#player x player fic

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. “Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[catchastarorten]

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

[demiec0re]

HOW SQUID GAME 2 MEN WOULD TREAT YOU!

pairings! : kang dae-ho (player 388) x fem! reader, park gyeong-seok (player 246) x fem! reader, lee myung-gi (player 333) x fem!reader, park min-su (player 125) x fem! reader and choi su-bong/ thanos (player 230) x fem! reader

warnings! : mentions of panic attacks, smut, dr*g usage, mentions of violence (fighting), a tinsy bit of angst. let me know if i forgot anything!!

will contain sfw and nsfw headcannons!!

1. KANG DAE-HO

sfw.

- this man would be the softest, cutest, most caring man when it comes to you!

- if you guys are in the games, you are his first priority and will always make sure your health is 100%. gives you his food if you’re still that finest but hungry after dinner and pretends he doesn’t want it so you don’t feel bad.

- insists you make friends with people so that you’re safe in here. drags you over to his new group who give you a warm welcome. they make sure you’re safe throughout every game which you’re extremely thankful for.

- after the riot, he comes back shaking and sweating. you can tell he’s having a panic attack due to the gunshots reminding him of his time in the marines. you’ve have experience with this so you instantly leave your conversation with hyun-ju and jun-hee.

- you comb your fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him down which works. you also rub his back and clear the sweat from his forehead whilst telling him it’s okay and you have him.

- it works and he’s calm.

nsfw.

- soft dom. wants you to feel as calm and comfortable as possible.

-deffo likes missionary and when you ride him so he can look at your face and wipe sweat from your forehead. he praises you like crazyyyyy and you would never hear anything degrading fall from his lips. ever.

-gives you little pecks on your neck which get more light and feather-y when leading down to your chest.

- when your legs get tired he can tell and flips you over to help you finish the job. makes sure you’ve came and you feel good before he does. just like he prioritises your safety in the games, he prioritises your enjoyment in the bedroom.

-he’s big with aftercare. wether you want a bath ran with rose petals and wine plus his company or just a wipe down and a massage you’ll get what you want because he loves you sosososo much.

-will make sure you’ve drifted off before he has. cuddles you from behind like a big bear!

2. PARK GYEON-SEOK

sfw.

- also prioritises your safety in the games. he’s gentle with you and you stick with him the whole time.

- he tells you about nayeon and his unfortunate position which you completely understand and you want to help him when the pair of you get out.

- will peck you before bed which the other guys think is soooo cute. he gets a little shy when they mention it. if anything occurs during the night, he’ll rush by your side and protect you at all costs.

- when the riot occurs you had preferred him not to go in case anything happened, only thinking of nayeon. when he’s not back for a while and eveyonr else is, you panic, big time.

- with tears escaping your eyes and several of the girls comforting you, a figure runs towards you. it’s none other than him! you’re super relived and you calm down when he convinces you that he’s completely fine.

- when you guys get out, you meet nayeon who’s absolutely adores you and gets all smiley when you’re around. she looks up to you as a motherly figure. when she’s better due to the money you both earned from the gruelling games, her hair grows back which you braid and style with clips everyday.

nswf.

- he fucks you slowly so you can feel every last drop of intimacy and love his man is pouring into your experience with him. also likes positions where he can admire your face.

- is vocal but not too vocal so you’ll hear a grunt and or a deep moan every now and again.

- another soft dom. doesn’t use toys or anything like that and likes it pure and simple. he’s a bit old fashioned so if you want anything like that he wouldn’t be too sure about it.

- eats you out with so much care and stops every few minutes to kiss your clit. this sends shivers down your spine. you grip his hair which spurs him on a little.

- makes sure you clean and happy after sex and sometimes falls asleep before you if he’s had a long day due to work or taking care of his daughter. you don’t mind bescuse you get to admire his beautiful face whilst he gets some rest.

3. LEE MYUNG-GI

sfw.

- makes sure you stick with him the whole time because he doesn’t want to have encounters with the wrong people like thanos who’s had his eye on you a couple times.

- gets into fights all the time, some of which revolve around you and his relationship with you. after he comes back with new bruises, you kiss them and urge him to stop getting into silly cat fights to which he rolls his eyes but agrees

- he has a soft spot for you and doesn’t really care about anyone else. always has an eye on you and during the mingle game you never. ever. leave his side.

- protects you and himself in fights during the night. will fight off anyone who even looks at you during them.

- during the riot, assures you all is okay and you’ll be fine. he was right. and when you guys get out, he takes care of you so well after you force him to pay off his debts to others which he didn’t really want to do.

nsfw.

- is more rough with you but still a soft dom. will degrade you from time to time with names like slut but nothing too heavy.

- will draw multiple orgasms from within you which leaves you seeing stars. he makes sure your always okay though.

- always comes in you and likes when you pull his hair or scratch his back while you’re getting off. he is much more vocal than the other guys and you guys’ moans combine to make a beautiful symphony.

- will wipe you down after sex but doesn’t do too much aftercare for you. he will run his fingers through your hair or massages you. makes sure you pee straight after because he read somewhere that you can get a UTI if you don’t which worries him.

-makes sure you fall asleep before him because he’s a gentleman.

4. PARK MIN-SU

sfw.

- is extremely sweet to you and loves you so much. initially didn’t want you to join the games with him but didn’t stop you.

- unfortunately he cannot protect you very well so most of the time during the night you’re the one fending for both of you but it’s okay because you love him.

- doesn’t speak up when thanos or any of his other leeches makes comments about you purely because he’s too timid to do anything. you stick up for yourself which he’s proud of you for.

- you comfort eachother during the riot

- when you guys get out you live a pretty peaceful and calm life which he enjoys and he pays for you guys’ meals out and pays for stuff he thinks you’d like which you find very sweet.

i didn’t write anything nsfw for min-su because i just can’t think of him doing anything like that 😭 sorry.

5. CHOI SU-BONG (thanos)

sfw.

- will call you names like señorita which you weren’t too fond of at first but the more he said it the more it grew on you.

-offers you his silly pills which you sternly reject. he doesn’t say anything more of them to you. you hate the fast that he takes them but you don’t want to nag him about it.

- during mingle, he physically kicks people away in order to secure a room for you guys which you think is wrong but you don’t say anything. after he notices you crying he quickly hugs you and tells you you’ll be fine which doesn’t really work but you stop crying anyway.

- drags you everywhere with him and makes you sit with his group who you don’t like at all besides se-mi who you grow fond of. when she changes her mind to X you knew it wouldn’t end well for her. you were correct.

- during night fights, you’re 100% safe because no- one would dare to do anything to you because they know what a nut job thanos is.

nswf.

- will fuck you rough and hard.

- also makes you come several times and might even make you squirt! doesn’t care where you guys are, sex is sex and he’s willing to get off if you are

- doesn’t really matter to him wether you come or not because all long as he has, eveything is good. pops a pill during it to increase him stamina which is already high enough.

- several rounds with him and you get overstimulated by the third one. he wants to go for a forth but you have to make it extremely clear that your body can’t handle it anymore.

- he likes doggy because then he can get nice and deep within your velvety walls. quite vocal and groans loudly, many even louder than you. degrading, toys and tears are alll his stimulants and will drive him on further.

- doesn’t have a clue about aftercare and will simply let out a loud and deep sigh after tying up the rubber and flop straight onto his back. he’s out like a light and is already sleeping deeply.

- your used to it so you just mirror his loud sigh and turn over and fall asleep aswell.

- hope you guys enjoyed this! if you want a version for the squid game girls (both s1 +2) lmk!!

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[lov3notts]

End Zone

cheerleading!reader x quidditchplayer!theo

summary: theo gets jealous during his game when he sees Cedric flirting with you. also based on this request

warning: toxic theo, jealousy, unprotected, praising& degrading, creampie, locker room??

a/n: my first request, struggled a lot with this but its done!! I will most likely be MIA due to finals but hopefully I'll have something up for Christmas? enjoy :)

18+only: minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

The game is in full swing, the stands packed with cheering fans. You're on the sidelines with your cheer squad, leading the crowd in chants and cheers. The adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your body moving in perfect sync with your teammates.

Suddenly, a Slytherin player scores a goal, and the crowd goes wild. In the commotion, Theo makes his way over to the sidelines, Theo zooms past on his broom, he catches your eye and grins, winking at you flirtatiously. You roll your eyes and turn away, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. 

You've been hooking up with Theo for months now, but he refuses to commit to anything more than casual sex. It's starting to wear on you, the constant string of mixed signals and empty promises.

As you continue your routine, you can't shake the feeling of Theodore's eyes on you. His presence is like a physical force, drawing your attention even as you try to focus on the game. 

The match continues, the score seesawing back and forth, but your mind isn’t focused on the game

you're so lost in thought that you barely register the game going on above you. 

your eyes are focused on the ground, your mind wandering to places you’d rather not go. It's only when you feel a tap on your shoulder that you snap back to reality

Theo soars through the air, the wind whipping at his face, he spots you on the sidelines, distracted but still cheering and swaying your pom-poms. But it's not just your lack of enthusiasm that catches his eye - it's the tall, handsome figure standing beside you, the one with the easy grin and the sparkle in his eye.

Cedric Diggory.

you turn to see Cedric standing beside you, sending a friendly smile.

"Hey there," he says, his Hufflepuff uniform looking crisp and clean despite the intense game.

"Hey, Cedric" you reply, returning his smile. You two make small talk for a few minutes, discussing the game and your respective teams. Cedric is charming and attentive, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth as he listens intently to every word you say.

"I noticed Nott seems to be playing extra hard today. Must be all that pent-up energy from studying for exams." cedric says as he leans closer to you

you chuckle at his joke “yeah, exams”

Theo's grip tightens on his broomstick, his knuckles turning white. He watches as Cedric leans in close, saying something that makes you laugh. The sound of your laughter cuts through the roar of the crowd, piercing Theo's heart like a Bludger.

Jealousy surges through his veins, hot and bitter. Theo's gaze burns into the back of your neck, and you can practically feel the waves of jealousy radiating off him. He plays more aggressively than ever, his broom dipping and weaving as he tries to outmaneuver the ravenclaw team.

His grip tightens on his broom handle as he zooms past the stands, his mind racing.

He knows he has no right to be jealous, not after he told you he didn’t want anything serious. But seeing you with someone else, laughing and smiling like that, it's like a punch to the gut. He wants to march over there and tear Cedric away from you, to remind you that you belong to him.

You can't help but notice Theo’s intense gaze locked on you and Cedric as you chat on the sidelines. Even from across the pitch, you can see the jealousy burning in Theo's eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he watches Cedric lean in close to hear you over the roar of the crowd.

A part of you feels a thrill at seeing Theo so clearly affected by your interaction with another guy. It's a power trip, knowing that you have that kind of hold over him. Theo zips past the other players, his broomstick cutting through the air like a knife. There's a wildness to his flying, a recklessness that both thrills and terrifies you.

you bite your lip, torn between wanting to reassure Theo that there's nothing going on between Cedric and you, and the desire to let him stew in his jealousy a little longer. It's petty, you know, but seeing him so worked up over you is intoxicating.

In the end, you decided to play it cool, focusing your attention on the game and cheering loudly for slytherin. But you can't help sneaking glances at Theo, watching for any sign of how he's handling your conversation with Cedric.

And deep down, you have to admit that a part of you is hoping he'll do something dramatic, something that will force him to confront all his feelings for you once and for all.

As the final whistle blows, announcing Slytherin's victory, the green and silver stands erupt in cheers. you join in the celebration, waving my pom-poms and shouting for your team. But even as you revel in our hard-fought win, your eyes are drawn to Theo.

He's hovering near the ground, his chest heaving with exertion, a triumphant grin on his face. The other Slytherin players mob him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his impressive performance. But Theodore seems oblivious to their praise, his gaze fixed on you.

He strides towards you, his movements purposeful and angry. As he approaches, you can see the tension radiating off him, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides. But then you remember Cedric, still standing beside you, feeling a twinge of anxiety .

When he reaches you, he doesn't even acknowledge Cedric, his gaze laser-focused on you.

Theo grabs your hand roughly, his fingers intertwined with yours as he drags you towards the locker room. His pace is fast, almost frantic, as he weaves through the crowd of celebrating players and cheering fans.

Once inside, he slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing in the empty room. 

You're alone now, trapped with the angry, jealous Theodore you've managed to provoke.

He turns to face you, his chest heaving with exertion and his eyes dark with a mix of anger and desire.

“Diggory huh? look who's cozying up to the enemy."

You feel your face heating up, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment rising in your chest. 

"I wasn't cozying up with anyone," you snap, trying to keep your voice steady.  "I was just being friendly. It's part of my job as a cheerleader."

Theo lets out a short, derisive laugh.

"Friendly? Is that what you call it?." He leans in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear.

he purrs, his voice low and threatening. "You think you can just toy with me and get away with it?"

his breath hot against your face. "You're mine, dolcezza. Whether you like it or not. And I won't let Hufflepuffs golden boy come between us." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to the bruising grip on your arm.

"You belong with me. You always have. And I won't let you forget it."

His hand slides up your thigh, his touch possessive and demanding. your heart pounding in your chest.

You know you should pull away, tell him off for his arrogance and possessiveness. But there's a part of you that thrills at his words, that wants to give in to the desire that's been building.

Theo's lips crash against yours, his kiss rough and hungry. He devours your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you as his own. His hands roam over your body, slipping under your cheerleader uniform, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and your skin flushed. Theo's eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your body with a predatory intensity.

"You had your fun out there, Bella," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Teasing me, flirting with that prick. Well, now it's my turn."

You watch as he strips off his Quidditch uniform, his lean, muscular body on full display. Your mouth goes dry, your pulse racing at the sight of him.

Theodore turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Theodore leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, let's see if you can follow orders like a good little cheerleader."

He shoves you to your knees, his hand fisting in your hair. You gasp as he forces your head towards his crotch, the bulge in his Quidditch pants impossible to ignore.

"Go on, bella. Show me how sorry you are. Show me that smart mouth of yours can be put to better use than running off at the gutter."

His words are harsh, but you can feel the heat of his arousal pressing against your face. Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach for his zipper, your fingers trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you free his cock from the confines of his pants, no matter how many times you’ve seen him you can't help but stare. He's huge, thick and hard and throbbing with need.

Theo's hand tightens in your hair, urging you forward.

“Well, someone’s inpatient” you tease 

"Don't make me tell you again, dolcezza. Put that pretty little mouth to work before I really lose my temper."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the thought of submitting to Theodore's desires is just too tempting to resist.

He rocks his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. You can feel the heat of his skin, the pulsing need that radiates from his core. Your mouth waters as you imagine the taste of him, the feel of his thick shaft sliding over your tongue.

"Open that smart mouth of yours and put it to good use. Show me how much you want to please me."he warns, his voice a low rumble.

With a shaky breath, you part your lips, letting your tongue dart out to taste the bead of pre-cum that leaks from the tip of his cock.

Theo groans, his grip on your hair tightening as he guides you forward. You open wider, taking him into your mouth inch by delicious inch. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, salty and musky and utterly intoxicating.

As you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper with each movement, Theodore's breath comes in harsh pants. His hips rock forward, meeting your mouth with each downward stroke. You can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

The locker room is filled with the wet sounds of your sucking, the grunts and groans of Theo's pleasure. You lose yourself in the rhythm, in the feel of his cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

As Theodore's cock slides deeper into your mouth, you can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

His grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to take him even deeper. You gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but the discomfort is quickly overtaken by a sense of power, of control.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster. Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive flesh. Theodore groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth.

"Fuck, tesoro" he gasps, his voice rough with pleasure. "Just like that. Use that pretty little mouth of yours to make me feel good."

His words spur you on, and you double your efforts. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The look in his gaze is one of pure, unadulterated lust. He's watching you, drinking in the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock. His free hand moves to grip your chin, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper.

"You like this, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. 

"Like being on your knees for me, like having my cock in your mouth. I bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and excitement. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, shouldn't revel in the degradation of it all. But the truth is, you do.

You love the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of him on your tongue.

He rocks his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into your throat. You gag and sputter around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But the pain only seems to spur him on, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

"You wanted to get me all worked up, did you? Wanted to see what I'd do? Well, here's your answer.",

The taste of him fills your senses, the musky scent of his arousal making your head spin. You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster, determined to bring him to the edge.

Theo groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you as you bob your head up and down his length.

 "Fuck, yes,"he hisses, his voice strained with pleasure. "Just like that. You're going to make me cum so hard, tesoro. You're going to swallow every last drop.” your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock, teasing the slit.

Theo's breathing becomes more ragged, his thrusts more erratic. You can tell he's close, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. "That's it" he growls, his voice a low rumble.

"Don't stop. I'm going to cum down your pretty little throat, dolcezza. You're going to drink every last drop like a good girl."

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your mouth. You can feel him pulsing, throbbing against your tongue as he reaches his climax. Hot, bitter fluid floods your mouth, and you have no choice but to swallow it down.

As he pulls out, a string of cum connects your lips to the head of his cock. He wipes it away with a careless swipe of his thumb, smearing it across your cheek.

"There's a good girl" he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "You took your punishment well. I think you've learned your lesson about flirting with other boys, haven't you?"

You can only nod, your mouth still full of the taste of him. Your thighs rub together, the ache between them a constant reminder of your own arousal. But you know better than to ask for anything more.

Theo tucks himself back into his pants, his eyes never leaving your face. He looks pleased with himself, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Get up," he commands, releasing his grip on your hair. "We're not done yet. I still have a few more lessons to teach you."

With shaking legs, you rise to your feet, your knees weak from kneeling on the hard floor.

Theo's hand finds your ass, giving it a rough squeeze as he guides you towards one of the benches.

"Bend over" he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You bend over the bench, Your skimpy cheerleader skirt rides up to reveal the curve of your ass, exposing the lacy panties underneath. You can feel his eyes on you, drinking in the sight of your vulnerable position.

A smirk plays on your lips. You can't help but poke the bear, even as your heart races with anticipation

"Ooh, I'm sooo scared," you drawl, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever shall I do?

The big bad Slytherin is going to punish me for flirting with another boy. I might just faint from the sheer terror of it all."

You hear Theo's sharp intake of breath behind you, followed by the sound of his palm cracking against your ass. The sting is immediate, a hot burst of pain that sends shockwaves through your body.

"Watch it, Bella" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days."

His hand comes down again, harder this time, the force of it sending a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain straight to your core. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

"That's it, keep that smart mouth shut,"

Theodore taunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he kneads the reddened skin.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see" Theo whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

"And you're going to take it like a good little slut, aren't you?"

He reaches down, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your aching sex. You're already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin. Theo chuckles darkly as he feels how wet you are.

"Look at you, getting off on this. You're sick, you know that? Teasing me, flirting with other boys, just to get a rise out of me." His fingers slide under your panties, teasing your swollen folds. You can't help but arch into his touch, desperate for more.

"Beg for it, tesoro" he demands, his voice rough with desire.

 "Beg me to fuck you like the naughty little slut you are. Maybe if you beg nicely enough, l'Il give you what you want."His words are cruel, but they only serve to fuel your arousal. You're desperate for him, desperate for the release only he can give you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

"Fuck you, Theodore" you hiss, glaring back at him over your shoulder.

“awe come on baby, i know you can’t resist me”

His fingers dip inside you, stroking your inner walls. You can't help but moan at the intrusion, your hips bucking back against his hand. Theodore chuckles darkly, his thumb finding your clit and circling it mercilessly.

"That's it, let me hear you," he taunts, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping core.

Theodore's fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, your hips bucking back against his hand as you chase your pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growls, his voice low and dark

You can't hold back any longer. As his fingers drive deeper, his thumb pressing harder on your clit, you let out a loud, wanton moan.

Your back arches, pushing your hips back against his hand, desperate for more of that exquisite pleasure.

"Fuck, Theo!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the locker room walls. "Please, don't stop!"

Theodore chuckles darkly, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your most intimate places. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's more like it, You sound so pretty when you beg." he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Theo's fingers pump harder, faster, his thumb rubbing your clit with merciless precision. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. The wet sounds of your arousal fill the locker room, mixing with the slap of skin on skin as he fucks you with his fingers.

"That's it, tesoro" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me. Show me how much you want it. I want to feel you clenching around my fingers, begging for more."

You're so close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy, your body trembling with need. With a final, brutal thrust of his fingers, Theo sends you over the edge.

“oh godd” Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as you cum hard. You cry out, your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to finger-fuck you through your climax, drawing out your pleasure until you're a boneless, panting mess.

As you come down from your high, Theo withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his eyes locked on yours as he savors your taste.

"Delicious" he purrs, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "But we're far from done. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only name you remember is mine."

Theo's hands grip your hips, he positions you on your hands and knees on the bench. his fingers digging into your flesh as he positions himself at your entrance. You can feel the heat of his cock, the hardness of it pressing insistently against your sensitive folds. 

"Spread your legs wider,tesoro” he commands, his voice rough with lust. "Let me see that pretty little cunt." With a brutal thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're so tight" he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel every inch of you squeezing around my cock."

He sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that steals your breath. The bench creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin, the grunts and moans of your mutual pleasure.

Theo's hips snap forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust.

His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing as he fucks you. He reaches around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Mine to fuck, mine to use, mine to claim. Say it." he growls, his voice rough with desire

The moment you hesitate, Theo's hand cracks across your ass in a stinging slap.

"I said, say it" he demands, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me who you belong to."

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, instead thrusting forward hard and fast.

You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing at the familiar burn of being filled so completely.

Theodore doesn't pause, pulling back only to slam into you again, setting a brutal pace. The force of his thrusts rocks you forward on the bench, your breasts bouncing with each harsh snap of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the locker room, mixing with your moans and Theo's grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he pants, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. "So tight, so perfect for my cock.”

You can feel your pleasure building with each thrust, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for more. Theodore leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you relentlessly.

"Say it," he growls in your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck. 

"Tell me who you belong to”

You're so close to the edge, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. But you refuse to give in, refuse to give Theodore the satisfaction of hearing you submit. Instead, you clench down hard on his cock, trying to distract him, to throw him off balance.

It works, at least for a moment. Theo curses, his hips stuttering as your walls grip him like a vice. But he quickly recovers, pulling out entirely and flipping you over onto your back. He hovers above you, his eyes dark with lust and frustration.

Theo looms over you, his eyes wild with lust and frustration. You meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to submit, to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. Instead, you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down to you.

"You're mine, Theodore," you whisper, your voice low and seductive. "You've always been mine, even if you won't admit it. Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

Your challenge hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. Theo's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. But you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, the momentary crack in his carefully constructed facade.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Fuck, Bella" he pants, his voice strained.

"You drive me crazy. You make me want things I shouldn't want, feel things I shouldn't feel. But you're right. I am yours, just as much as you're mine. We belong to each other, whether we like it or not."

Theodore's admission hangs in the air between you, a confession whispered in the heat of passion. He gazes down at you, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before the hunger returns, dark and intense. His hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust driving him deeper, filling you completely.

"My perfect little minx, my tempting little tease. You drive me insane, make me want to possess every inch of you, claim you in ways no one else ever could." he growls, his voice low and possessive.

His hand slides up your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast before palming the soft mound 

Theo's hand slides lower, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. Your hips buck against him, seeking more of that delicious friction. He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, my little slut" he purrs, his voice dripping with praise. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back as he leans down to claim your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue delves deep, exploring, conquering, leaving no doubt as to who owns you.

You moan into his mouth, your own tongue tangling with his in a dance of dominance and submission.

Theodore's thrusts grow harder, faster, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. You can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for release.

"You're going to be the death of me, dolcezza. But what a way to go." he growls, his lips crashing against yours in a brutal kiss.

He angles his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Each stroke sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, building the tension coiling in your core.

"Harder," you gasp, your voice raw with need.

"Fuck me harder, Theo. I can take it. I want it." you whine out

Theo obliges, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more brutal. The bench creaks beneath you, the metal frame rattling with each powerful stroke. You can feel him growing harder inside you, his cock throbbing against your walls.

Theo's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. The added stimulation is almost too much, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"Cum for me, Bella " he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Cum on my cock like a good girl. Show me who you belong to."

Theo groans, his hips stuttering as he nears his own climax.

"Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Fuck, I'm going to fill you up so good."

“omg theo!” You cry out, your back arching off the bench as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to pound into you, riding out your climax with his own.

Even as your orgasm crashes over you, Theodore doesn't let up. He continues to pound into you, his hips slamming against yours with relentless force. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your overstimulated nerves screaming with pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible when you cum" Theo groans, his voice strained with effort. 

"So tight, so perfect. I could fuck you like this forever, make you cum over and over again until you're a satisfied mess."

"Theo" you moan, your voice raw and desperate. "I can't... I can't take anymore. It's too much."

But even as you protest, your hips are moving in time with his, meeting each of his thrusts with your own. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body responding to his touches even as your mind struggles to keep up.

“It's okay baby just a little longer, you can handle it right?”

you nod not being able to say anything else

His hip quicken as he feels his release approaching 

“fuck fuck fuck” he cries out, his voice raw with pleasure

Theo slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat. His body tenses, his muscles rigid as his climax hits him like a freight train. With a guttural groan, he finds his release, his cock pulsing and twitching as he fills you with his seed.

The sensation is overwhelming, your oversensitive body shaking and quivering with the force of his orgasm. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, your body milking him for all he's worth.

Gradually, his thrusts slow, his body relaxing as he comes down from his high. He collapses beside you on the bench, both of you gasping for breath, your bodies glistening with sweat. For a moment, there is only the sound of your ragged breathing, the pounding of your hearts gradually slowing.

Theo reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. His touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, a hint of vulnerability in their depths.

You reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. You both pour all your feelings into the kiss, all the emotions you’ve been trying to deny, to suppress.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathless, smiling softly at each other. Theodore's hand slides down your side, his fingers interlacing with yours.

"no more games" he whispers as he kisses your forehead "just you & me okay?"

“just you and me” 

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

tag list: @leona-hawthorne @kaliuchislov4r @esmerai-artemis @5cr3w101

[777bae]

FALLING INTO PLACE LUKE HUGHES

Summary :: You’ve always been best friends with Jack, but it’s his quieter, more patient brother Luke who’s been there all along. As you grow older, the bond between you and Luke transforms into something deeper, forcing you to finally see him in a new light.

Warnings :: reader is blind to love, small age gap (reader is the same age as Jack), unrequited love (+ a small amount of heartbreak), angst with eventual fluff, childhood friends(ish) to lovers, kissing, mini arguments, brief description of minor injuries, pining

Word count :: 22.3k

The Hughes family had always been a part of your life.

From the moment you were born, they were there—just next door, just across the lawn, just within reach. Your parents had moved into the neighborhood the same year you and Jack were born, and from the time you were old enough to crawl, your lives had been tangled together like the overgrown vines on the fences separating your yards.

There was never a time when Jack Hughes wasn’t in your world. He was there for every scraped knee, every birthday candle, every summer afternoon spent chasing fireflies. The moment you took your first wobbly steps, Jack had been beside you, already running, already pulling you along with that infectious, boundless energy of his. He wasn’t just your neighbor; he was your person.

It was inevitable, really. Your parents had been close from the start, the kind of friendship that formed effortlessly when two young families found themselves living side by side, both navigating sleepless nights with newborns. Your mothers had bonded over shared exhaustion—late-night feedings, first words, first steps—and before long, you and Jack had become an extension of that bond.

He was the first friend you ever made. And for the longest time, he was the only one that mattered.

Your days had a rhythm, an unspoken routine that started long before either of you were old enough to understand what routine even meant.

Every morning—without fail—there was a knock on your bedroom window. Not a polite tap, not a soft greeting, but a loud, impatient thud thud thud that had your parents groaning in the next room, already knowing exactly who it was.

“Jack, sweetheart, use the front door like a normal person,” your mother had called out once, exasperated.

“But it’s faster this way!” Jack had shot back, as if that explained everything.

And so, every morning, you would shuffle to the window, still half-asleep, and push it open. Jack’s face—grinning, eager, already bursting with energy—would be waiting for you.

“Come on,” he’d say, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We’re racing bikes today.” Or “Quinn says we can use his hockey net!” Or “Mom made waffles. You have to come over.”

It didn’t matter what the plan was. You always went. Because Jack always made everything sound like the most exciting thing in the world.

Some mornings, he barely gave you time to get dressed before dragging you outside. There were days when you stumbled out of your house still in your pajamas, only half-awake, your hair a tangled mess, while Jack was already running down the driveway, laughing over his shoulder, challenging you to catch up.

Other days, he climbed right into your room through the window, ignoring every possible protest, flopping onto your bed as if it was his own, acting like there was nothing unusual about breaking into his best friend’s house before 8 AM.

“Jack, you can’t just—”

“Hurry up, Y/N!” he’d groan dramatically, burying his face in your pillow. “We’re wasting daylight!”

You had long since stopped trying to argue with him.

The Hughes’ house wasn’t just Jack’s home—it was yours, too. It had been for as long as you could remember.

You knew that house like the back of your hand. You knew exactly which steps on the staircase creaked the loudest—the third from the bottom and the second from the top—making it impossible to sneak around undetected. You knew where Ellen kept the extra blankets in the hall closet, the ones you always pulled out when you inevitably fell asleep on their couch after a long day of playing outside. You knew that Jim liked his coffee strong and black, and that Jack—despite his endless energy—could never function properly before noon without something sweet to eat.

Their fridge might as well have been yours. You never thought twice about opening it and grabbing a snack, just as Jack never hesitated to raid your pantry for whatever chips or cookies your mom had bought that week. If the Hughes were ordering pizza, there was always an unspoken assumption that you were staying for dinner.

There were no formalities in their home. No knocking on doors, no need for permission. You walked in and out as freely as if it was your own house.

Ellen treated you like one of her own, scolding you and Jack equally when you got into trouble (which was often). Quinn, the responsible older brother, always made sure you were safe, always keeping an eye on you when Jack got too carried away. And Luke… well, Luke had always been there, too.

The Hughes house was warmth and laughter, noise and chaos. It was yelling over video games in the basement, the sound of skates scraping against the driveway, the echo of Jack’s voice calling your name as he ran up to your door, never bothering to knock before barging in.

It was home.

You fit there. As if you had always belonged.

But Jack wasn’t the only Hughes brother in your life.

From the very beginning, Quinn had taken on the role of your unofficial older brother.

He was only a few years older than you and Jack, but at that age, those few years felt like a lifetime. He was bigger, stronger, wiser, as you and Jack had once believed. In a world where Jack was all reckless enthusiasm and boundless energy, Quinn was the counterbalance—the quiet, steady presence who made sure neither of you got into too much trouble.

It wasn’t that Quinn didn’t join in on the chaos—he did, when it suited him—but he was always the one who knew better. The one who thought things through. And, more often than not, the one who had to clean up whatever mess you and Jack inevitably got yourselves into.

If Jack came up with a stupid idea, it was Quinn who sighed, crossed his arms, and shook his head.

“You’re going to break something.”

“No, we’re not!” Jack would insist, already halfway through convincing you to do whatever dangerous, poorly thought-out scheme he had concocted that day.

Quinn would roll his eyes, mumbling something about how he was too young to be dealing with this, but he never truly left you to your own devices. Because when—not if, but when—Jack’s plan went sideways, Quinn was always the one to step in and make sure neither of you got too hurt.

When you were five, Jack decided he was going to make you a hockey player.

It was a rainy afternoon, and the three of you were stuck inside, boredom settling in like an itch that neither you nor Jack could stand for long. You had spent the last hour sitting in the Hughes’ living room, fidgeting, when Jack suddenly bolted upright, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Let’s play mini sticks!” he had declared, already sprinting toward the basement.

You had barely even known what mini sticks were at the time, but you followed anyway, because that was just how things worked—Jack decided something, and you went along with it.

The moment you got downstairs, Jack shoved a tiny plastic stick into your hands and pointed at the net they had set up against the far wall.

“Okay, you have to score on me,” he said, crouching down in front of the goal, holding a goalie stick that was nearly as big as he was.

You looked down at the mini stick, then back at Jack.

“How?”

Jack groaned dramatically, as if your question physically pained him.

“Just hit the ball into the net! It’s not that hard!”

But it was hard. You didn’t know how to hold the stick properly, didn’t know how to control the ball, and every time you tried to take a shot, it rolled harmlessly to Jack’s feet.

Jack, to his credit, lasted all of three minutes before he got frustrated.

“No, no, no!” he huffed, marching over to you. “You’re doing it all wrong!”

“Well, I don’t know how to do it right!” you shot back, annoyed.

Jack groaned again, clearly ready to give up, but before he could, another voice chimed in.

“Here—like this.”

You looked up to see Quinn kneeling beside you, his own mini stick in hand. Unlike Jack, he was patient. He adjusted your grip, gently moving your hands into the right position. He showed you how to angle your stick, how to follow through on a shot.

“It’s all about control,” he explained, demonstrating with an easy flick of his wrist. The ball soared cleanly into the top corner of the net.

Your eyes widened. That was how you were supposed to do it?

“Try again,” Quinn encouraged, nudging the ball toward you.

You did. And this time, the shot actually had some power behind it. Not much—but enough.

Quinn smiled.

Jack groaned.

“Okay, fine, she’s kinda good,” Jack admitted.

But even after that, whenever you struggled with something—hockey or otherwise—it was always Quinn you turned to. Because where Jack would get frustrated and impatient, Quinn would always take the time to help.

Jack’s impulsive nature meant that you got into a lot of trouble growing up.

One summer, when you were seven, Jack had come up with what he insisted was a foolproof plan—jumping off the swing at its highest point to see who could land the farthest.

“It’s so easy,” Jack had said, already climbing onto the seat. “You just have to time it right.”

You had been hesitant.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, obviously.”

Quinn, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, had sighed heavily.

“You’re going to break your arm, idiot.”

Jack ignored him.

And, predictably, about five seconds later, Jack launched himself off the swing, flailed wildly in the air, and landed in an ungraceful heap on the grass.

To his credit, he hadn’t broken his arm. But he had managed to knock the wind out of himself so badly that he lay there gasping like a fish while Quinn stood over him, unimpressed.

“I told you,” Quinn muttered, before turning to you. “Do not listen to him.”

You listened. Mostly.

But there were still plenty of times when Jack managed to drag you into his ridiculous plans. And, inevitably, there were times when you got hurt.

There had been one particular summer afternoon when Jack had dared you to race him down the street on your bikes.

“I bet I can beat you by so much,” he had taunted, grinning as he climbed onto his bike.

“You wish,” you had shot back, determined to win.

The race had started off fine—pedaling furiously, wind rushing past your face, Jack laughing beside you—but then you hit a pothole.

The bike jolted violently. You lost control.

And the next thing you knew, you were flying over the handlebars.

Pain exploded across your knees and palms as you skidded across the pavement, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

Jack had screeched to a stop, his face a mask of horror.

“Oh my God. Oh my God—are you okay?!”

Your knees were scraped raw, blood trickling down your shins, and your palms stung so badly you thought they might be on fire. You wanted to be tough, wanted to brush it off, but your throat was tight, and tears were already pricking at your eyes.

And then, before you even had time to process what had happened, Quinn was there.

“Jesus, you guys,” he muttered, crouching beside you.

You sniffled, still trying to hold back tears, but Quinn didn’t make a big deal about it. He just scooped you up into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, and started walking you home.

“You’re okay,” he said, voice calm and steady. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Jack trailed behind, looking guilty as hell.

“I—I didn’t think she’d actually fall,” he mumbled.

Quinn shot him a look.

“Of course she fell, Jack. You two don’t think before you do anything.”

Jack had no argument for that.

But even as Quinn sighed, even as he grumbled about “having to babysit two disasters,” you knew he cared.

Because Quinn never let anything happen to you.

And he never would.

Then there was Luke.

Luke had been there from the almost start, having arrived two years late to the world you and Jack had already built together.

It wasn’t that he was unwelcome—not at all. But in the early years, he had been younger—just enough behind you and Jack that the gap felt significant. When you were five, he was three. When you and Jack were racing bikes down the street, Luke was still on training wheels. When you were climbing trees and dangling from the highest branches, Luke was stuck at the bottom, his small hands barely able to reach the first grip.

And no matter how much he wanted to be included, the truth was, there were just some things he was too little for.

Where Jack dragged you into every wild idea that popped into his head, Luke was the one who stood on the sidelines, watching. His wide, eager eyes followed your every move, his tiny fists clenched with determination, his whole body buzzing with the desperate hope that this time—this time—you and Jack might let him in.

“Can I play?” he would ask, gripping his little hockey stick so tightly his knuckles turned white, his gaze flicking between you and Jack.

Jack, more often than not, would groan. “Luke, you’re too little.”

And because Jack was your best friend—the leader of every game, the one who decided what was and wasn’t fun—you had gone along with it.

“Maybe next time, Lukey,” you had said, ruffling his hair before turning to chase after Jack, never noticing the way Luke’s shoulders slumped as he watched you run away.

Luke always wanted to be part of your world.

But back then, you had only seen him as Jack’s little brother.

That didn’t stop Luke from following you both everywhere.

If you and Jack were playing knee hockey in the basement, Luke was there, sitting on the sidelines, cross-legged on the carpet, watching intently. If Jack scored, Luke cheered. If you fell, Luke was the one scrambling up to check if you were okay before Jack even noticed.

If you and Jack were racing across the backyard, Luke was trailing behind, his little legs working furiously to keep up, his breath coming in short, determined puffs.

“Wait for me!”

“Luke, hurry up!” Jack would yell, already halfway across the lawn.

And Luke would hurry. He always hurried, always pushed himself to the limit just to try and close the distance, just to prove that he could keep up with you and Jack.

But more often than not, by the time he caught up, the game had already changed. Jack had already moved on to something bigger, something better.

And Luke—still catching his breath, still trying to process the game that had just ended—would be left standing there, watching as you and Jack disappeared into the next adventure without him.

But Luke never left.

Even when he wasn’t included, even when Jack brushed him off or you followed Jack’s lead without a second thought, Luke stayed.

Because if he couldn’t play, then he would watch.

And when Jack inevitably got bored and abandoned a game to chase after something else—when his attention flitted from knee hockey to soccer to wrestling to something entirely new—Luke was the one who stayed behind.

If Jack left the net in the basement empty, Luke picked up a stick and asked you to shoot on him instead.

If Jack abandoned a game of tag to go inside for a snack, Luke asked you to keep playing.

He never demanded your attention the way Jack did. Never insisted that you pick him first, never threw tantrums when he was left out.

He just waited.

Waited for the moments Jack wasn’t around.

Waited for the moments you finally turned to him.

And you? You never really thought much of it.

Not then.

To you, Luke was just there.

Just part of the background of your life—always orbiting close by, always tagging along if it meant he could be newr you.

It was the summer you were seven, a time when everything still felt simple and innocent. The world was filled with endless possibilities, and your days were spent on adventures with your best friend, Jack. You both had a rhythm—an unspoken understanding that no matter what, you would always be together, running, playing, dreaming. The world had no limits when Jack was by your side. And that evening, in particular, was no different. Or so you thought.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the park, the colors in the sky blending into soft hues of orange and pink. The kind of evening that made everything look surreal, like the entire world was pausing to admire the beauty of the moment. You and Jack were sitting on your usual bench—the wooden one that creaked under the weight of years of memories, positioned perfectly to overlook the expansive field that stretched out before you. The warm summer breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and the sweet scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the distant hum of crickets chirping in the cooling air.

Jack was sitting beside you, legs dangling off the edge of the bench, his sneakers brushing against the ground as he swung his feet back and forth. He was talking, as he always did, hands gesturing wildly as he described yet another hockey game he’d watched on TV with his dad or something that had happened on the ice at practice. His voice was animated, full of the kind of energy that made it impossible not to pay attention. His dark brown eyes were wide with enthusiasm as he recounted the details—who scored the most goals, what move one of the players had pulled off, how he couldn’t wait to try it himself in his next game. It wasn’t surprising to you; hockey was everything to Jack. He lived and breathed it, and you could tell by the way he spoke, by the way his hands moved in the air to illustrate what he was saying, that this game, this sport, was a piece of his very identity.

You smiled at him, your head tilted back against the cool wood of the bench as you half-listened, half-watched the way his face lit up. Jack had always been a little bit wild in his energy. There was something so captivating about the way he threw himself into everything. Whether it was talking about hockey, creating new games to play, or just dragging you along on some new adventure, Jack’s passion was infectious.

But tonight—tonight something felt different. It wasn’t that Jack was any less enthusiastic about hockey, but there was a subtle shift in the air between the two of you. As he spoke, his words becoming more animated, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of something unfamiliar. It was a strange sensation that started somewhere in the pit of your stomach and spread out, slowly working its way into your chest. Maybe it was just the energy of the evening—the warm glow of the setting sun, the peacefulness of the park, or maybe it was something else, something you didn’t fully understand yet. But as Jack’s words flowed around you, you found yourself caught in a strange mix of emotions that you couldn’t name.

You were used to listening to him talk about hockey, about his dreams and his wild plans, but tonight, for the first time, you weren’t just hearing the words. You were feeling them.

You turned to look at him, still speaking at full speed, his words coming faster now, his enthusiasm growing with every sentence. He didn’t even notice you watching him in that way, the way you were suddenly hyper-aware of every little movement—how his hands were moving as he spoke, how the sun reflected off his hair, how his voice had a different cadence tonight, more alive, more… intimate, for lack of a better word. It wasn’t anything tangible. There was no clear reason for why it felt different, but the air between you seemed to hum with a silent understanding that had never been there before.

But then, in the midst of his animated storytelling, Jack turned to you with that familiar mischievous grin, the one that always made your heart flutter a little. You had known that grin for as long as you could remember. It was the kind of grin that meant Jack was about to do or say something unexpected, something that would probably make you laugh or roll your eyes, depending on the day. But tonight, something about it felt different.

Jack was always a whirlwind of energy, the kind of kid who could never sit still for more than five seconds. He had an incredible ability to make anything sound like the best idea in the world. And when he spoke, it was with an infectious excitement, like the entire world was waiting for him to tell it what to do. He could make even the simplest things feel like the start of some grand adventure. And, for the most part, you always followed him. He was your best friend, your partner in crime, and his ideas were always bigger than yours, always more fun.

“We should get married when we’re older,” he said, completely casually, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked, your mind briefly stalling as you processed the words. Your head turned toward him in confusion, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. You weren’t sure whether he was joking, serious, or if it was just another one of his wild ideas. It had to be a joke, right?

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, like you weren’t sure if you’d heard him correctly. You tilted your head, looking up at him with a puzzled expression.

Jack didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in the air. He just smiled wider, clearly pleased with himself for getting your attention. His eyes sparkled as he leaned back, still sitting on the bench beside you, looking out at the sunset like it was the most natural thing in the world. He always had a way of making everything sound so simple, so easy. Like the world was just a place where everything worked out the way it was supposed to. And this—this idea—was no different.

“You can’t just decide that,” you said with a playful shove, trying to brush it off. You wanted to laugh, to keep things light, because it felt like a joke, right? Jack was your best friend, and this was just another one of his offhand remarks. You nudged his shoulder gently, trying to play along, but deep down, you felt a strange fluttering sensation in your chest that you didn’t fully understand.

Jack, however, didn’t back down. His smile didn’t waver for a second. In fact, he seemed to lean into it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He was so sure of himself, his confidence radiating in the way he sat there, relaxed and unfazed by the unexpected question he had just tossed into the air. It was as if he had always known this was where the conversation would lead.

“Why not?” he said with a shrug, as though it was an entirely reasonable suggestion. “You’re my best friend. And married people are best friends, right?”

The words hit you differently than you’d expected. You’d heard about marriage before, sure, but it was always in fairy tales, with knights and princesses and happily-ever-afters. You didn’t really know what marriage meant in a deep, meaningful way, but you understood one thing—Jack was asking you to be with him forever. And though you didn’t know exactly what that looked like, the idea of it felt warm, like the gentle glow of the setting sun.

You laughed, trying to push down the feeling welling up inside you. It was absurd. It was just Jack being Jack, always saying the first thing that popped into his head. Of course, it didn’t mean anything serious. You weren’t even sure he understood what he was really saying.

But still… something about the way he said it—so casually, so confidently—made your heart beat just a little bit faster. The idea of always being with him, of never being apart, settled somewhere deep in your chest. And for the first time, the word “marriage” didn’t feel like a fairy tale. It felt like a real possibility.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The playful, teasing tone you wanted to use felt wrong all of a sudden. Jack’s grin hadn’t faltered, and his eyes were sparkling with the kind of certainty that only he could have. But you weren’t sure anymore whether you were laughing because it was funny, or because it felt real. Too real.

“Yeah, but…” you trailed off, staring at the ground for a moment, unsure of how to explain the confusion that was building inside of you. “We’re just kids. You can’t just decide to get married.”

Jack didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. He shrugged again, unbothered by your hesitation. “Why not? You’re my best friend. We’ve always done everything together. It just makes sense.”

His words lingered in the air, carrying a strange weight you hadn’t expected. His logic was simple, almost childishly so, but it struck something inside of you that made your chest tighten. You looked at him, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time in ages. Jack wasn’t just your best friend. He was something else, something more. And suddenly, you were hyper-aware of everything—the way his hand rested just inches from yours, the way the sun hit his hair, casting a golden halo around him. His words echoed in your mind. It just makes sense.

You felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest, spreading outward like the soft heat of the sun sinking lower on the horizon. You wanted to brush it off, to laugh it off, to keep things the way they always had been between the two of you. But deep down, you knew something had shifted.

You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t expected it, but suddenly you couldn’t imagine a world where Jack wasn’t your best friend, where he wasn’t the person you shared every adventure with. And the thought of being by his side, of being his in a way that was more than just friends, settled over you in a way that made your heart race.

But it didn’t make sense, right? Not now. You were just seven. You didn’t know what marriage was supposed to mean. You didn’t know what love was. It was silly, wasn’t it? Just a passing thought.

Still, something inside you—something deep and soft—wanted it to be real. Wanted Jack to be that person. Always.

Behind you, just a few feet away, Luke had been quietly swinging, his tiny legs kicking rhythmically, the chains of the swing creaking softly with each motion. It had been a peaceful moment for him, one of those simple, innocent afternoons where he felt content in his small world. But now, in the middle of your conversation with Jack, something shifted for him.

Luke had always been content in his little world, his world of swings and sunsets, of quiet afternoons that stretched on forever. There was something peaceful about the way he lived, the simplicity of his routine, and the certainty that his big brother, Jack, would always be there beside him. And you—you had always been a steady presence in that world too, a familiar face in the background, someone who would push him on the swing when he asked or cheer him on when he kicked the ball to the other side of the yard.

But today, something was different. The moment he stopped swinging—dragging his feet against the ground, the sudden halt so jarring that the swing swayed a little before coming to a stop—it was like the entire air around him had shifted. He didn’t quite understand why, but something in his chest felt tight, something unsettled bubbled up from deep inside him. His feet dragged through the dirt, and his small body seemed to freeze mid-motion. The world around him, so familiar and safe just moments ago, now felt too big, too loud, too heavy.

He didn’t quite know what it was that had made him stop, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from it. Something in the way you and Jack were talking made him feel like he didn’t quite fit anymore. At first, he hadn’t understood the words—you were talking about things he didn’t know about, like the future and marriage, things that didn’t make sense to him at all. But it wasn’t the words themselves that caught his attention. It was the way you were both acting, the way you were standing there, so close to each other, like there was something that didn’t include him. Like there was a secret between you two, something that made him feel like he was no longer part of the picture.

His hands, which had once been gripping the swing chains tightly, now hung limp at his sides. He could feel the stillness in his body, a strange weight settling in his chest. He looked at you both, his little body small in comparison, trying to make sense of the way you were standing together, the way your attention was so entirely focused on Jack’s words, as though he was no longer someone who mattered in the conversation. You were his world too. You had always been his world. But now… now he wasn’t so sure.

Luke didn’t understand what was happening. Not really. He didn’t know what it meant when Jack said, “We should get married when we’re older.” All he knew was that something had shifted in the air, something unspoken, and it made him feel small. He wasn’t sure why, but the words left an ache in his chest that didn’t quite make sense. The way Jack spoke about it—so casually, so easily—made Luke feel like he was standing in the middle of something big, something important that he couldn’t be a part of. And for the first time, he felt like an outsider in a world he had once felt so safe in.

His feet shuffled in the dirt, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, feeling the uncomfortable tension settle deeper in his little heart. His big eyes, full of curiosity and innocence, were fixed on you both. But there was no joy in them, no spark of the usual childlike wonder. Instead, there was a quiet sadness, an intensity that seemed far too old for a seven-year-old. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He didn’t understand why he felt left out, why his world suddenly felt off-balance.

The truth was, he had always looked up to Jack. Jack had been his hero, his older brother, the one who showed him the ropes, made him laugh, and taught him how to throw a ball. But now, in this moment, Luke could sense a shift—a shift that was happening between you and Jack, one that made him feel like there was a new kind of connection between you two that he wasn’t part of. Something unspoken, something important. And that feeling of not being included, not being part of whatever was happening, felt too big for him to carry.

His little shoulders hunched, trying to make himself smaller, trying to avoid the strange feelings crawling up his spine. His feet dragged a little more as he turned away, walking back toward the swings, but he didn’t swing this time. He didn’t know if he could swing anymore, not with the weight in his chest, not with the way his mind felt heavy and confused. So, instead, he just stood there, watching the two of you, trying to make sense of it all.

From his vantage point, everything seemed too complicated. The way you and Jack laughed, how you exchanged looks, the way your attention was so fully on him—it was all so much. It wasn’t like it had been before. It wasn’t like the afternoons where you would smile at him and push him on the swing, where everything felt simple and clear. Now, there was a distance that seemed impossible to bridge, even though he had no idea what it was. All he knew was that he wanted to be a part of it again. He wanted to be included in that world, but he didn’t know how to get back to it.

He glanced over his shoulder at you once more, his eyes full of that quiet sadness, and in that moment, it felt like you were so far away. As if you had crossed some invisible line, and now there was a space between you that couldn’t be closed. His heart hurt. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t even understand marriage, but he understood the feeling—the feeling of not being enough, of not being included in something that had once been his.

But then, just as quietly, he turned back toward the swing. It was all he could do, this small child with no words for the ache in his chest, with no way to express the confusion that was crawling through his mind. He started to push the swing gently with his foot, the creaking chains barely audible over the stillness that hung in the air. But even as he moved, there was a heaviness in him, a quiet realization that something had changed. And that change—whatever it was—made him feel like he was standing on the outside looking in.

He couldn’t understand everything, not yet. But he could feel it. He could feel the change. And that was enough to make him pause, to make him stop swinging, to make him turn away. Because even without the words, he knew that whatever was happening between you and Jack was something that didn’t quite fit with the world he had always known. And in that small, quiet moment, he realized something that made his chest ache all the more: he was no longer the center of that world.

The lake house had always felt like a second home to you. It wasn’t just the lake that made it special, or the house itself, but the feeling of being away from everything familiar, yet somehow closer to everyone that mattered. That first summer you were invited to spend there when you were eight was a turning point in your childhood, a mark in time where everything seemed to shift, like the beginning of a chapter in a story that you didn’t know was going to be so important.

It was the first day, when the sun was still high and the smell of fresh pine and saltwater clung to the air, that you felt the magic of it all. You and Jack had already wasted no time in rushing to the water, shoes abandoned on the dock as you dove in, laughing, splashing, racing to see who could swim the fastest to the floating platform in the middle of the lake.

“I’m going to beat you!” Jack called, swimming ahead, his strokes cutting through the water with ease.

You kicked harder, determined not to let him win. “You wish!” you shouted back, splashing water in his direction.

“Last one there is a rotten egg!” Jack laughed, kicking his legs to build speed, his eyes bright with excitement.

But you could feel the burn in your muscles, the fatigue setting in as the floating platform grew closer. Jack was always faster, always the one who would win the challenges you came up with, but that didn’t matter. He made it fun—he always did. Every game felt like a race, and every race felt like it was the most important thing in the world. You were in it together, the two of you, as if nothing else mattered.

You finally reached the platform, gasping for breath, and Jack was already standing there, grinning with triumph. “You’re getting slow,” he teased, splashing water in your face.

You wiped your eyes and smirked. “I let you win,” you said, playfully sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, sure,” Jack laughed, rolling his eyes. “But next time, I’m not going to make it so easy for you.”

You both floated there, letting the water gently rock you, eyes squinting up at the bright sky above. The feeling of the cool water against your skin was enough to make the heat of the summer day feel far away. But then, just as you were catching your breath, you noticed him.

Luke.

He was standing on the edge of the dock, his small frame barely noticeable as he gripped the edge tightly, watching you and Jack with wide eyes. He wasn’t in the water like you, wasn’t playing along with the games. He was just there, standing a little off to the side, as always.

You were so used to Jack’s loud presence, his infectious energy that drew everyone in, that it took a moment for you to really see Luke. He wasn’t as loud, wasn’t as reckless. He wasn’t the one making every day an adventure like Jack did. But there was something about the way he looked at you—something quiet and unspoken—that made your heart twinge. You were used to Luke tagging along, used to him always watching from the sidelines, but in that moment, it felt like something more. It felt like he was waiting for something that you couldn’t give him, at least not in the same way you gave Jack.

“Luke!” you called, waving at him from the water. “Come in, it’s awesome!”

Luke hesitated, his small fingers tightening on the dock as he glanced at Jack, who was still lounging on the platform. “I don’t know…” Luke mumbled, his voice quiet, unsure.

Jack perked up at the sound of his brother’s voice. “What’s the matter, Lukey? You scared?” He flashed a teasing grin, but there was a hint of challenge in his words.

Luke’s face scrunched, his little brows furrowing. “No,” he muttered, though there was no conviction behind it.

“Come on, Luke!” you called again, trying to sound enthusiastic. “It’s not that deep, and we’re having so much fun! You’ll love it!”

He bit his lip, clearly torn, before his shoulders sagged in defeat. “Okay. Fine.” He pulled off his sneakers and set them beside the dock, dipping one foot into the water cautiously.

You and Jack watched him for a moment, both of you already knowing that Luke wasn’t as confident as you were in the water. But after a few more encouraging shouts, Luke finally stepped in, wading slowly, his head barely above the water. You swam over to him, grinning.

“I knew you could do it!” you said, reaching out and offering him your hand. “Come on, we’re gonna race back to the dock.”

Luke took your hand, his grip tight but still tentative. He glanced at Jack, who had already started swimming back toward the shore. “I don’t think I can beat you two.”

“You don’t have to beat us,” you said with a shrug, smiling warmly. “Just swim with us. It’s more fun that way.”

He seemed to relax a little at your words, and for a few moments, the three of you swam together, splashing and laughing, the water cool against your skin. But even as you swam and played, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Luke wasn’t quite part of the same world as you and Jack. He was there, yes, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t as comfortable in the water, wasn’t as reckless in the way he approached everything. He seemed to linger at the edges of every game, a little hesitant to jump in fully, waiting for the perfect moment.

The sun soon set, leading the group of you to settle around the fire pit. As the flames crackled, casting their warm orange glow against the night, Luke couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease settling into his chest. He sat on the edge of the fire, a little further away from everyone else, trying to blend into the background. Jack’s ghost stories were always a source of amusement for everyone, but for Luke, they felt different. It wasn’t the ghosts themselves—he wasn’t afraid of that—but the way his older brother’s voice seemed to pull all the attention, to draw everyone in so effortlessly. And the way you—you—would laugh and play along, giving Jack that familiar, easy smile that made Luke’s heart flutter in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Luke had always been quiet, content with simple games and easy fun, where he didn’t have to think too much about anything. But lately, something had been shifting, and it seemed to revolve around you. It was as though something had clicked that afternoon a few weeks back—something small, but unmistakable—and now, as he sat on the edge of the firelight, his eyes kept drifting to you. Your laughter rang out as Jack continued with his stories. Every time Jack made a dramatic gesture or spoke in his spooky voice, you would laugh, your eyes lighting up with amusement, and Luke’s chest tightened with something he didn’t understand.

There was something in the way you looked at Jack—a warmth, a familiarity—that made Luke feel as though he was standing on the outside of a world he wasn’t allowed to be a part of. He wasn’t angry, exactly, just… distant. A seed of something had been planted in his chest, and it made him feel like he was growing up too fast, like everything around him was changing in ways he couldn’t keep up with.

As Jack’s voice dropped into that familiar eerie tone, Luke tried to focus on the flames. But the words Jack spoke carried a weight that Luke couldn’t shake.

“…and they say the ghost of the old man still haunts the lake,” Jack was saying, his voice dropping to an almost whisper, “waiting for someone to come too close to the water. They say if you stand on the dock at midnight, you can hear his footsteps behind you, dragging along the wood…”

You let out a little laugh and elbowed Jack in the side. “Jack, come on, that’s the oldest story in the book! You’re just trying to scare us.”

Jack grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction. “You don’t know that!” He leaned in closer, his voice lowering even further. “They say if you get too close to the edge, he’ll grab your ankle and pull you in, dragging you down into the depths of the lake, never to be seen again…”

You made a face, clearly pretending to be spooked. “Okay, okay, I’ll bite. But I’m still not scared.”

Luke found himself watching you intently as Jack wove his tale, his words spinning a web of eerie suspense. There was something in the way you played along—how you looked at Jack with that warm, teasing affection—that made something stir inside of him. But it was the way you glanced over at him in that moment, your eyes briefly catching his, that made his heart leap in his chest.

When you reached out and grabbed Luke’s arm during the spookiest part of the story, he froze. For a moment, he thought maybe it was just his imagination, but then he felt your fingers—warm and firm—wrap around his wrist. The touch was small, but it sent a rush of heat through him, making his heart race in his chest. He clenched his fingers instinctively, as if afraid the moment would slip away too quickly if he didn’t hold on. It felt like the whole world paused, and Luke couldn’t stop the flush that crept up his neck.

His fingers felt large and awkward beneath yours, but you didn’t pull away. And for that one brief moment, the ghost story, Jack’s teasing, everything else seemed to fade into the background. He was lost in the quiet of the space between you, the warmth of your hand on his wrist.

But then, just as quickly, you let go, laughing again, your fingers slipping from his. The moment passed so easily, so quickly, as if it had never happened at all. And Luke was left staring at his own hand, the lingering warmth still there, the ache in his chest growing.

Jack’s voice brought him back to the present. “And that’s when they say you’ll hear the screams of the old man, echoing across the water…”

Luke barely heard the rest. He didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he found himself once more focusing on you, sitting next to Jack, your laughter mixing with the sounds of the night.

The group moved down to the dock, and Luke stayed behind, slipping his feet into the cool water. The night was beautiful—deep and vast, the stars scattered above like jewels—but the beauty did little to soothe the tightness in his chest. He glanced over at you again, now lying on the dock next to Jack, both of you staring up at the stars. Jack was rambling on about his plans for the future, his voice excited, and you were listening so intently, leaning toward him. The way you looked at Jack, the way you gave him your full attention, made Luke feel even more distant.

Jack’s enthusiasm was too loud. His laughter rang too sharp against the silence, and Luke found himself retreating further into the stillness of the water, where he didn’t have to fight for attention. Where he could be just there, unnoticed, and just try to understand the confusion that swirled inside him.

It was Quinn who broke the silence, standing at the edge of the dock, his eyes catching Luke’s. The older boy had a way of knowing things without needing to be told. Quinn’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable, but Luke could sense the shift in him. The quiet understanding.

Luke quickly turned his eyes back to the water, not wanting Quinn to see, not wanting anyone to know how much he was changing inside. But Quinn had already seen it.

A small, almost knowing smile curled at Quinn’s lips. He nodded once, just a slight tilt of his head, as if acknowledging the unspoken shift that had started to settle in Luke’s heart.

Quinn didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. And in that moment, Luke felt something settle in his chest—something lighter, something like reassurance. He wasn’t sure if Quinn understood everything, but he felt a little less alone in it all.

But the night carried on, and Luke stayed at the edge of the world, staring at the stars, waiting for something to change, waiting for the gap between him and the rest of the world to close. He didn’t want to be left behind. Not anymore. But the ache inside him—stronger than before—was something he wasn’t sure how to share. He wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between the feeling he had and the words he couldn’t find.

For now, though, he stayed silent. He stayed at the edge of the dock, watching the night pass by, hoping that one day, it would all come together. That the ache in his chest would make sense, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to carry it alone anymore.

The summers always stretched on endlessly, the lake house becoming more familiar with each passing day, and yet every time you and Jack rushed down the dock or leapt off the platform, the excitement felt new. It was a rhythm you had come to depend on, like the pulse of the water beneath you, the steady pattern of life that had taken root here by the lake.

But despite the constant flow of games and adventures, there were moments when the world seemed to slow, when the noise of the days fell away, leaving only the stars, the soft rustle of the trees, and the quiet company of Luke.

One of those nights had arrived by the end of the week, when the air had turned cool, and the sky stretched out above you like an endless canvas. You and Jack had spent the entire day competing—arguing over who could jump from the highest point on the dock, who could hold their breath underwater the longest, who could run from the house to the dock in the shortest time. It was the same thing every summer, the same challenges, the same breathless laughter. But as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, fatigue settled into your limbs, and for once, you and Jack let yourselves slow down.

Jack had gone inside to grab some snacks, leaving you alone with Luke.

Luke had been sitting quietly at the edge of the dock, his legs crossed, his hands braced behind him as he leaned back to stare at the night sky. He wasn’t as loud as Jack, never the first one to dive into the chaos, but there was something about the way he existed in these moments—so quietly, so fully—that made it feel like he belonged here just as much as anyone else.

You stretched out beside him, letting your legs dangle off the dock, the cool wood pressing against your bare skin. The air smelled like pine and lake water, thick with the warmth of the day fading into the crispness of the evening. The kind of night that felt so still, like everything in the world had paused just to let you breathe.

Luke shifted slightly beside you, and you noticed how he always sat a little closer than usual, how his knee brushed against yours every now and then as if he couldn’t quite figure out the space between you. But he didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

Instead, you both just watched the stars, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

From Luke’s perspective, everything felt like it was slowing down.

The stars were so big tonight. They seemed to stretch on forever, like they were waiting for him to notice. He didn’t often sit this still, didn’t usually spend his time just watching the sky. There were rocks to skip and trees to climb, adventures to go on. But tonight, it felt different. Maybe it was the way the night air cooled his skin, the way the breeze felt like a promise, or the way you were beside him, the only sound your soft breaths mixing with the rustle of leaves in the trees.

He glanced at you. You looked so comfortable, so at ease, like the world was something you understood in a way he couldn’t quite grasp. Luke had always been quieter than Jack. He didn’t speak as easily, didn’t have the same kind of loud energy that Jack did. But in these moments with you, he didn’t feel like he needed to be anyone else. He didn’t need to act like Jack, didn’t have to say anything clever or jump into a race to prove himself.

Your quiet presence was enough.

But it was also something else. Something that made his stomach twist a little, made his thoughts turn into a confusing jumble. It was the way your knee brushed against his, how you never pulled away, how it felt like you had no problem being near him. You hadn’t noticed, of course. But Luke was aware. More aware than he should have been. His thoughts, his heart, they didn’t make sense. He had never been good at understanding what he was feeling.

He looked at the stars, trying to keep his mind occupied with something else. But there was a part of him that wanted to ask you questions. Wanted to talk to you, share something with you. But what could he say? What did he even feel?

“What’s that one?” he asked suddenly, pointing at a cluster of stars near the horizon.

You turned your head slightly, following his finger. “That’s Orion’s Belt,” you said, shifting to sit up a little. “Those three stars in a line. You can find them every year, and it’s said that they’re the hunter.”

Luke furrowed his brow. He wasn’t sure what the hunter meant. He didn’t know if he even understood the stars the way you did, but he wanted to know. Wanted to understand the world like you seemed to. “Why is he a hunter?” Luke asked, feeling the weight of the question in his chest, “What’s he hunting?”

You paused, and for a second, Luke thought maybe you hadn’t heard him, but then you responded, your voice soft, “I don’t know. I think it’s just something from old stories. Maybe he’s hunting for adventure or something big. He probably had dreams like we do.”

Luke stayed quiet for a moment, digesting your words. He watched the stars again, his mind turning over the idea. He wasn’t sure what adventure meant, but the idea of it—the feeling of searching for something more—caught his attention. He looked at you, your face lit by the soft glow of starlight, and he felt a sudden urge to ask another question. Not about stars this time, but something bigger.

“Do you think we’ll have adventures like that when we’re older?”

It was a question that felt too big, like a thought that had been floating in his chest for a while, and now it had finally found its way out. He wasn’t sure what made him ask, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt like he was standing on the edge of something—something he couldn’t quite see, but that made his heart beat faster. His voice was soft, quieter than usual. Almost uncertain. He wanted to know the answer, but he was also afraid of hearing it.

Luke’s question took you by surprise.

It was a simple question, really. But you could hear the quiet weight behind it, the way it lingered in the air, like Luke was asking for something more than just an answer about adventures. He was asking about the future. About his future. What kind of life he would have when things weren’t just about running around and having fun at the lake. What kind of person he would be when the world wasn’t as simple anymore.

You didn’t know. You hadn’t figured that out for yourself. You had spent so many summers here, growing up with Jack, and yet you couldn’t predict the next few years, let alone the kind of future Luke would have.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice soft as you turned back to the stars. “I think everyone has their own adventure. Maybe they’re different, but they’re all important. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Luke didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the way his eyes lingered on you. You didn’t know exactly what was going on inside him, but you could tell that something had shifted in him tonight. Something you hadn’t seen before. There was a stillness to him now, a quiet understanding, and it felt like it was building up inside him, like he had caught a glimpse of something bigger, and it was all tangled up in that simple question.

And when you glanced at him, he wasn’t just looking at you. He was hearing you, too. His gaze was intense, thoughtful, and for a moment, it made your heart beat a little faster. You didn’t know what it meant. But it felt important.

After a while, Jack came back with a bag of chips, shoving the screen door open with a loud bang, breaking the quiet spell between you and Luke. The night faded back into its usual rhythm—Jack talking too loud, the crinkle of plastic as he ripped open the bag, the familiar chaos of another summer night at the lake.

But you couldn’t help noticing how Luke stayed close to you after that.

How he sat just a little closer than before, how he lingered beside you when Jack wasn’t looking, how he seemed to seek out your presence in little, unspoken ways. You didn’t know what it meant, but it felt different.

And even though you didn’t understand it yet, something about it felt like a beginning. Something you couldn’t quite name, but something you were starting to notice more each day.

For now, the night would go on, and Jack would fill it with his usual boisterous energy. But there was a shift, a quiet shift in Luke, that made you feel like the summer was moving forward in a way you hadn’t expected. The lake, the stars, the nights spent in quiet company—this was all part of it, part of the change that was unfolding slowly, one conversation, one glance at a time.

The next day dawned bright and cloudless, the kind of summer morning where the air was already thick with warmth, the sun glittering off the water like a thousand tiny diamonds. The lake was calm, barely a ripple disturbing its glassy surface, and the excitement buzzing between you and the boys was almost tangible.

Jack, as expected, was already hyped up, practically bouncing on the dock as he grabbed his paddle. His energy was endless, like he was constantly running on some invisible fuel that no one else could match. He turned to you and Luke, his grin wide and mischievous. “Alright,” he announced, puffing out his chest like a true competitor, “first one to the floating platform and back wins. No cheating.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re just saying that because you’re the biggest cheater here.”

Jack gasped in mock offense. “Me? A cheater? Please. I’m just naturally faster than you.”

Luke, who had been kneeling beside his canoe, adjusting his paddle, snorted. “You always cheat, Jack. You just call it strategy.”

Jack waggled his eyebrows. “It’s not my fault I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re not smarter,” Luke shot back. “You’re just reckless.”

Jack only grinned wider, already lowering himself into his canoe. “Same thing.”

With that, he was off, shoving away from the dock with an exaggerated push, his paddle slicing through the water in wild, hurried strokes. You barely had time to climb into your own canoe before Jack was halfway across the lake, moving with all the grace of a bull charging forward.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, grabbing your paddle and pushing off.

Luke, still on the dock, rolled his eyes before easing himself into his canoe, far less rushed than either of you. You could see the difference instantly—where Jack was all force and chaos, Luke moved carefully, steadily. His strokes were slower but more controlled, his canoe gliding through the water rather than thrashing against it.

You tried to catch up with Jack, pushing yourself forward, your arms already burning from the effort. The lake was bigger than it seemed from the shore, and the floating platform in the middle felt impossibly far away. Water splashed against your arms as you paddled harder, your breath coming in short, determined huffs. Jack was still ahead, but he wasn’t as smooth as he thought—his frantic paddling caused his canoe to veer slightly off course every now and then, forcing him to correct himself.

“You’re wasting energy!” you called out, laughing as you gained on him.

Jack only grinned over his shoulder. “Yeah, but I’m still winning!”

It wasn’t until you reached the platform that you let yourself rest, your canoe bumping gently against the side of the wooden float. Jack was already there, panting slightly but triumphant. He smacked his hand against the platform dramatically, as if claiming victory. “Boom. Winner.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Race isn’t over yet.”

Jack laughed, already pushing his canoe back toward the shore. “Better hurry up then!”

You were about to follow when you glanced back, realizing that Luke was still a little ways behind. He wasn’t struggling—far from it—but he wasn’t racing either. His strokes remained patient, steady, as if he wasn’t concerned about beating anyone. He was simply moving, letting the water carry him as much as he carried himself.

Something about that made you pause. Jack had already disappeared ahead, but suddenly, winning didn’t seem as important anymore. Instead of rushing after him, you turned your canoe slightly, slowing your strokes to match Luke’s pace.

He glanced up at you, surprised. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

You shrugged, resting your paddle across your lap for a moment. “I don’t mind.”

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t say anything right away, but you could tell he appreciated it. The two of you paddled side by side, the sounds of the water lapping gently against the canoes filling the quiet between you.

Luke hesitated, then spoke, his voice softer than before. “Jack always makes everything a competition.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a laugh, shaking your head. “He doesn’t really know how to do things any other way.”

Luke glanced at you, thoughtful. “Do you like that?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

Luke’s paddle skimmed the surface of the water, creating small ripples. “Always having to race. Having everything be about winning.”

You exhaled, considering. With Jack, it had always been like that—fast-paced, wild, a constant need to prove something. And it was fun, most of the time. But there was something different about the way you were moving now, next to Luke, with no urgency, no need to rush.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing toward the shore where Jack was already climbing onto the dock, victorious. “I guess sometimes it’s nice to just—be.”

Luke nodded, his gaze fixed on the water. “Yeah.”

Neither of you spoke for a while after that, just paddling together in a comfortable silence. The sun was higher in the sky now, reflecting golden streaks onto the lake’s surface. You let yourself get lost in the rhythm of it, the slow, unhurried way Luke moved, how it felt like he wasn’t trying to chase anything—just experiencing it as it came.

By the time you finally reached the shore, Jack was waiting, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. “What took you guys so long?”

You shrugged, stepping out of the canoe and stretching your arms. “We were enjoying the view.”

Jack scoffed, but Luke just smiled knowingly. You caught the small look he gave you—like he understood something you hadn’t fully realized yet. And in that moment, standing there on the dock with the water dripping from your fingertips and the summer sun warming your skin, you realized that maybe, just maybe, Luke had the right idea all along.

The rainy days at the lake house had a magic of their own. They brought with them the soft patter of raindrops against the windows, the smell of damp earth rising from the porch, and the hum of restless energy that filled the house as you all searched for ways to entertain yourselves. The moment the first drops fell, signaling that you’d be stuck inside for the day, Jack would immediately declare, “Knee hockey tournament. Living room. Right now.”

It was a tradition. The coffee table was shoved to the side, pillows lined the edges of the room as makeshift boards, and everyone knew the stakes were high. Jack, naturally, was the most competitive, his grin practically splitting his face as he grabbed a mini stick and tossed you another. “Dream team, back again,” he announced, bumping his shoulder against yours. You caught the stick easily, already grinning. You and Jack were always the duo to beat, your quick reflexes and synchronized movement making you nearly unstoppable.

Quinn, ever the strategist, took his time choosing his teammate, tapping his chin dramatically before slinging an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “I’ll take Luke,” he said, grinning as if he knew something you didn’t.

Luke shifted beside him, his expression unreadable at first, but there was something in his eyes—something determined, something that almost looked like anticipation. He didn’t protest.

Jack just scoffed. “Good luck,” he teased, twirling his stick between his fingers. “You’ll need it.”

The first game was fast-paced, the sound of the plastic ball slapping against the hardwood floor echoing through the house. Jack and you worked in tandem, passing quickly, faking each other out, weaving through the small space with an ease that only came from years of playing together. Every goal you scored, Jack celebrated like it was a Stanley Cup game, yelling dramatically and sliding across the floor on his knees.

But Luke and Quinn weren’t easy to beat.

Luke wasn’t as fast as Jack, and he didn’t have Quinn’s sharp strategic mind, but he had something else—a quiet patience, a precision in the way he moved. He watched the plays unfold, predicting your movements, using his body and stick to block your best shots. He wasn’t reckless like Jack, wasn’t rushing headfirst into every play. Instead, he was steady, deliberate, thinking two steps ahead.

At first, you barely noticed. You were too caught up in the thrill of the game, too focused on scoring. But then, every time you tried to cut around him, he was just… there. Anticipating. Blocking. Smirking a little when he managed to steal the ball from you.

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “You’re getting good at this, Lukey.”

He shrugged, but there was something teasing in the tilt of his lips. “Maybe I’ve always been good. You just never noticed.”

That threw you off more than it should have.

Jack groaned dramatically, cutting between you. “Stop flirting and play the game!”

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “We’re not—”

But Luke just grinned, turning back to the game as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just sent your mind into a tailspin.

As the summers passed, knee hockey remained a staple of the rainy days, but something about those moments with Luke started to shift. It wasn’t just the way he played anymore—it was the way he was. The way he carried himself. He was taller now, his movements more confident. He didn’t hesitate as much, didn’t linger in Jack’s shadow like he used to.

And then there were the moments—small, fleeting, but impossible to ignore.

Like when you had just swum back to the dock one afternoon, breathless from racing Jack across the lake, your arms aching from the effort. Jack had already hoisted himself up, shaking out his wet hair like a dog before flopping onto his back. You reached for the dock’s edge, ready to pull yourself up when suddenly, there was Luke.

He was crouched at the edge, one hand outstretched toward you. His fingers curled slightly in a silent offer.

You hesitated for just a second before reaching up. His hand was warm despite the coolness of the water, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you up. For a moment, your fingers lingered together, your skin slick with water, your breath caught in your throat for reasons you didn’t quite understand.

And then, just as quickly as it had happened, Luke cleared his throat, dropping his gaze as he let go, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

You swallowed, trying to shake off whatever that had been.

Jack, oblivious as always, sat up, running a hand through his damp hair. “C’mon, let’s go again. Best two out of three.”

But Luke was still looking at you—like he knew something had shifted.

And maybe… maybe you did too.

Some nights, after the chaos of the day had settled and the others had gone inside, you and Luke found yourselves lying on the dock, staring up at the stars. It was never planned, never something you spoke about beforehand—it just happened.

Jack was usually the one who exhausted himself first, retreating inside after a long day of swimming and competing. Quinn would follow soon after, leaving you and Luke behind in the quiet lull of the night, the water gently lapping against the dock.

Luke lay beside you, arms folded behind his head, his gaze fixed on the sky. “Do you think it’s weird that everything looks so big at night?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

You turned your head slightly to look at him. “Big?”

“Yeah,” he continued, his brows knitting together in thought. “Like, during the day, everything feels… normal. But at night, when you look up, it’s like—you realize how small you are.”

You stared up at the stars, the vast, endless expanse of them. “I guess so,” you murmured. “But I think that’s kind of nice. Like, it makes everything else—everything that feels too big—seem smaller.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, as if letting your words settle. Then, softly, “Yeah. I like that.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was peaceful, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words.

Then, in a softer voice, Luke asked, “Do you ever think about what happens after this?”

You turned your head to look at him again, surprised by the question. “After what?”

“After all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the lake, at the sky. “After we grow up.”

You exhaled, staring up at the stars again. “Sometimes. But I try not to think about it too much. I like it here. I like now.”

Luke nodded slowly, as if he understood. And maybe he did. Maybe he felt the same.

The summers were changing. You were changing. And Luke wasn’t just Jack’s little brother anymore. He was something else—someone else. Though your heart still truly belonged to his older brother, no matter how hard Luke tried.

At sixteen, Jack told you after practice one afternoon, back home, when summer was still weeks away.

You had stayed late at the rink, the way you always did, dragging out the minutes after his practice because neither of you were ever in a hurry to leave. The ice had already been cleaned, the faint smell of Zamboni fumes still lingering in the air, and most of his teammates had already headed out. But Jack had slung an arm around your shoulders and said, “One more round,” and you never could say no to him.

So you skated circles around each other for another twenty minutes, taking lazy shots on goal, passing the puck back and forth without speaking. It was comfortable, easy. The way it had always been.

And then, after you finally dragged yourselves off the ice, you sat together outside the rink, letting the cool spring breeze dry the sweat still clinging to your skin. His hockey bag was tossed carelessly beside him, skates still half-laced like he hadn’t quite decided if he was done for the day. The sun was warm against your face, the kind of warmth that made the air feel electric, buzzing with the quiet anticipation of summer.

Jack leaned back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him, and kicked absently at a dandelion sprouting between the cracks in the pavement. His voice was casual, easy, when he said it.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve got a girlfriend now.”

It took a second for the words to sink in.

You had been in the middle of reaching for your water bottle, fingers curling around the plastic, when the sentence hit you like a slap.

“What?”

Jack turned his head toward you, squinting against the sun, his mouth curling into that familiar lopsided grin. “Yeah. Alyssa. You know her, right? She’s in our chem class.”

You did know her.

She was blonde, pretty, and effortlessly cool—the kind of girl who seemed to float through life with an ease you had never quite mastered. The kind of girl who made sense for Jack, in a way you suddenly felt like you didn’t.

“Oh,” you said, forcing your expression into something neutral, something that wouldn’t betray the way your stomach had twisted into a knot. “That’s… cool.”

Jack’s grin widened, oblivious to the way your voice had faltered. “Yeah, she’s awesome. You’ll love her.”

You nodded, pretending to be interested, pretending that the sudden ache in your chest was nothing more than an odd reaction to the heat.

And then, as if the news itself hadn’t been enough, he added, “She’s coming to the lake house this summer.”

You felt like the ground had been yanked out from under you.

The lake house.

Your lake house.

The place that had always been yours—yours and Jack’s, yours and the Hughes’, yours and the memories you had built there for nearly a decade.

You swallowed, forcing your expression to stay neutral. “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Jack didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. He just stretched his arms over his head, looking out at the parking lot like this was just another conversation, just another day. “It’s gonna be great. She’s never been, so I’ll need you to help me show her around.”

You wanted to tell him no.

You wanted to tell him she didn’t belong there, that the lake house wasn’t just some place—it was home. It was the sound of Jack’s laughter echoing off the water, the endless knee hockey battles on rainy days, the constellations you used to trace in the sky when the two of you were kids, whispering dreams about the future.

It wasn’t supposed to change.

But instead, you just nodded.

“Yeah,” you said, the word barely making it past the lump in your throat. “It’ll be fun.”

Jack grinned, already moving on, already pulling out his phone to check his messages, like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

And just like that, everything shifted.

The first night at the lake house, you couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t Alyssa’s fault. Not really.

She was nice in the effortless way that pretty girls always seemed to be. She laughed at Jack’s jokes, tucked herself easily into the spaces that had once been yours, fit in with the family like she had always belonged. She had only been here for a few hours, and yet somehow, she already knew which cabinet the cereal was in, already had Quinn rolling his eyes at one of Jack’s ridiculous stories, already knew exactly how to lean into Jack’s side at the dinner table like she had always been the one sitting next to him.

Like that seat had never been yours to begin with.

Maybe it never was.

Maybe you were the one who had been holding onto something that had never really belonged to you.

So you smiled. You nodded when she spoke to you, laughed when you were supposed to, played the role of best friend because that’s all you had ever been. And if your fingers curled a little too tightly around the edge of the table, if your stomach twisted every time Jack whispered something into her ear, if the food on your plate went mostly untouched—no one noticed.

Or at least, you thought they didn’t.

The house settled into a comfortable quiet as the night stretched on, the familiar creaks of the wooden floors, the distant hum of crickets beyond the porch screens. Jack and Alyssa had disappeared upstairs together after dinner, their laughter trailing up the staircase, and you had felt something inside of you unravel.

So you had slipped out onto the porch, closing the door quietly behind you, needing air, needing space, needing something to dull the ache in your chest.

The lake stretched out before you, dark and endless, the water lapping gently against the dock. It should have been comforting. It always had been before. But tonight, it felt hollow.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, pressing your fingers into your ribs as if that would somehow keep the hurt from spilling out.

The door creaked open behind you.

You didn’t turn, but you knew who it was before he even spoke.

Luke.

He was always the one who lingered. The one who noticed things even when you tried to hide them.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushed against yours, his body warm against the cool night air. He didn’t try to fill the silence, didn’t try to force words where they didn’t belong.

And for some reason, that was what undid you.

The tears came before you could stop them, silent at first, then harder, faster, your shoulders shaking as you tried to hold it in, tried to pretend you weren’t breaking apart right there on the porch.

Luke let out a quiet breath, barely audible over the sound of the water. And then, without hesitation, he reached out, pulling you into him.

You didn’t resist.

You buried your face against his chest, gripping fistfuls of his sweatshirt like it was the only thing keeping you from shattering completely.

He was warm. Solid. Safe.

His arms tightened around you, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head as he let you sob into him, let you break apart without saying a word.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that—curled into Luke’s chest, the fabric of his sweatshirt damp beneath your cheek, your fingers still twisted into the material like you were afraid to let go. But Luke never moved. Never let go. He just held you like he had been waiting to, like he had always known this moment would come.

And maybe it was because you were crying too hard, or maybe it was because your mind was too clouded with grief for something you had never really had—but you didn’t hear it.

You didn’t hear the way Luke exhaled shakily, like he was holding back something too big to say aloud.

You didn’t hear the quiet, broken words he finally let slip.

“If only I were him.”

But Quinn did.

He had been walking past on his way to the kitchen, pausing at the doorway when he saw the two of you.

His expression was unreadable as he stood there, watching the way Luke held you, the way his fingers curled ever so slightly into the fabric of your sweatshirt, the way he looked at you.

And then, without a word, Quinn turned and walked away.

You had eventually left him there.

Slipped out of his arms, whispered a quiet ‘thank you’, and disappeared back into the house before he could stop you. Before he could say anything—before he could ask you to stay.

Luke had let you go, even though everything in him had wanted to hold on just a little longer. Just long enough to keep you close, to keep you from slipping through his fingers like water, like you always did.

Now, the dock was empty except for him.

But the ghost of you remained.

The warmth of you still clung to his sweatshirt, the scent of lake water and the faintest hint of whatever soap you used lingering in the fabric. The weight of you had pressed into his side, curled into his chest as you cried, and even though you were gone, he still felt you there.

Luke sat motionless, staring out at the water, his breath slow and uneven. The lake stretched out in front of him, vast and endless, its surface dark except for where the moonlight painted streaks of silver. It was quiet now—no laughter, no voices drifting from the house, just the steady lapping of the water against the dock, the occasional rustling of the trees in the breeze.

He should have gone inside.

Should have shaken it off, pretended like nothing had happened. Like holding you, feeling you tremble against him, hadn’t carved something deep into his chest. Like it hadn’t made him ache in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from.

But he couldn’t move.

Because the truth sat too heavy in his bones, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

Because the words had already slipped past his lips.

Soft, quiet, spoken to no one but the night itself.

‘If only I were him.’

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a hand down his face, as if he could erase the thought from his mind, as if he could shove it back down into the part of himself that he had spent years trying to ignore.

But it was too late.

Because the words were out there now, hanging in the cool night air, impossible to take back.

He wished he were Jack.

He wished, just for a second, that he had been born in a different place, with a different name, with a different place in your heart.

Because then maybe—just maybe—you would have seen him.

Not as Jack’s little brother.

Not as a second choice.

Not as the boy who was always just a little too young, a little too quiet, a little too easy to overlook.

But as someone.

As yours.

Luke let out a slow breath, staring down at his hands. His fingers curled into his sweatshirt—your sweatshirt now, because he knew you’d probably stolen it from Jack’s room at some point. His grip tightened, like if he held on tight enough, he could still feel you there.

But it didn’t matter.

Because you hadn’t heard him.

You hadn’t heard the quiet confession, the words that had been sitting in his chest for longer than he wanted to admit.

And even if you had…

You still wouldn’t have understood what they meant.

But Quinn had heard.

Luke heard the footsteps before he saw him.

The quiet creak of the old wooden boards, the familiar rhythm of Quinn’s stride—it was enough to tell him he wasn’t alone anymore. But he didn’t look up. He just kept his gaze locked on the water, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together like he could wring the frustration from his bones.

Quinn didn’t speak as he lowered himself onto the dock beside him, stretching his legs out in front of him, their shoulders barely brushing. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

The night was still, the lake stretching out before them, dark and endless. The moon carved a silver path across its surface, shimmering in the gentle ripple of the waves. It should have been peaceful. It had always been peaceful before. But now, the silence only seemed to amplify the storm raging in Luke’s chest.

He stared at the water, trying to steady himself, trying to ignore the way his pulse still hadn’t settled since you had been in his arms, since your tears had soaked into his sweatshirt, since you had disappeared inside without ever hearing what he had said, the words still sitting bitter on his tongue.

Quinn exhaled beside him, breaking the quiet with a sigh that felt heavier than it should have. And then, finally, he spoke.

“You love her.”

Not a question. Just fact.

Luke let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking his head. His grip on his hands tightened, knuckles white in the moonlight. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Quinn’s voice was softer this time, but there was something firm underneath it, something unyielding. “You should tell her.”

Luke scoffed, shaking his head. His throat burned, the weight of it all pressing down on him. “She loves Jack.”

The words came out sharp, clipped. He hadn’t meant them to. But saying them aloud made them feel heavier, like they held more truth than they should.

Quinn didn’t say anything for a long time.

The air between them was thick with something unspoken, something impossible to name. Luke could hear everything—the soft rustling of the trees, the distant hum of crickets, the steady lapping of the lake against the dock. It all felt too loud, too sharp against the quiet ache settling in his chest.

And then, finally, Quinn broke the silence.

“She thinks she does.” His voice was careful, measured. “But she’s never even thought about you as an option.”

The words hit Luke harder than he expected.

Because they were true.

You had never looked at him the way you looked at Jack. Never let your gaze linger. Never let your fingers brush his just to feel the contact. Never let yourself wonder if maybe—just maybe—he could be someone to you.

Because to you, there was only ever Jack.

Luke clenched his jaw, his chest tight, his stomach twisting itself into knots. His fists curled against his knees, nails biting into his palms.

“Because I was born in the wrong place,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “If I were Jack…”

But Quinn cut him off before he could finish.

“But you’re not Jack.” His voice was quiet, steady, but there was something firm beneath it, something final. “And maybe that’s a good thing.”

Luke swallowed hard, staring out at the water, at the reflection of the stars shimmering in the dark.

But he wasn’t sure Quinn was right.

Because if being himself meant always being second, always being the afterthought, always sitting alone on this damn dock while you smiled at someone else—then he wasn’t sure he wanted to be Luke at all.

Luke never brought it up. And neither did you.

The night you had cried into his chest, the way his arms had wrapped around you so tightly—like he could somehow hold you together—it was never mentioned again. It became one of those moments that lived in the quiet spaces between you, something fragile and unspoken.

But it lingered.

He felt it every time you sat at the dinner table, smiling when you were supposed to, nodding along as Alyssa laughed at something Jack said. Every time your fingers curled around the edge of your glass just a little too tightly. Every time your eyes drifted toward them—toward Jack and the girl at his side—and took on that faraway look, glassy and unreadable.

Luke knew you were hurting.

And God, he hated it.

But there was nothing he could do.

Because even though he wanted to reach across the space between you, to shake you, to tell you that Jack wasn’t the only person in the world worth loving—you didn’t see it.

You didn’t see him.

And Luke didn’t know which was worse: the fact that you were in love with Jack or the fact that you didn’t even realize how much Luke loved you.

So he stayed quiet.

He watched as the summer stretched on, as you smiled when you were supposed to, as you forced yourself to be okay. And maybe to everyone else, it worked. Maybe Jack and Alyssa and even Quinn believed the act.

But Luke didn’t.

He saw how your hands clenched in your lap every time Jack threw an arm around Alyssa’s shoulders. He saw the way your throat tightened when she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He saw the way you looked away, always just a second too late, always after the damage had already been done.

And it killed him.

Because you deserved more than this—more than spending the summer pretending you were fine, pretending your heart wasn’t breaking every time Jack smiled at someone who wasn’t you.

Luke wanted to tell you that.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just kept sitting beside you on the dock, kept making quiet jokes when the house got too loud, kept handing you a marshmallow before you even had to ask for one by the fire. Kept being there, in the only way you would let him be.

And maybe that wasn’t enough.

But it was all he had.

The first time you missed the trip to the lake house, it seemed trivial. Just a weekend, right? You could make up some reason—something simple that wouldn’t raise suspicions. Family obligations, work commitments, even the classic “I’ve got a lot of homework” excuse would be enough. After all, you’d been going to the lake house for as long as you could remember. It had become a part of you, woven into the fabric of your summers, a backdrop to countless memories with Jack, Luke, and Quinn. A weekend away wouldn’t change anything, right?

But it did.

You could feel it the moment you hung up the phone with Jack. The weight in your chest, heavy and undeniable. You thought you could escape the feeling, put it out of your mind, but it lingered in the corners of your thoughts. The lake house wasn’t just a place; it was a memory, a comfort, and now it was a reminder of everything you were trying to avoid.

You told yourself it would just be one weekend. That you were just taking a break. You convinced yourself it was temporary. You were busy, that’s all. There would be another time. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t that simple. There was something more, something unspoken between you and the others that you didn’t know how to confront. It had been brewing for weeks now, something under the surface, something you couldn’t put into words.

When Jack called, you almost dreaded hearing his voice. It was familiar, comforting, but also the thing that felt like a weight around your neck. The guilt hit you all over again, curling deep in your stomach.

“Hey, are you coming this weekend?” Jack’s voice was casual, but there was an edge of expectation underneath it. “We’ll be at the lake house, like always.”

You could hear the unspoken promise in his tone—this is what we always do. And you hated yourself for it. Hated that you couldn’t just say yes, that you couldn’t be there like you always were. Your hand gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles white, as your mind raced for an answer.

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to slip back into that familiar rhythm, to fall into the comfort of the lake house and the people who filled it. You wanted to be with Jack and Quinn, and especially Luke, but the thought of seeing them all together made your chest tighten. You weren’t ready. Not yet. You didn’t know how to face them, how to face yourself in that space. You couldn’t bear to see their faces, not when you had so much left unsaid, so much you hadn’t dealt with.

“I… I can’t, Jack,” you said, your voice faltering just slightly as you tried to keep the lie steady. “I’ve got work.” The words sounded hollow, even to your own ears, and the guilt twisted in your gut. “Maybe next time.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. You could almost hear him processing, trying to understand, but the confusion lingered there in the quiet. You hated that it was so easy to lie, that the words came so naturally. You hadn’t been ready to deal with what was really going on inside you, and so you just pushed it all down.

Jack sighed, a sound that carried a touch of disappointment, but also something more—something patient. He always knew how to give you space when you needed it, even when it hurt him. “Alright,” he said softly, his tone still holding that hint of sadness. “Well, we’ll miss you. But I get it. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

You promised him you wouldn’t, but deep down, you knew you were lying. You didn’t know when you’d go back, or if you would. And as soon as you hung up the phone, you knew the distance between you and the lake house, between you and them, was widening.

The next weekend came, and you stayed home again. And the one after that. And then it became easier—slipping out of the routine, making new excuses, burying yourself in other things so that you wouldn’t have to think about it. It was easier to hide behind a wall of work and other commitments than to face the truth.

And what was the truth? That you weren’t ready. Not for the lake house, not for Jack and Alyssa, not for Luke. It was easier this way, wasn’t it? To stay away. To pretend like everything was fine, like you didn’t feel the aching pull between what was and what could never be again.

The absence didn’t go unnoticed, though. Not by Jack, and certainly not by Luke.

Jack didn’t say much. Maybe he didn’t want to push you too hard. You were always good at deflecting, at making light of things, and maybe that’s what Jack saw in you—a person who was always willing to pull herself together, even when it didn’t make sense. But Luke? Luke noticed everything. Every little shift, every subtle change. And when you weren’t there, when you stopped showing up, it was like a part of him was missing too.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you knew it. The last time you’d crossed paths had been so fleeting—just a few minutes at the grocery store, the briefest exchange of glances. He’d smiled at you, but it wasn’t the smile you remembered. It was distant, guarded, like he was afraid to get too close. And maybe he was. You were afraid too.

It wasn’t just that Luke noticed your absence—it was the weight of what was left unsaid between you, the quiet space that had grown larger with every missed trip. Every time you saw him from a distance, there was something in his eyes that pulled at you, something unspoken that you couldn’t ignore, but also couldn’t face. You had known him longer than anyone else, and yet now, he was the one you couldn’t quite reach.

The weeks stretched on, and the distance between you and the lake house deepened. It wasn’t just the physical distance—it was the emotional gap that had started to separate you from Jack, from Luke, from everything you had once known.

And Luke? Luke was the hardest part of all. Because no matter how hard you tried to keep your distance, no matter how many excuses you made, you couldn’t escape the way your heart twisted whenever you thought of him. You couldn’t escape the way you missed him—missed the way he’d been there for you, the way his presence had felt like home. It was easier to pretend, to tell yourself that you were just busy, but you knew the truth: you were avoiding him. You were avoiding everything, and truly you didn’t understand why.

The silence between you and the lake house grew louder with each passing day. And somehow, you felt yourself drifting further away—not just from the lake house, but from everyone you once considered family. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Because if you did, if you allowed yourself to face them, then you’d have to face everything you were running from. And that was the hardest part of all.

The week after the summer had ended and you missed yet another lake house trip, Quinn found you. He hadn’t been looking for you exactly. He wasn’t sure what had driven him to come, but the truth was he knew something was wrong. You’d stopped coming, and it was starting to weigh on him. The silence between your absence and Luke’s growing frustration wasn’t something Quinn could ignore, even though Luke never said a word about it. But Quinn could feel it—could feel how the absence of you was slowly becoming too heavy for all of them to carry.

Quinn had no clear plan as he stood outside your door, his knuckles hovering just above the wood, unsure of whether he should knock or simply leave. The house had always been a place of comfort, a home that felt like his, but today, it seemed different. Quiet in a way that made his chest tighten, the sounds of your laughter no longer filling the corners. The soft shuffle of your footsteps, the casual conversations you’d had over the years—those sounds were missing, and in their place was a hollow emptiness that Quinn could almost taste.

You answered the door slowly, and for a moment, he wondered if you had been expecting someone else. Your eyes were too tired, too distant, and there was something about the way you stood there, half hiding behind the door, that made him feel as though you were trying to shield yourself from something—or maybe from him. He couldn’t quite tell.

He didn’t want to make things worse. He wasn’t sure how much to push, how much you’d be willing to share. The hesitation in his step betrayed his uncertainty, but when you met his gaze, he saw something that twisted in his chest: something sad and lost.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, the words hanging in the air between you.

You gave a small smile, but it was strained, and Quinn could see right through it. He didn’t believe you for a second.

“Yeah, just… busy with school and everything. You know how it is.” You shrugged, but the motion felt hollow, and your eyes never quite met his.

Quinn nodded, but he knew it wasn’t the whole story. He could feel it—could feel how your words didn’t match what was in your eyes.

“You haven’t been around the lake house much, though,” Quinn ventured, his voice calm but holding a trace of concern that you couldn’t miss.

You shifted slightly, the space between you both feeling thicker than it should. “I’ve just got a lot going on.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t the real reason, not by a long shot. “Really? Because Jack misses you. We all miss you.”

At that, he saw it—the brief flicker in your eyes. It was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. Hurt. Regret. Whatever it was, it made Quinn’s chest ache, his heartbeat a little heavier. There was something more to this than you were letting on, something that made him wonder if you even saw how much everyone else was hurting.

A long silence stretched out between you both, a quiet that felt like it would swallow him whole. The distance was painful. It had always been easy between you and him—friendly, easygoing. But this, this was something different. Something that Quinn didn’t know how to fix, but something he couldn’t leave unresolved either.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, Quinn. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

The words cut through the air, sharp and heavy, and Quinn’s heart sank. He had always known you as part of the rhythm of the lake house, the one constant they could count on. And now, you were drifting away, and he had no idea how to pull you back in.

“What do you mean?” Quinn asked, trying to keep his voice steady. It wasn’t like you to avoid questions like this, to shy away from the truth.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, a flicker of pain passing over your features before you spoke again. “Everything’s changed. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Maybe it’s not about fixing it,” Quinn said, his voice gentle but firm. “Maybe you don’t need to fix anything. Just… come back. Come back to the lake house. We miss you.”

You shook your head slightly, stepping back from the door, as if you were trying to distance yourself from him, from everyone else. “I can’t. It’s too hard.”

Quinn’s stomach twisted with the weight of your words. It wasn’t just that you were avoiding the lake house—it was that you had withdrawn from everything. From everyone. And that scared him more than he let on.

“It’s not about being perfect,” Quinn said, his voice quiet now. “We’re all just… trying to figure things out.” He took a step closer, his eyes softening as he met your gaze. “We just need you to be there. We all do.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time, but Quinn could feel how your breath quickened, how the weight of what he was saying started to sink in.

“I don’t belong there anymore,” you murmured, your voice cracking on the last word.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, a sharp twist of realization. It wasn’t just about the lake house. It was about you, about how you had come to see yourself outside of all of them, outside of the family you’d once been a part of. And that hurt. It hurt more than he was prepared for.

“Of course, you belong there,” Quinn said, his voice breaking a little. “You always have.”

But you didn’t believe it, did you? Quinn could see it in your eyes—the sadness that seemed to swirl just below the surface, a darkness he couldn’t reach. He felt helpless in a way he never had before. He didn’t know how to make it right, how to bring you back to them.

“I miss you at the lake house,” he admitted, his voice softer now, raw with emotion. “We all do. Jack misses you. Luke misses you more than you know.”

Your chest tightened at that, the truth of his words cutting through your defenses. You knew Luke missed you. In fact, it was one of the hardest things to face—that the one person you didn’t know how to deal with, the one person you couldn’t bring yourself to confront, was the one who missed you most.

“Maybe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “but it doesn’t matter. Things are different now.”

Quinn studied you for a long time, his gaze intense and unwavering. You wanted to look away, to shut him out, but his eyes held you captive. You saw it then—the rawness, the vulnerability, the care that Quinn had never been one to show so openly.

“I know you think it’s different,” Quinn said quietly, “but you’re wrong. Things haven’t changed as much as you think. You’re still part of this family. You always will be.”

And in that moment, with those words hanging in the air between you both, you could feel something shifting. You didn’t know if it would be enough to bring you back to the lake house, back to them, but you could feel it in your bones: the connection, the love, the deep-rooted truth that no matter how far you pulled away, they would always be there, waiting.

The next few weeks were a blur. Jack kept calling, trying to bridge the gap, and you kept finding reasons to avoid his calls. Work. Homework. Other commitments. It never seemed to stop, and every time you answered with another excuse, the guilt only piled higher.

But Luke… you hadn’t seen Luke in weeks. And that absence? That ache in your chest that you just couldn’t explain when you thought about him? It was always there, quietly gnawing at you, reminding you of what you were running from.

Then, one afternoon, Jack showed up at your door.

His presence was like a weight, a storm that had been gathering, ready to break. Standing there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something quieter, more serious. The frustration in his eyes was unmistakable, and his voice, when he spoke, was softer than it had ever been.

“I don’t get it,” Jack said, his words hanging between you both. “What happened? Why are you pulling away?”

You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat. There was no easy way to answer, no simple excuse you could give to make it go away. “I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… need space.”

Jack’s expression softened, and though he didn’t say it, you could tell how deeply he felt the distance. “You don’t need to do this alone, you know? We’re all here for you.”

You nodded, but even the words felt hollow. “I know. I just… I’m not sure how to fit back in.”

Jack took a step forward, his gaze intense as it locked with yours. “Don’t shut us out. We’re your family.”

And just like that, the weight of it all hit you—the weight of the lake house, of Jack, of Luke. You couldn’t keep running away, not anymore. But you weren’t sure how to face the truth. The truth that Luke was still there, waiting, somewhere in the shadows, and the hardest part of it all was knowing that, maybe, you hadn’t been able to face him yet.

The air was beginning to shift as the first hints of fall whispered across the trees, rustling the leaves in the distance. It had been another summer of avoidance—weeks stretching into months, each one slipping by as you found more and more reasons to stay away from the lake house, from Jack, from Luke. The reasons weren’t as simple as school or work or family, but they were the excuses you told yourself to make it easier. To convince yourself that pulling away didn’t matter. But as you sat behind the wheel of your car, driving down the familiar road leading to the lake, you couldn’t deny the knot in your stomach.

You didn’t know how you’d gotten here, but you could feel the weight of it in your bones—the guilt, the emptiness. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt truly connected to any of it. To the people, to the place that had once been everything. It was as if, over the course of a summer, the distance between you and them had grown to a point where it felt too difficult to cross back.

You could see the lake house in the distance, the same wooden structure that had once felt like home, but now it was just a shadow of itself. Everything about it felt different, hollow in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

As you stepped out of your car and made your way down the familiar path that led to the dock, you wondered why you were here. You had avoided coming for so long—avoided the people, avoided Luke. And now, walking in the direction of the place you had always felt safest, you couldn’t help but feel like a stranger.

Your eyes scanned the area as you approached the dock, the soft sound of water lapping against the shore mixing with the gentle rustling of the trees in the breeze. It felt peaceful, serene even, but there was an ache in your chest you couldn’t ignore. A heaviness that made your steps feel uncertain, as if you weren’t quite sure you were supposed to be here.

And then you saw him.

Luke was sitting on the edge of the dock by the water, his back stiff, his hands resting on the wooden panels beneath him. He hadn’t noticed you yet, his gaze fixed out toward the horizon, where the golden light from the setting sun danced across the surface of the lake. His hat was pulled low over his face, casting a shadow that made his expression unreadable, but there was something about the stillness of his figure that made your chest tighten.

It was like time had paused in that moment. The world around you faded as you watched him, your eyes tracing the outline of his silhouette, the familiar shape of him that you hadn’t seen in weeks. There was a distance between you now, one that seemed to stretch out endlessly, a chasm that you had been too afraid to face.

You hadn’t meant to avoid him, not really. But with Jack and Alyssa together, everything had changed. And with every day that passed, the more it seemed impossible to go back to how it was before. You missed Luke. You missed the way he’d been there for you, the way he had always been in the background, supportive and understanding in a way that was easy to take for granted. And yet, when you thought about him, you always found yourself circling back to the same thought: It’s too late now.

The wind picked up, and the leaves in the trees swayed gently, their movement in rhythm with the pulse in your chest. You stood still for a long moment, just watching him, unsure of what to do next. The quiet between you felt suffocating, a reminder of the unspoken words that had been left unsaid for so long. You wanted to call out to him, to ask how he had been, to break the silence and bridge the gap that had been growing between you. But you stayed silent, not knowing what to say, what right you had to speak when you had stayed away for so long.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Luke shifted slightly. His body tensed for a moment before he turned, his eyes lifting slowly from the horizon to meet yours.

In that instant, everything in you seemed to stop. His gaze was heavy, intense, as if he had been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to come back. But there was something more in his eyes, something deeper. His expression was unreadable, but there was an undeniable pull in the way he looked at you, like he was seeing through all the walls you’d built up, all the excuses you’d made.

“Y/N,” Luke said quietly, his voice carrying across the distance between you. He didn’t stand up, didn’t move. He just stayed there, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been avoiding him for months.

You couldn’t find the words. You wanted to say something, anything to break the silence, but nothing came. Instead, you just took a step closer, stopping a few feet away from him. You both stared at each other for a long time, the quiet stretching out longer than either of you was comfortable with.

Finally, Luke broke the silence. “Why do you keep running away?” His voice wasn’t angry, but there was a rawness to it that you hadn’t expected.

You froze, the question hitting you harder than you thought it would. “I’m not running,” you said quickly, trying to sound calm, but even you could hear the lie in your voice.

“Yes, you are,” Luke replied, his words sharp now, like they had been building up for a long time. “From the lake house, from me.”

The words stung more than you wanted to admit. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You just stood there, unable to process what he had said, what he was implying. You felt something inside you snap, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it.

“Luke, what are you talking about?” you finally asked, your voice coming out softer than you had intended.

Luke let out a sharp breath, like the weight of everything he had been holding in was finally too much. He stood up then, but didn’t come closer. Instead, he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time in a long while, like he was waiting for you to really see him, to understand what he had been carrying.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth like a confession he had been holding onto for years. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was.”

The world around you seemed to stop. The trees, the water, even the air itself seemed to freeze in place, leaving you standing there, staring at him in stunned silence. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came.

Luke took a step closer, his voice growing quieter now, but more intense. “But you never saw me, did you? I was just Jack’s little brother to you. I was always just there. In the background. You never noticed me for anything else.”

His words hit you like a freight train, shattering everything you thought you knew about yourself, about him, about what had been right in front of you all along. You stood there, frozen, as if the world around you had suddenly slowed down. His confession wasn’t just a declaration—it was a breaking point, a revelation that you couldn’t escape. You had always thought you knew who Luke was, always thought you understood the quiet, steady presence he had been in your life. But you had been blind.

The memories flooded back all at once—those small, seemingly insignificant moments you had brushed aside without a second thought. The way Luke’s gaze would linger on you when you laughed, how he would stay behind after everyone else had gone home to help clean up, how his voice had always been a little softer, a little more patient whenever he spoke to you. The way he had stood in the background, never demanding anything from you, never asking for more, but always there. Always just a little too quiet, a little too distant, a little too kind for you to notice. And now, as the weight of what he had just said hung heavy in the air, you understood. All those moments weren’t coincidences. They had been his way of loving you without you ever realizing it.

You opened your mouth to speak, to process it all, but the words were stuck in your throat. I never knew. The thought echoed relentlessly in your mind, but you couldn’t say it aloud. You couldn’t bring yourself to voice the truth, not yet. It was too overwhelming, too raw, and yet, as much as you wanted to deny it, you felt the heavy sting of regret curling up from somewhere deep within you. You had missed it. You had missed him.

You took a small step forward, the movement feeling more like a leap into an unknown space, like walking on the edge of something fragile and delicate. Every part of you felt exposed, the rawness of the moment too intense for your usual walls to hold up. Your heart was hammering in your chest, each beat louder than the last, thumping in your ears as if to remind you how real this was.

Luke was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those familiar eyes—spoke everything. There was a softness in them now, a quiet vulnerability that you had never seen before. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look bitter. He didn’t look like he had been holding onto this for years just to lash out. No, instead, he was just standing there—quiet, patient, waiting. Waiting for you to see him. Waiting for you to finally look at him the way he had always looked at you.

You took another step closer, the words that had been building in your chest finally spilling out. “Luke…” Your voice trembled, barely a whisper, but it was enough for him to hear. Enough for the world to hear the weight of it all. “I never knew.”

There was no sudden shift in him—no dramatic reaction, no sigh of relief. He didn’t move. He didn’t take a step toward you or away from you. Instead, his expression softened even further, and for the first time in years, you saw Luke as he truly was—vulnerable, raw, and, in that moment, completely open to you. He wasn’t holding back anymore. He wasn’t hiding his feelings, wasn’t waiting for you to come to him. He had already given everything he could, and now it was up to you to decide what came next.

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice so soft that you almost couldn’t hear it over the pounding of your heart. It was a simple response, but it felt like it contained the weight of everything he had carried, everything he had hoped for. “But I needed you to.”

The words hung in the air, a delicate thread between you both, and you felt the weight of them settle in your chest. He needed you to see him. He needed you to stop running, to stop avoiding the truth that had always been there, hiding behind the easy smiles and the comfort of friendship. He needed you to finally understand that, all this time, he had been right there. Right in front of you. And you had missed him.

It wasn’t just about the lake house, or Jack, or the old memories of summers past. It was about you and Luke. About everything that had been unsaid, everything that had been quietly building up in the background while you had been so caught up in your own confusion, your own feelings for Jack. You had never allowed yourself to see what was standing right there in front of you—what had been waiting for you all along.

A sudden ache pierced through your chest, a mix of regret, guilt, and something else—something you couldn’t quite name. You had been running from him. You had been running from his love, from the possibility of something deeper, something real. And now, standing there, with him just a few feet away, you realized just how much you had lost by not seeing him sooner.

Luke was still standing there, waiting. He wasn’t pushing you, wasn’t asking for anything. He had already given you everything. His love. His time. His patience. He had been there for you in ways you hadn’t even understood until now. And for the first time, you felt the full weight of it.

You took a deep breath, the air around you thick with emotion, and you felt something shift inside you. You had been running for so long, but now, in this moment, you didn’t want to run anymore. You didn’t want to hide from the truth. You wanted to stop pretending that everything was fine, that you had everything figured out when, in reality, you had been avoiding the one thing that could make everything right.

The silence hung in the air, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t a chasm between you that needed to be filled with words, but a soft space of understanding, a quiet kind of anticipation. It was as though everything that had once been said, and everything that had been left unsaid, was coming together in this one moment. The weight of what Luke had shared with you, the rawness of his confession, it wasn’t a burden anymore—it was a bridge between you, and you could feel it stretching out before you.

You stood there, a few feet away, and your mind raced, scrambling to find a way to process what had just happened. But no matter how hard you tried to make sense of it, you kept coming back to one thing—Luke. Luke, standing there, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. He was no longer just Jack’s younger brother. He was Luke—the boy who had been there for you in every way, without ever asking for anything in return.

It was almost as if, in that moment, you could feel the shift deep inside of you. Everything you had been running from, everything you had been hiding from, came rushing to the surface. You realized, with a sharp clarity, that you had been avoiding him, yes—but you had also been avoiding yourself. Avoiding the truth that had always been right in front of you.

And then, without thinking, without hesitating, you closed the space between you. One step. Then another. The sound of your heartbeat was the loudest thing you could hear, each beat reverberating in your chest, urging you closer. You had no plan, no idea what you were doing, but somehow, in that moment, you knew. You knew you had to stop running.

Your breath caught as you stopped just inches from him, the world narrowing down to the two of you. His presence seemed to envelop you, a warmth that you had once only felt in his friendship, but now… it felt different. It felt like it was pulling you in, like gravity itself had shifted, and the only place you could go was to him.

You raised your hand instinctively, your fingers brushing against his sleeve, and then, without saying a word, your lips met his.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t the wild, impetuous kiss of a first love or an overwhelming rush of emotion. It was something softer, quieter—a hesitant question that had never been asked. You could feel the uncertainty between you both, as if neither of you was sure what this meant, but you both knew you needed it. You needed to close the gap, to answer the question that had hung between you for so long. It was a kiss that felt like the very beginning of something, not a culmination.

But then, as the seconds stretched, as the warmth of his lips against yours seemed to sink deeper into your skin, something shifted. The hesitation melted away. It was like the dam inside you had finally broken, letting all the emotions that had been bottled up for years flow out in one sweeping wave. The kiss deepened, soft and slow, but urgent now—as if you were both finally allowing yourselves to feel everything you had kept locked away. His hand gently cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get close enough. And you—your hands found their place on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The rhythm matched your own, and it felt like you were syncing with him in a way that was more intimate than anything you had ever known.

In that moment, you felt like you were being seen—not just as the girl who loved Jack, but as yourself. As you—the person Luke had always seen and loved in his quiet, steady way, even when you had been blind to it. It wasn’t just the touch of his lips on yours. It was everything—his patience, his understanding, his willingness to wait for you to finally see him for who he truly was.

When you pulled away, your breath came in short, shaky bursts. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so exposed, so utterly vulnerable. But at the same time, it felt like everything had fallen into place. All the fear, all the doubt—it had evaporated in the warmth of the kiss, leaving only the quiet certainty that this, whatever this was, was real.

You rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling together as you both tried to catch your breath, to come back to reality. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed slightly, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening either. The two of you, standing there in the quiet of the evening, under the pale light of the setting sun, it felt surreal, but it was also exactly where you were meant to be.

Luke’s thumb brushed over your cheek, the motion tender and slow, like he was memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. He opened his eyes then, looking at you with a depth that made your heart skip a beat. There was no anger in his gaze, no resentment for the years you had spent blind to him. There was only something softer—something more powerful. Something that told you he had always known you would come back to him, even if you didn’t know it yourself.

He let out a shaky breath, the words escaping him quietly, as if he were confessing something deeply private. “I’ve waited so long for you to see me like this. To see me for me.”

The weight of his words landed on you like a soft wave, gentle but impossible to ignore. You hadn’t seen him—not truly. Not until now. But now, in this moment, you could see everything. Every little piece of him that had been hidden in the quiet corners of your heart, waiting for you to wake up.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a second, savoring the feeling of being held, of finally being seen. His words echoed in your mind, and you felt an overwhelming ache in your chest, a deep sense of longing that had always been there but had been buried under years of hesitation, confusion, and missed opportunities.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the truth finally tumbled from your lips. “I didn’t know. I should’ve seen you. I should’ve been there. I didn’t…”

He shook his head softly, interrupting you with a quiet smile, the kind that made your heart ache with tenderness. “You’re here now,” he said, his voice full of warmth, of understanding, of everything he had been waiting for. “That’s all that matters.”

And in that moment, you realized that he was right. The past didn’t matter anymore. The things you had missed, the time you had wasted—it didn’t matter, because you were here now. Together.

You took a deep breath, pulling away slightly to look at him. The future was still uncertain—still unknown. But standing here, in the quiet, the world around you seemed to fade. The wind ruffling the trees, the soft murmur of the lake—it all became background noise, insignificant compared to the pull between the two of you.

And when you looked at Luke, you didn’t see Jack’s younger brother anymore. You didn’t see the boy who had been stuck in the shadows of his older brother’s life. You saw Luke—the boy who had always been there, waiting, loving, patient. And for the first time, you were able to see him for who he truly was.

And that was enough. That was more than enough.

The next summer at the lake house felt like a new chapter, a fresh breeze sweeping through the familiar spaces. The house, though unchanged in its appearance, felt different to you—like it had grown, expanded, become something more than it had ever been. The old rhythms were still there. Jack’s easy laugh echoed in the kitchen, Alyssa’s chatter floated through the air, and Quinn’s voice was a steady undercurrent, always with that knowing smile. But there was something new now. Something you couldn’t put into words, something that had shifted in the space between you and Luke, something that made the house feel like a home.

As you walked through the front door, your heart fluttered slightly in your chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves. The familiar scent of the lake, the wood of the house, and the salty air filled your senses. You had missed it all, but it felt different now. You had avoided this place for so long, spent so many months running from it, running from him. And now, standing here, you felt a mix of both vulnerability and relief. You knew what had changed—it was the way you saw Luke now, not just a background figure in your life. He was Luke. And he was everything you had needed and didn’t know you had been waiting for.

When you walked into the living room, your eyes immediately found him. Luke was standing by the window, his broad shoulders relaxed, and that warm smile of his lighting up his face. It was the same smile you had seen a thousand times, but now it felt like it was meant for you, and you couldn’t help but return it. His gaze flickered over to you, and his smile deepened—no longer the shy, almost hesitant grin you had seen before, but a confident, knowing one. He waved, his eyes playful, but there was no longer any hesitation between you. No more distance. No more of the quiet longing that had once been there. Just Luke. Just the two of you.

You found yourself walking toward him, almost instinctively, like you were following some unseen thread that had always been pulling you closer. As you approached, he reached for your hand, slipping his fingers into yours with an ease that felt completely natural. The touch felt right, as though the universe had always intended for you two to be this way.

Jack was sitting on the couch, his arm around Alyssa, and Quinn was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed but with a small, knowing smile on his face. It was as if Quinn could see something in you and Luke that no one else could, like he had been waiting for this moment for years. His smile was subtle, but there was a quiet pride in it, a quiet satisfaction. He knew what this meant. He had watched his younger brother love you from the sidelines, and now, as he looked at the way you and Luke stood together, there was a peace in his eyes. It was as if he had been holding his breath for so long, waiting for Luke’s feelings to be reciprocated, and now, finally, they were.

The evening passed like it always did, with laughter and familiar chatter filling the space. But there was a new dynamic now—one that everyone could feel. Jack, ever the easygoing older brother, noticed the subtle but undeniable shift between you and Luke. He didn’t say anything, but you could see it in his eyes when he caught your gaze—acknowledgment, understanding, and maybe even a little relief. Jack had never been the type to need to understand everything, but he could see what had always been there between you and Luke, and now, seeing the way Luke’s eyes lit up when he looked at you, seeing the way you seemed to belong by his side—it was clear. There was no need for words. The change had come, and it was undeniable.

When the evening wore on and the sun began to dip low over the lake, painting the sky in warm golden hues, you and Luke found yourselves outside. The air had cooled, the breeze soft and comforting, and you both gravitated to the old bench by the water. It was the same bench where so much had unfolded between you in the past, where you had first realized the depth of your feelings, where you had started to see Luke in a new light. It felt almost like fate that you would return here, as if this spot, this place by the water, was the point where everything had started to change.

Luke sat down first, his hand still holding yours, and you followed suit, settling beside him. His arm brushed against yours, and for a moment, the two of you just sat there, letting the quiet wash over you. The soft rustling of the trees, the gentle lapping of the water, the distant call of birds settling in for the night—it was all so familiar, yet now it felt new. The air between you and Luke was filled with an unspoken understanding, a peace that neither of you had ever experienced before. You didn’t need to say anything. You didn’t need to explain the emotions swirling between you, because you both felt them. You were here. Together. And that was enough.

Luke’s hand gently slid into yours, his fingers entwining with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. You looked over at him, your heart swelling as you realized how far you had come. The awkwardness, the uncertainty, the hesitation—they were all gone now, replaced with something deep and sure. You finally felt like you had arrived, not just at the lake house, but at a place where you could truly be yourself, where you could finally see Luke for who he was and love him the way he had always loved you.

The stars began to twinkle overhead, the sky darkening as the night crept in. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was peaceful. And when you looked over at Luke, you saw him looking up at the sky too, a soft smile on his lips, the glow from the stars reflecting in his eyes.

“I never thought this would happen,” you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the peaceful sounds of the night. “I didn’t know I was running from the one thing that was right in front of me all along.”

Luke’s eyes met yours then, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re here now,” he said, his voice steady and full of warmth. “And that’s all that matters.”

The words were simple, but they held so much weight. You had been running, yes, but you had stopped now. And in stopping, you had found something more beautiful than you had ever imagined. You had found him. And that was enough.

As you sat there, side by side, under the stars, you realized that everything had come full circle. All the years of missed moments, all the moments of doubt and confusion—they were behind you now. You were finally here, with Luke, where you both belonged. And as the cool breeze ruffled your hair and the distant hum of the night surrounded you, you felt like the world was finally right again.

And from where you sat, you could see Quinn watching from the porch, that small but knowing smile still on his face, as if he knew this moment was a long time coming. Luke had always deserved this. And now, finally, he had it. He had you. And you had him.

In that moment, there was nothing left to do but lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beside you. The world might have been uncertain, but here, with him, you felt more certain than you ever had before. And you knew that, for once, you wouldn’t run anymore. You were right where you were meant to be.

[k1mbe3rly]

hii is it okay if you do headcanons (or a blurb idk) for a thanos x reader with nipple piercings, pretty please with a cherry on top?? 🥺

since you asked so cutely, head ahhh😭😭

Thanos reaction to a nipple piercing

- You literally flashed him with it, simply picked up your shirt and showed him your tits

- His jaw was dropped, his first instinct was grabbing your tits admiring the 2 tiny balls on each of your tits

- “Oh my god baby…did you get this for me?? I love them so much..so fucking sexy”

- You got them for fun but just decided to play along with him

- You watched as he kept touching your boobs, softly gripping them and bouncing them

- Finally he wrapped his hands under you quickly lifting you up and kissing you, “There so fucking perfect.. making me so hard baby.”

- He throws you on the bed and immediately gets on top of you and rips off your close to see your body fully

- Once he does he’s able to see your tits more as he licks around the piercing

- He does fuck you senselessly and sees how your boobs still jiggle even with the piercing which made it look way hotter

- He covers your tits with hickies and even takes a photo

- Ever since he just looks to stare at yours tits and even reaches out to feel the tiny balls

[oraltraditionfiction]

We listen and we don’t judge | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: You and Quinn do the We Listen and We Don't Judge challenge.

WC: 453

Author's Note: Tbh we're not really on tiktok, but we thought this was a cute idea!! This is my first ever fic/blurb/piece of fanfiction so I would love to hear any feedback :-) Enjoy! - 🐇

You set the camera up on the kitchen counter, swiping under your eyes before backing up to Quinn. 

“Ok! Are we ready?” You say, clapping your hands together. Quinn nods, arms slung around you and an indulgent smile on his face. 

“This is the weird habits thing from TikTok, right?”

You nod, laughing, as you lean forward and press play.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” You say as you spread your hands theatrically, Quinn only jumping in halfway through the sentence.

You side eye the man next to you, leaning in close to the camera, “Sometimes,” a conspiratorial whisper, “I cheer for the Bruins when you aren’t home.”

Quinn drops his arms from around you, and turns towards you wide eyed, “Babe, that’s practically treason… they’ll kill you…” you laugh and shove him lightly, a finger in front of your mouth to mime secrecy. 

“Ok your turn!” you push him forward.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” said together.

He chuckles, rubbing his neck, “Sometimes I use your face towel as a hand towel” You whirl towards him in shock, hitting his arm with the back of your hand. 

“Quinn! I have acne because of you!” He dodges your playful hits, laughing at your mock outraged face.

Through giggles you spit out, “Sometimes I dog-ear our book pages because you lost all of our cute bookmarks.” 

“Oh my god, babe, find a receipt or some shit. They don’t have to be cute” Quinn puts his head in his hands, heaving out a dramatic sigh. You laugh, tugging his hands away from his face as he thinks of his next one.

“One time I put your favorite bra in the dryer and it got ruined and instead of telling you I just bought a new one” 

You gasp, actually floored. “You told me that I had probably just missed that tag! I can’t believe you!” 

Faking indignation you turn away from him and say, “Sometimes I don’t wash our fruit before we eat it” 

“You’re going to actually give us brain worms. Oh my god, babe… we could have brain worms right now.” He says hand over his mouth, your laughter ringing out across the kitchen. 

Quinn wraps his arms around you, holding you close, “Sometimes when you aren’t here, I don’t use coasters.” You gasp, turning in his hold. He laughs as you begin gesticulating wildly, 

“Quinn, that is so bad for the wood!” You begin lecturing him, saying that his apartment is much too nice for moisture rings to be on his nice wooden coffee table. He buries his face in your neck, smothering his laughter so he can listen attentively to your voice.

[meadowfics]

entitlement

brothersbestfriend!kang dae ho x f!reader

sfw + nsfw included

warnings: nsfw, smut!!, dom!dae ho, possessiveness, breeding kink, p in v, semi-public, swearing, still features the good parts of dae ho's character but with change for the headcannons of a dominant dae ho! 18+ minors dni. I am not responsible for the content you choose to read after this warning.

requested? the nsfw part yes! the sfw part no

entering the squid games is an experience that you were not ready for, emotionally.

after splitting off from your family, believing you could hold your own, you started to realize how harsh the world was.

your older brother, older by 18 months, warned you about the expenses that came with being on your own in a city like seoul, so far away from home.

you did not listen, you blew all of your money on luxuries, and gained a ton of debt which many loan sharers are still on your case about.

looking down at the number on your jacket, you saw the number 299. noticing that everyone around you were wearing the same clothes, you felt comfortable hoping that you would fit in with the crowd

"this is... odd."

however, there was a man who stood anxiously, wondering what all of this was about. player 388. he agreed to a game, but not with hundreds of people. the warehouse smelled like bleach, strangely, and it was hot.

he told his bestfriend (your older brother) that he was simply going to be gone for a few days, get money, and then they could leave their homes to live on their own.. just like how you tried.

dae ho remembers you from his childhood. he remembers when your brother went on a full rant about you leaving their hometown to move to seoul. it was obvious that your brother was concerned, with a small hint of jealousy because of your early independence.

he always found you beautiful, and perfect. however, being the younger sister of his bestfriend.. he assumed that you were off limits.

so, when he saw you standing alone after the guards left the dorms, he had to do a double take.. no.. a triple take!

"y/n?" you heard a voice.

you knew who that voice belonged to.

you did not turn around as dae ho approached you from behind.

“why are you here, y/n? I thought you were supposed to be in seoul?"

“and I thought you were supposed to be in busan with your little job opportunity.. at least according to (brother's name) the last time I talked to him,’” she shot back.

while playing red light, green light.. you thought you were going to throw up, frozen, due to all of the gunshots flying down on moving players.

dae ho watched you the whole time. you were slightly ahead of him, thankfully.

“y/n, listen to me. you stick with me, okay? no matter what happens, you stay by my side and let me protect you.”

“dae ho, i don’t need a babysitter—”

“this isn’t up for debate,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

that first night, you could not sleep. you had to sleep on the bunk with dae ho, since he needed to watch over you.

“i’ll watch your back while you sleep, and you can watch mine afterwards dae,”

you said, wondering if this was going to be a "sleep shifts" situation.

“no,” dae ho said firmly.

“i’ll watch both our backs. just focus on staying alive.”

the next morning, shortly before the next game, a player came up to you, a younger man, hoping to ask a simple question.

“she’s fine. move along.” dae ho spoke up as he stood behind you.

after the six legged pentathlon, where you were paired up with dae-ho and his group, you confronted him about his behavior.

“why are you hovering over me all the time?”

“your brother would kill me if something happened to you,”

“dae ho, my brother doesn’t even know that we are here.”

“exactly. if I died here, he would revive me just to kill me again when he finds out.”

after the mingle game, where dae ho saved your life. you stopped fighting your growing feelings for him.

you hoped it was not one sided.

that night, you laid cuddled with dae ho. your back was pressed against his front.

sometime when you thought that he would've been asleep, you felt something poking at your ass. something hard

you bit your lip, realizing how much you wanted him in that moment.

pretending to just move in your "sleep," you moved your ass along his boner, hoping to not make it obvious.

"stop doing that." dae ho whispered.

your eyes were closed, pretending to sleep.

suddenly, you felt a strong hand come around your neck. there was no pressure, just a light hold.

"I know you are not asleep, y/n."

his lips lingered over your right ear

not even five minutes later, you found yourself under dae ho as he pushed his thick length into your entrance.

your joggers were at the end of the bunk, your soaked panties pulled to the side as dae ho teased you for it.

"easy access."

"you're so wet for me."

"you've wanted my dick this bad, huh?"

"answer me."

you babbled your answers, just wanting him to completely reorganize your insides.

dae ho's strong body fucked into you as you held onto his biceps, tracing your fingers along his marine tattoo.

you looked into his eyes with your teared ones

"oh- oh fuckkk." you dragged out quietly as his tip started to poke at your cervix.

"you're so pretty taking me so well."

dae ho places his hands on the back of your knees, pushing your legs further towards your head as he drills himself into you more.

"I wonder how (brother's name) would feel about this? you taking his bestfriend's dick like the good girl you are."

you rolled your eyes, not just from the pleasure, but you did not want to think about him while dae ho was in your guts.

"I-i'm" you babble as you feel a tightness in your stomach.

"not yet." dae ho pulls out.

he flips you on all fours, making sure your face is against the pillow as he pushed himself into you from behind.

"so. fucking. good." he pounds after each word.

you feel yourself tighten around him as you cum, your eyes seeing stars as you feel him not stopping and riding out your orgasm.

"you know, we would make cute babies once we get out of here. what do you think? we'll have enough money and one won't hurt."

"yes. yes. yes." you breathed out, feeling a little overstimulated after cumming.

"ahhh!" 388 hisses as he cums inside of you.

he thrusts a few more times, making sure you took all of him, before pulling out and pulling his tracksuit pants back up.

he helps you put your pants back on too, holding you in his strong arms as you both fall asleep.. hoping that you'll both live get out of this game.

I hope you enjoyed :)

[pacofprunes]

my house, your house, aka, my girlfriend, your girlfriend. (mi casa, su casa)

thanos x fem!reader, nam-gyu x fem!reader

warnings — noncon, cursing, lowercase, drugs, injections(1), oral(fem), needles, nam-gyu and thanos argue like children, 3sum, protection not specified but you can assume none, thanos is referred to as su-bong by the reader, nam-gyu calls thanos “T-dog” once, lowkey nam-gyu is manipulating thanos or some shit im ngl, too much to count

“come on bro, cut me some slack, i’ll pay you back, you know im good for it.”

thanos stood in front of his good friend and dealer nam-gyu. desperate for some more drugs. he didn’t have the money though and was damn near about to get on his fucking knees just to get one more pill.

“i cut you slack everytime i sell to you thanos. i’m cutting you slack right now actually and you still don’t have enough.”

thanos runs his hands through his hair about to lose his cool. despite needing more, thanos would never allow himself to actually run out. he always has something on him. if he ever truly runs out, you’ll catch him with a shot of mouth wash in his pocket or some random ass prescription meds.

thanos opens his cross up, frowning at the little amount of pills left before popping one in his mouth. after sitting for a few seconds he shakes his head back and forth intensely before he jumps up.

“alright man! how bout you let me pay in some other way, huh?”

nam-gyu scoffs before he starts to laugh.

“you tryna sell yourself to me?”

thanos pushes him back by his shoulder.

“nah bro, what the fuck? i ain’t that bad! now you? you are an absolute junkie, i could see you doing that. you’re worse than me! stickin’ needles in your arms and shit.”

nam-gyu just scoffs again before biting his lip back. him and thanos were close friends. best buds. in fact, he lost a lot of ‘customers’ due to the fact that he’d sometimes give shit to thanos for free and they all wanted a piece of that. he was thinking of a way he could let thanos pay it off before you pop into his head. god you were fucking gorgeous. perfect face, perfect body, and such a perfect girl. despite dating a junkie and hanging around junkies, you yourself didn’t really use. only thing he’s ever seen you do is vape and smoke some weed. he’s expressed to thanos numerous times how perfect you were, and thanos was probably too high to give a fuck. and he’s high like 90% of the time. you were the one girl thanos actually wanted to date and stay with and not just fuck a couple nights of the week or whenever he hit you up. clearly you were perfect.

“give me a turn with your girl.”

thanos looks at him confused.

“my girl?”

“yes, your girl. i want a turn. you know, fuck, hit it and quit it, whatever you wanna say.”

thanos scoffs at him before looking away for a second. he was never opposed to sharing a girl in the past but you were different. you weren’t thanos’s fuck toy, no, you were thanos’s girl. and there’s a difference. a big difference. but nam-gyu was his bro. his best bro. he could share you with him.

“i’m not opposed to it but she’s not gonna want to, i mean look at you.”

now nam-gyu hits thanos and he just laughs. saying he was joking.

“okay, but seriously. my girl isn’t gonna wanna sleep with you. for one, she’s loyal, she loves me, and,”

nam-gyu stands there waiting for him to say something else and finish his sentence before saying a sarcastic ‘and?’ back to him. thanos shrugs his shoulders.

“that’s all i got.”

nam-gyu rolls his eyes before throwing a shoulder over thanos.

“cmon, you haven’t ever taken no as an answer, huh?”

thanos pouts his lip out to the side and thinks for a second.

“i mean, from her, yeah.”

nam-gyu lets out a heavy breath before throwing his head back.

“just for one night. why don’t you treat her like any other bitch you used to do and just force her to let it happen.”

thanos looks offended at that and moves nam-gyus shoulder off of him. wondering if the drugs were really worth it. yeah if it was mutual between all of you he wouldn’t have really cared but he knew what nam-gyu was clearly insinuating.

“she’s gonna break up with me if i do.”

nam-gyu pauses to think before handing him a pill.

“oh man, really? for free?”

nam-gyu snatches his hand back.

“no. give this to her. it’ll make her a little drunk is all’. she won’t even remember by the morning.”

thanos thinks before snatching the pill out of his hand, looking down and inspecting it. he mumbles something under his breath.

“some fucked up shit,”

he lets out a heavy breath before looking at nam-gyu and points a finger at him.

“alright bro! but ima be there the whole time. and ima be getting my fair share with her too. she’s my girl after all, alright? i’m the one who knows how to please her.”

nam-gyu smirks at him before he gives him a nod.

“whatever you say. just don’t touch my dick or nothin’,”

thanos scoffs before taking a hit of his vape.

“not in a million fucking years! you don’t got nothing to worry about.”

—

“cmon babe, i take em’ all the time! just give it a shot.”

you look at your boyfriend like he’s gone crazy. he’s never tried to make you do drugs except for the first few times you met. the most you’ve done was smoke weed with him, he knew you didn’t do that crap. you didn’t even like when he did it but you supported him either way. why he was trying to pressure you to take this pill? you had no idea.

“what’s going on with you? you know i don’t do that crap.”

he playfully shakes you by your shoulders, giving you a fake pouty look.

“please baby…it’ll put you in this trance and make us feel like you’re on cloud nine. it’ll make falling asleep together in bed feel like a magical dream.”

you give him a concerned look before you act as if you’re gonna grab the pill from him but you just push it up to his mouth. he wouldn’t even let it slip past his lips.

“see! you take every drug under the sun and you wouldn’t even take it. why are you trying to give me something that you don’t even want?”

he lays his head on your shoulder and holds one of your hands and massaging it in his hand.

“it’s not that, i just already took one and you can’t take more than one in an hour!”

you deadpan at him.

“just get some alcohol or something if you’re really concerned on making our bedtime magical.”

he sighs before playfully pinching your arm, you let out an ow.

“you always played hard to get.”

you laugh.

“but that’s why you love me, is it not?”

he kisses you before pulling away and looking you in your eyes.

“you’re right.”

he pulls away completely now before making an ‘o’ face.

“oh, right, nam-su’s coming over in a few. kay’? kay.”

you give him a contorted look before complaining that you wanted to go to bed or that he never told you but he just ignores you, skipping away and shutting the bedroom door behind him. you press your palm into your forehead and let out a groan. he was literally going to be the death of you. but you loved him and his stupid antics.

—

“she wouldn’t take it man. i gave her the puppy dog eyes and everything!”

nam-gyu face palms himself before pulling something out of his pocket. a needle.

“hit her with this.”

“oh hell no. that’s that crazy ass shit you use, we’re not using that.”

nam-gyu shrugs before injecting the substance in his arm and thanos gives him a grotesque look.

“look man, just wait till she goes to sleep. she’s a heavy sleeper. i end up on top of her every night and i got some loud ass snores after drinking too much and she still doesn’t wake up.”

“how longs her going to sleep gonna take?”

“like now,”

“now?”

“yes. what are you complaining for? you took an hour longer to get here so she already fell asleep.”

thanos leads nam-gyu to your guys shared bedroom and slowly creeks open the door and peeks in before signaling nam-gyu to follow. on the bed was you sound asleep, not suspecting a thing.

“aw man, I don’t know if i should let you do this. if she wakes up she’s gonna know and break up with me. she’s already pissed at me for tryna’ get her to take that stupid ass pill you gave me.”

nam-gyu just slaps him on the back and brushes him off before he goes to sit next to you on the bed. the bed dipping down and you slightly moving toward the dip. he moves your hair behind your ear and brushes his hand down your cheek to your neck. your actual boyfriend just standing in the corner hitting his vape. the room starting to become a literal cloud. nam-gyu moves down and pulls down your pajamas, viewing your pretty legs, rubbing his hand on the inside of your thigh before pulling your panties down. thanos takes the vape out of his mouth and moves closer before nam-gyu can even put a finger in.

“you’re not very good at…this. i know what her body likes so i’ll take care of it and then you can do almost whatever.”

nam-gyu rolls his eyes before moving away from your pussy, leaving that to thanos and moving his attention up to your torso.

“could you cut the good protective boyfriend crap? you’re letting your shitty drug dealer best friend fuck her without asking just so you can pay for some more drugs. pretty fuckin’ hypocritical if you ask me.”

he laughs and thanos just stares at him blankly before turning his attention back to you. he lays his head on your stomach, rubbing his hands over it before going back down lower in between your thighs. starting to rub you in all the ways he knows you and your body loves.

“you’re all worried about me gettin’ rough but i’ve seen how you’ve fucked bitches before and it certainly ain’t nice.”

thanos looks back up at nam-gyu.

“oh don’t worry, i still fuck like an animal. i haven’t gotten soft, don’t think that for a second. but her, this is thanos’s girl! i let her get her high and i get mine. don’t wanna rip her pretty pussy apart.”

nam-gyu hums in response and snakes his hand under your shirt, groping you and teasing your nipples between his fingers, harsh pinches that if you were awake it’d have you screaming. such harsh pinches that it might as well wake you up. thanos still focused on your pussy, slaps wherever he can manage to hit nam-gyu without seeing, mumbling that he was gonna wake you up.

“she isn’t gonna see me if she wakes up. she’s gonna see you, so she won’t even be mad.”

thanos sits up between your legs and starts fucking with his own pants and boxers, pulling them down. nam-gyu looks over before quickly looking away, slapping his hand over his eyes.

“man, i didn’t wanna see your dick, put that shit away!”

thanos scoffs.

“we’re fucking my girl and you didn’t expect to see my dick? i’m gonna have to see yours! and i know mines bigger.”

he mumbled that last part.

“ugh, please let me go first. i don’t wanna put my dick in after you, that’s basically me fucking you.”

“okay? you should be honored.”

“honored that i’m fucking you?”

“i’m fucking thanos man. you should be honored you even get to see me like this and that i don’t stab your eyes out!”

nam-gyu scrunches his eyebrows together at him.

“yeah, i kinda think i want you to.”

“want me to what?”

nam-gyu slaps his forehead.

“stab my eyes out you fucking idiot.”

thanos ignores him, mumbling some curses before slowly pushing himself into your tight hole. he sits there for a minute before immediately thrusting himself into you fast as fuck and rough as shit. he grips his hands on your hips, to the point where it would definitely bruise in the morning. he continues chasing his own high until he abruptly stops due to the huge stir you just made in your sleep. nam-gyu holding in his laugh due to thanos’s ridiculous wide eyes. he was so still you’d think he was frozen from the inside.

“what’s wrong? keep going. you wanted to take her first.”

“shut the fuck up.”

thanos lets out a deep breath before opening his cross and popping a pill in his mouth and throwing his head back just staring at the ceiling, trying to stop himself from being so tense. he pulls out of you and decides to just jack off next to you on the side of the bed so you don’t wake up as soon as they start. pouting to himself because he wanted his girl to help him out instead of his right hand. nam-gyu gets up and places himself between your legs now, not hesitating to slide in, ignoring the stirring that you were doing. it just made his dick twitch even more, all your moving doing the work for him. he starts feeling you up as he slowly moves in and out of you, taking his time before he starts thrusting so hard that you smack the headboard of the bed. thanos drops his dick out of his hand and snaps his head up at nam-gyu?

“are you trying to wake her up?”

“not completely opposed to it. i’m livin’ by ‘if she wakes up she wakes up’.”

“it won’t be an ‘if’ she wakes up if you keep this shit up.”

you start to stir but nam-gyu could careless, keeping his rough pace. your eyebrows scrunching together as you place your hand on your face before propping your arms behind you to push yourself up. but the moment you do that you feel something slide out of you. you felt so full, felt good but at the same time this painful burning feeling. you mumble out for thanos, asking what he was doing and he climbs on top of you, laying his body flat on you before holding your face in his hands, pressing a tight kiss. you’re too out of it to reciprocate. having just woke up. although nam-gyu stopped for the second you completely woke, he quickly decides ‘fuck it’ and starts slamming so hard into you that you hit the headboard again. you quickly contort your face in pain and thanos snaps his head back at nam-gyu, causing nam-gyu to shrug. he snaps his head back to you, your face still in his hands before you go to move them.

“have you been fucking me while i’ve been asleep? what the hell has gotten into you su-bong?”

he quickly presses you into a kiss, this time a much rougher one to keep you quiet as you press your hands against his chest to get him off of you. he moves his hands back to your face, squeezing it tightly. finally he pulls away and that’s when nam-gyu finally pulls out. you hadn’t even known that he was there.

“ah man, she’s awake. whatever, can i use her mouth now T-dog?”

thanos scoffs at him and your eyes widen even more. wondering what was going on and why nam-gyu was here. you go to open your mouth but thanos just presses a finger to it.

“shh babe. i won’t let him do all that.”

“psh, maybe not today but sure you will at some point.”

you yell at thanos to get off of you so that you can leave and he just groans at you, frustrated.

“shut the fuck up. i’ve been pretty nice, huh? don’t piss me off now baby. he’s still here, i could let him do so much more.”

he leans in closer to your ear.

“and trust me, i know he wants to.”

he moves away from your ear and just looks over you, still completely on top of you before clapping his hands together.

“in fact, he wants to do shit that i’d never in a million years dream of doin’ to you. but if you’re gonna start being a bitch i’ll be a nice friend and let his dreams come true.”

nam-gyu rolls his eyes.

“yeah, a nice friend for once.”

“you don’t consider me letting you fuck my girl a friendly thing of me to do for you?”

nam-gyu throws his hands in the air shrugging.

“idontknow man,”

you were still so confused and couldn’t grasp the situation, feeling hands who you could assume were nam-gyus gliding up your thighs and fingers starting to play with your pussy, quickly going to kick at him before his hands hold your legs down and he settles for using his mouth instead. your eyes start to tear up and you take as large as a breath as you can with thanos still on top of you. you start to hit at him again, not caring what he’d have to say before he just stares at the wall blankly for a few seconds, letting you have your tantrum, before unexpectedly throwing his hands at your throat and choking you.

“shh, you’re good. i’ll make breakfast for ya in the morning, whatdya say? i think nam-gyus staying the night tho.”

he lets go of your neck with one hand, the other still staying on your neck and his now using his free hand he sticks out his tongue and puts his finger on it making an exaggerated fake disgusted look. you continue to try to free yourself, black spots clouding your vision more and more. god, why would you decide that hanging around, let alone dating an insanely active drug user and constantly partying with his drug dealer buddy’s was a good idea? now this crazy fuck was gonna kill you and he was gonna have a whole conversation with you as if nothing was wrong while he did it. he puts his other hand back on your neck while you just hold onto his wrist, not bothering to actually scratch at him, but just holding it and looking at him with the eyes that he fell in love with. the tears threatening to spill that whenever he saw he always took care of. hoping some slither of humanity was still left in the guy you thought you loved. he frees his one hand from choking you before your vision fully starts to fade, feeling his hand glide against your cheek before it all goes dark and he finally lets go, letting out a long shaky deep breath. the effects of his drugs starting to let up and his actions starting to dawn on him, quickly checking to make sure you were still alive before quickly getting up off of you so you wouldn’t have as much trouble breathing.

nam-gyu quickly pulls his pants back up and leaves thanos to slide yours up as well. he goes over to him and throws his arm over his shoulder before flicking the cross pendant around thanos’s neck. thanos looks down, not thinking to heavy on it and just opens it, taking the last pill out and popping it in his mouth as quickly as possible. nam-gyu reaches in his pocket and shuffles around before pulling out a bag filled with the pills thanos has been desiring, dangling it in front of his face. thanos’s eyes immediately widen in surprise.

“you shouldn’t have to bitch to me about needing more for at least two weeks unless you take like fifteen a day.”

thanos shakes his hands, wiggling his arms around a little, hoping the drug he just took takes its course as quickly as possible so he can feel better about what he just did.

“don’t worry man. as long as you clean her up i’m sure she’ll wake up thinkin’ it was all just a bad dream.”

thanos takes the bag of pills from him. nam-gyu gave him so much that he knew they all wouldn’t even fit in his cross. he looks at the bag one last time before he looks back down at you. he starts tossing the bag back and forth between his hands like a ball, thinking about what nam-gyu said. yeah, yeah he was probably right. you’d probably wake up thinking it was just some weird bad dream you made up. yeah. he’d make breakfast for you, apologize for trying to pressure you into taking that pill and you’d think it was all just a dream. nam-gyu coughs before speaking.

“so will there be a next time?”

the drugs start speaking for thanos before he could even comprehend what he was saying. before he could actually even know what he was saying. and he’s sure he wouldn’t even remember what he was saying either.

“shit, if you’re throwing this much around then hell yeah there’s gonna be a next time.”

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos II—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— as the two of you become more intimate, you uncover Young-il is not who he claims to be. He’s revealed to be the Hwang In-ho, the mastermind behind the entire game. As he manipulates you with his affections, you begin to question everything you thought you knew about him with the line between love and manipulation becoming increasingly blurred

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, he’s in his late 40s) the usual squid games violence mentions, manipulation and deceit, fingering, choking, nipple play, oral(f!receiving), praise kink, body worship, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— requests are open but i take a while to get to them, patience <3 like and reblog <3

Part I

It was a war zone. Screams and shouts echoed through the space as players turned on each other, desperation driving them to violence. You’d managed to stay out of it for the most part, keeping close to the quieter players, but tonight, the group had decided it was time to go after the organizers of the game.

“Stick with me,” Young-il, the player who had stuck by your side since the start, urged.

You nodded, clutching your arm. “Where are we going?”

He tightened his grip on your wrist. “Trust me. I’ll get you out of here.”

The two of you weaved through the chaos, narrowly dodging bullets as guards closed in. One of them lunged at you after having their gun taken, and before you could react, Young-il used a gun to shoot them.

“Keep moving,” he barked, his voice unusually firm.

As the two of you made your way through what you called a maze, a steel door loomed and you couldn’t help but notice how methodical Young-il was. He fought with precision, taking down and guards and helping the group as you pressed forward.

“In here!” he said, dragging you through a hidden corridor behind the door.

Your heart pounded as the sounds of chaos grew fainter. “Where are we going? How do you know about this place?”

He didn’t answer, his jaw clenched as he led you through the dimly lit hallway. When two guards appeared, you froze, expecting them to attack, but Young-il stepped forward, raising his hands.

“It’s me,” he said coolly.

To your shock, they stepped aside, lowering their weapons.

“What the hell?” you whispered, staring at him in disbelief.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “I’ll explain everything. Just stay with me.”

You followed him through the hallway, each step filling you with dread. At the end of the corridor, he pushed open a heavy door, revealing a sleek, high-tech room filled with monitors.

You froze in the doorway. The screens displayed every corner of the facility, the dormitory, the games, the guards. It was the command center.

“What is this?” you demanded, turning to him.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached to a table and picked up a black mask that had been hidden.

“You’re the organizer of the games?” you whispered, recognizing that he was what they were after.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “But I couldn’t. Not yet.”

“You’re the Front Man?” Your voice trembled as the realization hit you like a freight train. “You’ve been running this whole thing?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his tone laced with guilt. “I didn’t want you here. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped back. “You lied to me. All this time, I thought—I thought you were one of us. I slept with you!”

“I did what I had to do to protect you and—forget that,” he said, taking your hand firmly.

You pulled your hand away, anger bubbling to the surface. “And this is your idea of protection? Letting people die?”

“I’ve kept you alive, haven’t I?” His voice softened, and for a moment, you saw the man you thought you knew. “I brought you here because it’s the only safe place left. Please, just trust me.”

The heavy doors to his quarters slid open, and he guided you inside with a hand on your back. The room was cold and sterile, lined with screens showing every corner of the games. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine as you realized how removed this place was from the chaos you’d just escaped.

He stood by the console, running a hand through his damp hair as his chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. He was fighting to keep his expression neutral, but you noticed the faintest flicker of something else, a strain, like he was holding back.

“I need to explain,” he said, his tone carefully measured.

You crossed your arms, your voice trembling. “Explain what? That you lied to everyone? To me?”

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he walked closer. “I had no choice. My name isn’t Young-il. It’s Hwang In-ho. I entered the game for a reason, to infiltrate and dismantle this from the inside.”

There it was again—that careful modulation of his voice, as if he was reading from a script. But the way he avoided your eyes gave him away.

The real truth you were unaware of was that he didn’t care about dismantling anything. The truth was, the deaths, the violence, it didn’t matter to him. The only thing he cared about was you. His sweet, pretty little thing.

“What about our friends?” you asked, cutting through the silence. Your voice cracked as you thought of the people you’d fought beside. “What happened to them?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t worry about them,” he said coldly. “It’s just me and you now.”

“Don’t worry?” you repeated, your voice rising. “They were our allies, our—”

“They don’t matter,” he interrupted, his tone hard. “You matter. I’ve done everything to protect you. Every choice I’ve made, every lie—it was all for you.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to believe the man in front of you. His eyes softened as he stepped closer, his fingers brushing over your arm. “I know it’s hard to trust me right now. But you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

You shook your head, your mind racing. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”

“You’ll see,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your knuckles as he took your hand. “You’ll see that everything I’ve done has been for you.”

He straightened, his voice firm again. “You can get cleaned up. There are clothes for you in the bathroom.”

You walked into the sleek bathroom, its stark white tiles almost blinding under the fluorescent lights. A stack of fresh clothes sat neatly on the counter, along with a towel. The sound of water running filled the room as you stepped under the stream, letting the heat wash away the violence of the night.

You hadn’t heard him enter until you felt his hands on your waist. “In-ho?” you gasped, turning to see him standing behind you, naked, water dripping down his hair.

“I told you,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

Before you could respond, his hand tilted your chin upward, and his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, his fingers tangling in your wet hair as he deepened it. You felt his other hand slide to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space between you.

“Is this your way of making me trust you?” you whispered against his lips, your breath hitching.

He chuckled softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Maybe.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Or maybe I just can’t stay away from you.”

For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the warmth of his lips, the weight of his arms on your naked body. But in the back of your mind, the doubts lingered, like a dark cloud that wouldn’t leave. As his lips trailed down your neck, you fought to push the thoughts away, telling yourself you could question him later. You really wanted to argue, to pull away, but the warmth of his hands against your wet skin, the way his breath fanned across your neck, made your protests dissolve before they even formed.

“I can feel how tense you are,” he continued, his fingers tracing slow circles along your hip. “Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do anything.”

You swallowed hard, the heat from the water mixing with the heat of his touch. “I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“Yes, you do,” he countered softly, his lips skimming your jaw. “You know I’ll make you feel good. I always do.”

His hand moved lower, his fingers slipping along your thigh and feeling a slick wetness completely different from the water, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through you. “See?” he said. “Your body knows. It always knows.”

His fingers teased higher, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch. You leaned against the tiled wall for support, your knees threatening to give out. Pleasure ran through your body and you opened your eyes to stare into his dark ones as they locked on you. They broke away from you, looking down at your breasts that were cascaded in warm water before leaning down and swirling his tongue over them, his fingers still rubbing your clit.

Soft whimpers left your lips even though you tried your hardest to suppress them. You bit your tongue as he took your nipple between his teeth and bit down gently, a finger now slipping inside your wet pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet praise. “So beautiful. So perfect for me. Your body is a masterpiece.”

Your head tipped back, water running down your face as his fingers found your sweet spot, the pressure just enough to make you gasp. “In-ho,” you breathed, your voice trembling with equal parts of protest and need.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his free hand moving to cradle your face, tilting it toward him. “I won’t let you fall. Just trust me.”

He moved his hand back down to your breast, kneading it as you involuntarily arched into his touch. A small smirk played on his lips and he leaned down, placing a kiss on yours. Another finger found its way inside your pussy, as his thumb skillfully rubbed your clit, increasing your pleasure. His fingers curled, and he used his free fingers to gently pinch and pull on your nipples as you tried to stop the soft moans from leaving your lips.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch unrelenting, and the praise spilling from his lips only heightened it. “That’s it my good little girl,” he coaxed, his lips brushing against yours before capturing them fully, swallowing the sounds that escaped you.

His kiss was possessive, almost desperate, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hearing you but him. His fingers thrusted faster inside you with an expert rhythm, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and intoxicating. “So perfect, every part of you. All mine.”

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as an orgasm built inside you. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Let me see you cum, just for me.”

His fingers went faster and your body gave in, the release was swift and all consuming, leaving you trembling and moaning his name in his arms. He held you close, his hands steadying you as your breathing slowed.

“See how good that felt?” In-ho murmured, his lips curving into a small smile. “It can get even better.”

A flicker of shame passed through you, how could you let him do this, knowing what was happening just outside these quarters? The chaos, the danger, the people you had left behind. But the moment his hands trailed down your waist, firm and grounding, the doubt began to dissolve.

“In-ho,” you whispered, though your voice betrayed you, shaky and soft.

“I know angel,” he said gently, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But don’t think about anything else right now. It’s just you and me here. No one else matters.”

Before you could reply, he dropped to his knees. The sight of him kneeling before you, his dark hair dripping with water, made your breath catch.

His hands found your thighs, spreading them slightly as his lips pressed kisses on your pussy. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Let me show you.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands as his lips engulfed your throbbing clit. He worked with slow, deliberate care, his mouth trailing heat over your pussy.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, his breath warm against you. “So good for me. You always are.”

His tongue flicked over your clit fast, better than your fingers or anyone else could ever feel on you. He licked from your entrance back up to your clit, swirling his tongue and suckling like a starved man.

Your grip in his hair tightened as a low sound escaped you, and he let out a quiet chuckle, clearly pleased with your reaction. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

For a moment, all thoughts of the world outside were forgotten. The only thing that existed was the feel of his lips and the steady stream of praise falling from them.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice reverent yet commanding. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

He ate you out like he had something to prove. Like he was showing you that no one else could care for you so much that it reflected in how they pleasured you. His tongue slipped inside your pussy, thrusting gently as you shivered and let out soft whimpers that made his dick hard. All that clouded your mind now was his tongue, exploring every inch of your needy, quivering pussy, licking up and down and slurping on your clit.

Your grip in his hair tightened again as your breaths turned shallow, your body trembling under his touch. He moved with such precision, as though he knew exactly what your pussy ached for. The sound of the water cascading around you only heightened your senses, every touch, every flicker of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Come on sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, rumbling praise that sent a shiver up your spine. “Just cum for me. Be good for me.”

Your fingers clenched in his wet hair, and your body obeyed, your orgasm spilling over as the pleasure became too much to contain and you squirted in his mouth.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your clit one last time before he stood, his hands trailing up your sides to pull you against him. You could feel the strength of him, solid, grounding you as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands sliding down to your hips. “See how good I can make you feel?” he murmured against your lips.

Before you could respond, he turned you gently, guiding your hands to brace against the tile as the warmth of the water poured over you. His lips found the curve of your shoulder, trailing kisses along your neck as his hands explored your wet, naked body.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “I won’t stay away from you, you know that?”

As his hands gently groped your ass, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you. His breath was warm against the back of your neck, his words soft but full of lust. “I need to fuck you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“Please- please do,” you whimpered.

You could feel the way he was responding to you, his cock against your ass telling you everything you needed to know. Your pulse raced as you gave in to the moment, not wanting to fight the pull between you. You both let out low moans as he entered your tight pussy from behind, halting for a second to give you time to adjust to his sheer size. He was so thick, stretching and filling you in ways you knew no one else could.

He began steadily rutting into you, the sound of skin slapping amplified by the water making him chuckle lightly. His lips pressed against your neck as your pussy gripped his cock like it never wanted to let him go.

His voice was a little hoarse as he whispered, “You feel so fucking good.”

His hands shifted, one sliding around your neck, the pressure just enough to make you gasp. You leaned into it, feeling the pleasure rise inside you. With every thrust, he took his time, drawing out each moan, each squelch of your pussy that sent your heart racing.

He looked down at your ass bouncing against him, and you swore his cock throbbed inside you. With his hand still around your neck, the other reached in front, rubbing rough circles on your clit as his cock hit your g spot repeatedly.

“Relax,” he whispered softly. “I’ve got you. Cum on my cock.”

His words, his touch, it was all part of this undeniable force pulling you closer, and you gave in, your pussy soaking his cock buried inside you, surrendering to the moment, feeling more alive than you’d ever thought possible these last few days.

After drying off, the steam from the shower clung to your skin. The mirror fogged up just a bit from the warmth, but it only added to the intimacy of the moment. His hands gently cupped your waist as he stood close behind you. You could see his reflection in the mirror, his gaze intense as he met your eyes through the glass.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his breath warm on the back of your neck. His hands traced your sides slowly, memorizing every curve, every inch of you. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to protect you.”

The words made your chest tighten, a mix of emotions swirling within you. You’d never felt so seen, so cared for, as if everything about you mattered to him. He continued, his voice low, full of reverence, “You’re my priority. I would do anything for you. No one else matters but you.”

He stared at you in the mirror as his hard length entered you again. He moaned into your ear, the deep sound going to your pussy and making it throb as he began fucking you again. Your mouth fell open, the intimacy of the moment sending ripples of need through you. His large hands cupped your breasts, groping and tweaking your nipples as you met the roll of his hips, fucking him back as he pounded your pussy.

The mirror reflected the way his eyes softened as they traced your brown skin, his admiration for you evident in the way he held you. He kissed your shoulder, your neck and then your temple, the feel of his lips on you making you shiver.

“No one else matters. They don’t fucking matter, only my pretty little angel,” he murmured

With every thrust, he showed you just how much you meant to him, his actions speaking louder than words ever could. You could feel the care, the devotion, and the unwavering desire to be close to you, to cherish you in some lowkey sick and twisted way. It was a rare and overwhelming feeling, one that made your heart race and your pulse quicken.

“Every.part.of.you,” he murmured, thrusting with word, his lips brushing against your ear, “is.perfect.to.me.”

You couldn’t hold on much longer. He was right at the edge waiting too. Your hand reached behind him, bringing his head down to suck on your neck, his eyes still locked onto yours in the mirror as you squirted on his cock. Your pussy drenched him, your juices trailing down your thighs and his as you convulsed with him still inside you.

“That’s my good girl, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, deep inside this tight pussy. Take it for me sweetheart,” he groaned.

He let out a deep, guttural moan and you hummed in content, feeling his hot load fill you to the brim.

As your highs passed, you could feel the air between you slowly easing. His lips brushed against your temple, soft and tender, grounding you. His voice was gentle but firm, “I’m here. It’s just us now. That’s all that matters.”

His words were soothing you in a way that only he could. With delicate care, he cleaned you up, his touch surprisingly gentle despite everything that had just happened. Then, he led you to the bed, helping you lie down as he dressed you slowly, making sure you were comfortable.

“You’ll get all the answers you need,” he said quietly, his hand brushing a strand of your curls away from your face, “in due time. Just trust me. Be patient.”

You let out a soft breath, not fully understanding everything, but something in his words made you want to believe him. Trust. What a word. It was so simple yet so heavy. Could you really place it in his hands, when everything else felt so uncertain?

You looked up at him. “Trust,” you echoed, “you’re really good at making that sound easy.”

He returned your smile, though it was tinged with something darker, something unreadable. “I don’t need you to trust me now. Just know I’ll never let you go.”

[catchastarorten]

—Hair tie

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x lover!fem!reader

Summary: why hunt down his own hair ties when he could just steal yours instead?

Content: fluff, kisses, no games au, Dae-ho being a hair tie thief, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: ~ 0.9k

The drawer was almost empty again.

You frowned, pulling it open further, as if the motion would magically summon the missing hair ties back into existence. But no, there were just two lonesome bands left. Your favorite blue one—gone. The black one that never snagged—gone.

You always kept your hair ties in a little wooden drawer, nestled among your earrings. But now, as you reached for one to tie up your hair with before washing your face, you only found there were two left.

You were meticulous about these things, always buying extras and keeping them in neat little rows. And yet, they seemed to vanish.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You figured you might’ve misplaced them or accidentally lost a few. But then, you saw him—Dae-ho, the sweet, clingy man you adored—sitting on the couch with one of your black hair ties securing his messy ponytail.

You stared for a moment, confused. “Is that… mine?”

Dae-ho looked up from his book, his lips parting slightly as he realized what you were pointing at. Then he grinned sheepishly. “Oh… yeah. I couldn’t find mine, and, well, yours was just there…”

“Dae-ho!” you laughed, more amused than annoyed. “You could’ve asked.”

“I was going to put them back,” he said, looking so guilty you almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course I’d notice. My stash is gone because of you.”

He frowned softly, putting the book down and opening his arms, as if begging for a hug after being scolded by you.

His hand reached up to tug at the tie in his hair, looking up at you as you made your way over to him with a small sigh. “Do you want this one back?” he asked softly, worried you might actually be upset at him.

You shook your head as his arms wrapped around you, unable to resist when he started spreading little kisses on your forehead and temple. “No, you can keep it.” you hummed.

From that moment on, it became a habit—one you found a bit endearing, if you were being honest. Whenever Dae-ho needed a hair tie, he’d raid your wooden drawer without a second thought.

Sometimes he tried to be sneaky about it, but he wasn’t exactly subtle. You’d catch him rifling through your things, his broad shoulders hunched like a child caught stealing cookies.

Other times, he didn’t bother hiding it at all, simply plucking one from the drawer with a soft grin and a quick kiss on your lips—then a kiss on your face, as if that would make you forgive him. And it always did.

He didn’t mean to always steal your hair ties, not really. It was just... easier for him to snatch one from the drawer than to hunt down his own.

You didn’t really mind. Not on most days, anyway.

One evening though, you did need a hair tie—desperately.

You were halfway through making dinner when a gust of wind from the open window sent a strand of hair into your face. Cursing under your breath, you tucked it behind your ear, only for another strand to escape. The kitchen was too hot, the recipe was more effort than you’d anticipated, and your hair, usually manageable, felt like an uncooperative child refusing to behave.

“Dae-ho!” you called, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his expression somewhere between apologetic and guilty, as if he already knew what you called out to him about. His hair was tied back, as usual, and you could see one of your missing hair ties keeping it in place.

“Yes... love?” he asked, his voice so soft and warm it nearly melted your resolve.

“I need a hair tie,” you said, folding your arms. “And it seems you’ve taken all of mine.”

He blinked, then glanced down at his wrist. You hadn’t noticed before, but he had a spare hair tie looped around it—your hair tie. Without hesitation, he pulled it off and handed it to you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Here,” he said. “I always keep an extra for you. Just in case.”

For a moment, you were too stunned to speak. You stared at the hair tie in his hand, then back at his face. He looked so earnest, his eyes warm and full of love. It wasn’t just that he had thought to keep a spare for you—it was the fact that he had done it so naturally, so effortlessly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, even if he had taken it from you in the first place.

You took the band, your chest tightening with a wave of affection. He stepped closer to kiss the top of your head, his arms looping around your waist. “Don’t be mad. I love you.” he murmured softly, his nose buried in your hair as he nuzzled against you.

“I love you too, you thief,” you muttered, though there was no bite to your words. How could there be, when he was wrapped around you like that? Adorable and impossible to be mad at.

[baeshijima]

being married to duke!blade is a feat inconceivable to many.

overseeing the northern region where monster outbreaks are high and temperatures are low, he is feared by many for not only his undeniable battle prowess, but also his cold and dismissive demeanour. from all the stories and rumours passed down from those who battled alongside the duke, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say his mere presence alone is sufficient enough to take on an entire army.

but despite his infamous personality, the young duke had made rounds within high society when he first showed his face. he was handsome, having that rugged appearance expected of a blood-soaked warrior residing on the battlefied, yet beautiful with a haunting allure — those crimson-marigold eyes of his can simultaneously bewitch an unassuming victim and bring the most prideful of monarchs down to their knees.

and, as expected of someone with such descriptors, many of the nobility found themselves drawn to him in spite of the rumours which clung to his very being. noble ladies wished to be the first he ever danced with, while many families seeked to gain even a morsel of his power through arranged marriages. relentless as they were, none succeeded in swaying the stone-cold duke.

and stone-cold he was upon your first meeting, albeit in… less than fortunate circumstances.

having meandered around the foresty northern borders not too far from where your family estate is, you certainly were not expecting to stumble across a rotting corpse smack-dab in the middle of your path! okay, well, rotting may not be the most suitable term, but the slumped body, battered and bruised and bloodied, you accidentally kicked was very much a corpse.

you had contemplated leaving the body there but, upon seeing a bloodied insignia of an all-too familiar ducal household, you decided you wanted to live a little longer. of course, this led to you lugging a slumped, muscle-packed warrior of a man all the way to where your estate was, heaving and huffing with your body trembling under the weight.

(to say you were just about ready to collapse when the family knights spotted your emerging figure was no understatement!)

whisked away into a guest room near your own, your parents called for the family doctor immediately. when the blood was cleaned and his wounds were wrapped, the sight of his injuries mending themselves was sure to be a sight you would never be able to rid your mind of. it was a strange but intriguing phenomenon to see his skin stitched anew, that horrid sight of him collapsed in the forestry almost like that of a dream.

your father immediately sent word to the duke’s estate to notify them of the circumstances. in the meanwhile, the man of the hour was unconscious for three days. seeing as how you were the one to find him, you took it upon yourself to help look after his well-being. changing his bandages, regularly wiping the accumulating sweat with a freshly damp cloth, ensuring the room is well-ventilated — you did the lot!

(sometimes you would stare at his resting face, wondering just how much more handsome he would be with his eyes open; only to retract that sentiment when recalling the tales about how his eyes could burn a man alive. exaggerated or not, he is still a dangerous individual you would rather not further entangle yourself with.)

with his people having retrieved their master from your care, promises of hefty compensation for taking care of their lord ringing in your ears, you were ready to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug and never get yourself involved with a man like him again! after all, he is the fearful duke responsible for your region, while you’re just another noble within his domain.

so, naturally, when you first heard of your soon-to-be marriage, you thought your parents did something to offend him and were sending you as a sacrifice meant to appease his wrath.

because, well, why else would the very same duke infamous for having zero interest in romantic and political marriages be sending a letter for your hand in marriage of his own accord? being unconscious the entirety of the time made him unable to see you, let alone know your family, so of course that meant his staff had filled him in on what happened. but why would he initiate this proposal without even knowing who you are first???

(did you get a say in this? no. would you have refused? yes. did your parents care about you and your well-being? aside from their apologetic gazes at your slack-jawed reaction and somewhat rational reasoning of “his grace may have an infamous reputation, but he is not a cruel ruler nor man,” you would like to deny the parental affection they have given you thus far in favour of objecting the claim.)

well, no matter. there was little time to prepare for his arrival to your estate, as the letter stated he would be arriving to escort you himself.

after much fuss over your clothing and luggage, the day arrived; you were going to see him again, except this time, he would see you as well.

a regal carriage entered the estate’s gates. the door swung open. a black gloved hand was the first to appear, followed by a ducked head of long navy hair, a familiar figure donning a freshly pressed suit and black overcoat, and finally — finally — a pair of burning crimson-marigold met your own gaze.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of your fight or flight response kicking in or the butterflies which ruptured within you that caused your heart rate to increase, but you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

he stopped in front of you, the features you once saw up close felt more complete than ever with the addition of his eyes open.

and thus, with your palm settled atop his outstretched gloved one, your fate was sealed.

(man. was this the compensation the staff were saying to you as they left…?)

that was two years ago.

savage. cold-blooded. inhumane. brute. monster. these were some of the ways in which duke blade was described. the man who currently sits on the edge of the bed watching you dress his wounds, however, is much different than the public opinion.

ever since exchanging vows at the altar and slipping sacred rings of matrimony onto each other’s fingers, you have come to know many sides of blade you never thought possible.

and while he rarely spoke in the beginning, his actions spoke louder than any voice could ever hope to measure up to. and, eventually, he became more vocal in regards to his feelings for you, just as you have with yours upon witnessing firsthand his true character.

from his battle-haggard, near manic state when on the verge of succumbing to the curse before falling into your healing embrace, to his tender fleeting touches and ever-adoring affection repressed within his gaze when in the presence of others, you have seen it all.

the process of getting to know and understand the intricacies of his life is almost like unravelling layers upon layers of thin bandage wrapped tightly around a gaping wound, hoping to block out the vulnerabilities which could be exposed. it was rocky at first, you being in an unfamiliar environment while he had his own inner battles to deal with first and foremost, but time carved its path for the two of you to partake in talks lasting late into the night, a subtle fondness growing more pronounced as familiarity grew alongside it.

and, of course, the time he returned from a subjugation battle-worn and mind having been overriden with mania. it was the first you’d seen him in such a loss of control. knights were rushing to subdue him while the servants desperately tried to usher your bewildered form some place safe, as though this had been a common occurrence well before you came into the picture. that hadn’t gone as planned, however, as the moment blade’s heaving figure locked eyes with you, a state of chaos ensued the moment he broke through the wall of knights with ease and appeared in front of you. no time was wasted when he lunged, a panic chorus of cries following suit as you remained rooted in place.

while you would never forget the blown-out, near-animalistic look in his eyes as he drew closer at an impossible speed, the gentle — almost reverent — manner in which he embraced you then, rigid body instantly relaxing against you, would forever be the turning point of your relationship, as well as a long-cherished memory of his first true feelings.

a dull sensation poking the space between your brows snaps you out of your thoughts. “stop frowning. i’ll be fine like always.”

your hands pause in their ministrations, hovering over his bare torso where you finished tying up a bandage. a blink and a sigh, another swab of disinfectant is in your hands working at the wound on his bicep.

“but that doesn’t mean i like seeing you return to me wounded,” you mutter bitterly, blatantly ignoring his stare. “i know you can take care of yourself, what with that regenerative ability of yours, but i still worry over you. you can still feel the pain, after all, and not to mention that curse—”

a swift tug forward abruptly cuts you off, your words fizzling on the tip of your tongue as a familiar warmth encases you in its entirety. instinctively, your hands grip onto his shoulders, the coarse material of bandages not unfamiliar to your touch, while blade’s hands are splayed across the expanse of your back as he holds you against his seated form.

his nose nudges along the slope of your neck, the shape of your jaw, the contours of your face, a trail of soft kisses leaving searing imprints in its wake.

a deep breath, a ticklish sensation, a thrumming heartbeat.

and when he rests his forehead against your own, crimson-marigold eyes dyed with devotion and seeping ardour, you think the world will be okay.

(even if it were to burst into flames and be reduced to ash, if it means you would be by this man’s side for a little longer, you think it will be okay.)

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ playing dangerous ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ player 177. your assigned number. the three digits stitched in stark white thread on the coarse forest-green tracksuit now clinging to your body. you didn’t remember putting it on. you didn’t remember anything between falling asleep in your cramped apartment and waking up in this sterile, alabaster void. the tracksuit was loose in some places, tight in others, the fabric rough against your skin, a similar sensation for the discomfort that had settled deep into your bones.

˚ ༘♡ the air here was heavy, oppressive. tension hung over the room like a storm cloud, pressing down on everyone in its path. you sat on the thin mattress of your cot, the iron bars of the bedframe biting into your back as you leaned against them. your throat was dry, your lips chapped, and a faint crust of dried blood clung to the edge of your mouth, an unpleasant reminder of the chaos you’d barely survived. in your lap rested a cold metal bento box, unopened. the thought of eating its contents of rubbery eggs and starchy rice, made your stomach churn. it wasn’t hunger gnawing at you but dread. eating felt like acknowledging the possibility of another day here, in this place where death lingered so close you could almost taste it.

˚ ༘♡ death. it wasn’t something you’d ever had to think about seriously before. you were young, healthy enough, aside from the occasional winter flu. life’s struggles had been mundane, bills, work, nothing quite noteworthy. you’d thought financial trouble was the worst of your problems. how naive that seemed now. the sharp crack of gunfire still rang in your ears, and the memory of bodies crumpling mid-run played in an endless loop in your mind. every scream, every desperate gasp for air as life left someone’s body, was etched into your mind.

˚ ༘♡ this wasn’t life. it was survival, twisted into something grotesque. children’s games weaponized against desperate people for the amusement of others, with the promise of money as bait. one hundred million won for every life taken. your own life, reduced to a figure on a balance sheet. you’d survived the first game, the horrifying version of red light, green light, but at what cost? surely, after witnessing such carnage, the others would have voted to leave. you’d been certain of it. but the desperation was stronger. greed was stronger. most players had chosen to stay, ignoring the horrors of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ “the next game,” player 456 had said, “will be cutting shapes out of dalgona candy. pick the triangle. it’s the easiest.” his voice had carried a strange conviction, and he claimed to know these games intimately, even to have won before. but how could you trust him? maybe he was lying, or maybe it didn’t matter. maybe none of you were meant to leave this place alive.

˚ ༘♡ “hey, 177!” the crude voice shattered your thoughts, dragging you back to the present.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced up to see player 230, “thanos,” as he called himself, sauntering toward you. his garish purple hair stood out like a bruise against the sterile backdrop, and his brightly colored nails flashed as he gestured. he’d painted them to match the infinity stones, leaning fully into the nickname he’d given himself. behind him, player 124 followed, all sharp angles and slicked-back hair, his grin as eager and sly as ever.

˚ ༘♡ “why didn’t you vote for one more game, huh?” thanos sneered, his voice laced with mockery. “you had no problem playing foul last round.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, rising slowly to your feet. “you and i both know it was an accident,” you replied steadily. “everyone was running for their lives. i didn’t block your way on purpose. we both finished in time, didn’t we? no harm done.”

˚ ༘♡ he rolled his eyes, his expression exaggerated and spontaneous. “yeah, sure, whatever. typical cold-hearted bitch behavior.”

˚ ༘♡ player 124 cackled at the insult, his laughter harsh and grating. “that’s right. cold, stuck-up bitch,” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn.

˚ ༘♡ their taunts were designed to provoke you, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. your hands curled into fists, but you forced yourself to relax them, forced yourself to breathe. these two thrived on conflict, and the best thing you could do was walk away. you turned on your heel, ignoring their shouts, and started to move toward the far corner of the room.

˚ ༘♡ “hey! i’m talking to you!” thanos barked, stumbling after you with heavy, uncoordinated steps. he didn’t get far. player 001 stepped into his path, his expression stoic and unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t you boys have any respect?” player 001 asked, his voice quiet but firm. there was something about him, an emanation of authority that made everyone within earshot pause.

˚ ༘♡ thanos bristled, his arrogance faltering for just a moment. “mind your own damn business, old man,” he snapped, jerking forward.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 didn’t flinch. when thanos lunged at him, the older man moved with startling precision, sidestepping the punch with ease. he grabbed thanos by the wrist mid-swing and twisted sharply, forcing a guttural yelp from the younger man as his knees buckled. with a swift motion, player 001 yanked him forward and drove an elbow into his chest, the dull, cracking impact echoing in the room. thanos collapsed onto the floor, clutching his ribs and coughing violently.

˚ ༘♡ player 124 scrambled forward, his face twisted in fury. “bastard!” he yelled, charging with reckless abandon. player 001 turned just in time, catching the younger man by the collar and using his momentum against him. a sharp twist and a well-placed shove sent player 124 sprawling into the edge of a nearby cot, the metal frame rattling as he hit it with a thud.

˚ ༘♡ the fight wasn’t over. thanos struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain and rage. “you’re gonna regret that, old man,” he spat, lunging again. this time, player 001’s response was more deliberate. he ducked under thanos’s wild swing, stepped inside his reach, and delivered a devastating blow to his lower torso. the younger man doubled over, gasping, before player 001 swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

˚ ༘♡ not finished, player 124 staggered up again, charging at player 001 with fists raised. the older man sidestepped and grabbed player 124 by the arm, wrenching it behind his back and forcing him to the ground with a hoarse cry of pain. he planted a knee firmly against player 124’s spine, holding him there as the younger man squirmed and cursed.

˚ ༘♡ thanos, blood now trickling from his nose, crawled toward his friend, wheezing apologies and swearing obscenities all at once. player 001 released player 124 with a shove, stepping back as the two younger men lay crumpled together on the floor.

˚ ༘♡ the room was silent, every player watching in stunned awe. then, slowly, the silence broke into cheers and clapping. player 001 straightened his posture, his expression as calm and inscrutable as ever. without a word, he turned and walked back to where player 456 and a few others were gathered, leaving the two troublemakers to nurse their wounds.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, then followed him. when you reached his side, you spoke softly. “i wanted to thank you, sir. if you hadn’t stepped in, they wouldn’t have stopped harassing me and disturbing the peace. you’ve done us all a favor.”

˚ ༘♡ player 001 turned to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded. he said nothing, his expression unreadable. there was something deeply weary about him, a weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. his posture was rigid, his face lined with exhaustion, and though he was relatively handsome, it was the kind of masculine appeal eroded by time and hardship.

˚ ༘♡ you wondered what had brought him here, what had led him to the point where he’d chosen, or been pushed into, to enter this place. you didn’t ask. prying into his past would be an impolite gesture and an indignity for what he had done for you.

a/n: my first squid game fanfiction! i definitely want to write more for hwang in-ho in the future so let me know if you have any requests! 🤍