#not saying that I'm not usually weird here. but I'm gonna be more weird | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot. “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally. “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something? How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip. “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that. “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done. Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded. “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly. “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that. For fun. It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy. “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you. “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer. He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself.

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh. He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself. When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet. You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before. It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was. Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed. You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now. It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight. You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you.

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you. But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out. Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax. The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust.

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you. “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster. “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again. It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college. But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself. It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control. Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake. “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little. “So polite,” he cooed. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told. His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined.

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly. “Right now? Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever. “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again. “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way. “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath. “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed. “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened. He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression. Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that. You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight. “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before. Fuck. That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye. “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his. He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow. The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him. “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw. “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath. He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter. “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down. “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked. “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily. “But if they found out—”

“So? They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl. Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked. “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled. “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently. Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real.

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly. The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance. When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways. “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said. He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you. “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before. You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it. He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy. The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more. “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already. He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair. He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently.

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin.

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly.

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you. He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that? What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it. “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too. “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me. You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going. When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy.

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him. You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all. This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee). This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look. Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way. He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him. He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you. This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy rpf

8K notes · View notes

pupyuj · 9 months ago

Text

→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...

word count: 10.6k

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.

content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.

requested? : kind of!

a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe

p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—

previous: magic words.

jang wonyoung was late.

to class.

which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to—

“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”

you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!

ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.

everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!

“come on, baby. give me a show.”

you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?

a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.

oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.

(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.

no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.

but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)

thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.

the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.

you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.

you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.

“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.

“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”

“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.

you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.

“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.

“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.

“w-what?!”

“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”

“oh, right!”

you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”

jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.

“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.

“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.

“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.

“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.

gosh, this school was a nightmare.

nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.

but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?

you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.

you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.

wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!

it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.

things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.

so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.

the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?

you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.

when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…

“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”

ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!

“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.

“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.

“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”

you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.

“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.

the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.

the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.

it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.

regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.

“wonyoung…”

the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.

you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.

“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.

“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.

it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.

“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.

“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.

“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone.

“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”

“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”

“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.

all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.

“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.

given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”

the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.

“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.

“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.

you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…

“okay.”

wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.

“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.

“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you.

oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.

getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?

it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.

you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.

“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”

soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.

“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.

“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)

you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.

“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.

“no.”

surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.

just like last time.

“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.

“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”

and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.

god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.

“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”

fuck, that was gonna do you in.

too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.

“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.

the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.

but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!

you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.

“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.

you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.

immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”

wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.

“well, consent is important—”

“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.

leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.

your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take everything i’m giving to you today.”

scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.

only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.

wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.

“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”

wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”

wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…

you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.

she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.

why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!

“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.

it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.

“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”

wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.

“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.

wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.

“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”

you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.

it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.

“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.

you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?

(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)

“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.

wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.

she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.

so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.

“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.

wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!

“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.

much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver.

finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.

you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion.

you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?

“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does.

“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”

“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited.

you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.

“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.

when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.

“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.

“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.

“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.

“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!

although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.

for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.

there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.

you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.

“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.

“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.

“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”

“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!

“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.

“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”

inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.

but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.

“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.

“i knew it!”

once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.

“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.

because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!

“is that…”

wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.

“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes.

the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.

“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”

wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”

1K notes · View notes

possessedmen · 5 days ago

Text

The Spell of Desire

In the dim light of the evening, Ezra, a reserved art history major, returned to his university dorm room, his mind preoccupied with his unrequited feelings for his roommate, Brandon. Brandon was the epitome of a college jock—muscular, charismatic, and, to Ezra's knowledge, straight. Their shared living space was a constant reminder of what Ezra couldn't have.

As Ezra entered, he froze at the sight before him. There, sprawled on his bed, was Brandon, or so he thought, in all his naked glory. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and Brandon's usual confident demeanor seemed replaced by a strange vulnerability.

"Brandon, what the hell?" Ezra managed, his voice a mix of shock and intrigue.

The man on the bed shifted, sitting up with a look of flustered confusion. "Hey, Ezra, uh, I was just... I thought I'd surprise you. You know, with a, um, prank. Yeah, a prank," he said, his voice not quite matching Brandon's usual deep timbre. It was higher, more nervous.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A prank? Since when do you prank me by getting naked on my bed?"

"Well, you know, I've been feeling a bit adventurous lately. Wanted to spice things up around here. Plus, it's hot, and I thought, why not cool off a bit?" The faux-Brandon chuckled awkwardly, trying to mimic the easy laugh of the jock.

Ezra couldn't help but let his gaze linger over the body that was supposed to be Brandon's. There was something off, something not quite right in the way he moved, the way he spoke. "You're acting weird, Brandon. What's really going on?"

"Okay, okay, you got me. I'm not Brandon. I'm Theo. Theo from your literature class. I... I used this old spell book I found in the library. I swapped bodies with Brandon because I've been crushing on you for ages. I wanted to be close to you, to... to see if you felt the same."

Ezra's eyes widened, the pieces falling into place. "You swapped bodies with Brandon? With black magic?"

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy. I'm sorry, I'll reverse it, I just—"

"No, wait," Ezra said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "If you're going to be Brandon, let's make this believable. What would Brandon say now?"

Theo, still in shock, tried to think on his feet. "Uh, he'd probably say something like, 'Hey, roomie, you caught me. Now, what are you gonna do about it?'"

Ezra chuckled, "That's more like it." He began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned physique slowly, deliberately. "And what would Brandon do next?"

Theo swallowed hard, his borrowed body looking out of place with the expression of a shy nerd. "He'd probably... um, flex a bit, show off, right?" He awkwardly flexed one of Brandon's muscular arms.

"Close, but let's make it more... intimate," Ezra suggested, letting his shirt fall to the floor. He climbed onto the bed, his body close to Theo's, the heat between them palpable. "So, 'Brandon', what do you think of this?"

Theo's eyes followed Ezra's movements, his breathing quickening. "I... I think you look good, Ezra. Really good."

"Shh, just keep being Brandon," Ezra instructed, a playful smirk on his lips as he leaned in, capturing Theo's lips in a kiss that was both exploratory and demanding. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, "What would Brandon say if I kissed him like that?"

Theo, encouraged by Ezra's seduction, began to settle into Brandon's identity. "He'd probably say, 'Damn, Ezra, you're full of surprises. But I like 'em.'" His voice was gaining confidence, mimicking Brandon's casual arrogance.

Ezra laughed softly, his breath warm against Theo's skin. "And what would he do?"

Theo, now more playful, pulled Ezra closer, his hands finding his waist with a newfound boldness. "He'd pull you in like this, and say, 'You wanna play, roomie? Let's play.'"

Ezra let out a low moan, "Good. Now, what would Brandon want next?"

Theo, channeling Brandon's confident, friendly arrogance, whispered, "He'd want you to join him, to make this moment even more real." His voice was steady now, playful and teasing.

Ezra's eyes sparkled with desire. "Is that so? Well, let's not disappoint 'Brandon' then." With a fluid motion, Ezra undid his belt, letting his pants slide off, joining Theo on the bed fully. "What's next, 'Brandon'?"

Theo, feeling the heat of Ezra's body against his own, grinned, "He'd probably say, 'You're making this too easy, Ezra. But I like it.' And then maybe he'd..." Theo hesitated for a moment before continuing with a smirk, "He'd start kissing your neck, right?"

Ezra tilted his head back slightly, giving Theo access, his voice low and seductive, "Go on then, show me how 'Brandon' does it."

With a newfound confidence, Theo leaned in, his lips brushing against Ezra's neck, planting kisses that were firm and teasing, just as Brandon might do. He felt the thrill of embodying the jock's persona, the playful arrogance coming naturally now. "You like that, huh, Ezra?" Theo asked, his voice now a perfect mimic of Brandon's casual, cocky tone.

Ezra chuckled, his voice a soft moan, "Yeah, I do. What’s next Brandon?"

Theo's hands roamed over Ezra's back, pulling him closer with a confident grip. "I'd probably want to feel more of you, to make sure you're as into this as I am." His fingers traced the line of Ezra's spine with a deliberate slowness, savoring the reaction he elicited.

Ezra, feeling the shift in Theo's demeanor, whispered, "And what would you say if we went further?"

Theo, fully immersed in Brandon's identity, smirked, "Finally, took you long enough, man. Let's see what you've got." His tone was playful, almost challenging, as he watched Ezra's hands move to the blanket covering him.

Ezra smiled, his hands moving to pull the blanket away, revealing Theo fully. "Then let's not keep 'Brandon' waiting." As the blanket fell, Ezra took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes dark with desire. "You look good, 'Brandon'. Really good."

"You know, Ezra, you've always been too fucking quiet for your own good," Theo said, his voice a low, teasing growl that was unmistakably Brandon's. "Let's see if we can make you scream tonight."

Ezra, his heart racing with anticipation, looked up at Theo with a mix of excitement and surrender. "Show me then, 'Brandon'."

Theo smirked, the cocky grin that was so characteristic of Brandon spreading across his face. He leaned down, his lips capturing Ezra's in a kiss that was commanding, leaving no room for doubt about who was in charge. His hands roamed over Ezra's body with purpose, guiding him to lie back on the bed.

With a fluid motion, Theo positioned himself above Ezra, his movements confident and assured. "You ready for this, roomie? 'Cause I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance and a vulgar edge.

Ezra nodded, his breath hitching as he felt Theo's presence so close, so dominant. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Theo, now fully embracing the role of Brandon, didn't hesitate. He took Ezra's hands, pinning them gently above his head, his gaze intense. "Good, because I'm not holding back, you little slut," he whispered, his tone a mix of promise and challenge.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the rustle of sheets, and the low, appreciative moans from Ezra as Theo explored his body with a deliberate slowness, savoring each reaction. Theo's touch was firm, his movements those of someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was Ezra.

As Theo prepared to take the lead, he maintained eye contact, ensuring Ezra was with him every step of the way. "You're gonna love this, Ezra," Theo said, his voice confident, as he positioned himself.

Ezra, caught in the throes of desire, could only nod, his body responding eagerly to Theo's dominance. The moment was charged with an electric intensity as Theo, embodying Brandon's assertiveness and vulgar charm, began to move with a rhythm that was both commanding and raw.

Their connection deepened with each thrust, each movement a testament to Theo's complete immersion into Brandon's identity. Ezra's moans grew louder, his hands gripping the sheets as Theo took him to heights of pleasure he hadn't known before.

"You like that, huh, you dirty boy?" Theo teased, his voice a husky whisper in Ezra's ear, maintaining the playful arrogance that had become his second nature. "Tell me how much you fucking love it."

"I... I love it," Ezra managed between gasps, his body arching into Theo's with every motion. "You act like him so well, Theo. You've made him so fucking edgy, and I love it."

As they reached the peak of their passion, Theo's confidence never wavered, his control over the situation absolute. The culmination of their encounter was explosive, leaving them both breathless and satisfied, as Theo came inside Ezra with a groan that was all Brandon's vulgar satisfaction.

In the quiet that followed, Ezra turned to Theo, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, if you could really stay as Brandon, I wouldn't mind at all. You could stay like this forever."

Theo chuckled, still in character, playing up the confusion with an ironic twist. "Stay as Brandon? What are you talking about, man? I am Brandon, you idiot. Always have been," he replied with a smirk, his tone playful yet convincing in its irony.

Then, as he lay there, still inside Ezra, Theo added with a mix of sincerity and vulgarity, "But you know what, Ezra? Your hole makes me crazy like no girl ever did. Fucking you, it's... it's something else, man."

Ezra laughed, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. "Right, 'Brandon', right. But seriously, you're incredible like this."

Theo, or 'Brandon', pulled Ezra closer, their bodies still intertwined. "Well, then, let's keep this going, roomie. Because I'm not going anywhere." And with that, they drifted into a contented sleep, the boundaries of their reality blurred by the magic of the night, the playful deception of identity, and the unique intimacy they had discovered.

#male takeover #male bodyswap #identity theft

362 notes · View notes

xxxpu55yslay3rxxx · 1 year ago

Text

So in other words, tumblr architecture enforces this shit lmao. This just verifies my crackpot theory that Tumblr rots your brain unless you are self aware about it.

Also I'd like to add, tumblr's commenting system sucks! Character limit that they don't tell you about, every single time you want to reply to anybody you have to tag them, making that shit look messy. Also for the fact that it just shows comments out of order sometimes. If ordered by latest first, you'll see recent comments on top sometimes even if you shouldn't.

Fuck it, let me be unhinged on the last line:

Tumblr ontologically fucking sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Google+ was better!!!!!!!!!! the less this site acts like tumblr and more like good social media, the better!!!!!!!!

i think tumblr structurally encourages pissing on the poor

epistemic confidence: medium. (i always wanted to say that). this is amateur sociology and so should be taken with quite a bit of salt. this is absolutely a just-so story.

i think part of the reason tumblr and other similar social media websites have such a problem with misinterpretation is that conversational repair works differently than other forms of communication.

if you're talking in a group of people (over voice or over 'synchronous' communications like irc/discord that encourage short messages and paying attention) and someone responds in a way that indicates they misinterpreted you, you can interrupt them. and importantly, everyone else in the conversation hears you interrupting them. on a traditional forum with linear posts, you can't interrupt them, but anyone that reads all the posts (which, granted, isn't everyone) will eventually see your clarifying reply.

but on tumblr, if you make a post, X reblogs it with a misinterpretation, and you reply/reblog correcting X's interpretation, you have no way of notifying everyone that saw it from X; people generally don't go back and reread the notes on old posts, unlike forums where you'd typically read the threads you participate in. so the misinterpretation spreads.

and of course there's the whole 'screenshot this post to make fun of it' thing (which i'm not immune to, although i'm trying to do it less). it's obvious that screenshotting part of a post makes it even easier to misinterpret it, and i suspect that at this point for some people the mere presence of the "underwater" filter is enough to prime a "this is a bad opinion, i should disagree with it" reflex! and you can't go "hang on, that's not what i meant".

anyway. don't take this as like an iron law of social media or a thing that is definitely 100% true. but it's something i've been thinking about.

#nothing much to add but my venting senses saying I should. I'm holding it back for you OP‚ but am gonna do it in tags :3. Sovwy in advance #Fuck tumblr lmao. I genuinely feel like it's reblog structure is like a prison. The reasons are listed already in OP but gonna add more #Because tumblr reblogs 'add' to the post instead of being 'quote' in other social medias‚ it pushes agreement over contrarianism usually #That means the original idea/sentiment of a post get's boosted without it's ideas being challenged. That is bad epistemology #Nobody wants to be hit with the 'sorry my follower added that to your post' cake for even slight disagreements so better just parrot things #or they don't wanna get soft dogpiled by rando tumblr users so disagreements become minimal. It's why I think circlejerks happen much here #& let me tell you‚ that shit makes me MALD. People so smug here over “no algorithms 🥰” but really it's just that they socially enforce ...#... ideas through 'Tumblr culture' rather than the need for algorithms. Feels like a naturally enforced Hive mind at times 😡😡#Last thing: so other soc meds posting works like a nested function (quotes) while tumblr's reblogs function like a 'newline' script #and if you add to that script and people don't like it‚ they think you're ruining the script. So your part of the project gets cut/ignored #rant done 👍#Actually fuck it still angry that someone came up with this post before me #I've been making meta posts for months now and I was planning to make that great meta posts that discusses how the architecture affects...#... behavior here. Mad because I consider myself a tumblr outsider and I feel like the perfect person to make it‚ not a tumblr regular 😡#I realise this makes me look so unhinged 😔😔😔 but I don't care. Rant officially done 👍👍#OP Please don't block me for this‚ I am agreeing with you here mostly. I just tend to be very weird/passionate about this topic

559 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 3 months ago

Text

SSR Jack Howl - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

Back home, I'd have my family to celebrate with, but here... I wonder what kind of birthday tomorrow will bring.

Summon: Doesn't matter to me if it's my birthday or not. I'll just do what I gotta do.

Groovification: Today's a special day. I'll make sure to put special care into styling my hair today so it doesn't end up lookin' lame!

Home: I gotta put my homework away.

Swap Looks: What type of protein should I go with...?

Home Transition 1: I'd always just be wearing a shirt and cardigan back home, too. It's much easier to regulate my temperature if I'm wearing a jacket or something.

Home Transition 2: The nightcap that Rook-senpai gave me is nice that it even covers my ears, but... It kinda weirds me out that it fits me perfectly.

Home Transition 3: My room itself is pretty small, but I'd say the reason why I can't do my stretches here is because of all of my roommates' stuff scattered everywhere.

Home Transition - Login: I'll make sure to do my daily studying and training routines as usual. Birthdays aren't an excuse to slack.

Home Transition - Groovy: I really like Riddle-senpai's way of giving encouragement... It kind of pumps me up even more. Makes me happier hearin' that than just being told to rest 'cause it's my birthday.

Home Tap 1: My roommates keep throwing their dirty clothes all over my personal space. Maybe I should just finally throw them all away.

Home Tap 2: The body composition monitor that that Ortho gave me is pretty useful. Just knowing how much muscle I have really helps me determine what training I should do.

Home Tap 3: I've tried styling gel before, but my hair got way too stiff... I've only used wax since then.

Home Tap 4: I can't tell if Lilia-senpai is trying to celebrate or surprise me... I couldn't help but square up when he let off a party popper from his perch in a tree.

Home Tap 5: What's the knitted pattern on my cardigan called? Actually, I don't really know. It's something I see in my hometown a lot, so I've never really thought about it.

Home Tap - Groovy: Didja forget I've got a real good nose for things? I can tell just by smell there's food and cake prepared. So sorry that it couldn't be a surprise.

Duo: [JACK]: Riddle-senpai, I'll make this my most productive year yet! [RIDDLE]: That's a good mindset, Jack.

Birthday Login Message: Oh, hey, it's you. What am I carrying? Just some sports drinks that Deuce gave me for my birthday. He gave me a whole case full so I'm just carrying it to my room. Man, he just had to give me something so big... Heh, now where am I gonna find the place to put this? By the way, what do you have there? ...Huh? A present for me? And it's more sports drinks!? ...N-Nah, I'm not saying I don't need them. I drink 'em every day, so it's good to have a ton. Right then, I'll take them off your hands. What, you don't think I can carry two cases by myself? It's no big deal. So, yeah, uh... Thanks.

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jack howl #riddle rosehearts #twst jack #twst riddle #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: rook #mention: ortho #mention: lilia #mention: deuce

457 notes · View notes

lee-laurent · 3 months ago

Text

True Love's Kiss - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn's in love... with his brother's ex-girlfriend

content: fluff, angst, kissing, making out, mentions of sex but no explicit smut, ex relationships, arguments

wc: 13.9k

notes: i'm so so so excited for this one!!!!! i was between this plot idea and quinn dating trevor's ex or trevor dating quinn's ex. so if you guys wanna see either of us just let me know.

It was a crisp, early fall day in Ann Arbor. The atmosphere at the Michigan football stadium was electric, thousands of people wearing maize and blue, feeling the "Big House" for the season opener. Quinn was standing next to Luke and some of his teammates, taking in the scene. Quinn felt a weird sense of nostalgia being there, reminding him of his own time at Umich, and he had no doubt that Luke was feeling the same way.

Quinn wasn't one for big crowds, unless he was playing hockey in front of it, but Luke had insisted he come to his alma mater with him. The energy around them was intense--people cheering and music blasting, but Quinn wasn't fully focused on the game. His mind wandered, as it often did, to the upcoming hockey season and his responsibilties as captain. After a few minutes of talking with Luke and his friends, Quinn felt the need to escape from the crowd for a bit.

"I'm gonna find a bathroom," he muttered to Luke, who was too busy joking with his old teammates to notice.

He slipped away, weaving through packs of students and families. Eventually he found a quieter section of the stadium, far from the chaos near his brother. He glanced around, squinting in search of a bathroom sign when something--or rather, someone--caught his eye.

There she was.

Standing by one of the snack vendors, talking to a group of people Quinn vaguely recognized from his own time at Umich, was Harriet--Harrie. Jack's ex. He had only really met her once or twice, usually just hearing about her from his younger brothers, but he could still recognize her.

At first, he didn't full register what he was seeing. He hadn't expected to run into her here. Sure she still went to Umich, but there were thousands of students there. He hadn't seen her in years, but she looked pretty much the same... yet different. Older, more confident in the way she carried herself. She was laughing with her friends, her curls bouncing as she threw her hair back.

Quinn shifted on his feet, trying to decide if he should go say 'hi.' He could walk past--pretend he never saw her and go on with his day--but his feet seemed to have a different idea. He was already walking toward her, pulled by something he couldn't explain.

The closer he got, the more he started to question his decision. What would he even say? Ask her how she's been? Surely he shouldn't bring up Jack. He hadn't been close to her when she dated his brother. But he knew that their breakup had been mutual. Still, the fact that she was Jack's ex made approaching her slightly more scary than normal.

"Quinn?"

Her voice was laced with surprise, snapping him from his worried thoughts. Harried had noticed him approaching, her friends now shifting their attention to him as well.

"Harrie," he replied, trying his best to sound casual.

Harrie's lips curved in a genuine smile as she stepped from her group, getting closer to Quinn. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice light, but Quinn could sense the surprise in her tone. "Is this your scene?"

He huffed, shoving his hands into the pocket of his Michigan jacket. "Not usually, no. But Luke's got a way of dragging me to things."

"Supportive big brother," she teased, her eyes studying his face. Quinn wasn't sure if it was the stadium lights or just his nerves, but he felt like he was under a microscope.

"What about you?" he asked, trying to push through the awkwardness he was feeling. "You still at Umich?"

Harrie nodded. "Yeah, for a bit longer. I'm graduating early, but I'm stuck here for a little more."

"Graduating early?" Quinn couldn't help but be impressed. It hadn't been that long since Jack and Harrie had broken up, and to hear that she was already almost done with her degree caught him off guard. "That was... fast."

She shrugged, her confidence apparent. "Yeah, I guess I'm just that good." There was a teasing look in her eyes, but Quinn could tell she wasn't bragging--just being herself.

For a moment, they just stood there. Quinn couldn't look away, he wasn't sure what it was. He wasn't supposed to think of Harrie as anything more than Jack's ex. But she seemed like she was more than that now. Like she'd written a new chapter in her life since going to Umich.

"Well, it was nice running into you," Harrie finally said. "I've gotta get back to my friends." She adjusted her tube top, flashing a quick smile before stepping back toward her friends.

"Yeah, of course. Good seeing you."

Quinn found himself staring as she walked away. He couldn't help but feel like he should've asked more questions, but what good would that have done? He was probably never going to see her again.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

He just took a breath and shook his head, finally actually heading into the bathroom. He couldn't shake Harrie from his mind. It was so weird seeing her there. What were the chances? What a small world.

Quinn worked his way back to Luke and his friends, weaving through the packed stands, flashing his badge to the security. His mind was still on Harrie. The brief encounter had thrown him off-guard, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

"Dude, where the hell were you?" Dylan laughed, barely glancing away from the field. "Took you long enough to find a bathroom."

Quinn shrugged, "Ran into someone." He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though it felt like a bigger deal than he cared to admit.

"Who?" Luke asked, turning to face his brother.

"Harrie," Quinn replied, trying to keep it nonchalant. "You know, Jack's ex."

The group's reaction was immediate. Mark let out a low whistle, and Dylan raised an eyebrow, both now suddenly much more interested in Quinn's bathroom break.

"Harrie?" Luke's eyebrows shot up. "What, you ran into her here?"

"Yeah, by the vendors. We talked for a bit."

"Man, Harrie's still around? Haven't seen her in a hot minute," Ethan asked. "Saw her at a few parties last year... total knockout."

Quinn shifted in his seat, trying to ignore how they were talking about Harrie like she was a social spectacle. Did most guys talk about Harrie like that?

"She's still finishing up school, though, right?" Dylan chimed in. "Isn't she graduating early or something?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, she's almost done. Doesn't party much anymore. She's all business now." He glanced at Quinn. "Did you hear about what happened last year?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Luke debated whether he should bring it up or not, but the grin pulling at the side his lips made it clear he couldn't resist. "When Jack came to visit me for that weekend, and we all went to that party. Harrie was there, and... well, one thing led to another, and they hooked up."

"Wait, what?" Quinn blinked, surprised. Jack and Harrie hooking up? His mind reeled for a second, feeling a strange mix of shock and something else--something he couldn’t quite name. "Seriously?"

"Seriously? Jack got back with her for the night?"

"Yeah, but it was a one-time thing," Luke shrugged. "At least, that's what Jack said. But I don't know, man... I don't think he's totally over her. Even if he won't admit it." He chuckled like it wasn't a big deal, but the words felt heavy to Quinn.

Ethan shook his head, nudging Quinn. "Your brother's a lucky bastard, huh? Hooking up with his ex like that? Must've been some party."

Jack and Harrie hooking up again? That was news to Quinn. Why hadn't Jack told him? He usually told him shit like that. He had just assumed Jack was over her, that their breakup was clean and mutual. Now... he wasn't so sure.

Was Jack still into Harrie? Luke had mentioned it so casually, like it wasn't filled with drama. Why was Quinn so caught up on this? He shook his head, turning his attention back to the game. He didn't need to focus on stupid shit like that, he had a season coming up.

It was rare in February for Quinn to have a day off, but he did. He finally had a chance to breathe. He felt slightly more at ease than normal, but his mind still raced with thoughts of his captaincy, team responsibilities, and all that pressure that came with it. He decided to make his way to his regular coffee spot--hoping it would help him decompress a bit.

The bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose. It was pretty quiet for a mid-morning, just a few tables with students studying. Quinn glanced around to find that his favourite corner table was still open.

Score.

"What can I get you?"

Quinn blinked, snapping his head up. And there she was.

Harrie.

For a second, he thought he was imagining things, but there was mistaking the girl behind the counter. Her usual brunette curls pulled back in a ponytail, the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, her green eyes locking with his. She looked exactly how she did in the fall at Michigan.

Harrie blinked, clearly as caught-off as he was. "Quinn?"

"Harrie?"

She smiled, her surprise fading away. "Well... this is unexpected." She let out a small, awkward laugh, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn cleared his throat, still processing that she was standing in front of him. "Just grabbing a coffee. What about you? You're... working here?" His voice definitely gave away his surprise, but he couldn't help it.

She nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, just for now. I graduated early, like I said. Moved to Vancouver right after. I'm still looking for an editing job, but in the meantime..." She gestured around the café. "Barista life it is."

"Vancouver? You moved here?"

Harrie chuckled, looking amused by his reaction. "Yeah. Decided it was time for a change after Michigan. I always liked Vancouver... and, you know, figured I'd try something new." There was a beat of silence before she added, "It's kind of weird that we ran into each other again, huh?"

Quinn nodded slowly. Weird didn't even begin to cover it. He hadn't seen her since the football game, and now here she was--living in Vancouver, the one place he never expected to see her. "Yeah, it's... definitely unexpected.

Harrie tilted her head slightly, the teasing confidence that he remembered from the game started to seep back into her voice. "What, you didn't think I'd end up in Vancouver?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think I'd run into you at a coffee shop." He paused, glancing up at the menu board to try and mask the awkward tension he felt. "I'll just get my usual... black coffee, medium. Please."

She punched the order into the register, the smile never leaving her face. When she handed him the receipt, their hands brushed briefly, and Quinn swore he felt a flicker of something. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make him pull his hand back just a little too quickly.

Harrie noticed, her smile faltering for a few seconds. "I'll get that started. Should only take a minute."

Quinn watched as she made his coffee. She seemed more relaxed than she did at the football game, but maybe that was just because of the lack of crowd at the coffee shop. Whatever it was, he couldn't help but shake that she felt like more than just Jack's ex. She was... Harrie. She was her own person, not tied down to the label of Jack's ex in Vancouver. Before he could think of it too much more, she slid his coffee across the counter.

"Here you go. One black coffee, medium."

"Thanks."

Harrie leaned slightly on the counter, studying him a moment before asking, "How's everything going with the season?"

"It's... good. Busy, but good." He wasn't used to talking about hockey with someone outside of his usual circle. Most people either asked for too many details or not at all. But Harrie seemed genuinely curious, without pushing.

"That's good. Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate."

Quinn shrugged, unsure of what to say next. "Yeah, you know... captain stuff." He had questions he wanted to ask her, but they felt too nosey. How was she settling into Vancouver, had she seen Jack since that party, were things really over between them?

But instead he just took his coffee and didn't add anymore to his reply.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around. It seems like we have a habit of running into each other," Harrie offered.

Quinn chuckled. "Yeah, maybe." Maybe he should keep the conversation going. What could he ask that wasn't too weird and creepy. "I--" The bell above the door jingled, and a couple of customers walked in, pulling Harrie's attention away from him.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?"

He didn't want to seem like a creep, standing there and watching her do her job. So, he made his way over to his table in the corner and busied himself with his phone, trying not to think about how much he wanted to keep talking to her. Why did her being here matter to him so much?

It had become somewhat of a habit on days that Quinn had downtime, he'd find himself back in the coffee shop. He wasn't really expecting to run into her, but maybe he was hoping.

And he finally had his lucky day.

The familiar bell jingled as he walked in. The café was busier this time, almost all of the tables full of people doing work or conversing. Quinn scanned the room as he walked up to the counter, eyes flickering to the cash register.

There she was.

Harrie was working the counter again, moving with her usual confidence and smile on her face. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a second, Quinn debated just walking out the door.

But before he could make that decision, she glanced up and their eyes locked.

"Hey! Back again, huh?" She teased, and Quinn felt his chest flutter with nerves.

"Yeah, I guess I'm becoming a regular," he replied. "Just the usual, please."

Harrie gave him a small nod as she rang him up, but just as Quinn was reaching for his card, she paused, sliding a pastry across the counter.

Quinn blinked, glancing at the pastry, confused. "I didn't order this."

"It's on the house. Just maybe don't tell your trainers." She winked, and Quinn found himself chuckling at her easy sense of humor.

"I'll try not to," he agreed, although he could already hear the hypothetical conversation about avoiding carbs in his head.

When she handed Quinn his coffee, he tried to think if he should continue the conversation again. He was about to step away when Harrie looked toward the clock and then back at him.

"I'm about to go on break," she said, much more casually than he expected. "If you don't mind the company, I'll join you for a bit."

Quinn felt something stir in his chest. Was it nerves? Anticipation? Whatever it was, he nodded quickly, trying to not seem too eager. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great."

He made his way to his usual corner table, settling into the chair, the pastry sitting in front of him as if it was daring him to eat it. It made him smile, Harrie was making him feel more relaxed than he had in weeks.

A few minutes later, she came over, sliding into the seat across from him, her own cup of coffee in her hand. "It's busy today," she glanced around the room. "Surprised you're not sick of this place already."

"It's become a good spot for some downtime. No rink, no meetings--just coffee."

Harrie nodded. "I get that. When I first moved here, I thought I'd be exploring the city every day, but honestly... this place has become like my comfort zone. Small, cozy... familiar."

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, and now that they were sitting there, it felt the perfect chance to really get to know her.

"So... why Vancouver? What made you decide to come here after Michigan."

She tilted her head, like she hadn't expected him to ask that, but like she appreciated it. "I've always loved Vancouver. My parents took me here when I was little and it kinda just like stuck with me. After I graduated, I just felt like I needed a change, ya know? Something different. Plus, I didn't really want to stay in Michigan. Too many memories."

He knew what she meant, even though she hadn't said it outright. Jack. There was no way that wasn't a part of why she left, but Quinn didn't press. He didn't want to make this about Jack.

"How's the job search going?"

Harrie sighed, "It's been slow. I'm looking for something in editing--publishing, mostly--but there aren't a lot of opportunities here." She glanced down at her cup, swirling the coffee around before looking up at him. "But I'm trying to stay optimistic. It'll happen eventually."

Quinn admired that about her. How she seemed so grounded, even when things weren't going according to plan. It made her even more intruiging.

"You're a lot more patient than I'd be," Quinn admitted, smiling. "I'm pretty sure I'd have given up and moved on by now."

"I don't know if it's patience or stubbornness at this point." She paused, studying him for a moment before adding, "What about you? How's the season treating you?"

"It's... a lot," he said honestly. "Being captain is great, but it's not exactly a walk in the park." He didn't want to seem like he was complaining, but Harrie didn't seem to be judging him regardless.

"I bet. That's a lot of responsibility. But from what I've heard, you're doing great."

"You've... heard about me?"

"I still follow hockey, you know. Plus, you're like kind of a big deal here."

"Not that big of a deal."

Things went quiet as they finished their drinks, the air between them more comfortable, more familiar. Quinn really felt like he was seeing Harrie in a different light. She wasn't just Jack's ex. She was funny, determined, and easy to talk to in a way that he didn't expect.

"It's been nice talking, but I should probably get back to work."

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, of course. Thanks for the company."

She gave me a warm smile as she made her way back to the counter. A smile that would be burned into Quinn's mind until he saw her again.

It was becoming routine. Quinn didn't have to hope he'd run into Harrie anymore--he knew when she'd be there.

They'd started meeting regularly at the coffee shop, sometimes on weekends, sometimes during the week when Quinn had downtime. It had only been a few weeks, but things felt natural. The initial awkwardness had faded away into casual conversation.

Quinn found himself scanning the room as soon as he walked in the door. Finding her sitting in their usual corner, already halfway through a cup of coffee and a book in hand.

"Hey!" Harrie smiled when she saw him, placing a bookmark on the last page she'd read. "I got your coffee. Figured you'd be here soon."

"You know me too well."

"It's easy when you're a creature of habit," Harrie winked, taking a sip of her own coffee.

They fell into their usual rhythm, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Harrie had a special talent for making conversation feel effortless, and Quinn found himself looking forward to their meetings more and more.

"So I think it went well," she said, pushing a curl behind her ear. "I mean, I'm still waiting to hear back, but the editor seemed really interested in my experience."

"That's awesome," Quinn said, genuinely happy for her. "Sounds like things are looking up."

"Yeah, I hope so. I've kinda been in limbo for a while now. It'd be nice to get some like real direction, ya know?"

"I get it. It's like that sometimes. You think you have a plan, but things don't always go the way you expect."

"Exactly," Harrie agreed. "It's just about staying patient, I guess. Even when it's like really fucking hard."

"You've got patience for days," Quinn teased, leaning back in his seat. "You'll get there."

They shared a smile, and Quinn felt a comfortable warmth settle between them. It wasn't forced, and it didn't feel like work. It just... was.

"Speaking of plans," he leaned forward slightly, "we've got a home game coming up this weekend. You should come."

Harrie raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Are you inviting me to one of your games?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I mean, no pressure, but it could be fun. If you're free, you should come watch."

"You make it sound so casual, like it's just a pick-up game at the local rink."

"Well, it's not exactly that. But yeah, come if you want. I'll leave tickets for you at will-call."

"You're on," she raised her mug in a mock toast. "I wouldn't miss it."

They clinked their cups together. It wasn't a big deal--at least not yet--but Quinn liked the idea of her being there. Of her watching him do what she loved.

The arena was still buzzing after the game, the energy of the win carrying through the halls as fans filed out. Quinn could hear the usual mix of shouts, laughter, and the occasional interview as he stepped out of the locker room, his bag flung over his shoulder.

He hadn't expected to feel nervous about Harrie being at the game. But his heart skipped a beat when he saw her standing at the end of the hall.

"There he is! The man of the hour!" she called out, a wide grin on her face as he walked over to her.

"Hey, you stayed."

"Of course I did," she pulled him into a hug. It was friendly, casual--but there was something about the way she squeezed his shoulder that made him feel lighter than he had in days. "You were amazing out there, Quinn. I'm seriously so proud of you."

He wasn't used to hearing that outside of the hockey world--his teammates, coaches, family, and even fans would offer praise, but hearing it from her? It felt different. Genuine.

"Thanks. I'm glad you came."

"Told you I wouldn't miss it. It was like super cool to see you in your element."

"Hey," Quinn said after a beat of silence, glancing toward the exit that the players took. "I was thinking... if you're not busy, we could grab some takeout and just hang out at my place? Nothing fancy, just chill."

"Takeout and chill?" she teased, making him roll his eyes. "Sounds like the perfect post-game celebration."

"Yeah, something like that. You in?"

"Duh," she gave me a nudge. "Let's go."

They ended up back at Quinn's place, bags of takeout in hand. It wasn't his usual post-game routine--usually it as grabbing food with a couple of the guys and then heading home to crash. But this? It just felt right.

Quinn tossed his keys on the counter and gestured to the living room. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll grab plates."

Harrie flopped down on the couch, kicking off her shoes as she surveyed the space. "Nice place, Hughesy. Minimalist but cozy."

"Minimalist? That's a fancy way of saying I don't have much shit."

"Hey, it works. I hate clutter anyway."

Quinn returned with plates and chopsticks, setting the takeout containers on the coffee table. The settled in, spreading out the food and digging in.

"So," Harrie started between bites of stir-fry, "you never told me how it feels being captain. I know we've talked about hockey in general, but like... how's it been? The pressure, the responsiblity, all of it?"

Most people didn't ask him about the emotional side of being captain--they were more interested in the wins, stats, or the highlights. But Harrie wasn't most people. She always asked about the things that actually mattered.

"That's a deep question to start with."

"You're stalling."

"It's a lot," Quinn admitted. "Good, but a lot. There's like always pressure on you, ya know? Not just as a player, but as a leader too. I have to make sure everyone is dialed in, not just myself. It's more than just playing hockey now."

Harried nodded. "That sounds like a huge responsibility. But from what I've seen, you're handling it really well."

"I'm trying. Some days are better than others." He glanced over at her, admiring how comfortable she looked, sitting there with takeout in her lap, genuinely interested in everything he had to say. "But I love it. Wouldn't change it for the world, even when it gets stressful."

"I can tell. You belong out there."

They fell into silence again, the sounds of the city buzzing outside as they ate. It again wasn't forced, just easy, like they'd done it a hundred times before. And as the night wore on, Quinn realized just how much he valued their friendship. Their connection.

"You ever miss Michigan?" she asked after a while.

"Sometimes. I mean, I miss being close to my family, but I love it here. Vancouver feels like home now."

Harried nodded, staring down at her empty container. "I get that. I miss certain things about Michigan, too. But Vancouver's starting to feel like home now... I think."

"Good. We'll make a Vancouverite out of you soon."

"Guess we'll see," she giggled.

The conversation continued to drift from one topic to another, neither of them wanting to cave and end the night. It was real and it was comfortable, and Quinn wanted nothing to change.

Quinn was scrolling aimlessly through Instagram when a text from Harrie popped up.

Guess who just landed a job at the publishing house?!

He blinked at the screen, a grin immediately spreading across his face as he sat up straighter. His heart lifted at the thought of her excitement.

No way! That's awesome! When do you start?

Two weeks! I'm still freaking tf out! We need to celebrate!!

Quinn felt so proud of her. After months of searching, she'd finally found something that fit her. He knew how much she'd been waiting for that moment.

Name the time and place. We can do dinner or a movie night if you're in the mood to keep it lowkey

Harrie's response came quickly and with clear excitement.

Move night!! How about my place? 7?

That evening Quinn found himself standing outside Harrie's apartment, takeout in hand. It wasn't the first time he'd been over. The coffee shop hangouts had been replaced by more relaxed meetups, and tonight was just like that.

He knocked lightly and within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Harrie's beaming face.

"Hey! You brought food? You're officially my favourite person."

"Figured we'd need something to go with the celebration."

They moved to the living room, setting up like they had many times before. Harrie was practically glowing, the excitement radiating off her in waves.

"I can't believe it. I thought the interview went well, but I didn't expect them to call so soon. It feels... surreal."

"You deserve it," Quinn said sincerely. "You've been working your ass off to get here. It was just a matter of time, Harrie."

"Thanks, Q. It means a lot."

They laughed and celebrated her new job and by the time they finally settled into picking a movie, any nerves that Harrie felt were gone.

"Okay, you pick," she tossed him the remote.

Quinn caught it with ease, pretending to think deeply about his choice. "Hm... I'm thinking something classic. You can't go wrong with 'The Princess Bride.'"

Harrie's eyes lit up. "Oh my God, yes! I haven't watched that in forever!"

This was nice. It was really nice.

Weeks had passed since their first movie night, and it had officially become part of their routines. Whenever Quinn wasn't travelling for games, they'd meet at one of their apartments--sometimes his, sometimes hers--and spend the evening watching movies, eating, and talking about anything that came to mind. They'd become friends in the truest sense of the word.

Whenever Quinn was exhausted on roadies, he'd think of their next movie night. Harrie had become such a constant in his life, a part of his routine that he hated giving up for road trips.

They were just friends. That's all it was. And he missed hanging out with someone who took his mind off hockey.

But as he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room, replaying every hang out from the last few weeks, Quinn couldn't deny that he felt... something. Something more.

He tried to shake it off, telling himself that it was just because they were close now and spent lots of their time together. But even as he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts lingered on Harrie.

It was just another movie night. At least that's what Quinn was telling himself.

They'd done it so many times--takeout, a random movie, laughs, and then spending the rest of the night in easy conversation. It became something they both looked forward to after a long week of work. But that night, things felt different. Quinn couldn't place it, they just did.

They were at his place, sitting on the couch, plates long forgotten on the coffee table. The lights were dimmed, the movie they'd chosen playing in the background, but neither of them were paying much attention. The conversation had turned more personal, as it often did, but things felt charged that night.

Harrie was sitting closer than usual.

Quinn noticed it the second he sat down, and now he could feel her leg brushing against his. It wasn't like that hadn't happened before, but it felt more pursposeful this time.

"So," Harrie said, her fingers playing with the cuff of her shirt. "What's been on your mind lately? You've seemed... distracted."

Quinn blinked. He hadn't realized he'd been that transparent. "I guess I've been thinking about a lot of... things. Hockey, mostly. You know how it is."

Harrie nodded, but she searched his face for something more. "Yeah, but it feels like it's more than just hockey."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conversation was getting deeper, pulling in a direction he hadn't expected. But there was no going back.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I think I've just been trying to figure out where my head's at lately."

She tilted her head. "And have you figured it out?"

His heart was racing now, and he wasn't sure why. He looked up at her, his gaze locking with hers, and everything else seemed to fade away. The movie, the half-finished drinks on the table, the noise of the city outside--it all blurred into the background.

"I think I'm starting to."

Harrie didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes made his chest tight. They had been close for weeks-- closer than friends, even if neither of them had said it out loud. It felt like everything was finally coming to a head.

She shifted slightly, her knee pressing against his leg, and Quinn felt his breath hitch. It was subtle, but he still noticed. How could he not?

Harrie's gaze flickered down to his lips, and for the first time, Quinn let himself ask-- what if?

He wasn't entirely sure who moved first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was her, or maybe it was just the inevitable pull they'd both been feeling for weeks. But before he knew it, he was leaning in, and so was she. The space between them disappeared, and just like that, her lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if they were both testing the waters. But within seconds, it got deeper. Quinn melted into it, it felt so right.

Her hand made it's way to his shoulder, her fingers gripping lightly as she leaned in even closer. Everything Quinn had been overthinking--the boundaries of their friendship, the lines he was afraid to cross--all disappeared.

"Quinn..." Harrie whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah?" his voice was breathy.

She smiled, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "I think I've wanted to do that for a while."

"Yeah? I think I have, too."

There was no rush to define what had just happened, no need for overthinking. It felt natural.

"So... now what?" Harrie giggled. "Do we just pretend it didn't happen, or...?"

"I don't think we can pretend that didn't happen." He paused for a second, looking at her seriously. "Do you want to?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Good. Because I don't either."

One thing was clear--this was more than just a friendship now. And there was no going back.

It had only been a couple of weeks since their first kiss, but things between Quinn and Harrie had shifted completely. What had once been a comfortable friend had transformed into something that neither of them wanted to slow down.

That kiss had opened the door to a new level of closeness, and the lines between friendship and romance had quickly blurred. They hadn't talked much about what they were specifically--labels didn't seem necessary.

They were at Quinn's again, sitting on the couch like they had countless times before. But instead sitting with space between them, Harrie was talked under his arm, her head resting on his chest. Quinn was absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder as Netflix booted up on the TV.

"So, we're going with 'The Breakfast Club,' huh?" Harrie teased, looking up at him with a smirk.

"You know it's a classic," Quinn chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I can't believe you've never seen it."

She rolled her eyes, snuggling closer to his side. "I know, I know. I've been told it's a crime. Guess you're here to fix that."

Quinn smiled. He liked that they'd been spending more time like that--cuddling, sharing more intimate moments. It wasn't just about that though. They were talking more, opening up in ways that hadn't been part of their friendship before.

They stayed cuddled for the rest of the movie, laughing at the cheesy parts, trading comments on the characters. But as the movie rolled on, Harrie's hand slipped onto Quinn's chest, and he couldn't help but notice how his heartbeat picked up whenever she touched him.

"You're kind of a softie, you know that?" she teased, trailing her fingers along the fabric of his shirt.

"Maybe. But you like it."

She bit her lip, "Yeah, I guess I do."

He leaned down slowly, his hand sliding up to cradle her cheek, and before either of them could overthink it, he kissed her. Soft at first, but quickly deepening, neither of them feeling the need to hold back like the first time.

Harrie shifted, turning slightly so she could face him more fully, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back. Quinn's other hand found her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

"Okay, you've convinced me," she heaved.

"About what?"

"That you're a softie," her eyes twinkled as she leaned in and kissed him again, this time softer, slower.

Kissing had become second nature, and every time Quinn pulled her closer, it felt like they were falling into something deeper.

It was late afternoon and they were lounging on the couch, as usual. The TV was on in the background, but Quinn had something else on his mind. Something he'd been thinking about for days, debating on whether or not to bring it up.

The playoffs were coming, and things between them had been going really well. Better than he could've imagined. Harrie was part of his life every day, and even though they still hadn't labelled what they were, Quinn felt it heading in that direction.

That's why he wanted her there--for the biggest game of his career so far. He wanted her to see him on the ice, to experience the excitement of playoffs with him.

He cleared his throat, looking down at her. "Hey, so I've been thinking... about the playoff games coming up."

Harrie looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? What about them?"

"I want you to come."

"You... want me to come to a playoff game?"

"Yeah," he sat up a little straighter. "I want you there. It's a big deal, and I just... want you to be a part of it."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, processing his words. "Are you sure? I mean, it's the playoffs, Quinn. That's, like, huge. Don't you have enough pressure without worrying about having me there?"

"It wouldn't be like that," Quinn assured. "Having you there would make it better. It wouldn't add pressure. I promise, Harrie."

She smiled, but there was doubt in her eyes. "I don't know... wouldn't it be weird? Like, I'm not officially your girlfriend or anything, so..."

Quinn cut her off, grabbing her hand. "Who cares about labels? You mean so much to me, Harriet. And the guys' girlfriends and wives... they'll love you. I already know it."

"I don't know, Quinn. I mean, it's not that I don't want to go, but..."

"There's something else," he studied her expression carefully. "What's really holding you back?"

Harrie sighed, how was she supposed to word this. She hadn't even voiced it aloud to herself, so she sure as hell wasn't ready to admit it to Quinn. She'd have to come up with an excuse. She couldn't tell him that she was afraid of being recognized by the other girls as Jack's ex. She'd look like a fool. "I guess I'm just worried about the other girlfriends. I don't want to... get in their way. It's stupid, I know. But I know myself and I'd rather be there and be... comfortable than a nervous wreck."

"I get it, Harrie. That's totally fine. If you'd rather sit elsewhere, you can sit elsewhere. I just want you to be there. Period."

"Thanks, Q."

"Of course. And besides..." He leaned forward, pulling something out from the side of the couch that he'd been hiding until the perfect moment.

He held up a Canucks jacket, one that she'd seen the other WAGs posting about. He'd gotten her one made? "I got this for you."

She stared at the jacket is disbelief, "Quinn... what? No! I can't wear that. I'm not even--"

"Yes, you can," he interrupted, his smile wide. "It's not a big deal. Just think of it as... supporting me. Sit wherever you want. No pressure to hang with the other WAGs. And you'll still have my name on your back." He flipped up the collar, showing his signature printed on the underside.

Harrie let out a nervous laugh, eyeing the jacket like it was some sort of magical item. "You really want me to wear this? And I don't have to sit with them?"

"Not if you don't want to. But I'm telling you, they'll love you. And I'd really, really love to have you there. Please? Just say yes."

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll come. But I'm holding you to that promise--I don't have to sit with the other girlfriends."

"Deal."

"And the jacket..." Harrie said, her voice trailing off as she reached for it. "It's cute, but I still feel weird wearing it."

"You'll look great," he gently pressed a kiss to her cheek. "And you'll be supporting me, which is what matters."

Harrie laughed, shaking her head as she pulled the jacket into her lap. "Okay, you win. But I'm still nervous."

Quinn smiled, resting his forehead against hers. "It's just me and you, Harrie. You've got nothing to be nervous about."

Harrie waited for Quinn in the players' lounge, her excitement bubbling over. She hadn't sat with the WAGs, instead glued to the game, cheering on from her own seat.

When Quinn finally emerged from the locker room, his hair damp from the shower, a tired grin on his face. She practically bounced over to him, throwing her arms around him.

"You killed it out there!"

"Thanks," he murmured against her hair. "I was hoping you'd think so."

She leaned back, looking up at him. "I more than think so. I know so."

"You want to head back to mine?" Quinn asked softly, his voice low in her ear.

Harrie nodded, her pulse quickening. She knew what he was asking--this wasn't just a casual invite. This was more.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Harrie followed him into the living room, watching as he set down his keys on the table. They were both buzzing with post-game adrenaline, their cheeks flushed.

"Want a drink?"

"I'm good," she said softly, stepping closer to him, the tension building.

Quinn closed the space between them, his hands resting on her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. No holding back this time. Her hands slid up his shoulders, pulling him closer. And before they knew it, they were stumbling towards his bedroom, their laughter trailing behind them.

Hours later, they lay tangled together, moonlight filtering through the blinds. Quinn's arm was draped over her waist, his fingers tracing patterns on his skin as they lay there, both still a little breathless.

"You okay?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

Harrie nodded, "More than okay."

"Good."

They didn't talk after that. The silence between them comfortable as they drifted off to sleep. Harrie felt the most at ease she had in Vancouver. Everything felt right.

Harrie was always an early bird. It didn't matter how late she stayed up or how tired she was, her body just knew when it was time to get up. So, when the first light of morning crept through the blinds, she was stirring, blinking awake as she slid out of bed.

Quinn was still fast asleep, his arm draped lazily over where she'd been lying moments before. She smiled softly as she watched him for a second, his face completely at peace. Last night had been perfect, and waking up next to him was even better.

But her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since before the game. She pulled on her thong and Quinn's dress shirt from the night before, the fabric brushing against her bare legs, and she padded her way to the kitchen.

Harrie set to work, rummaging through the fridge and cupboards to see what she could make for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast--nothing fancy, but it would do the trick. She hummed softly to herself as she cracked the eggs into a pan, feeling surprisingly at home.

She didn't hear Quinn wake up, didn't notice him until she felt the warmth of his hands slide around her waist, pulling her back gently against him. His breath was warm against her neck, and he pressed soft kisses to her neck, making her laugh as she turned to face him.

"Morning," Harrie said softly, smiling as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Mmm," Quinn murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "Now this is a view I could get used to. Waking up to you cooking in my shirt. And... the breakfast doesn't hurt either."

She laughed, flipping the bacon in the pan. "I didn't know you were a vampire, Hughes. You left quite the marks on me last night."

Quinn grinned, his hands tightening around her waist as he glanced at her neck, seeing the bright purple and red marks from the night before. "Guess I got carried away," he teased, pressing a kiss to a spot he'd marked.

"Yeah, just a little," she teased, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

They stood like that, wrapped in each other, the sizzling of the grease in the pan the only noise in the apartment. Everything felt easy.

"I could really get used to this," Quinn said softly, still peppering kiss and adding more marks to Harrie's neck.

"Yeah? You like waking up to breakfast?"

He shook his head, "No, I mean... waking up with you. Having you here. I want this to be a regular thing."

She turned in his arms to face him, her hands on his chest. "What're you saying?"

Quinn's hands slid up to her cheeks, cupping them. "I'm saying I want you to be my girlfriend, Harrie. Officially. I don't want to dance around it anymore."

She hadn't expected him to say it right then, but the truth was, she'd been feeling the same way. She wanted this, wanted him.

"Are you sure?"

"More than sure. I'm crazy about you, Harriet. I don't want anyone else."

Harrie smiled, leaning up to kiss him. That was her answer--a kiss filled with feelings that she couldn't put into words. They both smiled into it, their teeth clashing.

"Okay, Quintin. I'll be your girlfriend."

Quinn's smile was immediate, peppering her entire face in kisses as he picked her up and spun them in a circle. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"I think I do," she teased, leaning her forehead against his.

Breakfast was momentarily forgotten as they let the weight of the moment settle in. They were officially together. Finally.

It had been a fun night--one of those nights where things just went perfectly. They had gone out with some of Quinn's teammates, hit a few bars, and ended up back at Harrie's apartment, stumbling through the front door, laughing as they tried to stay upright.

Quinn wasn't used to being this drunk, especially during the season, but they had the next couple days off, and it had just... happened. Harrie had let loose too, and now they were both tipsy, giddy, and without filters.

They collapsed onto her bed, still laughing. Quinn's arm slung over her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. They'd been officially together for a few weeks and things were so easy. He liked that. He liked her.

"That was fun," Harrie giggled, fidgetting with the bottom of Quinn's shirt. "Your friends are hilarious."

"I told you they were cool," he replied. He was definitely more buzzed than usual, but he felt good. Especially with Harrie by his side.

"You know, it's crazy how different everything feels now," Harrie said, her words slower, more thoughtful. "Like, moving here, starting over, meeting you..."

Quinn looked down at her, sensing a deeper meaning behind her words. "What do you mean?"

"I guess I've just been thinking about... the past. About how much things have changed."

Quinn's stomach tensed slightly and it wasn't from the alcohol. He tried not to let it show, but he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Jack.

"Like what?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer.

"Like Jack. I haven't really talked about him have I?"

"No, not really."

Harrie let out a small laugh, but there was sadness behind it. "We were together for so long, you know? It's weird to think about how different things are now. He was my first real relationship. From high school to his rookie season... that's a lot of history."

Quinn nodded slowly. He knew they had a past--everyone did--but it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on. "Yeah, I remember."

"When we broke up," she continued, her voice quieter. "It wasn't even a bad breakup. It as mutual. The distance was just... too much. We were growing apart, and I think we both knew it deep down." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "But it's still weird, ya know? I don't think you ever really forget someone like that."

Quinn's mind was racing as he tried to stay calm. He didn't know how to respond. He had always pushed Jack out of his mind when it came to Harrie. She wasn't Jack's ex to him. She was just Harrie. But now, hearing her talk about Jack, it made things feel complicated.

"You ever talk to him now?"

Harrie shook her head. "No. Not really. We haven't talked much since the breakup."

There was a pause, and Quinn felt like he should be relieved--but something still gnawed at him.

"I saw him last year, though," Harrie added softly, her words slurring more as the alcohol kicked in. "When he came to visit Luke at Michigan. We ran into each other at a party."

His mind immediately jumping to the story Luke had mentioned about Harrie and Jack hooking up again that weekend. Was she going to tell him?

But she didn't.

"We talked for a while, caught up," she continued. "It wasn't weird or anything. I think we both realized we'd moved on, ya know? I was focused on graduating, and he was doing his thing in Jersey. We were just... different people by then."

He tried to make sense of what she was saying. She hadn't mentioned the hookup. Why hadn't she mentioned it? Did she not think it mattered? Or... did she still have feelings for Jack that she wasn't admitting to herself?

Harrie's eyes fluttered closed, the alcohol making her sleepy. "I'm glad I'm not stuck in the past," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I'm happy with you, Quinn. Really happy."

Did she still think about Jack?

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his mind in overdrive, though he tried to stay grounded. "I'm happy with you too, Harrie."

She'd fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady. But Quinn couldn't sleep.

He just lay there staring at the ceiling. He knew he shouldn't have read into it too much--Harrie had been drunk, she'd opened up about her past, and she hadn't said anything that should make him worry.

But the missing piece of the story--the part about her hooking up with Jack last year--it sat in the back of his mind. Why hadn't she mentioned it? Had she forgotten it? Or was it something more?

Was he just overthinking this? Was Jack still in her head, even after all this time? And if he was, where did that leave Quinn?

She was happy with him. She'd said so.

But Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that something had been left unsaid, and as the hours ticked by, he found himself still wide awake, overthinking every word, every single detail of what she had told him.

Quinn's head was pounding. They'd gone too hard, but he didn't regret it--just hadn't anticipated having to be alone with his thoughts. For once, Harrie wasn't awake before him. Still curled up into his side, her breathing steady. The conversation they'd had about Jack had stuck with him, replaying in his mind all night.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he carefully sat up as to not disturb Harrie. But as if sensing him being awake, Harrie stirred, blinking groggily as she adjusted to the light. "Ugh, why is it so bright?"

"That's what happens after a night like we had. Too much fun, not enough water."

Harrie winced, "Yeah, I definitely didn't pace myself. But... there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Even if my head feels like it's about to explode."

"Sure, what's up?"

Harrie took a deep breath, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "I just... I think it was stupid of me to bring up Jack last night. I mean, we were hammered, and that conversation just kinda came out of nowhere."

Quinn stayed quiet, letting her speak. She was bringing it up first... that was a good sign.

"I don't want you to think I'm still hung up on him. Beause I'm not. I swear. I shouldn't have mentioned him, but I guess drunk-me was like nostalgic or some shit. It's just that... there's nothing to worry about, Quinn. You and Jack? Two completely different people.

"You don't have to explain it, Harrie. I get it."

But she just shook her head, as if she wasn't convinced he really did understand. "No, I do. I need to explain. Because I don't want you to think I like compare you to him or anything like that. I can't even compare you two. You're... not comparable? Jack is my past, but you're my present, Quinn."

He felt relieved, but there was still a small nagging thought--a reminder that she hadn't mentioned the part about hooking up with him. A small piece of the puzzle still missing, but he shoved it aside, not allowing himself to dwell on it.

"That means a lot to hear, Harriet. I won't lie... hearing about Jack last night caught me off guard. But I get it. It's your past and I'm not going to hold that against you."

"Exactly, that's all it is. The past. I want to be with you, Quinn. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

He believed her.

"I want to be with you too. And I trust you, Harrie. I do."

Harrie's expression softened and she leaned in to give him a quick peck. "Good. Because you're the only person I'm thinking about these days."

Quinn kissed her again, pulling her closer, and everything felt right.

Harrie and Quinn were in the kitchen, moving in tandem as they prepared dinner. It had become another part of their routine--cooking together. They were a team and it had grown to be one of Quinn's favourite parts of their relatiobship.

Harrie was standing at the stove, stirring a pan of pasta sauce; while Quinn stood beside her, chopping vegetables. It was simple, but they were still doing it together.

"You're getting good at this," Harrie teased as Quinn finished chopping a bell pepper. "I remember when you didn't even know how to properly dice an onion."

Quinn grinned, "Well, I had a good teacher."

"It's about time you gave me some credit."

They continued to cook side by side, dancing to the music playing from Quinn's phone. But as they neared the end of dinner prep, the inevitable topic of the summer came up.

"So, what's the plan for the summer?" Harrie asked, pouring the sauce over the pasta as Quinn started setting the table. "You and Jack have anything big planned."

Quinn paused. Summer. He hadn't wanted to think about it too much, but now that it was only a couple weeks away, he couldn't avoid it. The lake house, being with Jack...

"Yeah, we'll probably spend a lot of time at the lake house. You know, with the guys--Luke, Trevor, Cole."

Harrie nodded, "That sounds fun. I'm sure you'll have a blast."

"What about you? What's your plan?"

Harrie shrugged, serving them both a plate of pasta before sitting across from him. "I'll probably stick around Vancouver for the most part. Work's getting busy, and I've got some projects lined up. But we'll see each other before the end of summer, right? I could always come visit."

"Yeah, I'd love that."

He hadn't brought it up yet, his worry about being around Jack for that long, about the guilt of keeping his relationship with Harrie a secret.

He couldn't hold it in any longer. "Are you... worried? About me being with Jack all summer?"

Harrie blinked, surprised, then shook her head. "Worried? No, not really. Should I be?"

Quinn shifted in his chair, "I just... I don't know. It's weird, right? Keeping this from him. It feels like... like I'm hiding something."

Harrie smiled, reaching across the table to take his hand. "Quinn, you don't have to worry. Jack's not going to find out. And even if he did... we're happy. That's all that matters."

"I know, I just... I don't like keeping this from him. I feel like I'm lying."

"You're not lying. You're just waiting for the right time to tell him. And like I've said before, it's not some huge betrayal. Jack's moved on. You and I are... us. Separate from all of that."

"You're way too calm about this," he teased.

Harrie rolled her eyes. "Because it's not a big deal! Quinn, you're overthinking this. Jack's not like going to magically figure it out."

"You don't know him like I do."

"True," she admitted, standing up, and leaning across the table to kiss him softly. "But I do know that everything is fine. We're fine. And you're going to have a great summer without stressing about this."

"Come here," Quinn murmured, pulling her onto his lap. "I don't know how you do it," he kissed the side of her neck. "You're way too good at calming me down."

"It's a talent," she teased, kissing him again. "Now stop worrying. You're going to spend the summer with your brothers and friends. Have fun, relax, and maybe let me visit."

"Deal."

It had been days since Quinn had arrived at the lake house, and he was surprised by how quickly his worries had disappeared. The moment he stepped on the dock and the sun hit his skin, it felt like all his tension melted away. Being with his brothers, Cole, Trevor, and their other friends had a way of making shit feel normal again.

There had been boat trips, barbecues, and long nights sitting around the fire laughing about stupid shit. Quinn had been so worried about keeping the secret from Jack, but he felt at east when he was actually there. Jack was his usual self and Quinn believed things wouldn't be as bad as he thought. Maybe they could get through the whole summer without any drama.

The boys were all sat around the table, playing cards. The atmosphere are light, everyone was teasing each other, throwing out sarcastic comments about bad hands and questionable moves.

"Dude, there's no way in hell you're beating that," Trevor said with a grin, throwing his cards down as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "I'm calling it. Game over."

"Please," Jack shot back, laying out his hand. "That's rookie stuff. I've got this."

Quinn chuckled leaning over to check Jack's hand. "Bullshit. He's got nothing."

The whole group laughed. This was exactly that Quinn had needed--a break. And for the first time in a while, he wasn't worried about what he was keeping from Jack.

That was, until his phone buzzed from the centre of the table. The guys had all decided no phones while they played, so they'd all been placed on the table.

He didn't think much of it, just another text. But then, Trevor, who was sitting closest to Quinn's phone, glanced at the screen that lit up again.

"Hey, Quinn, you've got a text from 'H <3.' Who's the luck lady?"

Quinn froze, his stomach dropping to his feet. He had forgotten when he'd left his phone on the table that Harrie's contact had a heart next to it. He tried his best to act nonchalant, but he definitely wasn't feeling it.

Before he could grab his phone, Jack snatched it from the pile on the table.

"Let's see what 'H <3' has to say," Jack teased, laughing as he unlocked his brother's phone. "Bet she's a total smokeshow."

Quinn's heart caught in his throat as he watched Jack read the message. His playful smile slowly falling, going from amused to confused to... Quinn wasn't really sure what.

"Quinn," Jack said slowly, his voice was controlled but there was a certain sharpness to it. "Who's 'H?' And why is she texting you that she can't wait to see you again and misses you already? And that she wishes she was back home in Michigan? You're dating a girl from Michigan?"

The room went silent. Everyone's eyes were on Quinn now, waiting for an answer. He swallowed hard, he felt like he couldn't keep lying. He couldn't dodge, he couldn't deflect. It felt too wrong. There was nothing he could do to make the guys drop this. He knew them better than that.

"It's... Harrie."

Jack blinked, "Harrie? Like... my ex-girlfriend, Harrie? Harriet?"

Quinn nodded slowly, unable to look Jack in the eye. "Yeah. That Harrie."

The guys shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances, but nobody said a word. Jack was just staring, trying to process what he'd just been told.

"How long?" his voice was tight.

"A few months. But it's not what you think, Jack. It just... happened. I didn't plan it. Neither of us did."

Jack's jaw tightened, and for a moment Quinn thought he might get up and storm out of the room. But he didn't. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, deep breath.

"You're telling me you've been with my ex for months? And you didn't think to mention it?" His tone was dangerously calm.

Quinn shook his head. "I wanted to, I swear. I just... didn't know how. I didn't want to hurt you."

Jack laughed, but there was no humour to it. "Well, mission accomplished, bro. You sure as hell kept it well hidden from me."

Trevor cleared his throat, "Maybe we should take a break from the game..."

"No. It's fine. I'm fine," Jack looked back at Quinn. "But I need to know one thing, Quinn--do you actually care about her? Or is this just some hookup?"

He cared about her more than anything, but saying that to Jack, in that moment, felt like betrayal. "I care about her, Jack. A lot."

"Then I guess you've made your choice."

Without another word, Jack stood up, walking out of the room and leaving Quinn sitting there, the guilt crushing him while the other guys just sat there in stunned silence.

After the initial reveal, things seemed surprisingly normal. Jack had acted pissed for a moment, but the next morning he brushed it all off, saying everything was fine. He didn't bring up Harrie again, didn't make any snide comments about Jack's relationship. If anything, he just acted like he didn't care.

Quinn wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe Jack was okay with it, that things were back to normal. But something in the back of his mind told him that he wasn't really over it at all.

They had been at the lake for a week, and like many other nights, they were drinking. The stars overhead, the lake shimmering under the moonlight, they all sat around the fire getting drunk.

Trevor and Cole were in the middle of some ridiculous debate about the best post-game meal, Luke was cracking up, and Jack... well Jack had been downing beers faster than anyone else.

"Alright, alright, let's settle this," Trevor slurred, holding up his beer. "Which is worse? Post-game hunger or post-game soreness?"

Cole laughed, almost spilling his drink. "Dude, hunger, for sure. You can't do shit when you're starving."

"Nah, soreness," Luke chimed in. "Can't even more when you're that sore."

The conversation continued, but Quinn noticed the shift in Jack. Usually he was jumping into conversations like that, giving his own stupid answer. But instead, he was just staring at the fire. Watching it flicker. And Quinn could tell that the alcohol had really hit him. Hard.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, cutting off the laughter around him. "You know what's worse? Being lied to."

The group went quiet, the obvious change in tone catching them all off guard. Trevor glanced at Jack, confused. "What are you talking about, dude?"

Jack laughed, sharp and bitter. "I'm talking about finding out your brother's been fucking your ex behind your back for months and didn't even bother to tell you."

It was clear that Jack had been holding onto it the entire time.

"Jack, come on," Quinn tried to defuse the situation. "We talked about this. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... happened."

Jack snorted, locking eyes with his older brother. "Yeah? Just happened, huh? Like how it just happened that you didn't tell me for months? Like how it just happened that you thought you could keep this from me forever?"

"I didn't want to hurt you, Jack," Quinn repeated, trying to stay calm. "I just didn't know how to bring it up? I'm sorry, okay?"

Jack leaned forward, a dangerous smile spread across his face. "Oh, you're sorry? That's nice, Quinn. Really. But let me ask you this--did she ever tell you about the last time we saw each other?"

Quinn knew exactly where this was going. Although he pretended he didn't. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Jack said, his tone mocking, his words slurring together. "Of course she didn't. Well, let me fill you in, bro. Last time we saw each other? We fucked. And let me tell you," he laughed. "She fucking loved it."

The words hit Quinn like a punch to the face, but Jack wasn't done.

"You think you're the only one she cares about, huh?" His voice was growing louder, angrier. "You really think she's over me? Please. She'll never get over me. You're gonna have to accept the fact that every time she's with, every time she's in your bed, she's thinking of me."

Luke looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back. Just staring wide-eyed like Trevor and Cole.

Quinn's hands gripped the arms of his chair. He knew about the hookup--or at least, he knew it supposedly happened. But hearing Jack say it out loud, hearing the venom in his voice, made it feel a thousand times worse.

"Jack, you're drunk," Quinn shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying! I'm saying that no matter how much you think you care about her, she's never gonna get over me. And if you think she's not comparing you to me every time you're with her, you're a fucking idiot."

For a moment, Quinn thought about getting up, grabbing Jack by the collar and forcing him to stop talking. But instead he sat there, staring at his brother, feeling the weight of every word sink deeper into his skin.

"Jack, that's enough," Luke finally spoke up. "You're drunk, let's go to bed."

Jack swayed slightly on his feet. "Whatever. You all have fun playing hosue with Quinn and his new 'girlriend.' Just don't be surprised when she comes running back to me."

Quinn practically stumbled up the stairs, rushing to his room. Each one of Jack's words hit him like a sledgehammer.

"She'll never get over me."

He sank onto the edge of his bed, closing his door. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, his head spinning. He needed to talk to her. He needed answers.

His fingers moved on autopiloet, dialing Harrie's number before he could stop himself. The phone only rang twice before she picked up.

"Hey, you!" Her voice was light and teasing. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight. How's lake life treating you?"

"Harrie..."

"What's up? Did you miss me already? Because I'm warning you, it's gonna be hard to beat this pasta I made for dinner. You'll be jealous."

But Quinn wasn't laughing.

"Jack knows," his voice low, words coming out jumbled. "About us. He found out. The other night."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and he could hear Harrie shift. "Oh... okay. What happened? Did he freak out?"

"No," Quinn muttered, feeling the tension in his shoulders tighten. "Not at first. He acted like it was no big deal. But then we got drunk tonight, and he just... he lost it, Harrie."

"Quinn..." her tone was calming. "What exactly did he say?"

"He told me you two hooked up. Last time he saw you. He said you 'fucking loved it.'" The bitterness in his tone was palpable, and the words felt like poison on his tongue. "He said you'd never get over him, Harrie. That I'd have to accept that every time you're with me, you're imagining him."

Silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost disbelieving. "He said that to you?"

He nodded even thought she couldn't see him. "Yeah. He said that. And now I just..." he trailed off, his voice breaking slightly. "I thought you were over him. You told me you were over him."

"I am over him," Harrie said firmly. She sounded more frustrated, more concerned. "Quinn, that hookup that he's talking about? Happened almost two years ago. It'll be two years in August. Long before I knew you the way I do now. Meant nothing. It was closure. Jack's just... being an ass. He's drunk and trying to get under your skin."

"But why didn't you tell me about it, Harrie? You never mentioned it. And now, after hearing Jack say that, I--" He paused, swallowing harshly. "I don't know what to think. I don't know what's real anymore."

There was a sigh from Harrie, the kind she let out when she was trying to remain calm, trying to find the right words. "Quinn, I didn't tell you because it didn't matter. I didn't want to bring it up because I'm not that person anymore. And I don't think Jack is either. I didn't want you to think I still had feelings for him. Because I don't. I didn't then, and I don't now."

Quinn ran a hand down his face. "But Jack... he made it sound like you're not over him. Like you'll never be over him. How am I supposed to just ignore that?"

"You know that's not true, right? Quinn, I am over him. I'm with you because you're the one that I want. Jack is a part of my past, but you... you're my now, Quinn."

She hestiated when he didn't respond, but decided to keep talking. "Quinn, I love you. I didn't know when or how to tell you, but I do. I love you. And I don't want you to doubt that because of something Jack said just to hurt you."

Quinn froze. She loved him? She'd never said that before. He wanted to let those words wash away everything Jack had said.

But he couldn't.

"Harrie..." he started, his voice strained. "I--"

He couldn't say it back. He couldn't find the words. "I need some time to think."

"Okay... I understand. We can talk more later, Quinn. Just... please know that I'm here. I love you."

"I'll talk to you later," he avoided the words she needed to hear. Now all he could do was sit with his doubts, torn between his love for Harrie and the guilt he felt towards his brother.

Harrie hadn't slept. She felt guilty for not telling Quinn about her hookup with Jack. And she couldn't get over the hurt she felt when Quinn hadn't said that he loved her back. But more than that she was angry. Angry at herself, at the situation, but mostly angry at Jack.

Jack needed to hear the truth, not just from Quinn... from her. If he thought he could stir up trouble just because of a hook-up nearly two years ago, he was sorely mistaken.

Without hesitation, she called Jack. For the first time in years.

"Harrie?" Jack was groggy with sleep and surprise. "What's up?"

Harrie didn't waste time on plesantries. "We need to talk. Now."

"Okay... what's this about?"

Harrie clenched her jaw, feeling the anger bubble inside her. "It's about you acting like a complete asshole to your brother last night. Quinn told me what you said, Jack."

Jack sighed, clearly trying to brush it off. "Look, I was drunk, alright? I didn't mean half the shit I said."

"But you did say it," Harrie snapped. "You're using that fucking hookup between us like it still means something. It doesn't, Jack. It hasn't for a long time."

Jack was quiet for a second, his tone was more defensive after. "It meant something to me, Harrie. We were together for years. You don't just forget that."

"I'm not saying you have to forget it, Jack. I'm saying you need to stop letting it affect you like this. I didn't want Quinn to find out that way. Hell, I didn't want him to find out at all because it didn't matter. That night was about closure for both of us. You know that."

"You don't get it. It's not just about that fucking night. It's about you and Quinn. It's weird, Harrie. You're my ex. He's my brother."

"Of course, it's weird!" Harrie shot back. "I get that, Jack. But you need to grow up. I didn't fall for Quinn to spite you! It just happened. We're happy, and I'm not going to apologize for that."

"Happy?" Jack scoffed. "He didn't look too happy last night when I told him what happened. You can't just erase the past, Harriet. You're always gonna be my ex, and he's always gonna know that."

Harrie wasn't backing down. "Yes, I'm your ex, Jack. But I'm Quinn's girlfriend now. I love him. And if you can't accept that--if you can't get over this--then it's going to tear your family apart. Is that what you want? For me to come between you and your brother?"

Silence.

"Because it that's really what it's going to do, I'll end things with Quinn. I don't want to hurt him, Jack. I am not about to be the reason you guys can't be civil. I'll walk away before it gets any worse. I care about him too much to tear you two apart."

"You'd end things with him? Just like that?"

"If I had to," she admitted, though her heart ached at the thought. "But I don't want to. I love him. I'm not going to apologize for that, and I'm not going to pretend like you're some ghost hanging over our relationship. You need to move on. I have."

Jack's voice softened. "I don't want you to end things with Quinn, Harriet. I don't. I guess... I just, I didn't realize how much it would mess with my head, picturing you with him."

"It's not about us anymore, Jack. You and I? We're in the past. Not coming back."

"Yeah, you're right. I just... I was pissed. I don't want you to tear my family apart either."

"Good. Then let this go. You have to, for Quinn's sake. He deserves better than this."

"I'll try, Harrie. I will. I didn't mean to blow up on him like that. I was... being really fucking stupid. I'll talk to him, okay?"

Harrie sighed in relief. "Good. Thank you, Jack."

Jack chuckled softly despite the awkwardness. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"

"You owe Quinn one," she corrected. "Just... be his brother. That's all he needs."

"Yeah, I'll work on that."

Quinn was sitting on the dock. He'd been there for a while, just trying to process all the thoughts going through his head. Things were messy, and though he hadn't slept well, he hoped the new day would bring some clarity.

He knew Jack. He knew his brother wasn't really angry about Harrie... at least not deep down. Jack was just being Jack. Too prideful to admit when something hurt him.

He glanced back when he heard footsteps. Jack was walking toward him, hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt, looking more sober and less angry than the night before.

"Hey."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I talked to Harrie this morning. She kinda gave me a reality check."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jack said, kicking at the end of the dock with his shoe. "She told me I need to grow up. And... she's right. I was an asshole last night. I shouldn't have said what I said." He paused, glancing at Quinn. "I'm sorry, man. I was pissed and drunk, but that doesn't make it okay. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."

Quinn took a deep breath. He knew this apology was coming, but hearing it felt nice.

"I get it, Jack. It's weird. You're my brother, and she's your ex. I didn't want it to happen like this, but... I care about her. I really do."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I know. I get it. I just... I didn't expect it, ya know? You and her. It threw me off." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. "But it's not like I'm still hung up on her or anything. I guess I just didn't handle the news well."

"You? Not handling something well? Shocker."

"Shut up," Jack laughed.

"I don't want this to come between us," Quinn said. "We're brothers. I don't care how complicated this is, I'm not losing you over it."

Jack shook his head. "You won't, man. I'm not that petty. And... I'm sorry again. I don't want you to feel like I'm some weird shadow hanging over your relationship. You deserve to be happy, and if Harriet makes you happy, then... I'm cool with it."

"Thanks, Jack. Means a lot."

Jack grinned, holding out his arms. "Come on, bring it in. Let's get this awkward shit outta the way."

Quinn laughed, getting up to pull Jack into a quick bro-hug. When they pulled back Jack gave Quinn a playful shove. "You know, you're lucky I didn't kick your ass last night. You had it coming."

Quinn snorted. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Trevor, Jack, Cole, Luke, and Quinn were sprawled out on the couches, watching some dumb movie, half paying attention. The atmposphere was easy again, like then tension of the previous night had never happened.

"So," Trevor smirked. "Now that we're all sobber, I gotta ask--Qball, how the hell did you pull Harrie?"

Quinn blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Dude, she's like the hottest girl ever. You're a lucky man, Quinn. Seriously. I thought she was wayyyyyy out of your league."

The group erupted into laughter.

"Thanks, man. Real confidence boost," Quinn muttered, shaking his head.

"No, seriously," Trevor continued. "I've met a lot of girls, but Harrie? Total rocket. If you ever mess it up, I'm just saying..." He winked.

"Don't even think about it," Jack cut in with a mock glare. "Harrie's off-limits. For all of you. Except Q... I guess."

Trevor raised his beer, grinning. "Alright, here's to Quinn! The lucky bastard."

Harrie was at her desk, scrolling through her work emails, trying to focus on her job. But her mind kept drifting back to Quinn and Jack. It was a relief to clear the air with Jack, but she was still worried about Quinn's reaction to everything.

Her phone buzzed, pulling all her attention away from her work.

Huggy <3: Check your email.

What was he up to? She opened her personal email, her heart skipping a beat when she saw an email for a flight confirmation. She clicked on it, scanning the details.

Quinn had bought her a ticket to Michigan.

She immediately called him. "Quinn! You got me a plane ticket?"

Quinn chuckled on the other end. "Yeah. I figured you should be here for the last few days of the trip. Besides, I miss you."

"But... what about Jack? I don't want to make things weird. Er, weirder. What if he's not okay with me being there?"

"Don't worry about Jack. I already talked to him. It's all good. He's cool with it. Actually, I think he wants you to come."

Harrie blinked, surprised. "Wh- really?"

"Really. So pack your bags, baby. You've got a flight to catch tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll see you soon," she squealed.

"I can't wait."

Harrie rushed toward Quinn, but before she could say anything, he pulled her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waist as he picked her up and spun her around, like he often did at home.

"You made it," he kissed her temple.

"Of course I did! You're not getting rid of me that easily."

A few hours later, they arrived at the dock where the rest of the guys were hanging out. Jack spotted them first, his eyes flickering to Harrie, and for a second his expression was unreadable. The he smiled, a genuine smile, and nodded toward them.

"Hey Harrie," he waved them over. "Glad you could make it."

She smiled back. "Thanks. Good to see you too, Jack."

They exchanged a quick hug, and when Harrie glanced up at Quinn, he was smiling brightly. No tension, no awkwardness. Jack had come to terms with it, and they could all move forward.

Jack watched Harrie and Quinn move around the house, spending time together, and laughing like they were in their own little world. It wasn't forced, but it also wasn't anything like the dynamic she and Jack had had once upon a time. They were different people now. They way Quinn looked at her--like she was the only person in the room--was something that Jack had never really felt when he and Harrie had been together.

It him then that he had just been a kid when he and Harrie dated. Sure, they'd had something good, but it was nothing like that. Harrie and Quinn were in love, and it was clear as day. And he wasn't going to stand in the way of that.

"You really are a lucky bastard," Jack clapped Quinn on the back. "But you already knew that, huh?"

Quinn laughed, his arm still slung over Harrie's shoulders. "Yeah, I know."

"For real though. I'm happy for you guys. Really, I mean it."

Harrie smiled softly, nodding in appreciation. "Thanks, Jack. Means a lot."

Later that night, Harrie and Quinn were curled up in bed together, the cool breeze from the lake drifting through the cracked window. They'd been talking for hours, just enjoying each other's company.

Harrie was lying with her head on Quinn's chest, listening to his heartbeat while he absentmindedly ran his hand through her hair.

"You know," she whispered, "this trip was... perfect. I didn't think it would be. But it was. You, me, Jack--everything is like falling into place."

"I'm glad you're here."

They fell silent again. Quinn had been thinking about it ever since she'd said it on the phone... that she loved him. He hadn't been able to say it back then, but, lying there with her, knowing what they'd had to deal with, there was no doubt left in his mind.

"Harrie."

She lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest, her eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "I love you."

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, but slowly a smile broke across her face. "You do?"

Quinn nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I do. I love you."

Harrie leaned in, kissing him softly, her lips warm against his. "I love you too," she whispered.

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other's arms, the weight of the world finally being lifted from their shoulders, knowing that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine

461 notes · View notes