank as best as you can, “I don’t know… I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment,”
Carlos doesn’t respond instantly, but he gets the feeling that you’ve accidentally called him. He doesn’t hung up, no, he’s too nosy to do that. So, he keeps quiet in hopes that you continue whatever conversation you’re having.
“Do you think he would be mad?” You ask to your wall, “He’s really sweet, but that would anger anyone.”
What? He asks in his mind, trying to fill in the blanks to your conversation. Are you talking about him?
“He asked me the other day if I liked silver or gold better, isn’t that a sign?”
Oh, you so are talking about him.
When the realisation hits, he’s kind of sad. He didn’t ask it with the intentions you are insinuating, but you would really say no if he asked you to marry him? He can’t help but have his feelings hurt.
“I just don’t want to rush things.”
The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. You would think he hung up if you weren’t so intently watching the screen on your phone. You feel slightly bad about the kind of conversation you’re having. A fake conversation, but still, you feel bad.
Deciding he’s had enough, Carlos hungs up. He won’t listen in on your conversation any longer, it’s doing him no good. He’s left with a bitter taste in his mouth, a weight crushing onto his chest as he ponder over your words. He didn’t know you felt that way, and truthfully, he could’ve gone on for longer without knowing.
Immediately, you call him back. He’s tempted to ignore the call but twice can’t be a coincidence.
“What?” He asks quickly after answering, when he sees your face his harsh frown softens but his tone doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you say, dragging the y, “It was a prank, mi vida.”
He freezes for a second and then lets out a sigh of relief, “It was?”
“Yes!” You exclaim, showing him your second phone, “Say hello to TikTok.”
“You scared me,” he says with a shake of his head, “I thought you were being serious.”
“Never,” you firmly respond, “Can’t wait to be Mrs. Sainz,”
He smiles at the sudden shyness of your voice, “Well, that’s a relief then,”
You laugh at his words then suddenly stop, “Wait, Carlos, what do you mean?”
He looks at you as best as he can through a camera lens, then laughs and blows you a kiss.
“Carlos! What do you mean?” You ask more desperately, searching for answers but he just laughs and says his goodbyes.
You are left with your mouth agape when he hangs up. The video is certainly funny, and you can’t wait to edit out the more intimate ending and post it. But you’re left with a nervous yet exciting feeling at the pit of your stomach.
Perhaps the prankster ended up being the one pranked. Though you hope it’s not a prank.
★ CHARLES LECLERC
You await Charles’ response to your facetime call, patiently sitting down on your bed and your other phone in hand, ready to record. 
When your incoming call appears on Charles’s screen, he instantly answers. He loves to hear from you, especially when he’s away from you and misses you deeply. 
“Hello, mon chou,” he says, smiling at the camera and then slightly frowning when he notices that your camera is completely black.
“Okay, so I’ll see you at seven, right?” You ask your bear plushie, smiling at the ridiculousness of the prank.
At your words Charles’ mood dips, trying to understand what you;re saying or better yet, who you're speaking to.
“I’m so excited to see you,” Maybe it's cruel to play such games when you're thousands of kilometres apart. 
You know how much Charles misses you, how gruelling being so far away from home is to him. It is to you as well, being separated from your boyfriend tears your heart apart each time, but you decide that maybe spicing things up a little could be just what you need.
"Wait, who are you talking to? Is someone else there?” He asks, fidgeting with his hair and straightening up from where he was sitting. 
You pretend to ignore his voice and continue with the prank, “Yeah, he’s in Canada right now.”
Your boyfriend is now agitated at your words, though he prides himself for his calmness in tense situations he's not sure how to act right now. Should he hang up? Shout so that you perhaps hear him? Or stick around for the call and understand who you're talking to?
“No no, don't even worry about him,” you have to stifle your giggles, looking at the plushy in front of you who has served as your faithful company while Charles is away.
He leans in closer to the camera, tilting his head slightly, trying to understand what’s going on. “Amour, who’s there with you? Is someone else there?” he asks, a little louder this time, but still in that soft, slightly panicked tone.
It takes everything in you not to break character, but you want to see how far you can go. And hey, if you can pull this off maybe an acting career is not so far away. 
“Honestly, it gets so boring around here but you make it better.”
Charles’ lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he hesitates. You can see him wrestling with his emotions. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the confusion and a bit of hurt are written all over his face. He glances away from the screen, clearly feeling awkward. “I mean... if you’re busy, I can call you later?” His voice is soft, polite as always, but there’s a hint of insecurity creeping in.
Finally, you can’t keep up the act anymore, and burst into laughter.
His eyes widen in realisation, and his face immediately softens with relief. “Wait, is this a joke?!” His hand goes to his chest, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Mon dieu, I thought you were serious for a second! I was so confused.” He laughs now, more freely, shaking his head.
You grab your phone, fixing the angle so he can finally see you and just how alone you are in your room. “Yeah, it was just a prank. You should’ve seen your face!”
The giggles you're letting out make Charles smile, finding it endearing how such a simple thing entertained you. 
He groans playfully, clearly relieved but also slightly embarrassed. “You really got me... I didn’t know what to think! I was about to ask if I needed to fly out and speak with you!” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair again, his smile back and wider than ever. “But honestly, don’t do that again, chérie. I was about to lose my mind!”
You laugh, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist! You were so confused, it was hilarious!”
He shakes his head with a grin, still amused, but now there’s a more serious note in his eyes. He leans a little closer to the camera, his voice softening. “I’m glad it was a joke, but you had me really worried for a second there. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if it was real...” He trails off, his expression turning thoughtful, like he’s truly imagining what it would feel like if you were talking to someone else.
You smile, feeling a bit guilty for messing with him. “I would never do that to you, Charles. It was just a prank.”
He breathes out a little sigh, then flashes you a tender smile that could melt anyone’s heart. “I know, I know. I trust you... but still, you’re so important to me.” His voice drops to a softer tone, his vulnerability shining through. “You don’t know how much I care about you. When I thought you might be talking to someone else... I don’t think I could’ve handled it.”
His sincerity catches you off guard, and your heart swells. Before you can say anything, he smiles again, a little sheepish now. “But anyway, good prank. I’ll give you that.” He points a playful finger at the screen. “Just remember, payback’s coming!” His grin is wide, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You raise an eyebrow, pretending to be unbothered. “Oh really? What are you going to do?”
Charles smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll see. You’ll never know when it’s coming, but when it does, you’re going to regret pranking me!” He winks, but it’s clear he’s more than happy to let this prank slide for now.
Then, his voice softens again, and he gives you a look that’s pure affection. “But seriously... don’t scare me like that again. I like knowing I’m the only one you’re FaceTiming.” He smiles, his dimples showing, his face a mix of relief and playful charm.
You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay! I promise, no more pranks like that.”
“Good,” he says with a final grin, looking like he’s truly at ease again. Then, he blows you a quick kiss through the screen. “Now, tell me what you were actually doing before you called me. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
★ LANDO NORRIS
It’s late afternoon, and you’re feeling mischievous. You decide to pull a prank you saw earlier on TikTok on Lando. You know he will be caught off guard, and that’s exactly what you’re going for.
You set your phone on the couch, deliberately calling Lando without actually answering the FaceTime. Then, in a casual voice, you start the prank, pretending to have a conversation with someone else.
“Yeah, it was so fun hanging out last night. You’re hilarious!” you say, just loud enough for Lando to hear through the FaceTime call. “I can’t believe we stayed up talking for so long!”
On the other end of the line, Lando picks up immediately. Your contact name makes him smile, wondering what you’re about tell him. But when the call goes through, he’s confused, staring at your screen which faces the ceiling. “Wait… babe? Hello?” he says, glancing around as if trying to figure out what’s happening. He leans in, his brows furrowing when he hears you talking, but not to him.
“Yeah, it was so fun hanging out last night. You’re hilarious!” you say, just loud enough for Lando to hear through the FaceTime call. “I can’t believe we stayed up talking for so long!”
His eyes go wide as he looks closer at the phone, confusion spreading across his face. He shifts in his chair, trying to process what he’s hearing. “What? What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” he asks, his voice growing more anxious.
You continue the conversation, making it sound even more flirty. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to have that much fun either. You’re really something else.”
Lando's heart rate definitely spikes. He leans forward, the panic starting to creep into his voice. “Wait, wait, who’s there? Who’s she talking to?” He mutters to himself, wondering why the hell you can't hear his panicked voice but what he's more worried about is who you're talking to. 
“I’ll text you later, okay? Maybe we can hang out again soon?” you say, keeping your tone light and playful. “Yeah, it was really great seeing you. I’ll talk to you later!”
By now, Lando’s freaking out. He’s still staring at the phone screen, but you can see the uncertainty and jealousy building. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a nervous laugh. “Okay, this can’t be real. Am I being punked or something? Who the hell are you talking to?” He leans in closer, almost yelling now. “Babe! Hello! Can you hear me?!”
You pretend not to hear him and keep talking to the imaginary guy. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Can’t wait.”
He finally breaks, face twisting into disbelief, and he throws his hands in the air. “Are you serious right now? Who the hell is this guy?!” His voice cracks, and he’s clearly spiralling at this point. “Babe! BABE! Who are you talking to?! Are you with someone else?!” He’s practically on the edge of his seat, completely panicking.
You can’t hold back anymore and burst out laughing, picking up the phone.
Lando’s eyes are wild as he sees you finally holding the phone properly. “Wait… what? What’s going on? Who are you—” He stops mid-sentence as he realises you’re laughing, and it slowly dawns on him. “Oh my god.” He slumps back in his chair, groaning dramatically. “Noooo, don’t tell me this was a prank!”
Still laughing, you nod. “Yep! You got butt-dialed, babe.”
His face is still frozen in disbelief. “Are you joking right now?” he asks, his voice going up an octave. His hand is over his chest like he’s trying to calm his racing heart. “You seriously just made me think you were talking to another guy?”
“Uh-huh,” you reply, barely holding back more laughter.
He leans closer to the screen, his eyes wide. “I’m literally sweating! My heart was in my throat, and you were over here just… casually chatting with some ‘guy.’” His voice cracks a little as he says “guy,” and his dramatic reaction makes you laugh harder.
“Oh, come on, it was just a little prank,” you tease.
Lando shakes his head, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Little prank? I was literally about to start a fight with the air! I’ve never been so confused in my life!” He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping back in his chair. “I’m in shambles right now. I’ve been emotionally attacked.”
You try to stop giggling, but his over-the-top reaction just keeps it going. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack!”
“Too late,” he says with mock seriousness. “The damage is done. I might need to lie down after this.” He pauses, staring at you with narrowed eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. “You owe me big time.”
You roll your eyes, still smiling. “Oh, really? And what exactly do I owe you?”
Lando crosses his arms, feigning deep thought. “Well, first off, you owe me a massive apology. And then maybe…” His eyes light up as the thought hits him. “You can take me out for a nice dinner, pay for dessert, and— oh! I’m thinking a full day of pampering.”
You laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Pampering? What do you think this is, a spa?”
He grins, leaning back in his chair and looking more relaxed now. “Hey, I deserve it after what you just put me through. I was about to show up at your place ready to fight some random guy I didn’t even know existed!”
“Alright, alright,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes again. “I’ll pamper you. But just this once!”
Lando’s grin grows wider. “Deal. But I’m definitely getting you back for this, by the way. Just so you know.”
You can’t help but laugh at his scheming. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”
He tilts his head, his eyes softening slightly. “But seriously, don’t scare me like that again, okay? My poor heart can’t take it.” His voice drops into a teasing whine, but there’s a touch of genuine relief there too.
You smile, feeling a little guilty now. “I promise, no more butt-dial pranks.”
Lando sighs in mock relief, then grins. “Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m expecting that pampering session to start soon. I’m thinking back rubs and snacks. Lots of snacks.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it,” he says cheekily, winking at you.
★ LEWIS HAMILTON
It’s late in the evening, you’re lounging on the couch, scrolling through social media when a mischievous idea pops into your head: prank Lewis. It’s been a long week for him, and you know he’s probably relaxing after a day full of meetings and training. That makes it the perfect time to catch him off guard.
Picking up your phone, you set it on the couch beside you, face down, so it looks like a genuine mistake. Then, with one quick swipe, you FaceTime him. The phone rings a few times before Lewis picks up. You can see from the tiny preview screen that he’s in the hotel, leaning back in his chair, probably unwinding after the busy day he's had.
At first, he looks confused when he sees the camera pointing at your ceiling. “Babe?” he calls out, his voice soft and curious. “Did you call me?”
You ignore his soft voice, pretending you don’t realise you’ve called him. Instead, you start the staged conversation with your "friend” who really just is an unbothered Roscoe, who's resting by your feet and not paying much attention to anything.
“I don’t know, I just feel like things with Lewis aren’t working anymore,” you say with a sigh, making your voice sound hesitant, like you’re deep in thought.
On the other end, you can hear Lewis pause, his confusion evident as he watches the ceiling of your living room on the screen. “Wait, what? Did I just hear that right?” he mumbles, his voice soft but tinged with concern.
You continue, not responding to him, staying in character, “It’s just been really hard lately. Like, I know he cares about me, but it feels like we’re growing apart, you know?” You make your voice sound vulnerable, as if you’re spilling your deepest thoughts to this imaginary friend.
Lewis sits up straighter, his face showing a mix of confusion and worry now. He leans toward the screen, trying to get your attention. “Babe? What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” His voice is still calm, but there’s a note of urgency creeping in.
You keep the fake conversation going, pushing it a little further. “I mean, I love him, but sometimes love isn’t enough. We’re just in different places, and I don’t know if we’re going to make it.”
Your boyfriend’s eyes widen and he rubs a hand over his face, his composure starting to slip as the weight of your words sinks in. “Wait, hold on, what are you talking about? You don’t think we’re gonna make it? Babe, what’s happening?” His voice is louder now, more strained, and you can see the confusion and hurt beginning to cloud his expression.
You almost put a stop to your prank right there, but you decide to push through. So, you ignore him, still talking to your imaginary friend, “I’ve been thinking about ending things for a while, but it’s just so hard. He’s so sweet, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine.”
Lewis blinks, and you can see him processing your words, his heart clearly sinking. His mouth opens slightly, but he’s struggling to find the right thing to say. “No, no, this can’t be real,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head. 
You glance at the screen briefly, seeing the growing panic in his eyes, but you push the prank a bit further. “Yeah, I’m going to talk to him soon. I just hope he understands.” You add a small, fake sigh. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore.”
He lets out a shaky breath, his calm exterior cracking even more. “Babe, talk to me. What’s going on? Is this how you really feel?” He’s practically pleading now, his voice full of emotion. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes as he tries to make sense of everything.
Finally, unable to hold it together any longer, you burst out laughing and grab the phone. “Oh my god, Lewis, it’s a prank!”
For a moment, Lewis just stares at you, blinking in complete disbelief. Then, slowly, realisation dawns, and he lets out a long, exasperated sigh, slumping back in his chair. “No way… are you serious? You were just messing with me?”
You nod, still laughing. “Yeah, there’s no friend. I wasn’t talking about breaking up with you. I’m so sorry, my love!”
He rubs his face with both hands, trying to process everything. “Wow… okay, you really got me.” He exhales sharply, clearly relieved but still a bit shaken. “I thought I was about to lose you here. My heart was racing.”
“I’m sorry!” you say, giggling. “I didn’t mean to freak you out that much, I swear.”
He chuckles softly, though you can see the relief still lingering on his face. “You really had me going, babe. I didn’t know what to think.” He pauses, then looks at you with a mix of amusement and reproach. “I was ready to drop everything and come find you.”
You grin, feeling a little bad now that you can see how worried he really was. “I didn’t mean to push it that far! It was just supposed to be a little prank.”
Lewis shakes his head with a smile, the tension starting to fade. “Alright, alright. It’s all good. You got me. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook so easily.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my punishment?”
He leans back, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m definitely getting you back for this. And trust me, when I do, you’ll never see it coming.” His eyes glint with mischief, though there’s still that hint of vulnerability lingering in his expression.
You laugh, still feeling a bit guilty for putting him through that emotional rollercoaster. “Fair enough, I’ll be ready for whatever you’ve got planned.”
He chuckles, his smile softening. “Just… no more pranks like that, alright? You really freaked me out.” His voice lowers, and you can tell he means it.
You nod, giving him an apologetic smile. “I promise, no more fake breakups.”
Lewis grins, though his eyes are still warm with lingering emotion. “Good. Because if we’re going to have a serious conversation, I’d rather it be in person.” He winks, his usual calm confidence starting to return.
“Deal,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, relieved that he’s taking it so well.
He sighs dramatically, then chuckles. “You’re lucky I love you, babe. Because if anyone else tried that on me…” He trails off with a smirk, but you know he means it.
“I know, I know. You’re the best,” you tease, still smiling.
“Yeah, don’t forget it,” he says, his voice light, but you can tell he’s glad the whole thing was just a joke.
★ MAX VERSTAPPEN
Max’s phone buzzes with a FaceTime call, and he glances at the screen, seeing your name pop up. It’s unusual for you to call directly; you typically prefer texting or face-to-face conversations. So, he’s immediately curious about what might be urgent enough to warrant a call.
You place your phone face down on the couch and dial Max’s number. The phone rings a few times before he picks up, his face appearing on the screen. He’s clearly winding down after a long day, his hair slightly tousled and a relaxed look on his face.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks casually. You can see he’s expecting a normal call.
Instead of responding, you start chatting as if you’re talking to someone else. “Yeah, it was great seeing you tonight. I didn’t expect to have such a good time.” You add a flirty tone to your voice, trying to sound casual.
At first, Max stays silent, his expression shifting from relaxed to puzzled. After a moment, his eyes narrow, and he leans closer to the screen. “Who are you talking to?” His voice is direct, with a calm demeanour that contrasts the intensity in his eyes.
You continue with the prank, keeping up the pretence. “I know, right? It’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to hang out like this.” You give a small, playful laugh.
Max’s face tightens slightly, and he sits up straight, clearly not pleased. “Seriously, who is that? Who are you talking to?” His tone is calm but authoritative.
“I’m glad we could hang out,” you say softly, using the same voice you use when you want to sweeten Max. It’s a tone reserved only for him, and that only makes him more frustrated.
He watches you intently, his patience wearing thin. “I’m not playing games. Are you going to tell me who this is or not?” 
You can see his frustration building as he waits for a response. When you don’t immediately answer, he makes a decisive move. “You know what? I’m ending this call.” He starts to hang up, but then pauses, his eyes narrowing even more. “Actually, I’m coming over. I want to see who you’re talking to.”
Before you can react, he’s already starting to disconnect. Realising the prank might be escalating, you quickly grab the phone and try to calm him down. “Wait, Max, it’s a joke! I was just messing with you!”
Max freezes mid-disconnect, his eyes widening with a mix of relief and disbelief. He straightens up, a sarcastic grin spreading across his face. “Oh, a joke? Perfect timing. I was just about to come over and give your ‘mystery guy’ a piece of my mind. You know, because clearly, he needed a crash course on what it means to mess with my girlfriend.”
You burst out laughing, trying to explain yourself. “I’m really sorry, Max. I didn’t think it would get this intense.”
He rolls his eyes dramatically, still grinning. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘I’m just kidding’ like a full-blown emotional crisis. I’m sure your ‘mystery guy’ would’ve been thrilled to meet the real Max Verstappen, all dressed up for a confrontation.”
You giggle, feeling a bit sheepish. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I just thought it would be a harmless prank.”
Max raises an eyebrow, his sarcasm in full swing. “Oh, of course, harmless. I mean, who needs peace of mind when you’ve got surprise pranks, right?”
You laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll make sure to keep my pranks a bit less intense next time.”
He smirks, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Unless you want me to come over and give you a live demonstration of what happens when you prank a racing driver. Spoiler alert: It involves a lot of very fast revenge.”
“Noted,” you say with a grin. “I promise, no more surprise drama.”
Max chuckles, his sarcasm giving way to genuine amusement. “Good. Because I was about to start practising my ‘disappointed boyfriend’ speech. And trust me, it’s a work of art.”
You laugh again, feeling relieved that he’s taking it well. “I’ll avoid any more pranks that might warrant a speech.”
“Perfect. Now, let’s talk about something less dramatic— like how you’re going to make it up to me. And I don’t mean another prank.”
You laugh, ready to move on from the prank. “I’ve got just the thing. No more surprises, I promise.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Good. And remember, I’m always keeping an eye out for any more ‘mysterious’ calls.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say with a laugh. 
★ OSCAR PIASTRI
You’re feeling cheeky and decide to pull a prank on your boyfriend by pretending to butt dial him. You carefully set up your phone, ensuring it calls Oscar automatically. You place the phone on a table and begin your act, speaking loudly enough for him to hear clearly through the call. 
You make sure to put on a show, talking loudly enough that Oscar will definitely hear it. As soon as he picks up, you begin your “conversation.”
“Oh hey! So glad you called,” you start, making your voice bright and cheerful as if you’ve been waiting for this call. “I just have to tell you, last night was absolutely amazing!”
Oscar, on the other end of the call, answers with his usual calm demeanour. He sees your name on the screen and answers with a mix of curiosity and amusement. His face remains composed, but you can sense him starting to analyse the situation. He listens intently, trying to figure out what’s happening.
“I’m so glad we got to hang out. It’s not every day you meet someone who can keep me laughing like that,” you say, your tone warm and engaging. You emphasise the casual nature of the conversation, hoping to make your boyfriend think it’s a genuine chat.
Oscar’s gaze is fixed on the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listens. He remains eerily quiet, giving you the sense that he’s deep in thought, piecing together the details of your conversation. His face is a mask of calm curiosity, but there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
“Absolutely, we need to do it again soon. How about dinner tomorrow? I’ll text you the details,” you continue, maintaining the pretence. You keep your tone light and breezy, almost as if the conversation is too engaging for you to notice his reaction.
Oscar’s smirk starts to form, his mind piecing together the clues. He leans back slightly in his chair, his composure unshaken. He’s clearly caught on to the prank, but he maintains his cool, waiting for the right moment to reveal his awareness.
“I hope you’re done with your other conversation,” he finally says, his voice smooth and collected. “We can talk later when you’re free from your… other commitments.” His calm tone and subtle smirk indicate he’s caught on, but he’s letting you have your fun for now.
You immediatly start laughing, realising that Oscar has seen right through your prank. “I didn’t expect you to catch on so quickly!”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying the reveal. “I had a feeling something was off, your conversation was a bit too perfect.” He gives you a playful wink. “Nice try, though. I have to admit, you had me intrigued for a moment there.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you say, still grinning. “I was hoping to give you a little challenge.”
He leans back in his chair, his smile broadening. “Challenge accepted. You managed to get a rise out of me, which is no easy feat. But now that I’m in on the joke, I’m planning my own comeback.” His tone is light-hearted but filled with a hint of mischief.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you say, still grinning. “I was hoping to give you a little challenge.”
His smirk widens into a charming grin. “Challenge accepted,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “But since you managed to prank me, I think it’s only fair that I get to return the favour.”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his confident tone. “Oh, really? And what do you have in mind for your comeback?”
Oscar leans in a bit closer, his gaze softening. “Let’s just say that next time we talk, I might have a surprise of my own for you. Something that’ll make your heart race in a way that’s far more thrilling than any prank.” He gives you a knowing look, his voice lowering to a teasing whisper. “I’m all about keeping things exciting.”
Your heart flutters at the flirtatious undertone in his voice. “Is that so? I’ll have to be extra vigilant then. I wouldn’t want you to catch me off guard again.”
His eyes sparkle with affection. “Oh, don’t worry. I love a good challenge, especially when it means I get to see that beautiful smile of yours when you’re surprised.” 
You blush a little at his words, “I might have to prank you every day if I get you this sweet after.”
“I’m alway sweet,” he teases, laughing at your flusteredness.
“Yeah, you are.”
“Anyway, are you getting home later today?” You ask, hoping to see your boyfriend after weeks of him being away.
“Yes, I’m aching to see you,” he confesses, smiling at you.
“Me too.” 
“See you then, my little prankster,” Oscar says with a laugh.
You roll your eyes at the nickname but you’re endeared by it all the same. “See you soon.”
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xvysarene · 3 days
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𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕
Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
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“Marry me,” you had said.
Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.
Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”
Nothing more and nothing less.
It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.
Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”
That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.
But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.
“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.
There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.
As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.
Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.
Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”
Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.
Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.
Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway. 
“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”
Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.
“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.
Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”
Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.
It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.
He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”
When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.
You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.
His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.
If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.
Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.
“What are you reading?”
“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.
With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”
When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.
“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”
A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.
That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.
“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”
“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.
Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…
Friends. A foreign term to you.
Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.
In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”
“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus’s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.
Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”
Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?
You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.
Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.
“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”
“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”
His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.
Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”
A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.
As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.
That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.
“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”
The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.
And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.
No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus. 
How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?
“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”
You bristled. He was right, of course.
“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.
It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?
For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.
The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.
You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.
“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.
“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”
You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.
Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.
Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.
“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.
You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.
“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.
The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.
The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.
He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.
“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.
“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”
Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.
Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.
What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.
“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”
As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”
“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”
You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.
The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.
He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.
It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.
“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”
Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”
Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”
Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.
Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.
“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”
A divorce.
The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.
For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.
You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”
“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”
A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”
It was as if a wall had been erected again.
“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.
“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”
Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”
His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.
In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.
He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.
“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”
With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.
That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.
For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.
His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.
It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.
Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.
“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.
Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.
The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.
Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.
Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.
It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.
With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”
409 notes · View notes
aceyalonso · 2 days
Text
that's the thing about illicit affairs - OSCAR PIASTRI
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pairing : ex!oscar piastri x fem!reader ↳ slight lando x fem!reader at the end
summary : a maid of honor and a groom that she knows all too well, only one of them gets their happy ending.
warnings : swearing, drinking, fighting, relationship issues, mentions of settling down, marriage, majority of story takes place in 2027
word count : 6.5k
song : illicit affairs - taylor swift
a/n : happy 400 followers with a not so happy post! and a special ty to @iamred-iamyellow for convincing me to write this <3
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September 10th, 2024
Y/n lifted her head from Oscar's chest, shifting her position to look at him directly. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Have you ever thought about getting engaged or married someday?"
Oscar's expression turned slightly cautious as Y/n asked the question. He paused for a moment, thinking about it. Finally, he responded, "Well... I haven't really given it much though, to be honest. I've been focused on our relationship and enjoying our time together."
He shifted a bit on the couch, now sitting up straight. His gaze remained fixed on Y/n as he continued. "Why do you ask? Is it something you've been thinking about?"
Y/n nodded, a mild sense of disappointment showing on her face at the realization that Oscar hadn't seriously thought about it yet. "I was just wondering. It's something that's been on my mind for a while."
The conversation turned into a more serious tone as the topic escalated to an argument. The initial lighthearted mood was replaced with tension and disagreement between Y/n and Oscar.
Y/n's frustration began to show on her face, her voice getting slightly louder. "I don't understand why you haven't thought about it yet. We've been together for 3- Almost 4 years, Oscar."
Oscar's initial surprise at the escalation of the argument slowly turned to frustration as well. He responded, his voice rising slightly as well. "It's not that I don't want to marry you, it's just... I don't know if I'm ready for it yet. The thought of getting engaged or married is a huge commitment.
Y/n scoffed a bit, her agitation growing. "I know it's big commitment. But that's exactly why it's important to discuss it and be on the same page about our future. I need to know what we agree and don't agree on!"
Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want you to feel like I'm avoiding the topic, but it feels like you're putting pressure on me to make this decision. I just need more time to think about it, alright?"
Y/n crossed her arms, clearly dissatisfied with Oscar's response. She lets out a huff before responding. "More time? We've been together for years, and still need more time to think about it? How much more time do you need?"
Oscar's irritation grew at Y/n's response. He raised his voice slightly, matching her heightened tone. "I understand that we've been together for a long time, but that doesn't mean I have to be ready to get engaged or married right now. And constantly pressuring me about it isn't going to make ready any faster.
Y/n shot back with a bit more heat in her words. "I'm not trying to pressure, I just want some clarity about our future. It's not unreasonable to expect some form of commitment after being together for this long. You make it sound like you're not even sure if you want to marry me at all!"
Oscar's expression hardened at Y/n's accusation. "That's not fair. You know I love you, and I don't doubt our relationship. But marriage is a big step, and I want to be absolutely certain that we're both ready and willing to commit to it for the rest of our lives."
Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, feeling increasingly frustrated. "I understand that, but I feel like you're keeping me in limbo. You can't ask for more time without giving me some assurances that you do see a future with me. I need some sort of confirmation that we're on the same page here."
Oscar let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Okay, look, I do see a future with you. I do want to be with you for the rest of my life, alright? I just need more time to mentally prepare for the idea of getting engaged or married. It's a lot to process all at once."
Y/n relaxed slightly at Oscar’s reassurance, but their concerns still lingered on their face. “That’s good to hear, but it’s still not enough for me. I need more than just words. I need some kind of proof that you’re serious about our future together.”
Oscar, now clearly irritated, threw his hands up in desperation. “What more assurance do you need? I just told you that I see a future with you and that I love you. What else could you possibly want from me? A written guarantee? A legal contract?”
Y/n, equally frustrated, shot back with an aggressive tone. “No, I don’t need a written contract. I just need some sort of action, some steps towards making our future together a reality. You keep telling me you’re sure about us, but then you hesitate when it comes to actually making a commitment.”
The argument continued to escalate, both Y/n and Oscar becoming more frustrated and emotional. Y/n’s voice continued to raise, their words now filled with frustration and hurt. “I can’t believe you’re still making excuses. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who wants to take our relationship to the next level. You keep stalling, and it makes me question if you really want to marry me at all!”
Oscar, in his frustration and anger, snapped back with a hurtful remark. “You know what, if you keep acting like this, maybe I won’t marry you at all! At least I'll be free from you and your stupid neediness!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The pain and shock on Y/N’s face were evident, and he knew he had crossed a line.
Y/n stood up from the sofa, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Fine, if that's really what you want, then it won't happen. If you don't see a future with me, if you don't want to marry me, then there's nothing more to discuss."
Y/n, moving with purpose, made her way to the bedroom. There, she hastily grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began stuffing it with clothes and essentials. A sense of anger and determination filled her actions, her emotions still heightened from the argument.
Meanwhile, Oscar followed behind, trying to stop Y/n form leaving. He entered the bedroom and pleaded with her, his voice filled with regret and desperation. "Where are you going? You can't just leave like this!"
Y/n snapped back at him, her voice still angry and strained. "I can and I will. You just made it clear that you don't see a future with me. What am I supposed to do? Stay and keep hoping that someday you'll change your damn mind?!"
Oscar, his emotions conflicting, tried to find the words to convince Y/n to stay. "I didn't mean it. I was just so frustrated and angry, I didn't what I was saying. Please, don't go. We need to talk this through."
Y/n, who was still packing her suitcase, paused for a moment to look at Oscar. "There's nothing more to talk about. You said what you said, and I heard it loud and clear. You don't see a future with me, so what's the fucking point?"
Pausing once more in the midst of packing, looked directly at Oscar. "When we first started dating, I made it clear that I wanted to settle down one day. I was upfront about my expectations, and you knew what I wanted. Yet, here we are, years later, and you're still not ready for that commitment.
Oscar, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration, responded defensively. "I know I haven't been ready yet, but I told you I need more time. That doesn't mean I never want to marry you. It just means I'm not ready right now."
Y/n, now fully packing their suitcase, shot back with a hint of sarcasm. "Right, because waiting endlessly for you to make up your mind is so fun. You've had years, Oscar. How much more time do you need? A decade? A lifetime?"
Oscar, starting to get frustrated again, tried to defend himself. "You're acting like I'm doing this on purpose! I'm not stalling or avoiding the issue. I just need more time to figure things out. I have to be sure about such a big commitment!"
Y/n zipped up her suitcase, expression hard and uncompromising. "Spare me the excuses, Oscar. You've had ample time to reflect and consider. And here I am, still waiting for you to make a move. Your inability to make a decision speaks volumes, and I refuse to continue wasting my time, hoping for something you're not even ready to give."
Y/n, now walking out of the bedroom with suitcase in tow, was stopped in her tracks by Oscar's gentle yet firm on her free wrist. As she turned to look at him, he called out to her with a pleading tone. "Baby, wait. Don't go. Let's talk about this. Please."
Y/n looked him in the eye with a mixture of hurt and anger. "Don't call me 'baby'. You don't get to use endearments on me now. You lost that privilege when you made it clear that you don't see me as someone worth committing to."
Oscar, realizing his mistake in using the endearment, looked at Y/n with a remorse and desperation. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that. I'm just trying to get you to stay and talk to me about this."
Y/n shook her head, her expression still firm and determined. "No, I'm done talking. I'm done waiting. You had your chance to discuss this, and you dismissed it. I don't want to hear any more excuses or apologies right now. I need space."
Oscar, growing increasingly worried, pleaded with Y/n once more. "Please, don't go. This is the same old argument we've had before, but we've always worked through it. Let's take a break, cool off, and come back to this later."
"Exactly!" Y/n's voice is laced with frustration and exhaustion. "We keep pushing this issue aside, hoping it'll resolve itself. But it never does!" she says, tears starting to fall in between sobs. "Instead, it just becomes a bigger problem each time we avoid it. We can't avoid this conversation forever, and it's tearing me apart."
Y/n, determined to leave despite Oscar’s efforts to hold her back, breaks free from his grip and walks towards the door.
Oscar, watching her walk away, calls out to her pleadingly. "Please, don’t go. We can work this out, can’t we? You can’t just leave without resolving this."
Y/n, standing at the door with suitcase in hand, responds with a mix of determination and pain. "You’re right. There won’t be anything to resolve if there’s nothing left between us. And right now, it feels like there’s nothing left to salvage."
Oscar, panicked and desperate, tries one last effort to make her stay. "No, don’t say that! We have years together, a life built together. You can’t throw it all away just like that."
Y/n, her voice tinged with hurt and bitterness, answers with a sharp response. "When you said you don’t feel free around me, it felt like a slap in the face. As if being with me is some kind of prison sentence to you. So maybe it’s better if you are free, without me in the picture."
Y/n opens the door, her steps resolute and determined. Without looking back, she walks out and slams the door shut behind her. Oscar, left alone in the apartment, stands frozen in place, the sound of the door slamming echoing in his ears.
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February 12, 2027
Three years have passed since Y/n left, and she has found herself in a different place, both geographically and emotionally. She has moved from Monaco to France, and is now living in a cozy apartment with her roommate, Alexandra.
Y/n and Alexandra are folding laundry and chatting away in the living room, enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, Y/n's phone buzzes, signaling an incoming call. She glances at the screen to see that it's her cousin calling.
Y/n, spotting the caller ID "lily 💗", excuses herself from the conversation with Alexandra. She picks up the phone, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Hey, what's up?"
Lily, sounding excited on the other end of the line, wastes no time in telling her the news. "Hey, guess what? I'm getting married! And I'd really love it if you could come to the wedding. It wouldn't be the same without you here!"
A smile spreads across Y/n's face as she listens to her cousin's cheerful announcement. She feels a mix of joy and surprise. "Oh my goodness, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. Of course, I'd love to be there for your wedding. It's going to be a beautiful occasion. Have you set a date yet?"
Her cousin, still beaming with happiness, replies warmly. "Yes, we have! We're getting married in two months, at a beautiful venue here in Monte Carlo. It's going to be a wonderful celebration. I can't wait for you to be there with me."
Y/n's cousin, continuing the conversation, extends a special invitation. "Oh, and by the way, I wanted to ask you something else. Would you do me the honor of being my maid of honor? It would mean the world to me if you were by my side on my special day."
She feels a wave of warmth and appreciation at her cousin's request. She quickly responds with enthusiasm. "Oh my goodness, of course I'll be your maid of honor! It would be my absolute honor to stand by your side on your wedding day. I'm so touched that you asked me."
Her cousin lets out a happy sigh, feeling relieved and delighted at Y/n's acceptance. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad you said yes. I can already imagine us having so much fun during the preparations and on the big day. You're going to be the best maid of honor ever!"
She rejoins Alexandra in the living room, her expression a mix of joy and excitement. "Sorry, that was my cousin. She's getting married apparently? She asked me to be her maid of honor too!"
Alexandra, hearing the exciting news, lights up with delight. "Oh, that's fantastic! Congratulations to the both of you!" she says, clapping lightly. "Being a maid of honor is such a special role. When's the big day?"
Y/n's voice brims with anticipation as she responds. "In two months, it'll be in Monte Carlo."
Alexandra, curious to know more about Y/n's cousin and her fiancé, poses a question with a tone of intrigue. "That sounds wonderful! So who's the lucky groom?"
Y/n opens her mouth before slowly closing it. "You know, I just realized, I don't actually know..." she replies sheepishly.
The two girls sit in awkward silence for a few moments before bursting out laughing. Y/n can finally say that she feels happy. At least, way happier than she was with Oscar.
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April 26, 2027 | Chapel
The long awaited wedding day, and the setting couldn't more picturesque. The venue is adorned with elegant decorations, and Y/n stands by chapel doors, ready to walk down the aisle alongside the best man and to see the groom for the very first time.
Y/n, in her satin green dress, is arm in arm with Lando, the best man (who she met a week ago). They make their way up to the altar, and as her eyes scan the surroundings, something catches her eye. She turns her gaze towards the altar, and there she sees the groom awaiting his bride.
As the groom turns around to face the aisle, Y/n's heart skips a beat. There, standing at the altar, is Oscar, her ex-boyfriend. Y/n feels a mix of shock and disbelief. Lily is getting married to Oscar.
Oscar, caught off guard by the sight of Y/n, manages to keep his composure despite the surprise. His eyes go wide with realization, but he quickly masks his emotions and turns his attention back to the altar.
Lando, feeling Y/n's grip on his arm tighten ever so slightly, turns his attention to her with concern. He senses something is amiss and leans in slightly to inquire in a low whisper. "Hey, is everything alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
Y/n, struggling to find her words, manages to compose herself enough to respond to Lando's question. "I'm... I'm fine." she mutters, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about it. Let's just focus on the ceremony right now. I'll explain everything later if we have time."
Lando, sensing Y/n's unease, nods in understanding but keeps a watchful eye on her throughout the ceremony. He feels there's more to it than meets the eye, but he decides to respect her request to wait until later to explain.
The processional draws to a close as Lily walks down the aisle, looking stunning in her snowy white dress. Y/n, unable to help herself, steals a glance at Oscar, who stands at the altar, his eyes filled with awe as he gazes at the bride- his bride, in all her splendor. There's a mix of shock and a tinge of melancholy in Y/n's expression as she observes him.
Her thoughts race through her mind as she stands alongside the other bridesmaids. She watches Oscar at the altar, his eyes fixated on Lily, and a sudden pang of bittersweetness washes over her. In that moment, she can't help but wonder if this is what it would've been if she and Oscar had gotten married, if they would've worked it out. A mixture of nostalgia and melancholy fills her heart as she contemplates what could have been.
Her inner turmoil intensifies as she struggles to reconcile her current circumstances with the memory of the dreams and aspirations she once had with Oscar. The weight of the unspoken emotions between them hangs heavily in the air, and split second, Y/n finds herself caught in a whirlwind of "what if?" scenarios before she snaps back to reality, reminding herself of the reasons that led them down separate paths. The same reasons that led them to this day.
Lily reaches the altar, and Oscar assists her with her beautiful gown, his hands gently arranging the fabric. In the process, their eyes meet for a fraction of a second, and the intensity of that brief glance nearly brings tears to her eyes. The connection, though fleeting, stirs a mix of emotions within her, bringing back memories and longing she thought she had buried in the past.
Unable to bear the weight of Oscar's gaze any longer, Y/n averts her eyes, feigning the need to fuss with her own gown. She busies herself with adjusting her attire, using the action as a guise to avoid looking at Oscar, who stands just a few steps from her. She tries to mask the turmoil within her, hoping no one notices the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.
Oscar tears his gaze away from Y/n and redirects his focus to his bride. A genuine, radiant smile illuminates his face, and in that moment, Y/n realizes that she has never seen him smile quite like that before. The smile is wide, full of joy and contentment. Y/n can't help but feel a sharp pang in her heart.
The sight of Oscar's unabashed happiness with his bride strikes a chord deep within Y/n. It awakened a mix of sorrow, regret, and a hint of resignation. She understands that his smile, while beautiful, is no longer hers to witness. The reality of their broken relationship, and the different paths they've taken, is now undeniable, and the weight of that realization settles heavily on her heart.
The mixture of emotions in the air is palpable as Y/n stans beside the other bridesmaids, her eyes till fixated on Oscar and the bride. She can't help but feel a jumble of sadness, envy, and acceptance, witnessing the unfolding scene in front of her. The moment seems to stretch on, each second reminding her of what could have been.
The ceremony continues, and as the moment arrives for Oscar to kiss his bride, the air catches in Y/n's throat. Y/n, along with all the guests gathered, watches as the newly weds lock lips, sealing their union in a heartfelt kiss. Y/n's heart clenches as she longs to be the one standing with Oscar, to be the one he's kissing.
Their kiss seems to last an eternity, each second a poignant reminder of the love that Oscar now shares with someone else. Y/n's eyes are fixed on the couple, her heart wallowing in sorrow and acceptance. The realization that she is no longer a part of Oscar's future washes over her, and she finds herself in the same bittersweet feeling that she found all those years ago.
Y/n, although her heart is heavy, knows she has no choice but to join in the applause. She raises her hands and claps along with the guests. Her hands come together in a rhythmic applause, the sound blending with the collective joy and celebration around her. Inside, her heart is aching, but on the outside, she manages to maintain a semblance of composure, hiding the storm of emotions within her.
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April 27, 2027 | Reception
Time swiftly moves forward to the reception. Lando, as the best man, steps up to the podium, ready to deliver his speech. The room falls silent, and all eyes turn to him, waiting to hear his words. Lando takes a deep breath before starting, his voice filled with a mix of humor, warmth, and genuine affection for the couple.
Lando begins his best man speech with a warm smile, his eyes flickering across the guests. "Good evening, everyone. I feel incredibly honored to be standing here as the best man for this beautiful couple. Today we gather to celebrate love, commitment, and the beginning of a new journey for our newlyweds, Lily and Oscar. I've known Oscar for a long time, and I can confidently say that I've never seen him as happy as he is today, all thanks to the incredible woman sitting beside him."
As Lando continues with his speech, Y/n sits in her chair, listening intently. The mention of Oscar being the happiest he's ever been makes her chest tighten, as though an invisible weight is pressing down on her heart. The reality that Oscar has found true happiness with someone else, the very thing Y/n had once hoped to provide for him, is a bitter pill to swallow.
Y/n, lost in her thoughts, zones out during the last part of Lando's speech. The words around her turn into a blur, and she becomes unaware of the speech's conclusion. Her mind is preoccupied with the barrage of emotions swirling inside her, and she finds herself in a state of partial detachment from the ongoing celebration.
Lando, sensing that Y/n was lost in thought, gently places his hand on her shoulder. This gesture snaps her back to reality, and she becomes aware of the room around her again. Seeing her jolt slightly, he gazes at her with a compassionate glance. "Hey, it's your turn to give a speech."
Her heart rate quickens as she realizes it's her turn to give the speech, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. She glances around the room, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her shoulders.
Y/n slowly walks up to the podium, her steps deliberate and measured. As she stands in front of the microphone, she can feel the eyes of gathered guests fixed on her, waiting for her words.
She stands behind the podium, taking a moment to collect herself before speaking. With a mixture of joy, love, and disbelief, she begins her speech.
She starts, "Good evening, everyone. For those who may not know me, I’m Y/n, the bride’s cousin, but truly, we’ve always been like sisters. Standing here today, I feel a flood of emotions - joy, love, and perhaps just a hint of disbelief that this day has finally come."
Y/n continues, "You see, when we were children, Lily and I would often engage in 'wedding' games. We'd don makeshift wedding veils made from pillowcases and fiercely argue over who would get to be the bride. It was a serious matter for us back then, and more often than not, we’d ultimately settle on her being the bride. According to her, she just 'looked more like one.' Well, Lily, I have to admit, you were absolutely right—because here you are today, looking stunning, more beautiful and radiant than I could have ever imagined."
Her voice is a mixture of warmth and sentimentality as she continues her speech. "It’s fascinating how childhood dreams have a way of becoming reality, and yet, it’s even more astonishing to witness how you’ve grown into the remarkable woman standing before us now. Over the years, I’ve watched you navigate the ups and downs of life with such grace, and today, as you marry Oscar, my heart swells with happiness for you both."
In the midst of her speech, Y/n’s eyes inadvertently meet Oscar’s, and a wave of emotions courses through her. The weight of the moment, combined with her feelings for Oscar, causes tears to well up in her eyes, making it increasingly difficult to continue speaking.
She pauses, attempting to blink back the tears that threaten to spill. Clearing her throat lightly, she tries to push through the momentary emotional wave that has struck her. The pain in her heart is evident, but she forces a smile, determined to complete her speech with a semblance of composure.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n collects herself and presses on with her speech, "While I’m brimming with joy for you both, I must admit I feel a tinge of bittersweetness, for today marks the beginning of a new chapter in your life — a chapter where you start your own family. But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that no matter how life changes, no matter where you go, we’ll always be as close as we’ve been."
Y/n steals another quick glance in Oscar's direction before continuing. Her emotions are still close to the surface, but she plows on, speaking with a mixture of bittersweet happiness and nostalgia.
"You’re not just my cousin; you’re my sister, and this connection we share is something that will forever remain unchanged. So here’s to the both of you. May your love be as strong and lasting as our bond has been all these years. And Lily, if this day proves anything, it’s that you were always destined to be the bride." she says, wiping away her tears with a small handkerchief Lando handed her.
As Y/n completes her speech, her eyes inadvertently find their way back to Oscar. The gaze she gives him mirrors the one she had when they parted ways three years ago. The pain, the longing, and the unresolved emotions are all still there, making her next words more strained.
With her gaze still fixed on Oscar, Y/n struggles to keep her emotions in check as she continues her speech, her voice trembling slightly. Despite the ache in her heart, she forces a smile, her words now directed towards Oscar.
"And to Oscar, I hope you enjoy growing old with her as much as I enjoyed growing up with her." Each word feels like a dagger to her heart, but she finishes her speech, the pain in her eyes reflecting the depth of her unspoken feelings.
Y/n, fighting to maintain her composure, finally comes to the end of her speech. Her voice wavers slightly as she utters her final words. "A toast! To Lily and Oscar!"
Her words hang in the air, a bittersweet sentiment that lingers in the room. The guests raise their glasses in agreement, blissfully unaware of the turmoil within Y/n.
Lily, moved by Y/n's heartfelt speech, stands up and embraces her cousin in a tight hug. But while Lily basks in the moment, blissfully unaware of the pain her happiness is causing Y/n, the latter can only focus on Oscar, her eyes filling with tears as she gazes at him. The raw emotions bubbling beneath the surface seem to intensify, and it takes all her strength to hold back the floodgates.
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April 27, 2027 | After the Reception
The reception has come to an end, and the hotel lobby is relatively quiet at this late hour. Lando, getting ready to head out, spots Y/n standing in the corner, holding her crumpled gown in one hand and her phone in the other. He approaches her with a concerned expression.
"Hey," Lando says softly, standing beside Y/n. His voice is gentle, tinged with concern as he looks at her. "Are you alright? You seem a bit... off?"
Y/n glances up at Lando, her expression weary. The emotional toll of the evening is evident on her face. She forces a small smile, trying to appear okay. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she replies, her voice slightly strained. "Just a bit tired, you know."
Lando can sense that Y/n isn't being completely honest, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he offers her two options. "You sure you're okay? You can always crash at my place if you want," he suggests. "Or, if you're up for it, we could go for a drive. Whatever you prefer."
Y/n ponders for a moment, weighing her options. Finally, she decides to take Lando up on his offer for a drive.
"A drive sounds good," she says, her voice slightly weary but also filled with a hint of relief. "Lead the way."
With a nod, Lando leads the way towards his car, parked outside the hotel. He unlocks the door, takes her gown, and gestures for her to get in. Once they're both settled in the car, Lando starts the engine and begins driving.
The silent drive envelops them, its quietness only interrupted by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of passing cars. Both Lando and Y/n seem weary, the evening's events taking their toll on them.
Lando glances over at Y/n periodically, noting the fatigue etched on her face.
He drives them to an empty beach, where only the signs of life are a few stray cats and dogs sleeping beneath a nearby bridge. The beach is mostly deserted, and the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore adds a soothing atmosphere to the surroundings.
He parks the car and shuts off the engine, the sudden silence feeling both peaceful and surreal at the same time.
Lando gets out of the car and opens the trunk. He rummages through it, pulling out two bottles of beer. He closes the trunk and walks over to where Y/n is standing, holding the bottles in one hand.
"Wanna share a cold one?" he asks, offering her one of the bottles.
As Lando hands Y/n a bottle, she glances at him with a puzzled expression on her face, her confusion evident. "You just happen to have cold beer in your trunk?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
Lando laughs at her questions and explains, shrugging his shoulders. "Nah, I don't keep beers in my car!" he says, chuckling. "It was supposed to be for the wedding, in case we ran out. You know how weddings can be."
Y/n nods in agreement and requests a bottle opener. Lando pats his pockets, searching for one. After a moment, he pulls out a small, multi-purpose tool from his pocket that serves as a bottle opener.
"Can I?" he says, gesturing for her to hand him the beer.
Y/n thanks him and hands her bottle to him, waiting for to him to open his bottle. As he uses it to pop the lids off both bottles with a satisfying fizzing sound, she takes her bottle and watches the foam settle on the top of the liquid.
Lando closes the trunk and follows Y/n down to the sand. They walk down in silence, the soft sound of their footsteps blending with the gentle rhythmic crashing of the waves.
The cool night air wraps around them, offering a refreshing reprieve from the day’s festivities. The soft light of the stars and the moon casts a gentle glow over the beach, making the surrounding area appear almost magical.
As they reach a spot on the beach and sit down, Lando takes a sip of his beer and sets the bottle down in the sand. He glances over at Y/n, his expression curious. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he says.
Y/n looks up at Lando, her expression open. “Sure, what is it?” she responds, her curiosity piqued by his inquiry.
Lando takes another sip of his drink before continuing. “When we were standing there, right before you were supposed to give the speech, you started acting kinda strange. I’m just wondering… did something happen?”
He pauses for a moment, the memory of their walk down the aisle surfacing in his mind. His tone becomes concerned and inquisitive. “And when we were walking down the aisle, you seemed… I don’t know, kinda on edge too. Did something happen back there or…”
Y/n sighs heavily, knowing she can’t avoid the question any longer. She gazes out at the ocean, the weight of her emotions visible in her expression. “I guess you noticed that something was up after all,” she says, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. “It’s a long story, Lan.”
Lando looks at Y/n, giving her a reassuring smile. “You know what? We’ve got all the time in the world right now, it’s just you and me.” he says, his voice gentle and inviting. “And I’m all ears if you need to talk about whatever is bothering you.”
Y/n feels a mix of emotions, knowing that Lando is willing to listen to her and that she can finally open up about what’s been bothering her. She takes a deep breath, her voice slightly shaky as she begins to tell her story.
“Okay… So I guess I should start by telling you that Oscar is my ex-boyfriend.” She sighs, feeling the weight of her words settle over her.
As Y/n drops the revelation about Oscar being her ex, Lando’s response is somewhat unexpected— his beer goes up his nose, causing him to cough and splutter lightly. Y/n stifles a laugh, finding a brief moment of humor amidst the intensity of their conversation.
“Hey,” she giggles playfully, “you okay there?” Lando clears his throat, wiping away the remnants of his beer mishap.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs, his eyes still watering slightly. “I just… did not expect that detail?”
They both laugh softly, and the moment of levity helps to alleviate some of the tension hanging in the air.
Y/n takes a deep breath, regaining her composure, and going on with her story. “Long story short, things didn’t end well between us… I guess seeing him again as the groom, all dressed up and looking ready to start a new chapter in his life, well, it just hit me pretty hard,” she confesses, the sadness and lingering pain evident in her voice.
Y/n takes a moment to gather her thoughts, summoning the courage to share the painful truth. “The main reason we ended things was because he wasn’t ready to settle down. He didn’t want what I want— commitment, a future together, you know? It hurt, but I had to respect his decision.” Her voice trails off, memories of their breakup flooding her mind, stinging her again.
The mention of Oscar’s reluctance to commit triggers a painful memory for Y/n, causing her eyes to cloud with a mix of sadness and longing. “And now, seeing stand there, so ready to marry someone else, with the biggest smile on his face… It’s like my hope of us being together has been shattered all over again.”
Her laughter is tinged with bitterness, the irony of the situation not lost on her. “To make matters worse, it just had to be my cousin, right? Like some sort of fucking soap opera. I mean, what are the odds of that?” Y/n muses, shaking her head slightly.
Seeing the sadness etched on Y/n’s face, Lando can’t help but feel empathy for her situation. He reaches out, gently placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding.
As Lando reaches out and touches her shoulder with a comforting gesture, Y/n feels a wave of gratitude towards him. She looks at him and forces a small smile, appreciating his support.
“Thank you, Lan,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hard to see him so happy with someone else when I still have feelings for him- well, I thought I didn’t love him anymore, I thought I had moved on, but seeing him today… it just brought everything back.”
Hearing Y/n’s words, Lando clears his throat, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Y’know, Y/n, it’s completely understandable that you feel this way. Seeing an ex move on can be incredibly difficult, especially when you’re still clinging to those lingering feelings and hopes of what could have been.
He pauses, considering his words carefully. “Maybe it’s time for you to actually let go and move forward. Leave the past behind.”
In the midst of their conversation, a small tabby kitten suddenly appears and jumps into Y/n’s lap, surprising the both of them. The sudden appearance of the kitten seems to momentarily distract them from their heavy discussion.
“Whoa, where did you come from, little one?” Y/n exclaims with a surprised laugh, as she gently pets the kittens fur.
Lando chuckles and remarks, “Y’know, they say cats are surprisingly good at sensing emotions. It must have sensed your sadness, Y/n. They can absorb negative vibes like little fluffy energy absorbers.”
Y/n couldn’t help but smile at Lando’s explanation, the idea of the cat absorbing her sadness somehow comforting. “That makes sense, I guess. It’s kind of sweet, in a way,” she muses, continuing to pet the kitten which responds with a soft purr. “Maybe this kitty will absorb all of these painful emotions and turn them to into something positive.”
As if sensing the conversation, the kitten nuzzles against Y/n’s hand, it’s purring growing louder, sending gentle vibrations throughout her fingers. The warmth and innocence of the moment provide a brief respite from her emotional turmoil.
Y/n chuckles, but her laughter is tinged with bitterness. She looks down at the kitten in her lap. "I realized something earlier. I'm always be the bridesmaid, and never the bride. It’s like my destiny is to always be the supporting character in someone else’s love story, not the one who gets their own happy ending."
She sighs softly, a mixture of resignation and disappointment in her voice. “I never thought that I’d be that cliché— the forever bridesmaid, never finding true love. Yet here I am, witnessing it all unfold in front of me.”
Lando locks eyes with Y/n, his gaze sincere and filled with a hint of something more than just friendly concern. “Love has a mysterious way of hiding in the most unexpected places. Maybe… the person you’re looking for is right in front of you, and you just need to open your eyes to see it.”
His words hang in the air, leaving them both pondering the possibility of love closer than they think.
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masterlist
taglist:
@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore
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maxlarens · 2 days
Note
hi lilli! i love your fics sm, so could i possibly request oscar + brushing a strand of hair away with maybe best friend reader? tysm queen 🙏
joyce!! thank you!!! sorry it took me more than a month to do this. i sat down today to write ANOTHER george drabble and then decided no. i have to write something for oscar. it has been far too long and i miss him and he deserves it. i did this with roommate!reader which i think fits the same vibe!?
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“Hey. How you feeling?”, Oscar asks, his head sticking in through the gap in your doorway, hair lit like a halo.
You groan, turning over in bed so you’re not facing the hallway light streaming into the room. You wrangle a hand out from under your sheets, gesture for him to come inside and then shove your face back into the sweaty pillow.
“Close the door,” you add.
Oscar laughs quietly, “Bad. I take it.”
You make a mocking noise, then pat the empty side of the bed for him to sit on. Hopeful that he'll take you up on your offer, despite your apparent contagion.
“Terrible.”
You feel the bed dip as he shuffles to sit next to you. His knees pressing gently into your back from where he's sitting cross-legged. He makes a halfway sympathetic noise, then you feel his hand on your shoulder. He pats you awkwardly, in that way he is wont to do— you can't tell if he thinks you're going to give him this cold you've got, or if he's just being weird about touching you again.
Which is funny, considering.
Considering the lines you've been crossing recently.
Kissing him on the cheek when he leaves or arrives home, cuddling on the couch all the time, standing hip-to-hip in the kitchen while making dinner. Sleeping in each other's beds. But not last night, not with this flu you've got. Part of you had wanted him here, but you'd still refused when he offered.
You'd hate to get him sick with his race coming up. Or, more likely, you hate to keep living in this delusion that you know isn't real.
Yet, here he is. Checking on you first thing in the morning, crawling into your bed like it's normal. Like he belongs there.
"Poor thing," he says absently, running his fingers down your arm.
You turn to face him, body aching and your head pounding a rhythm into your skull. He looks down at you, lips pursed in a tight frown, hair a mess, t-shirt askew like he'd not even adjusted it before checking in on you. Newsflash: He hadn't.
You feel dizzy, from being ill, from his proximity. You're not sure.
He reaches forward, bringing the blankets up under your chin, then in a rare moment of hesitation he reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. It vaguely damp there, a little cold, but your skin burns where he'd brushed the shell of your ear.
"Need anything?", he asks, blinking, face as unreadable as ever.
You shake your head, but think: just you.
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just a short one for all the sick girlies out there!
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caramelkoo · 2 days
Text
kiss me? jjk.
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the one with gentle hands and endless kisses
genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook
warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.
a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.
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"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.
Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.
"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.
"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.
"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.
"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.
"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.
"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.
Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.
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The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.
When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.
Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.
After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.
However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.
Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"
When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.
"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.
His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.
"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.
"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."
The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.
"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."
When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.
Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.
Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.
Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"
You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.
He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.
"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."
So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.
Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.
After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.
"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.
You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"
"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,
"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."
He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.
"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."
Well fuck, the tears are back.
"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.
With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.
You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.
He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.
You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.
"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.
"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"
The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.
"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"
"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.
Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.
"I love kissing you"
When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.
"Honey?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"
"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"
372 notes · View notes
indecisivemuch · 2 days
Note
hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>
Message in a Bottle
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)
Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).
Word count: 4.4k (whoops)
You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 
The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 
However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).
“Luke!”
The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 
You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.
“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.
Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 
In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 
Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.
Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 
No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.
You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 
Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.
“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”
“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 
For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.
Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.
The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.
“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”
Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:
“You…”
Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—
“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 
“Yeah, but—”
“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.
Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.
“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.
“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.
“Shut up.”
Oh, you were going to be the death of him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…
While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 
Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 
Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 
Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 
Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 
Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.
But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.
Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 
However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.
Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 
Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 
Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 
“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 
Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.
“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—
“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 
“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”
“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.
“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.
There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 
Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.
You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 
Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  
Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:
“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”
Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.
Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 
Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.
“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.
Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.
“You could be the one that I love, 
I could be the one that you dream of,
Message in a bottle is all I can do, 
Standing here hoping it gets to you.”
Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.
Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 
Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.
You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.
You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—
Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 
Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.
You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 
If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 
“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.
Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 
“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.
The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.
“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”
“No—”
“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 
“I was going to.”
“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”
“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 
“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 
Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.
It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 
Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.
They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.
“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.
“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.
You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.
You know now to trust your gut feelings more.
“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.
“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.
Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 
“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”
Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 
Without hesitation, he kissed you.
Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.
Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.
A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 
Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 
You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 
“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.
“Mhm.”
“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”
“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.
“I’m not against that.” 
As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.
Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.
-------------------------
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
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Life In The Fast Lane
She's an F1 driver stranded in Oklahoma. He's a cowboy storm chaser. What more can I say?
Warnings: Talks of food and restrictive diet
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Where are you?
She looked around. God, she hadn't been here in years, not since she moved to Europe with her aunt. The gas station had always been there, but she hardly remembered it. Still, she pulled in to get her bearings, to work out where she was going. 
The gas station wasn't anything to write home about. It needed renovating, rust and rubbish everywhere. The people milling about were on their phones, not paying her any attention. That was weird, the people not knowing who she was. She was a big deal, after all. 
Her car was low key for this trip, inconspicuous. It was the car she'd gotten at seventeen, that she'd had brought over from Europe once her career took off and she was able to visit home more. 
"Somewhere in Oklahoma," she said into the phone as she looked around for some sort of indicator of where exactly in Oklahoma she was. Her GPS wasn't working, broken in both her car and phone. She was utterly lost. 
'You're supposed to be here for media day! 
She knew that, knew she was supposed to be in Texas at that minute. The idea to drive from her parents place in Enid to the track it Texas had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now she was lost, incredibly lost. 
"I'll be there before the first practice," she muttered. "Just cover me for today." 
She put the phone down as the loud, obnoxious music started. She whipped her head around and watched as the red truck pulled into the gas station. There was a guy cheering as he hung out of the window of the truck. 
People flocked to the track, the camper, and the RV behind it. They parked up, turned up the radio, and climbed out to meet their public. 
The driver of the red truck climbed out. On his head was a white cowboy hat, a pair of sunglasses covering his face. He took a sharpie from somebody's hands and started signing everything in sight. Shirts, hats,  anything he could get his hands on. 
He made his way through the crowd, giving out pictures and signing anything until he got her her. "Hey there, darlin'," he said with a charming grin. 
Before she could say anything, he took her hat from her head and decorated it with his signature. 
"What the fuck?" She snatched her hat back from him. His scrawl was now across the brim, name unintelligible to her eye. "Why the fuck would you do that?"
He still wore that stupid, charming grin as he pulled sunglasses away from his eyes. They were pretty, a fact she would later come to realise. For now, she was pissed. "You're telling me you're not a fan?"
Her face was hot as she stared up at him. "Who do you think you are?" She asked, voice low. It wasn't a question, not really. A challenge, one he would have been stupid to take. 
Stupid or clueless. 
But he didn't take the challenge. The man from beside him did. "You're sayin' you haven't heard of Tyler Owens?" He asked and laughed, shaking his head as he walked away. 
They were having too much fun, whoever they were. Placing her hat back on her head, she muttered obscenities as she made her way back back to the car. Even if she knew where she was going, there was no way to navigate around all of the vehicles now filling the gas station. She supposed she had Tyler Owens to thank for that. 
Her head hit the horn and she didn't stop the noise. Eyes were on her. Maybe some of them recognised her. Who was she kidding, everybody was here for Tyler Owens. 
He watched her, too. Still signing shirts and pictures, but he glanced back at her every so often. The only other people he'd met in this sort of setting that hadn't desperately wanted his signature was Storm Par. And Storm Par certainly hadn't reacted like that. 
There was a full minute where the only sound in the gas station was her horn, her head firmly planted in the middle of the steering wheel. Her hat, the one that now held his signature, was gone, tossed into the back somewhere. 
Fuck, he almost felt sorry for her. 
She lifted her head and the noise stopped. Throwing it back, she closed her eyes. She was saying something, but the car around her kept the noise in. 
Signing just a few more pictures, Tyler approached. His boots crunched the gravel beneath his feet and his sunglasses hid any emotion that could have been read on his race. He still wore that grin, the one that made him seem like a cocky asshole. It always would, until he took the glasses off. 
His knuckles tapped lightly on her window. 
She glared at him as she pressed the button to lower the window. "What do you want?" She asked, expression set. 
It was kind of terrifying, but Tyler didn't falter. "Are you okay?" He asked, leaning against the door. 
She raised her eyebrows at him and turned to face forward. No, she wouldn't entertain this. He was a dick, and he wasn't trying to hide it. 
"I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong."
Good, she didn't want his help. His whole reason for helping was to boost his own ego, she figured. She'd met his kind before, usually had it out with them in some of the fastest vehicles in world. 
Grabbing her cap, she placed it on her head. She couldn't ro up the window, not with the way he was holding it. "I know this area pretty well," he began, leaning forward so that the brim of his obnoxiously large hat was in the car with her. "If you're lost, which, I think you are, I might be able to help."
Taking him up on his offer of help. It would have meant swallowing her pride and accepting the fact that she couldn't do it on her own. "No, thank you." She forced and smile and then looked down at her phone. 
It was late. The sky was already beginning to turn orange and there was no way she was going to reach her destination before the darkness set in. "I'm just gonna find a motel and hunker down for the night." 
She started the engine. "Oh, the nearest motel is-" But she was already winding up her window, not giving him a chance to finish his sentence before she sped off, driving around those in her way with incredible skill. 
A name had been on her hat, Tyler had been looking at it the whole time that they had been talking. It might not have been her name, but there was only one way to find out. 
It took her a little while to find a motel. When she pulled into the parking lot, the red truck and its accompanying vehicles were already there. There he sat, tinkering with the pile of crap on the top of his truck. His eyes followed her car as she  pulled into a parking spot, as far away as she could get from him, grabbed her bags from the back, and marched towards the motel reception. 
He kept watching as she paid for the night, grabbed the key, and marched out of the reception. "See you finally found it," Tyler asked as he grabbed his beer. "Took you long enought, for an F1 driver." He said the last bit so quietly, but she still heard it. 
Stopping in her tracks, she turned back towards him. "What the hell did you just say to me?" 
He nodded towards her hat. "I googled you," he replied. "You're a racer, right?" 
A huff left her lips and she folded her arms over her chest. "You googled me?"
He gave a quick nod and sipped his beer. "You should try googlin' me back at some point." 
The laugh that left her lips was melodic, had a light dusting of pink on Tyler's cheeks. "You actually want me to Google you?" She asked and he gave a quick nod. But then the smile dropped from her face all together "You're fucking creepy," she said and walked away. 
His face was entirely red at that. She turned on her heel and walked away, making her way to her own room. 
The rest of Tyler's group of Storm chasers laughed as they looked at him. Face completely red, eyes following her movements until she locked herself in her motel room. "Tyler has a crush!" Boone sang. His laugh was infectious, had everybody else laughing with him. 
"Shut up, Boone," Tyler mumbled, but he couldn't hide his own smile. She was a tough nut to crack, but he was going to be the one to do it.
***ED TRIGGER WARNING FROM HERE TO THE END***
"Tyler Owens," she mumbled as she typed his name into the search bar of her laptop. Emails popped up on the bottom right hand corner of her screen, but she ignored it. She knew she was supposed to be in Texas, knew she was so close to missing the first practice session. It was fine. If she set off as soon as the sun rose, she would be fine. 
She pressed search and waited for the results to appear. The motel WiFi was shitty, forcing her to wait an age before the results appeared. 
There was his face. He was handsome, but she hated it. His face just invited her fist. That was it: He had a handsome, punchable face. She scrolled down until she got to a link to his YouTube Channel. "What the hell is a Tornado Rangler?" She mumbled and clicked on the video. 
It was a live stream, edited down to a more consumable format. His voice was loud and clear through her speakers, had her scrambling to turn down the volume on her laptop. 
It was actually kind of incredible. She watched as he drove into a tornado, anchored himself down and shot fireworks inside of it. It was stupid and dangerous, but wasn't everything she did stupid and dangerous? 
She hated that she was impressed. 
As soon as the knock came at her door, she slammed down the lid of her laptop and scrambled off of the bed. Her feet were half in her shoes as she made her way to the door and looked through the peep hole. 
The groan that left her lips was audible, loud enough for him to hear through the door. But he didn't back away like she hoped. Reluctantly, she pulled open the door. "What do you want, Owens?" 
He had expected her to be cold, indifferent towards him. But she just sounded so tired, so defeated. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tyler opened the box in his hands. 
A pizza box. She hadn't even seen it when she opened the door. It smelled like shit. Not literal shit, no, it smelt good. But it smelt like food she shouldn't be eaten on a race weekend. 
"I brought a peace offering," he said, waving it around slightly. God, it was mouthwatering. That cheese looked like that stringy stuff that made the slice never ending. 
She swallowed, which was the wrong move. The smell was inside of her, begging her to grab a slice and just taste it. 'C'mon', the voice in the back of her head said. 'Just a bite. You won't make it to Cota for the race, anyway'. 
She shook her head, as if that would banish the voice, and blinked. "You know I can't eat this stuff, right?" 
Tyler looked at the pizza, and back at her. She didn't just sound tired and defeated, she looked it, too. But he let that charming, handsome, punchable grin cross his face. "C'mon, you don't have to have all of it. We can share." 
"Generous." She rolled her eyes.
But he just looked so... not pathetic. That wasn't the word she was looking for. But he looked like a kicked puppy who just wanted her comfort.
With another groan, she stepped to the side and let him in. 
My darlings, do we have another series on our hands?
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jasminumdew · 2 days
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Sylus (werewolf)
Notes: I loveee primal play, it was so fun writing this. I actually finished this about 10 days ago, but a big typhoon went through my place and cut out all power, water, and Internet for a few days, I decided to wait until there was Wi-Fi connection, didn’t think it would be this long. But everything’s fine now, hope you guys enjoy this ^^
Warnings: MDNI, he says “kitten” 3-4 times, pure smut, primal play, chasing through the wood, squirting x2, oral (fem received), piv, knotting, overstimulated
Wc: 1,7k
Event host: @nanamiscocksleeve
Summary: Being in a relationship with a werewolf comes with indulging in his instinct to hunt, and you’re more than happy to being his prey. With this being your first time in this scene, you and Sylus have planned out everything beforehand, he insisted on making sure you’re comfortable and won’t get hurt. It’s simple. You run and he chases after, then when he catches you, you need to act as if you don’t know him, and just unfortunately bump into a werewolf and fight back when that monster tries to mate with you. Sounds hot and easy enough. Ready? Run!
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You’re out of breath. Barely a few minutes in this cat and mouse game and you’re already exhausted. You curse under your breath how you should’ve exercised more often for this. But how common it is to be chased in the wood by a werewolf? Your legs were screaming for a break for 10 minutes now. Or was it more? You don’t have any concept of time now, being alone in the dark cold wood, surrounded by darkness and relying solely on the faint light from the moon.
You can hear hardly hear anything besides the sounds of your heavy breath, your legs thumping on the dry grass, and the occasional howl of the beast chasing after you. You don’t know if he is still watching you in the shadow or that you’ve successfully cut your track. But the chances are thin, werewolf are famous for their extraordinary hearing and smelling ability. There’s no way you’ll be able to escape this wood without his canine mark deep into your flesh. Running away from him seems like a really bad idea now that you’re realizing it. Making yourself a small and easy prey to the mighty predator, who gets off on the high adrenaline of this little chasing game. It’s not like you can go back and make a different choice. So you run fast, completely oblivious to where you’re heading to, playing the dangerous game with no way out.
No matter how carefully you planned things out, it still didn’t prepare you for how intense it actually is, deep in the wood with no flashlight in hand, eyes hardly adjusted when everywhere looks just the same. Sylus knows this place in the back of his hand, you know he won’t let anything bad happen and you can trust him with your life, but your heart still beating like a drum, loud and clear in your ears.
Your whole body was burning, demanding for a rest. You hide yourself low, under the thick bush near an old white oak tree. You press your hands on the chest, forcing yourself to keep your breathing and heartbeat to quiet down. You heard an echo caw of a crow nearby, other than those, it’s all too quiet. Strangely so. You peak your head to watch out for any sign that he’s approach closer. Then you hear it, the sounds of a huge beast searching for its sweet prey, too big to hide his presence. You know for a fact that you can only hear him if he chooses to let you, you’re completely in his control. He doesn’t rush, just slowly goes through the surrounding, playing a little mind game with his prey, making her always on guard and overstimulated by fear.
The sudden grunting from behind your neck sends chill down your spine. Your body’s complete frozen, as if you think if you don’t move and keep your breathing even, you’ll disappear from his vision. But you understand it’s the only chance you get before being his meal tonight. Your legs quickly move but to no avail, you couldn’t even run away a few steps before being pushed to the ground on your back, making you yelp from pain. Under the moonlight, a massive wolf lays itself on top of you, heavy weight knocks the remaining air out of your lungs.
His red eyes staring deep into yours, it reminds you of the fresh color of blood, and you, being the center of those, will soon be swallowed whole by it. What looks like a huge wolf shifts into a more human-like one, returning to a hairless body, still bigger than any man you’ve encountered, with his hair the same shade as the pale moon that’s now shining down on his silhouette. Your cheeks and ears turn bright red, observing his naked body, prominent abs and full muscles. Focus focus focus. You chant in your head like casting some kind of spell. You try your best to fight back, pushing his jaw away from your face, biting his hand, kicking him, only to get laugh at. “Come on, struggle a little more for me, kitten”. His deep voice sends a wave of arousal deep to your core, scratches an itch deep down inside you that you tried to hide. “Shut up” you snap, your legs pull to your chest, kicking his belly with your whole strength. His hands grab your ankles with ease, letting your thighs rest on his broad shoulders. Then before you have the time to react, he pushes up your top to your wrists, tying your poor shirt like a bow to keep you from squirming. “There, all nice and pretty. Wrapped like a present for me huh?”, he smirks, kissing your inner thighs through your leggings.
“Let me go you disgusting pervert!”
He doesn’t faze by your words, but instead, his hands find their way to your waistband, pulling it down to your ankles. He hums in amusement with a clear view of your core soaking wet, your pretty clit clenching as if begging for some friction. “Are you sure I’m the pervert here, sweetheart?” he teases, before kissing his way down from your belly, to your inner thighs, then he dives right in, devouring you without mercy. He’s such a messy eater, slurping and sucking on your bundle of nerves so eagerly like he’s gone for days without anything in his stomach. You cry out the sweetest moans, can’t move away from his tongue abusing your sensitive bud, his hands have your thighs in a dead grip, refusing to let go even when you’re twitching and sniffling. You cum hard in his mouth, squirting like a small fountain and he slurps it all in with a satisfying hum.
You let out a shaky breath when his mouth finally left your pussy, drenching in the mixture of your shared fluids. But the relief doesn’t stay for long when you notice his rock-hard cock in his hand, the tip has an angry red shade and his knot swells uncomfortably, waiting to be buried deep inside your wall. He pushes through your first ring with a throaty grunt. You’re always tighter after your first orgasm. Sucking on your neck right on top of his mating bite mark, his cock touches all sweet spots of yours, making you squeeze down on him unconsciously. His red eyes never leave yours, capturing your every expression, every gasp and moan, how your soul seems to be sucked out of your body every time his tip brushes through her cervix.
Your wetness makes it all too easy for his knot to slip in than usual, but he still feeds his knot to you slowly to let you adjust to his size. Your cunt’s so overstimulated with his knot keeps pushing in and out, brushing through your small beans. “Please...” you cry out, wishing your hands were untied so you can reach down and rub it until you reach your peak.
“Hmm? What’s that?” he asks, not even bothering to mask the smugness in his voice.
“Touch me” you plead, gasping for air when he grinds on it more. He turns his head, looking clueless, “But I am touching you, darling? Be more specific and I might give it to you”
Ughh you want to slap his face so badly. He knows what you want and chooses to be mean about it when you crave him so much. His touch feels so good, the only thing you need now is to cum on his thick, veiny cock and squeezing his knot until he burst inside you.
“I need you to rub my clit, I want to cum so bad, please please please I beg you” you whine, clenching down on him oh so sweetly to make him pleased. “Good girl” he chuckles, massaging your sweet spot with his thumb, you whine in pleasure, arching your back. Taking all of his knot, he bites down on your neck, grinding into your G-spot so hard you can see stars. His grinding turns sloppy, he kisses you when you cum together, and that to you was the most heavenly feeling ever.
When you can catch your breath, his thumb moves again, drawing tight circles around your poor clit. “No, please, I can’t anymore” you cry out. He coos, “Yes you can, give me one more, kitten”. His tongue swirls around your nipple before sucking it in, playing with the other with his free hand. A tight knot unravels too fast, you didn’t get to warn him before squirting again, making a mess on his abdomen and thighs. You can feel him twitching inside, the warm fluid paints your wall white again.
He rolls over, careful not to hurt you with his knot, and lets you lie on top of him. He frees your hands from your now creasy shirt and strokes your cheek. “How was it?”. You rest your head on his shoulder, answer sleepily. “I really enjoyed it. Though my legs probably won’t be able to move tomorrow after all those running…and banging” you giggle, breathing in your mate’s scent. Then, suddenly remember something, your head jerks up. “Did you use Mephisto to cheat, Sy? I heard a crow with a very annoying voice, guess you’re not that good at hunting”.
He pinches your cheek, “Are you underestimating my ability? I don’t need assistance when your sweet scent leads me straight to your hiding place”. You yelp, holding your sore cheek and glaring at him. “That’s not fair. I’ll rub all kinds of smells on me next time so you’ll be distracted and I can win for once”. His answer makes your body tingle. “That won’t work because I can recognize my mate’s scent no matter what. Besides, you love it when I win, don’t you kitten?”
You huff in annoyance, hiding your grin in his chest. It won’t be long until his cock starts twitching again, better rest while you can, you have a long long night ahead.
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borathae · 2 days
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↳ Index [Snippet #50 - Roundie]
"When Jungkook accidentally gives himself a bowl cut."
Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff
Warnings: just Kookie being the cutest and roundest, she teases him for messing up his haircut, and he playfully bites her cheek for it, they're so in love, snuggles and kisses hihi
Wordcount: 1.3k
a/n: i don't have to mention what i was inspired by LIKE he is so cute you have no idea i love him so much it's actually insane :( this is also something that ogc!googie would do so i wanted to be self-indulgent and write it ihihiih <3 have fun besties 🧡
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“No!” 
You heard your husband exclaim this one small word around twenty minutes ago and haven't heard a word from him since. Only the blow dryer, which has been running the last few minutes, can be heard.
You and Jungkook are on a romantic holiday in Japan because the land is especially nice this time around to explore by motorbike. You are currently staying in an Airbnb somewhere in the Japanese mountains. The architecture and furniture is traditional with a hint of modern and the house offers a small private spa area. You and Jungkook have already enjoyed it earlier today, but decided to call it quits for now. You currently find yourself on the sofa in your pyjamas, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, while your husband locked himself up in the bathroom. 
Except for his very enthusiastic and shocked “No!” you haven’t heard from him. That changes however right this instant when the blow dryer stops and the door unlocks. 
“Baby?” 
“Yes, Kook?”
You can’t see him yet, talking louder to make up for the distance. Judging from his voice coming closer, he is walking to you. 
“So, remember how I told you that my hair is getting too long?” 
You set down your book.
“What did you do?” 
“Okay so, hah, funny story. So okay, you know how we met when we were both nineteen, yeah?” 
“Yes?” 
“Okay cool and I looked really sexy and handsome and mature?” 
“Thinking back, you still looked very boyish back then, but I guess yeah you did. Why? What did you do?” 
“Did you ever wonder what I looked like when I was fifteen?” 
“Jeon Jungkook stop the riddles, what did you do?”
He crosses the corner, appearing in your vision. You instantly crack up, coughing out laughter and pointing your finger at him. He gave himself the roundest and cutest bowl cut ever, looking like a teen with it. 
“What did you do? Baby, oh my god”, you laugh loudly.
“I cut the bangs too short. I tried to save them by cutting the sides, but then I had to match the back too and I gave myself a bowl cut.”
“You look so adorable, I can’t believe it”, you say, stumbling to your feet so you can run to him and touch his hair, “you have the roundest head ever. You’re basically a circle.”
“I’m not a circle. Baby”, he whines and pouts.
You snicker, fluffing up his sides. They instantly fall back into their natural bowl cut state.
“I can’t believe it, you turned yourself into a boba ball. God, look at you. It’s like you aged backwards.”
“It’s the same stupid hairstyle I had in middle school. Baby, please tell me I’m handsome, I’m a sad doofus right now.”
“You’re the most handsome circle ever.”
He nudges you gently, furrowing his brows.
“Shut up, you’re not helping.”
You cackle, now fumbling with his bangs. 
“Of course you’re handsome, my sweetie. I’ve never seen you with your hair like this before, I love it a lot”, you say and tug on his bangs softly. They instantly bounce back into their bowl cut state, reflecting the lights from just how shiny and round his hair is. You snicker, “god it’s so cute. You’re adorable.”
“I'm neither cute nor adorable. I’m manly and sexy. Urgh, I ruined myself.” He whines and drops his head on your Shoulder. “I'll accept it if you divorce me now.”
“Divorce-ha!” You laugh loudly, giving his butt a playful spank, “you dramatic baby, you. I already told you that I love it. You’re very handsome and of course, very manly and sexy.”
He lifts his head, giving you a small grin. 
“But…also very cute and adorable.”
He furrows his brows, opening his mouth.
You instantly silence him, “which is a good thing because it means I wanna cuddle you even more often.”
“Wait. This is a good thing”, he says, making you chuckle.
“It is. Gosh you, let me take a picture. You’re so adorable.” 
“If you must.”
Despite his initial complaints, Jungkook ends up posing with pouted lips and his hand throwing up a peace sign. It’s his signature pose he does in pictures and he looks very adorable tonight. You giggle at the picture, putting it as your lock screen. You show it to him.
“Look, now when someone asks me about you, I can tell them I’m married to a roundie.” 
“You”, Jungkook points his finger at you. “Stop it.” 
You cackle. 
His features soften, a warm smile washes over his face. He gives up with a fond scoff and a little chuckle, closing the distance by grabbing your waist and pulling you snug against him. You and he sway from side to side, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. You have your arms hooked behind his head.
“You’re lucky that you’re so cute, otherwise I would have to bite your cheeks for your annoying antics”, he says.
“Mhm bite my cheeks you say? Ohoho mister what a thread, especially coming from a life sized choco ball such as yourself.”
“Yah”, he complains and gives your buttocks a squeeze. 
“Sorry, sorry last one I promise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you snicker, rubbing his neck in apology. 
Jungkook chuckles, rubbing his hands over your buttocks innocently. 
“It’s insane how good it fits you. Up close, you can really tell that you fucked it up, but it looks so good on you that it’s not even bad that you fucked it up.” 
“Is it really bad?”
“No, not at all. Your bangs are a little choppy, but it’s cute. Very handsome. Gosh”, you squish his cheeks, “your eyes look even prettier with this hair. It’s like they’re supporting each other’s roundieness. You’re seriously so handsome.” 
Jungkook smiles shyly, “thanks, heh. Roundieness isn’t even a word by the way.”
“It is now.” 
Jungkook simply furrows his brows and goes in for the attack. He bites your cheek. Gently of course. 
“Yah”, you step back, wiping the saliva from your skin. 
“I warned you and you wouldn’t listen. Consequences of your own actions, missy.”
“Don’t talk to me about consequences of my own actions, Mister Accidental Bowl Cut Which Aged Him Back Decades.”
Jungkook laughs and hugs your waist. You chuckle.
“Come on you, let’s go to bed and cuddle.”
“Yay cuddles. I swear today drained me. I almost fell asleep in the hot spring.” 
“Baby, you fell asleep. I had to hold your head so you wouldn’t accidentally drown.”
“I guess I did. I couldn’t help it. It was warm and cozy. I felt very relaxed.”
You and he get under the same blanket. He lies down on his side, you face him. His bangs fall to one side, now looking like those typical two thousand tens bangs every teenage boy had back then. 
You play with them, eyes spilling over with love.
“If I had met you back then, I so would have had a crush on you.”
“Really?”
“Mhm totally. You would have been my type. You are my type, but you get what I mean.”
“I do, yeah.” He smiles and reaches out to play with your hair. “You would have been my type too. Your mom showed me pictures of you when you were a teen and I would have had such a crush on you back then.”
“Oh god”, you chuckle, “I was such a mess though. Did she show you the pic of my clip in leopard print hair strands I rocked with black eyeliner?” 
“Of course she did. You totally rocked them.”
“No I didn't, I looked ridiculous.”
“At least you didn’t look like a circle.”
You laugh, “mhm maybe, but you’re the most handsome circle I have ever seen”, you say, pushing him to his back and climbing on his lap.
Jungkook holds your hips instantly, purring his words as he gazes at your lips.
“Yeah? I’m a handsome circle?”
“Mhhm the most handsome.”
“Hah, come and kiss me, baby.”
You smile, he smiles, sharing a breathy chuckle and little moan with you.
“Kiss me, please.”
“Fuck Kook, I can’t get enough of you”, you say and pull him into a deep kiss. 
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