#that part about them makes my heart ache lol
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pinkykoo · 3 days ago
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Jungkook fic recs
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these are my favorite fics on this app, some make me laugh and kick my feet, some make me wet my panties, there are also some that make my tummy hurts but not much because i'm weak and can't stand angsty fics:(
enjoy<3
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i'm going to start with my favorite writers, i actually like all of their works (go take a look at them) but the ones on this list have a special place in my heart</3
@girlygguk <3
-no in that way-| a s f | one-shot
in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.
-needy-| s f a | series
hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.
-denial- | f s a | series
you and jungkook both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's mad.
-first class- | f s a | one-shot
in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.
@awrkive <3
-cold nights and blurred lines- | f s | one-shot
jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
-the love prognosis- | a f s | series
for as long as you can remember, you��ve always been a hopeless romantic.
the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
@springalwayscomes <3
-closer- | f a s | series
To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.
@hoseoksluna <3
-wine- | s a f | series
both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.
@noteguk <3
-bad influence- | s a f | series
in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.
@gukslut <3
-cream & sugar- | s f a | series
stepping into this coffee shop was either the best or the worst idea of your life. You know that barista, you know he’s great in bed. You also know he’s the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.
-every kinda way- | s f | one-shot
three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK.
-the jorts- | s f | series
jorts, you, jk, love, lol.
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more (very good) fics from different writers:)
-the lucky one- | a s f | series-ongoing by @babystrcandy <3
growing up you only had one goal: beat Jeon Jungkook. Sometimes you'd win, other times you'd lose. Sometimes he'd lose, other times he'd win. But you'd both walk away from the match thinking the other was the lucky one.
-cable management- | s c f | series by @19pancakes <3
your job is more hassle than it’s worth. Horrible layouts, even worse cable management and to top it all off... There’s extremely rude (and hot and weirdly cool?) men staring at your ass in the hallway. You’re also hungry.
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english it is not my first language (maybe you noticed, lol) sorry in advance if there are any mistakes:b
I will add more over time, bye. xoxo
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spidrgirl · 2 days ago
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅
RANDOM MILES MORALES HEADCANONS:
Masterlist: here ➼
Pairing: Miles Morales x fem friend he has a crush on! ᥫ᭡
Synopsis: headcanons of Miles and a girl he's friends with, but also has a teeny tiny crush on.
Genre: fluff/friends to lovers (lol, can you tell that this is my fav trope 😜?)
Word count: idk
Authors note: I made these headcanons with a fem! Reader in mind, but I think most of these are gender neutral.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅
➳ Miles texts you throughout the day, even about the smallest details, needing to feel connected even when you're apart. When you don’t respond immediately, he starts second-guessing himself, checking his messages over to see if he said something wrong, worrying you might be upset with him.
➳ Every time you two part, he lingers, hands fidgeting or glancing back at you with a soft look. Sometimes, he even comes up with the smallest excuses—"I forgot to tell you something" or "Do you need help carrying anything?"—just so he can stay a little longer.
➳ Physical touch is everything to him. Even the lightest brush of your hand is enough to set his heart racing. He quietly aches for you to touch him more, but he's too nervous to ask, scared of seeming too needy or crossing a line.
➳ No matter what he's doing, if you call or text, Miles immediately stops and responds. He could be in the middle of training or just trying to relax, but your messages are his priority. You can't help but remember that one time when he was texting you back while mid-mission, and it just proves how much he needs to feel close to you.
➳ After a late-night patrol, he often lies awake, replaying the last time you were together in his mind. He wishes he could talk to you, even if it’s just in comfortable silence. Sometimes he even imagines what it’d be like if you were there, lying next to him, sharing everything he’s been holding inside.
➳ Sitting in silence next to you on lazy afternoons is one of his favorite things. He’s content just being near you, but the urge to confess his feelings bubbles up more strongly in these quiet moments. He bites his tongue, afraid that telling you might change what you have.
➳ When you’re talking, he holds your gaze, completely captivated. Even in casual conversation, the way you look at him grounds him. It’s like he's the only one you’re seeing in that moment, and he feels an overwhelming warmth from it.
➳ Miles checks in with you constantly. Even if it’s a small “you good?” or “need anything?” he wants to know you're okay and feels a sense of purpose in being there for you.
➳ He loves catching subtle traces of your scent on his clothes after you've been together—it makes him feel closer to you when you're not around, like he's carrying a part of you with him.
➳ If you’re watching a movie or sitting together, he’ll lean in closer than necessary, just to be in your space. There’s a comfort he finds in those moments that he can’t quite put into words.
➳ Miles remembers even the smallest kind words you say to him, and they replay in his mind like a cherished memory. When he's feeling low, he holds onto those words, letting them remind him of his worth in your eyes.
➳ Every accidental touch—your hand brushing his, your shoulder against his—he holds onto them, wishing they’d last just a little longer. Sometimes, he leaves his hand where it is, silently hoping you'll reach out again.
➳ As much as he admires your strength and independence, there's a part of him that yearns for you to need him, even if just a little. It’s not that he wants to change you, but being the one you rely on, even briefly, fills him with a quiet pride.
➳ He's always seeking your validation, not only because he values your opinion, but because your approval brings him a sense of security. He might even agree with things he doesn’t totally believe in, just to feel more connected to you.
➳ Even though he tries to play it cool when you call or text, his heart races. He'll act casual, but deep down, your attention is everything to him.
➳ Sitting close to you feels like it's never enough. He wants more time with you, more connection, but he’s scared of coming on too strong and pushing you away.
➳ He loves those rare, late-night conversations that go on until the early hours. When they end, he’s left with a quiet longing, wishing he could hold onto those moments forever.
➳ Sometimes, without realizing it, Miles can be a little overbearing in his need to help you. He’ll offer to carry your things, walk you home, or do tasks you didn’t ask for, just to feel useful to you.
➳ His biggest fear is that one day you’ll move on, and he’ll just be a memory in your life. It’s a thought that keeps him awake some nights, silently hoping he’ll always have a place in your world.
➳ If he senses you’re upset or distant, he tries even harder to be there for you, even if it’s just in small ways, like sending a meme or giving you a small gift. He wants to remind you that he's still around.
➳ Miles asks you questions about your day, your thoughts, your feelings—he just wants to know you better and to feel closer to you.
➳ Arguments or disagreements with you make him uneasy. He’ll often apologize first, even when he’s unsure of what he did wrong, just to make sure things are okay between you.
➳ If he notices you’re upset, he goes into “protector” mode, wanting to fix the situation and be the one to make things better, even if it’s beyond his control.
➳ If a day goes by without seeing you, he’ll often send you a random meme or a quick message, just to re-establish contact and let you know he’s thinking about you.
➳ He subtly frames conversations in ways that might lead to you complimenting him or showing him affection. He craves your reassurance but tries not to make it too obvious.
➳ When you’re together, he unconsciously leans into your space—his knee brushing yours, his arm near you. He might not ask for more, but his body language shows just how much he wants you close.
➳ If you start talking about someone else, especially another guy, he’ll find a way to steer the conversation back to the two of you, needing your attention on him, if only for a moment.
➳ There are times he feels so vulnerable around you that he wants to confess everything, but he holds back, afraid of losing what you already have. Instead, he stays quiet, holding onto those feelings in silence.
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oshiawaseni · 2 years ago
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“Are you alright? Can you stand up?” The day Katsuki upheaved the status quo!
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These panels of Katsuki learning Izuku was the only person still unconscious and fighting through pain and restraint to see him are honestly among my favourite Katsuki scenes and it was probably right here when I first realised how deeply he cared for Izuku and when the reality of this ship really hit me. 
Something so fundamental had changed in him. It was like he had fully accepted Izuku into his heart, accepted his feelings for him and no longer wanted to leave his side anymore. These hospital scenes perfectly encapsulate how much he now loved and valued Izuku. 
Ever since the moment he thought he might lose Izuku, Katsuki became overwhelmed with urgency to be by his side and to apologise for everything but Izuku was in a coma and so Katsuki had no outlet for those feelings. He expressed his worry for Izuku with anger and feral rage, it didn’t take much to look past that. All I could see was his love. It truly was the birth of a new Katsuki. Except rather than new, it felt more like something long buried was waking inside Katsuki that had simply always been there. 
Sadly, these renewed feelings towards Izuku he was finally embracing were only met with Izuku running away from own feelings towards Katsuki, leaving them behind in a bid to not bring Kacchan more pain from getting involved in his fated fight against AFO. When actually... it was far more painful for him that Izuku left him behind... 
Bkdk’s feelings for each other, that should be bringing them closer together, sadly have a tendency to tear them apart. It’s a recurring dynamic of theirs. AFO using Izuku and Katsuki’s feelings of closeness with one another to punish them and physically ripping them apart as a result of those feelings is another huge example of this. And then there is the river incident.
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There is kinda an uncanny parallel that can be found between this scene and Katsuki’s hospital scenes when he finds out Izuku can’t stand up. Izuku responds to Katsuki’s distress with kindness, and Katsuki responds to Izuku’s distress with anger... but what’s at the very core of both reactions is unmistakeably the same...
Katsuki fell in the river and was so moved and intimidated by Izuku’s kindness, he didn’t know how to process that feeling. Take this exact scene they had, but place it in another manga. It’s actually what should be the beginning of falling in love with someone, not pushing that person away. I think that is why Katsuki’s mind often goes back to this scene. 
While he is regretting his actions from this point on in their history, I think he also came to realise that his love for Izuku started right there, in that river. It was the moment Katsuki acknowledged Izuku’s kindness and strength that is different from his own… though cherishing Izuku and his caring, gentle heart only really caught up to him when they made it into high school together, somewhat cleared up his misunderstandings and grew close again.
This is a major reason why I think these two will be the canon couple. It’s clear as day that they both love each other to pieces, but the way they’ve handled this love for each other has been so repeatedly bad. Even fate doesn’t allow them to discover how much they both affect each other. It has me believing in the day their feelings will connect and this pattern of running away from what’s right in front of them will at long last come to an end. That they’ll open their hearts to one another, feel what they each want to give and accept it completely.
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earthtooz · 1 year ago
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Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
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x : DISTANCE :*+゚
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
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Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.” 
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 
“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs. 
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  
“Which was?” 
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 
“I love you, Wriothesley.” 
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 
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*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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thebearer · 5 months ago
Text
love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three
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prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.
or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)
contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+
“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 
Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 
“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 
Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 
“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 
“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 
You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 
“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 
You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 
“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 
You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 
Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 
“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 
“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 
“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 
MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 
Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 
Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 
You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 
Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 
The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 
“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 
You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 
Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 
Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 
“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 
Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 
You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 
“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 
You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 
Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 
You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 
“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 
Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 
“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 
“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 
Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 
“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 
“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 
“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 
“-No, no, I swear-” 
“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 
Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 
“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 
“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.
 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 
“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 
“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 
“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 
“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 
“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 
“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 
“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 
Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 
“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 
“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 
Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 
“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 
“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 
“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 
“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 
You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 
“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.
“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 
“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 
“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 
“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 
“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 
“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 
Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 
“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 
“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 
“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 
You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 
Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.
“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 
Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 
“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 
Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 
Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 
You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 
Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 
Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 
“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 
“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 
“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 
“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 
“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 
The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 
Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 
Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 
“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 
“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 
You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 
“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 
You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 
Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 
“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 
You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 
Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 
His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 
Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 
“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 
Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 
“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 
Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 
Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 
Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 
Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 
“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”
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msmk11 · 3 months ago
Text
Best Friend's Mom Part Four
MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Word count: 5.5k
CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, mentions of food, angst, smut, cursing
Summary: You've finally confessed your feelings to Wanda. Will she reciprocate them? If so, what happens next? And what'll happen if she rejects you? Anything could happen.
A/n: Fourth and FINAL part is here! (I lowkey wrote most of this today so I hope it's good lol!) Anywho, I'd just like to thank y'all for loving this story as much as I have. And, if you're sad that it's over, never fear! Because of all your love and support, I've decided to do something special that you can check out here. Happy reading!
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“Well, do you?”
The question hangs in the air between you and time has completely stopped. You hold your breath and your heart beats so rapidly in your chest that you’re certain Wanda can hear it. 
Your instincts tell you to run, to avoid what you fear most.
Rejection. 
But for once, you’re brave. You stay put and hold eye contact with Wanda. It’s her that breaks first. 
“My simple answer is yes.”
All of the air rushes back into your lungs and you dispel a long sigh of relief.
“But,” she adds, “I’m hesitant to say anything else because we both know that nothing about this situation is simple.”
You nod, and this time your sigh is a little more dejected. 
“Yeah, I know.”
You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs, “It sucks. This whole situation is shitty. If only you weren’t my best friends’ mom, and I wasn’t in college, and we didn’t have to hide.”
The silence is thick, weighty with the words left unsaid- the words that neither of you want to vocalize. To vocalize them would be to admit to reality, and the small glimmer of hope still left would be shattered. To put it all into words would also force you to call this thing between you and Wanda what it is- a fling. A word that, right now, disgusts you to your core. A fling- the concept and word itself so casual when nothing about what’s happened between you two has been casual at all. You and Wanda had not casually fucked, casually cuddled, or casually made out. In every interaction with Wanda, there was always something deeper simmering just below the surface. There was an understanding of each other’s lives and struggles, tenderness, only found in a familiarity by association, and a deep love for each other, not even in the romantic sense, though you guess a hint of that existed as well, but in a sense of gratitude. Your shared compassion for the twins, and the undoubted affect you’d each had on them brought you two together in an indescribable way. Though you hadn’t known it yet, you and Wanda’s souls had been intertwined by destiny, forever attached by the two who brought you together in the first place. 
Therefore, to treat this connection between you two as so much less than it deserves makes you not just just angry or sad but bitter. Nothing about it is fair. You deserve more, sure, but it’s Wanda that deserves everything good. After all that she’s been through, she’s maintained a heart of gold, and your heart aches to know the pain she’s being put through yet again.
But you can’t hide forever, and Wanda finally admits what you can’t. Won’t. 
“I think,” Wanda says, hesitating, “that we have to accept that this is as good as it gets.”
It stings, Wanda’s confession, the truth smacking you square in the face. Housed within these walls is a beautiful utopia that you and Wanda have escaped to. It’s been sweet, and raw, and vulnerable, and now it’s all crumbling down. In no world would you and Wanda ever have been able to be together in the way you both wanted. There were the boys to think of, and your future, and the life Wanda had created for herself. Neither of you wanted to risk the happiness of the other for a potential shared happiness. 
“I’m afraid that if we tried to continue what we have going now, everything would fall apart, and I’d come to resent you. And I don’t want that, Detka. For me, or you, or Billy and Tommy,” Wanda adds softly, “So let’s just enjoy this while we have it, and make the most of our time left.”
Tears sting your eyes and so much pressure has built in your throat that you can’t speak. You only nod at Wanda and her gaze, somehow, softens even more. 
“Baby,” she whispers hoarsely. In seconds she’s pulled you into her arms, wrapping you so tightly in her warm embrace that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You nuzzle your face into her neck and try to take deep breaths, hoping that her scent will calm the raging storm in your head. She rocks the two of you back and forth slowly, and you can’t tell if it’s more for her or for you. 
“Wanda,” you call out, and your voice cracks pitifully.
“Shhh, don’t” the redhead answers, her voice similarly thick with emotion. 
You bury your hands in her shirt and grip it tightly, trying to hold on to something when everything else around you is slipping away. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the sob that racks your body. 
Wanda doesn’t say anything, she just presses a tender kiss to your head. And when you feel a few teardrops fall onto your hair, you don’t mention it. 
“I know it’d be hard, but what do you think about pretending, for just a little longer? I mean, we’ve been doing it this long, so what’s one more day?” she murmurs into your hair. 
You pull away a little, craning your neck up towards Wanda with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, “Yeah, yes. Please. I’d really like that.”
She smiles fondly at you, “Good. Now let’s wipe away these tears.”
She ever so gently untangles an arm from around you and thumbs away the residual wetness on your cheeks, “There we go, all better.”
Her hand traces down your cheek and cups your jaw. She pulls you in and places a tender kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and tastes a little of the salty tears you’d both just shed. Instead of the hot spark that usually shoots through your body when you kiss Wanda, an overall warmth spreads through your body from your head all the way down to your toes. It makes your stomach ache, not with sadness but rather an all consuming happiness. You’re sure that any moment you’ll burst into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 
*****
The last day and a half of your spring break trip is bittersweet. Though you try to stay present, any time Wanda is around you can’t help but think about how each interaction with her may be your last- your last kiss, your last secret glance, or your last inside joke. To know that the end of something is coming before it ever actually happens is maddening, and you swear that you can hear a clock slowly ticking down to zero as each minute passes. Around the boys especially you don a mask of joviality even though internally you’re floundering. As you go about your day there’s a perpetual ache in your chest and a lump that never seems to leave your throat. 
Maybe it’s because you’re desperate to slow down, or maybe it’s because you’re so caught up in your head that it passes quickly, but before you know it, time has slipped through your fingers and it’s already Friday evening. It’s late, and the boys are off in their room packing their bags. Desperate to hold on to the last little bit of your trip left, you decide to leave the packing for tomorrow morning and instead lay on the couch listlessly scrolling through channels on tv. You can’t help wondering where Wanda has wandered off to, but you know that if you go looking for her, you’ll only end up in a puddle of tears. 
At some point in your scrolling you end up on an old sitcom- The Dick Van Dyke Show. You’ve never really watched it before, but something about it instantly catches your attention. The simplicity and domesticity of it all soothes you and your brain finally begins to quiet down. 
“Did you know that was my favorite show as a kid?” 
You look up at Wanda in her long gray tee shirt and leggings, hair pulled back into a low pony, “Really?”
She joins you, sitting on the arm of the couch, “Mhmm. When things would get bad back home in Sokovia, my mom and dad would always put on old sitcom tapes to distract my brother and I. I liked all the ones they showed me, but The Dick Van Dyke Show was always my favorite. Still is.”
A warm smile graces Wanda’s pretty features as she reminisces to you about her childhood and your heart feels so full that she’s chosen to share parts of herself with you. 
“I’ve actually never seen it,” you say, “but I just came across it now, and I instantly felt…”
“Calmer?”
“Mhmm.”
You both silently watch the show for a few minutes, and though you’re tempted, you don’t once glance at Wanda. It’s a true demonstration of your willpower because Wanda is so, so tempting. You desperately wish to pull her closer, to hold her, touch her, and kiss her. But if you let yourself give in, you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop. Being around Wanda is addicting and you long to taste her over and over again, to get drunk on her, even if you’re bound to waste away after. 
You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t notice Wanda slowly slipping off the arm of the couch onto the seat next to you. It’s only when she basically crawls into your lap that you look away from the tv, startled. She’s on her knees, legs tucked beneath her, and she rests her hands on your thighs. Her face is so incredibly close to yours that with even the slightest movement, your lips would touch.
Her green eyes search yours intently, “Detka, I was thinking…”
She pauses, and you can’t help but quickly peck her lips to encourage her to keep talking. The embarrassed smile that forms on her face also makes you scream internally. 
“I’d really like to take you out on a date, baby. Just one. Before everything… ends.”
You squeal quietly and jump onto her, knocking her backwards onto the couch. You pepper kisses all over her face and she grabs your hips, giggling quietly. 
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Oh my god Wanda, duh!”
And then more quietly and seriously you say, “I’d really, really like that.”
A hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and she guides you to her lips, kissing you sweetly. You suck gently on her bottom lip and try to ingrain into your mind the pretty little sighs she releases. When you pull away, you watch as her long eyelashes flutter open and admire the soft look in her green eyes. 
She squeezes your side playfully, “let’s go Detka, we have a date to go on.”
You sit back on your heels to give Wanda room to sit up, “where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Now go get your shoes.”
You obey her immediately, plopping down onto the hardwood and slipping on your tennis shoes. When you’re ready to go, she grabs her keys off the kitchen table and quietly ushers you out to her small black sedan. You’ve yet to ride in Wanda’s car, the boys usually driving, and it’s nice. With black leather seats and wood trimming, you feel like you’re living in luxury. The car, somehow, smells like her too, and you feel blissfully pampered and mindless strapped into the passenger seat of her car. 
She starts the car and rolls down the windows. You pull out of the driveway and speed off down the coastal highway, the radio softly playing in the background. The air is warm, but the wind is cool on your skin and you can smell the salt in the air. Your hair whips around wildly in the breeze, and you know that it’ll look a mess the rest of the night, but you can’t find it in you to care. Though you still have no idea where Wanda is taking you, by the direction you’re going you can at least guess that it’ll be somewhere in town.
While you’d be happy to go anywhere with Wanda, you’re extra thrilled when she pulls up to the local ice cream shop. Your sweet tooth aches with excitement and you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt. You go to open your door but Wanda reaches out to stop you, “Wait! I wanna get it for you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks and you’re so awestruck by how sweet and wonderful she is. She hops out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. When you climb out you give her a peck on the cheek, “what a lady you are, Wanda. I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”
The redhead wraps her arm around your waist and tucks you into her side. It’s the most public you two have ever been and the thrill secretly excites you. 
She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, “You deserve only the best, Detka. I hope you always know that.”
She’s being too sweet to you, and it’s making you all shy, so you tuck your head further into her side to hide your face. She chuckles lightly and squeezes your waist, guiding you two over to the counter to order. 
Wanda orders two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a cup and you do the same, though with chocolate ice cream. All of the seating at the shop is outdoors, so you two find a table off to the side in a secluded corner. You cuddle up on one bench, legs tangled together and shoulders touching. The treat is sweet on your tongue and you moan softly at the taste.
“Good?” Wanda asks in between bites of her own ice cream.
You nod, “Very. Yours?”
She scoops a bit of the ice cream onto her spoon and lifts it towards you, “try?”
You eagerly accept her invitation and wrap your lips around the spoon. It’s tangier than your chocolate, but still good. You swirl it around your tongue, savoring the flavor as Wanda watches you with curious eyes.
“Mhmm, I like that too. Still prefer mine though,” you say with a small smile. 
“Well good, because you’re not getting any more of mine anyways,” the redhead answers with a wink. 
You roll your eyes teasingly and happily take another bite of your own ice cream.
“Oh, wait? Do you want to try mine?”
Before you can offer Wanda a spoonful of the chocolate, she reaches out and swipes her thumb across your lips. When she pulls away there’s a little chocolate on her skin and she slowly sucks it off, “Mhmm, tastes good, baby.”
This alone causes your brain to turn to mush and so you just stare at her, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed. 
Wanda doesn’t attempt to hide her smirk at your dumbfounded expression, “love when you get all dazed and pretty like this, Detka.”
Your gaze drops to your ice cream and you mumble about how she’s a tease. 
She lifts your chin so that you look at her again, “You know you love it.”
“Not when we’re in public!”
Wanda hesitates for a moment, the wheels in her brain turning, before she asks, “wanna go make strawberry-chocolate ice cream in the car?”
*****
You're outside the door to the house and you and Wanda are giggling like schoolgirls as she fumbles with the keys. 
“Shhh, Wanda, be careful. We don’t want to get caught!”
“Sorry, I just can’t get my hands to work,” she answers, giggling again. 
You grab her hands and still them, looking at her gently, “here, let me do it.”
You take the keys from her and easily insert it into the lock. It clicks open softly and you motion for Wanda to go inside first, you following close behind her. Wanda stands by the door slipping off her shoes and grabs your shoulder as she nearly falls over. You grab her waist, steadying her, “careful, love.”
She smiles at you sheepishly while she casts her other shoe aside and you take a moment to admire her windblown cheeks and messy hair. You brush a strand behind her ear and her eyes flutter close at your touch.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
You and Wanda freeze, and a rock settles in your stomach. When you turn around, there stands Billy and Tommy in the living room, mixed expressions of confusion, anger, disbelief and betrayal written all over their faces. 
“Guys, it’s-” you begin, your voice shaking.
“Not what it looks like?” Billy scoffs, “because it looks like you can’t keep your hands off my mom.”
“Billy, wait,”
“Tell us what the fuck is going on right now,” Tommy interrupts. 
You barely spare Wanda a glance as you make your way into the living room. She hesitantly follows behind you. 
“Uhm me and Wan- your mom- we’ve been…” 
What are you supposed to call this thing you and Wanda have been doing?
“Seeing each other,” she finishes. 
Billy eyes you two’s disheveled appearances with disgust, “seems more like you’ve been fucking each other!”
“Billy!” Wanda says sharply.
“What, Mom? I’m gonna call it as I see it, since you two don’t seem inclined to tell the truth.”
You can already feel your lip beginning to quiver but you ignore it, “That’s not fair. Please, just listen for a second.”
“Not fair?!” Tommy protests, “What I think is unfair is that my mom and best friend have been lying to my face so that they can sneak around and fuck. I mean, god. That’s disgusting. Mom- she’s our best friend and you,” he points his finger aggressively towards you, “going after our mom? That’s really fucking shitty.”
A tear unwillingly escapes your eye, “But it wasn’t- it’s not like that. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It just did.”
“So you just fell into each other’s beds?” Billy asks, sarcasm thick in his voice. 
“That’s not what she means, Billy,” Wanda answers solemnly. 
“What she means is that it all just happened so suddenly, so organically. We were just drawn to each other, and that’s not in our control.”
“But your actions are. You could’ve resisted. Instead, you were selfish.” 
You’re entirely sympathetic to the twins’ pain and anger. This comment, however, riles you from your sorrowful stupor. 
“Selfish? You���re calling us selfish? You don’t even know what you’re talking about, Billy! Wanda and I have done nothing but think about you both the entire time. You want to know what we did yesterday? We decided to completely end things after this trip because we wanted to protect you two from our dumb decisions. Wanda and I agreed that even though we both have feelings for each other, your lives and feelings are far more important. This is one of the first really good things that’s happened to both of us in a really long time, and we gave it up for you. So you can sit here and call us stupid, or liars, or traitors, but don’t sit here and call us selfish.”
After your outburst, the room goes completely and utterly silent. Your panting hard and your hands are shaking as you watch so many emotions play out on your best friends’ faces. You glance at Wanda and the sight before you breaks your heart. At this moment, she looks so totally and utterly miserable. Silent tears are streaming down her face and her eyes dart anxiously between her two boys. Guilt pools in your stomach and you can’t help but feel that everything is your fault. Had you never been a part of their lives, nothing would be ruined and Wanda, Billy, and Tommy could’ve been a perfect, happy little family.
You sigh heavily and look at the three people you care about most, “Look, I’m sorry. I-”
“Just, stop talking,” Tommy says, interrupting you again, though this time his voice is a little less harsh.
“You, you said that you have feelings for my mom?”
“Yeah, yeah” you answer, vigorously nodding, “I care about her so much.”
Billy looks at Wanda hesitantly, “And you feel the same way?”
Although she’d just confessed her feelings yesterday, a small part of you fears that she’s changed her mind, or maybe even lied. You chew on your lip anxiously, awaiting her response with bated breath. 
Instead of answering Billy and Tommy directly, she turns and looks straight at you, “Yes. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”
You know your eyes are shining thick with tears and you give her a great big wobbly smile. 
Billy sighs, rubbing his face roughly, “And you make each other happy?”
Simultaneously you and Wanda answer yes. 
“Then who are we to get in your way?” Tommy replies, shaking his head.
You gasp quietly and turn towards the twins, hope bubbling up in your chest. They still don’t look totally okay, but the small, tired smiles on each of their faces tells you that they will be in time.
Wanda makes the first move, walking towards them both and cupping each of their faces, “You really mean it moya lubov? Because I stand by what I said, the happiness of you two will always be the most important thing to me.”
Any residual tension in the faces of your two friends fade under their mother’s touch.
“Yeah, mom. We mean it. We just want you to be happy.”
Tommy looks at you then and raises his eyebrows sternly, “And I swear to god, if you hurt her.”
You let out a watery chuckle, “I won’t. I promise.”
“And you,” Billy says, looking to his mom, “if you hurt her?”
Wanda turns and looks at you softly, “I could never.”
Then at the same time Billy and Tommy say, “okay.”
*****
When everything has settled, you and Wanda find yourselves alone yet again. Though there’s still so much new ground to navigate between you, Wanda, and the boys, you can’t ignore the unbridled happiness overwhelming your senses. You and Wanda look at each other with the biggest, goofiest smiles on your faces and you jump into her arms.
Reminded once again how strong she is, Wanda catches you easily and you wrap your legs around her waist. She presses a heated kiss to your lips and you encourage her, arms circling her neck. Somehow while still kissing you, she makes her way down the hall to her room. When she steps inside she kicks the door closed and carries you to the bed. Wanda throws you down on your back gently and then climbs on top of you. She kisses you a few times on the lips, and then the neck, before trailing her hands lower to the hem of your shirt. She makes eye contact with you, seemingly asking if she can take it off, and you nod aggressively. She chuckles lowly and grabs your shirt. You stick your arms out as she pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere across the room. You shiver, and you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air, Wanda’s gaze, or her burning touch across your stomach- probably all three. 
“So beautiful, baby,” she mumbles, placing kisses at your collarbone and then slowly trailing down to the valley of your breasts.
You moan at her featherlight touches, but you still need more. Wanda seems to read your mind as she slides her hands underneath you and unclips your bra. Your nipples are hard from arousal and the cold air and Wanda moans at the sight. She surges forward and takes your left nipple into her mouth, sucking softly at the bud and letting her tongue roll casually over it. Her hand stimulates your other tit, groping and pinching it lightly. She alternates, so that both get their fair share. When she pulls away she plants a kiss on your panting lips before moving downward to the lower half of your body. She pushes your knees up, so that your feet lay flat on the bed, and your legs spread for her. You look down at her, her eyes full of lust and cleavage on display as she bends towards your pussy, and you moan. She places kisses and bites across your calves and then thighs before tugging off your shorts and then grabbing your underwear, pulling it tantalizingly slow down your legs. 
All of it’s painfully hot, and you're desperate to tell Wanda to move faster- but you know better than to rush her.
Wanda gasps as she throws your panties aside and eyes your pink, glistening folds, “such a pretty pussy, and all for me.”
You hum, “yes, only you Wanda.”
“Good,” she answers, patting your thigh. She moves back up your body and kisses you, though  one hand travels down between your thighs. Lightly, she places pressure on your clit and rubs slow, soft circles. The only way to describe the sensation is white, hot pleasure and you cry out- luckily into her mouth. As her mouth migrates down your body, so do her fingers. They dip into your outer folds and tease your hole with your gathered wetness. As she sucks on your nipple yet again, one finger slides slowly into you and you let out a loud moan, “Oh Wanda, that- that feels so good. Please.”
“You’re doing so good for me Detka”, Wanda praises, “So tight and warm.”
“Th- thank you Wanda. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat as she thrusts her finger in and out of you slowly. 
Wanda then inserts a second finger, stretching you wider. It’s a little painful, but it feels so good you don’t mind.
As you writhe in pleasure, you watch Wanda. Her long, red hair falls over her shoulder as she bends down to suck a hickey onto your neck. Her face is flushed and her green eyes are lust-blown. As Wanda’s hand continues to pound into you, you reach out and pull Wanda away from your neck. 
“Wanna touch you Wanda,” you say breathlessly. You pull her in and kiss her lips roughly again. One hand stays in her hair and tugs at her red locks while the other wanders down to grope her tits. She moans into your mouth and her fingers falter for a second at your touch. As you continue your ministrations on her clothed breasts, Wanda adds a third finger and you nearly see stars. Desperate for her own release, she begins to hump your thigh as she fingers you. Observing her pleasure nearly sends you over the edge. 
You beg Wanda to stop for just a moment so that you can slip off her shirt. You unclasp her bra and grunt at the sight of her naked tits. Wanda continues to pound into you and your legs tighten around her hand. As she humps your leg, you watch her beautiful tits bounce and the way her head is thrown back in a fit of pleasure. The image of Wanda before you sends you over the edge, finally, and your stomach muscles clench. You cry out loudly and moan Wanda’s name over and over as you finally come. Your body shakes with pleasure and you really do see stars this time. When you come down from your high, you are panting heavily. Wanda is still chasing her own, and you can tell she’s getting close. You grip her hips and stop her, “Don’t want you to cum on my thigh, Wanda.”
Suddenly, you flip her onto her back and straddle her.
“Drawer, Detka, look in my drawer,” Wanda breathes out desperately. You reach over her and open the top drawer on the left. Inside is a pink strap-on.
“You want me to use this, Wanda?” You ask seriously. 
“Please, please fuck me baby,” she answers huskily. 
You stand from the bed, Wanda groaning at the loss of your touch, as you step into the harness and tighten it against your skin so that it bumps your clit a little. When you crawl back onto the bed, you grab the hem of Wanda’s pants and yank them down. Then, you grab her lacy black underwear and pull that down too, revealing her pussy to you. You moan loudly and instantly surge forward, licking a line up her slit. She tastes so sweet, and you want to eat her out so badly, but you decide to save that for later. 
“Please, Detka. Don’t tease me,” Wanda orders. 
You nod and do as she says. You line the tip of the dildo up to her entrance and tease her folds. She moans softly and grabs your waist. Then, slowly, you slide inside her. She’s wet enough that there’s not much resistance, and when your hips meet hers you pause. 
Wanda sighs out, “So big. Feels so good, baby. So full of you.”
“Anything for you Wanda. Your pretty pussy deserves everything,” you whisper in her ear as you thrust your hips for the first time. The squeal she lets out sends you into a frenzy, and quickly you are pounding into Wanda at a rapid pace. She’s only letting out a series of moans, whines and squeals and it’s so incredibly hot. You suck on one of her nipples and play with the other till she is writhing underneath you. When you get her close, you move down a little and throw her legs over your shoulders, allowing you to lift her hips off the bed and drill into her at a deeper angle. You know you’ve found her g-spot by the way she lets out long, loud moans, and you muffle her mouth with your lips so that Billy and Tommy don’t hear. With one final thrust, Wanda’s eyes roll into the back of her head and her back arches into you, tits touching. The moans of your name light a fire in your stomach, and the added stimulation of the strap on your throbbing clit sends you over the edge a second time. You both cum together before slowly coming down from your high. You’re left panting as you collapse on top of her, the dildo still inside.
As you start to recover, Wanda slowly starts stroking your sweaty hair away from your face. You smile against her chest and place a soft kiss there. 
“That was really good, Wanda. Thank you.”
Wanda only lifts your chin and smiles at you before she locks your lips in another kiss- this time more sweet and tender. 
*****
The time you’d been dreading the entire week- saying goodbye- has finally arrived. While it once left you sick with dread, now it doesn’t seem so bad. The fact that you and Wanda aren’t saying goodbye forever certainly helps. Wanda’s in the kitchen sweeping out the sand and you and the twins are packing up their car with your bags. You were nervous this morning that they’d act weird around you now that you’re with Wanda, but they’ve been fairly normal besides the occasional dark jokes here or there. 
When the last of your stuff is loaded into the car, the three of you make your way back into the house. 
“Mom? Want us to take your bags out to your car?” Tommy asks, swiping a banana off the counter. 
She smiles sweetly at him, “yes, please. Thank you.”
You give Wanda a wink and begin to follow after the boys when she calls out, “wait, Detka. I need your help.”
Billy mockingly gags and you roll your eyes at him before trotting obediently back to Wanda. 
“What’d you need help with?” You ask her eagerly.
She peers over your shoulder, making sure the boys aren’t in sight, and then grabs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a kiss. 
You can’t help but smile against her lips, and when you pull away you chuckle.
“Was that it?”
She hums contentedly, “though I think I need one more for good measure.”
“I’m here to serve,” you tell her teasingly, kissing her again. 
“Nope! No! Okay, that’s enough you two,” Tommy declares as he comes back into the kitchen, “Jesus, I’m gonna throw up.”
You both have the decency to look sheepish and say, “sorry!”
He sighs, feigning annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now come on, we gotta get back to school.”
Billy joins you all in the kitchen, “Yep, we gotta go, so no more public indecency, please.”
You snort a little and slap his arm lightly, “shut up.”
He gives you a pointed look and then goes up to hug Wanda, “Bye Mom. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
She hugs him tightly and kisses him tenderly on the forehead before taking Tommy into her arms, “Goodbye, moya lubov.”
Then she says to both of them, “You let me know when you get back safe. I love you!”
“Love you too,” they both say at the same time, heading towards the door.
Tommy looks at you, “you coming?”
You nod, “Yep, be right out in a second.”
When they’re gone you don’t say anything to Wanda, you just pull her into a tight embrace. 
“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” she tells you.
You pull away and admire her pretty features one final time before you have to say goodbye.
“Okay, Wanda. I’ll see you soon.”
She smiles warmly at you and kisses goodbye, but not, you happily note, for forever.
************************************************************************
Tag list: @xenaizogie @alexawynters @eclipse727 @idkwhatever580 @opp-jumpscare @starynn @alessiaswifey @noturlondonboy @chickenlittlsblog @lizzieolsen89 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @wandasdove @unity-rae @traveler-at-heart @wandasreallover
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dearsnow · 5 months ago
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TOO SWEET
- you discover that you mix a little too much sugar into your relationship, and jake seems to believe that he’ll turn everything sour. (jake seresin x fem!reader, angst, jake being an asshole when he thinks he’s making the right decision but what’s new, i had a real fun time writing the description ⚠️ drinking)
PART 2
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word count: 785
a/n - angst city is back !! and yes there are parallels bc i’m in a parallel mood so yeah some lines are very very similar to each other. hope you guys enjoy, even though my first hangman-centric fic is a sad one lol. based on “too sweet” by hozier <3
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You press your palm to Jake’s face, feeling his stubble rough against your soft skin. “You’re amazing.”
He has a pool stick in his hand, one that he sets down to pull away from your touch. Your face flushes as he takes your hand in his own and places his pool stick in your other, motioning for you to take a shot. “You’re too sweet, darlin’. Let’s prove to Chicken over here that you can be tough, too.”
“Too sweet” is something he’s called you more than once. You suppose it is true, with your gentle and kind demeanor. You just can’t help wanting everyone to be happy.
Jake Seresin is pretty much the opposite of that. He intentionally upsets people with a smile on his face, content in riling them up, and fond of perpetuating rivalries. No one ever understands why you’re attracted to him, especially not the other daggers.
You see the side of him that he rarely ever shows. The one that’s kind and caring, that understands when he goes too far and reels his aggressive personality back to shore. When he kisses you on the cheek or places his hand on the small of your back, you feel it too.
So, when he pulls you to the side of the Hard Deck, you assume he’s just going to give you another drawling compliment and skirt his hand between your shirt and the soft skin of your waist. You certainly don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next.
“Hun, I think we need to stop seeing each other.”
Your heart stops dead in its tracks. “What?” You borderline squeak. No, this can’t be happening. Everything was so perfect just moments ago, and now the look on his face makes you want to cry. It’s laden with sympathy.
He holds your hands with gentle fingers. “You’re too sweet, baby. I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I mean, you’re way sweeter than I could ever be. You tell Rooster his shirt looks nice when it’s eye-bleeding and you mean it. I love that, I really do, but we don’t fit. We don’t make sense, and I want my relationships to make sense.”
“We do make sense.” You protest. “Opposites attract or something like that. We can make it work.”
“The thing is, we can’t. I’m gonna piss you off eventually, and you’re gonna forgive me, and it’ll just be toxic. I don’t want that for you.”
He lets go of your hands, and as the cool air hits them, they miss his warmth. His green eyes are tinged with something you could associate with sadness, just a hint of aching regret. His mouth twitches a bit, curling into his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely, if you hadn’t kissed along that same line a few nights ago. “And what about what I want, Jake? I want you. We can have a good relationship, I promise, we’ll find a way.”
“That’s what makes you so special. Your goddamn unwavering hope. I don’t want to crush that, sweet thing, but you have to know that it isn’t always going to work out.” His tone is softer now, but his words hit like the sharp end of a knife. You stare up at him, eyes watering.
“But-“
“It’s a no, baby. Just no.”
He turns, and for the first time, you don’t follow his movements. Your fists close around empty air.
It’s really happening. He’s explained how he doesn’t want you in a million honey-suckled ways, and more than anything, you just want to sink into his arms and cry. But you can’t, and you don’t. You move away, instead, out of the Hard Deck and out of his life, into the cold night air. When you reach your car, all you can do is sob into the shiny metal.
Jake watches you leave. He wants to run after you, to thread his fingers around yours and pull you into a kiss, but he can’t, and he doesn’t. It’s better for you, he tells himself. You sip on wine and fruity drinks while his neat whiskey is sitting on the bar, half-drunk. You deserve someone nicer, kinder, who kisses you goodbye and doesn’t scratch your face with stubble. He sees you lean against your car, forehead pressed to the car door, and he almost folds. He picks up his drink and turns to face Penny, who’s looking at him disapprovingly.
“I’m not good for her.” He tries to explain.
Penny sighs and reaches for the whiskey, topping off his glass. “You aren’t. I just wish you made it your problem instead of hers.”
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Taglist: @seitmai
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quintinh43 · 9 months ago
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Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes
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Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.
Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)
Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.
---
There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.
Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.
They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.
"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"
Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.
The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.
"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.
"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.
By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.
One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.
"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"
Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"
"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"
"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"
"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.
"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"
You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.
"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.
"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.
"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"
"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.
"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"
"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.
"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"
"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.
Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.
"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"
Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.
"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"
You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"
Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.
They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.
He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.
You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"
"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.
"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.
Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.
"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.
"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.
"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.
"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.
"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.
"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.
"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.
"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.
"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"
You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."
Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.
"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.
Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.
"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.
"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"
"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."
Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.
"Do we have bagles?" He asks
"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"
"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.
"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.
"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.
You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.
"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"
Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.
While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change  of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.
"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.
"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.
"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.
"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.
He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.
You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"
Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.
"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.
"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.
You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.
She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.
"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"
Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.
"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."
"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"
"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"
"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.
You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"
"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"
"Alright, bye dear."
"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.
"Y/n,"  he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?"  Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"
Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"
"He's ok?"
"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"
"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.
"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.
"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."
"Can you tell us what happened?"  Luke asks softly.
"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"
"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.
"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."
"Oh thank God"  both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.
You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."
"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.
"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."
"Always" you say softly.
"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"
"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"
"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.
You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.
"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.
"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.
"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.
"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.
"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.
"How you feeling?" You ask softly.
"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"
"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"Forever?"
"Forever."
---
Wc: 3.1k
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bluejeanstrash · 7 months ago
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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742
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a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.
‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.
you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’
‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.
‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.
‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’
‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.
‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’
you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.
‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’
‘you’re not’
‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.
‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’
‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’
‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.
‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.
seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.
it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.
‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’
‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’
he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.
‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’
‘you won’t’
‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.
you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’
you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.
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goldfades · 1 year ago
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✮ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡, jack hughes
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♡ ─ word count | 10.7k (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. UM?? MB?? got a bit carried away with this one sorry y'all)
♡ ─ summary | y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her.
♡ ─ warnings | kind of mark estapa x reader as well but guess who she chooses in the end??? unedited (i'll edit in the morning y'all i just wanna get this out ASAP) SOOO MUCH ANGST OML, childhood best friends trope, unrequited love (for the most part), description of sex (like two sentences u could blink and it's gone), lots of cursing, fighting (sm of it), asshole!jack, idk they may be more but i'm lazy (promise they're not bad if i'm not mentioning them rn)
♡ ─ taglist | @valluvsu (check link in navigation for taglist form if you are interested!)
♡ ─ ev's notes | WHOOOHOOO! it's finally done yayyaa, i got this done in like two days bc i was so excited. jack hughes is very much gold rush coded, pls argue with the wall if you disagree. but anyway! this is a long one, so strap in!!! so much feelings in one fic lol i'm done, but i'm actually very proud of myself. as always, i'm open to respectful critics as i love to improve my writing for you all!! anyways, pls enjoy this fucking novel LMAOO, and let me know your thoughts!!!
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Jack Hughes had always been the most beautiful person you'd ever seen.
Not just physically, he'd always been one of the sweetest people you'd ever met. He genuinely cared about how you were feeling and listened attentively when you spoke. His kindness and compassion were qualities that drew you to him from the very beginning.
But it wasn't just his sweet personality that captivated you; it was the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing eyes, filled with warmth and kindness. Whenever he gazed into your eyes, it felt like he was seeing straight into your soul, understanding you in a way that no one else ever had. But never in the way that you wanted.
Every time he smiled, it lit up the room any room he was in, and your heart simultaneously. His laughter was infectious, and being around him brought a sense of joy and happiness that was unparalleled.
He'd always been the special one in the room, with his skills on the ice or his undeniable beauty. It wasn't Jack's fault that he had such an effect on people; it was simply a consequence of his charm and charisma. What sometimes made you feel inadequate was the way other girls looked at him, with admiration and longing in their eyes.
Every time you saw him with those adoring eyes gazing at another girl, it was like a dagger to your heart. What hurt most though, was the way he looked back at them. His gaze held a attraction and desire that you craved, but it was a warmth he reserved for them, not ever for you.
You couldn't fault him for it; he couldn't control where his heart led him. You watched him from a distance, silently cheering him on in his pursuits of happiness, even when it meant seeing him with someone else.
Yet, despite the pain it caused you, you couldn't help but be there for him when he needed it. Whenever he faced heartbreak or disappointment, you were the one he turned to for comfort and understanding. It was bittersweet, being the person he leaned on while secretly thinking how you could never ever hurt him the way those other girls did. Your heart ached every time he told you about his the girls, and you would listen attentively, offering advice and consolation. You wanted to be the one to mend his broken heart, to make him see that you were right there, loving him in a way no one else ever could. But you kept those feelings locked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship.
And you knew he loved you, he truly did. He would just never love you the way you'd always wanted. You felt selfish for wanting more. He was already yours in some regard, others would dream of being that close to the Jack Hughes. You were already an important part of his life, someone he trusted and cared about. Being close to Jack Hughes in any capacity was a dream come true for most, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have him as a friend.
But deep down, you couldn't help the longing that tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't help the desire for something more, something that went beyond friendship. It was a complex mix of emotions, and you grappled with the guilt of wanting something that might change the dynamic between you two.
It was hard seeing him repeating those mistakes over and over again, and him running back to you wishing he had someone to love him fully and truly, for who he was. You often found yourself on the verge of screaming, wanting to shout, "What about me? Don't you see what's right in front of you?!" But you remained silent, as you always did, playing the role of the understanding friend who listened without judgment.
And each time he came to you with a broken heart, you wished he could recognize the depth of your love, the unwavering support you offered, and the fact that you were right there, ready to love him fully and unconditionally. But it seemed that he was blind to your feelings, or perhaps he was simply too caught up in his own search for love to notice what was right in front of him.
It seemed everyone else saw how much you loved him, Quinn giving you sympathetic smiles and Luke giving you advice. They saw the way you looked at Jack when he wasn't watching, the way your eyes held a mixture of adoration and hurt. They noticed how you were always there for him, ready to offer a comforting word or a reassuring hug when he needed it the most. It wasn't just your words or actions that revealed your love; it was the unwavering presence you provided in his life.
And so, you continued to sit still and listen, even when every fiber of your being screamed for him to see you, to love you, and to choose you. Your love for him remained a silent, unspoken truth, buried deep within your heart as you watched him repeat his relationship mistakes, hoping that one day, he would finally realize the love that had always been right beside him.
He was always grateful for your presence and care until he wasn't. Until he started taking you for granted, choosing his shiny new friends over you.
The pain of unrequited love was compounded by the feeling of being cast aside, as if your friendship and support no longer held the same value they once did. You couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten all the times you had been there for him, the countless moments you had shared.
It was a painful realization that the person you loved so deeply was no longer the same person who had once cherished you. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, holding onto the hope that one day he would remember the bond you had shared and the love that had always been there, waiting for him to see.
──
"Where have you been?!" Ellen, Jack's mom, exclaimed as you walked into the Hughes' lake house. She immediately walked over to you, embracing you tightly.
Over the past couple months, you had declined numerous invitations to Hughes family events over the past couple of months. You had told them that school was taking up most of your time, which was partly true. In reality, you just didn't want to see Jack.
"Just busy with school," you replied, returning her embrace warmly. Ellen Hughes had always been like a second mother to you, and her genuine concern warmed your heart.
Ellen held you at arm's length, her kind eyes studying your face. "You know, you don't have to disappear just because of school, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, no matter what."
Her words tugged at your heartstrings. You knew the Hughes family cared about you deeply, and it pained you to distance yourself from them as well. "I appreciate that, Ellen. It's just been a hectic semester, but I promise I'll make more time for you guys."
The bond between you and the Hughes family ran deep. You had known Jack and his brothers since childhood, and your connection had only grown stronger over the years. You were there for them through thick and thin, and they, in turn, had become an integral part of your life. You'd been close with the family since you were young, you'd been there for the brothers since day one.
From building sandcastles at the beach during summer vacations to sharing secrets by the campfire during family camping trips, your memories with the Hughes brothers were countless. Ellen and Jim Hughes had always treated you like one of their own, and you felt a sense of belonging that was unmatched anywhere else.
As the years passed and feelings grew more complex, you found yourself at a crossroads. You had always been there for Jack, offering your support and friendship without reservation. However, as your feelings for him had deepened, it had become increasingly challenging to hide your true feelings. You couldn't risk damaging the close-knit relationship you had with the Hughes family, especially when you knew Jack didn't share the same romantic feelings.
So, you made the difficult decision to take a step back, to create some distance in the hope that you could regain control over your heart. It wasn't an easy choice, and it meant missing out on moments with the family that had become a second home to you.
Ellen smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "We've missed you, sweetheart. And I know someone else who's been missing you too."
Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you couldn't help but wonder if Jack had noticed your absence more than you had expected.
"Luke! Sweetheart, look who's decided to show up!''
Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Of course it wasn't Jack.
Your heart sank as Luke, Jack's younger brother, bounded into the room with excitement. You were confused, you loved Luke equally as Jack (you tried to convince yourself), but Luke wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic person when it came to you. Now, you knew something was up.
"Hey, you," Luke said with a warm smile, giving you a bear hug that nearly squeezed the air out of your lungs.
"Hey, Lukey," you replied, returning his hug with a raised eyebrow. Luke's behavior was unusual, and you couldn't help but wonder if something was going on.
As Luke pulled away, he scrutinized your expression. "You've been MIA for a while. School must really have you swamped."
You nodded, not trusting your voice to betray the mix of emotions you were feeling. Luke was perceptive, and you wondered if he had picked up on your recent distance.
Thankfully, Ellen chimed in, rescuing you from the awkward moment. "Well, we're just glad she's here now! Dinner will be ready soon, so you two catch up while I finish up in the kitchen."
With that, Ellen left you and Luke alone, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Luke's sudden warmth and attention meant that something was amiss in the Hughes household.
"What's up?" You cleared your throat, looking at Luke with a knowing expression.
"Well we all know why you've been really gone," Luke sighed as he glared at you. "You don't have to cut us all of just because Jack got a girlfriend."
"Jack got a girlfriend?" That felt like a dagger to the stomach. Luke's expression, once irritated, softened into one of sympathy as he nodded slowly.
"He didn't... tell you?"
You shook your head, struggling to find your voice. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and the sting of betrayal. Jack hadn't confided in you about something as significant as this, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.
"Who is she?" you finally managed to ask, your voice a mere whisper.
Luke hesitated, as if debating how much to reveal. "Her name's Nicole," he began cautiously. "They've been dating for a few months now. It's been pretty serious, which is probably why he didn't want to... you know, complicate things."
You listened to Luke's explanation about Jack and Nicole while a storm of emotions raged within you. The pain of knowing Jack was in a serious relationship was difficult to bear, and the fact that he hadn't told you himself only added to your hurt. You felt like an outsider in his life, someone he had pushed aside.
But then, Luke's words took an unexpected turn, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But that doesn't matter now, you have to move on and I have the perfect guy for you," he said, his tone surprisingly enthusiastic.
Oh, now everything made sense. It was clear that Luke had an ulterior motive, and you couldn't help but feel a little exasperated. "Luke, I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of thing right now," you replied, trying to be polite even though you didn't appreciate the idea of being set up with one of his friends.
They were all fuck-boys from what you've heard. Luke would go into great detail every time you'd call him for an update. You had heard enough stories about Luke's friends to know that they were often more interested in casual relationships than anything serious.
"They were all fuck-boys from what you've told me," you said with a wry smile. Luke had a tendency to share his escapades in great detail, and you couldn't help but be amused by his candidness.
Luke chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, they can be a handful sometimes, but I promise this guy is different. He's actually a pretty decent guy, and I think you'd get along. Would I ever set you up for failure, Y/N?"
You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "And what's in it for you, Luke? Why are you so invested in setting me up with your friend?"
Luke's expression shifted, and for a moment, he looked genuinely serious. "Because I hate seeing you like this, distant from the family and hurting because of Jack. I just want you to be happy."
His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but soften a bit. Luke may have had ulterior motives, but it seemed that his concern for your well-being was genuine.
"And um, well, I have a thing for his cousin." Luke cleared his throat and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.
A playful smile tugged at your lips as Luke admitted his own motives. "Ah, I see how it is. A bit of matchmaking for both of us, then?"
Luke grinned, his boyish charm on full display. "Exactly! We help each other out, and everyone's happy."
You chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie with Luke. "Alright, fine Luke. Jeez, the things I do for you."
Luke laughed, appreciating your willingness to humor him. "You're the best, Y/N. You won't regret it, I promise."
──
Dinner had been ready and Ellen decided dinner would be fun outside. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the lake, and the sound of crickets filled the air as the family gathered around a long, rustic wooden table set up on the deck, the same one they'd had a decade ago, when you were children.
You took a seat next in between Luke and Jim, Quinn across from you two and Jack nowhere to be found. Before you could ask, your question was answered.
"Where's Jack?" Ellen asked as she sat next to her husband.
"With Nicole," Luke and Quinn had mumbled in response as they both took knowing glances at you. You couldn't help but sigh, would you always be known the girl who's helplessly in love with Jack?
"Wow, you really outdid yourself, Ellen with this chicken. What did you do?" You tried to change the topic with a smile, as you ate dinner.
Ellen beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased that you appreciated her cooking. "Oh, I found it on the TikTok, it was amazing and so easy! You should start making it, it's so easy for school."
The conversation shifted towards discussing recipes and school, and you found it easier to participate in the lighthearted chatter. As the evening went on, you made an effort to focus on the present moment, enjoying the warmth of the Hughes family and pushing aside thoughts of Jack and his new relationship.
After dinner, you and Quinn helped Ellen with the dishes and you found yourself in deep conversation with them. The warmth of their company, along with the shared memories and laughter, made you realize that distancing yourself from the Hughes family wasn't the right course of action. They had been a significant part of your life for so long, and you cherished the bond you shared with them.
You were so engaged in conversation that you didn't hear footsteps that entered the kitchen.
"Hey,"
The sound of the familiar voice calling out "Hey" made your heart skip a beat. You turned around to find Jack standing there, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. It had been a while since you'd seen him, and the mix of emotions stirred within you once more. And next to him, you assumed to be "Nicole." She looked sweet and you forced a smile at her.
"Hey," you replied, your voice friendly and polite as you acknowledged both Jack and Nicole. You couldn't help but notice the way they stood close to each other, the subtle intertwining of their fingers, and the affectionate glances they exchanged. It was a painful reminder of the gap that had grown between you and Jack.
"Hi, I'm Nicole," she introduced herself with a warm smile.
"Nice to meet you, Nicole. I'm Y/N," you replied, extending a hand for a friendly shake.
"Yeah, I know. These two don't ever stop talking about you." She laughed playfully and you felt heart start beating faster at the prospect of Jack talking about you to his girlfriend.
"Well it was mostly me─" Quinn tried to intervene before you laughed along with her, he was trying to soften the blow.
"Really? Well that's sweet," you replied with a warm smile, even though a small part of you wished Jack would stop talking about you to his girlfriend. It was a complex blend of emotions, wanting to be close to him but also wanting to distance yourself from the heartache.
Ellen smiled, "Well now that you're here, you all can finish the dishes and catch up,"
You nodded, "Okay, sure. Go relax, Ellen."
"Yep, and me." Before you could protest, Quinn left. He certainly didn't want to be there once you started "catching up." You cursed at Quinn in your head as he left the kitchen, alone with Jack and his girlfriend.
The clinking of dishes filled the kitchen as you, Jack, and Nicole worked together on the task at hand. You decided to break the silence with some light conversation.
"So, Nicole, how did you and Jack meet?" you asked, genuinely curious about their relationship.
Nicole smiled, her eyes lighting up. "We actually met at one of his hockey games. My friend had an extra ticket, and I've always been a fan of hockey, so I decided to go. I didn't know I'd end up meeting Jack Hughes in person but now, here we are!"
Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was a lucky coincidence. We hit it off right away."
"That's so sweet, right out of a book." You laughed and she nodded, blushing. You couldn't help but smile at their story, even though it felt like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be. You were genuinely happy for Jack, and yet, a part of you couldn't help but wish for a different outcome.
Nicole blushed at your comment, clearly smitten with Jack. "Yeah, it does feel a bit like a fairy tale sometimes," she admitted.
"So, Y/N, what have you been up to lately?" Jack cleared his throat, breaking the conversation away from their relationship. You both gazed at one another and you suddenly felt empty. It had never been like this between you two, he never asked what you'd been up to because he always known.
You forced a smile, your chest feeling heavy as you replied, "Oh, you know, just keeping busy with school and spending time with family." It was a vague response, deliberately leaving out the part about missing him. You didn't want to make things awkward, and you certainly didn't want to burden him with your own emotions.
Jack nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. "That's good to hear. School can be pretty demanding, I bet."
"Yeah, it keeps me on my toes," you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. It was becoming increasingly clear that the dynamic between you and Jack had changed, and it was going to take some time to adjust to this new reality.
Before he could respond, Luke came into the kitchen and he immediately looked like he regretted it. He forced a smile, "Um, is there any ice cream in the... fridge?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's somewhat awkward entrance. It was clear he was trying to give you and Jack some space, even though the tension in the room was palpable.
"Luke, you know where the ice cream is," you replied with a knowing look, amusement dancing in your eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I just... thought I'd ask," Luke stammered before quickly retreating from the kitchen, leaving you, Jack, and Nicole alone once more.
As the last dish was placed in the drying rack, you couldn't help but glance at Jack, his profile highlighted by the soft kitchen light. He turned to you with a smile.
"Anyways, Trevor and Alex are coming tomorrow, you excited to see them?" Jack added with a friendly tone, trying to bridge the awkward gap that had formed during your conversation.
You nodded, appreciating the effort he was making to include you despite the new circumstances. "Yeah, it'd be nice to catch up with them. I haven't talked to 'em in a while."
All three of you exited the kitchen and you went to go find Quinn to give him a lecture. That was until you felt your phone buzz with a text message,
luke my friends are here they wanna meet u
Before you could type your answer, Luke gave you another text.
lukejack and his gf aren't here. just come 😑
You rolled your eyes at his attitude and quickly went to go find him and his friends. You quickly found them by the pool and you opened the sliding door, his friends whipped their heads to take a look at you.
"Hey, Luke," you greeted him with a smile, momentarily ignoring the curious glances. "You wanted me to meet your friends?"
"Well you said yourself you wanted to meet 'em earlier," Luke nodded and you got the memo.
You nodded and smiled, deciding to go along with Luke's plan. After all, it was a chance to distract yourself from the complicated situation with Jack and his new girlfriend. Luke's friends seemed friendly enough, and you were always open to making new acquaintances.
"I'm pretty sure you've met Ethan and Dylan before,"
You nodded politely. You had met them when you had helped him move in a few months ago and they were nice enough. "Yeah, nice to see you guys again."
"Yeah, you too." They replied in union, making you laugh.
"And this is Mark," Luke glanced knowingly at you and you instantly knew that this was the guy who had developed a crush on you.
When Luke introduced Mark, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his friends' expressions. It was clear that Mark's crush on you wasn't a well-kept secret among their group. You offered Mark a friendly smile, wanting to make him feel comfortable despite the awkwardness of the situation.
"Nice to meet you, Mark," you said, extending a hand for a handshake. "Luke's told me a lot about you guys."
Mark's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he shook your hand. "Yeah, he's talked about you too."
Luke sat back down and you took a seat next to him, right across from Mark. "Oh does he?" You teased him.
Luke, attempting to play it cool, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just mentioned how nice you are, no big deal."
Ethan and Dylan exchanged knowing glances, trying to suppress their laughter. It was evident to everyone at the table that there was more to Luke's mention than he let on.
"Nice?" You couldn't help but laugh and exchange glances with Mark, a grin on his face. He was cute, you had to admit that. He was exactly your type, he looked sweet and had a cute smile. Maybe Luke was a pretty good matchmaker, so far.
"Yeah, he told us how cool you were. And then he showed us your instagram and all of us fell in love," Ethan mentioned, quickly pausing and glancing at Mark before continuing. "Well not in love but we all thought you were pretty. Well, I mean you are but like-"
"I get it," You laughed at his nervous rambling. You took another glance at Mark and gave him a smile, his cheeks turning even redder (somehow).
The table erupted in laughter, and it was clear that everyone was having a good time. Even Mark seemed to have settled into the friendly atmosphere, and you couldn't deny the chemistry you felt with him. It was lighthearted and fun, a welcome distraction from the complicated feelings you had for Jack.
As the night wore on, you noticed that Ethan, Luke, and Dylan began to exchange glances and sharing quiet conversations. It was clear that they had some sort of plan in mind, and you couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. You decided to play along, knowing that whatever they had in store was likely meant to bring you and Mark closer and anything would help to make you forget about Jack.
"Hey, Mark, do you want to check out the lake?" you suggested, giving him a sweet smile. The lake house had always been a place of fond memories for you, and it would be a great opportunity to spend some time alone with Mark.
Mark's face lit up. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea, let's go."
You excused yourselves from the table, and as you walked towards the sliding glass door that led to the lake, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous smiles on Ethan, Luke, and Dylan's faces. They were clearly up to something, you tried to ignore their expressions.
Once outside, the two of you made your way down to the edge of the lake. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting a romantic glow.
"So, Y/N, tell me more about yourself," Mark began, his voice soft and inviting.
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth in the cool summer night air. "Well, there's not much to tell, really." You chuckled before continuing, "Just trying to finish up school and move to Europe."
Mark's eyes widened with curiosity. "Europe? That sounds amazing. What's drawing you there?"
You gazed at the shimmering reflection of the moon on the lake, lost in thought for a moment. "I don't know, these past months have been hard. And I never thought about moving out of the states but recently, I just wanna let go and start fresh, you know?"
Mark nodded, understanding what you meant. "I get that, a change of scenery can help with that feeling."
You sighed, feeling a sense of relief in opening up to Mark. "Exactly. I just want to explore new horizons, experience different cultures, and maybe find a new perspective on life."
"I've always wanted to go to France, I know it's basic but I heard they had good hot chocolate and had to try it." Mark smiled down at you and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.
"That doesn't sound basic at all," you replied with a grin. "I would love to visit France, even if it is every person's dream."
Mark chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "Maybe we can both make our way to Europe someday. Who knows, our paths might cross in a cozy café in Paris."
The idea painted a vivid picture in your mind, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility. "That sounds like a dream."
A sudden breeze began to pick up and you felt yourself shiver and Mark noticed. Without saying another word, he took off his jacket and quickly wrapped it around your shoulder.
It was a cliche, you know that. But as you looked at Mark, you felt a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the jacket. His kindness and consideration made your heart skip a beat, something you hadn't experienced in a while. You smiled at him gratefully, the cool breeze forgotten as you were wrapped in his warmth.
"Thank you, Mark," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, under the moonlight by the lake, you felt a connection that was unlike anything you had experienced in a long time.
Mark smiled back at you, his eyes holding a glint of something more. "Anytime, Y/N."
As the night wore on, your conversation with Mark flowed effortlessly, you found yourself drawn further into Mark's world, and the thought of Jack and his complicated situation faded into the background even if only for that night. In Mark's company, you were starting to feel a glimmer of hope for the fresh start you had been yearning for.
──
You awoke with the sound of laughter. Your eyes opened groggily and you felt your back scream in pain and it took a minute to realize exactly where you were.
You laid on Mark's chest, a blanket laid out on the both of you. You were on the couch and the memories of last night quickly flooded back into your head.
"Aww, Marky, you got yourself a girlfriend finally!" Ethan exclaimed as Mark tried to cover your face with the blanket, an (failed) attempt to not to wake you. They hadn't noticed you were awake.
"Ha ha ha, so funny." Mark mumbled in false amusement as he yawned.
You decided to remain quiet, pretending to still be asleep, curious to hear how Mark would handle the situation. A smile stretched your lips as you continued to eavesdrop.
"Seriously though, Mark, she's pretty," Dylan chimed in. "You two looked really cozy last night."
"Yeah, yeah," Mark replied, his tone still somewhat defensive. "We were just talking. You guys are reading too much into it."
"Sure, Mark, whatever you say," Ethan teased, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Just talking, my ass."
"My clothes are still on, right?" Mark groaned quietly. "Could you guys be quiet, she's sleeping."
"Awww, Marky!" Ethan let out a booming laugh and you took that as your cue to 'wake up.'
You let out a yawn and pushed down the blanket from your face and they all quieted down. "Good... morning?"
"You have a good sleep last night?" Ethan teased and you tried to ignore the warm feeling in your cheeks as you got up from the couch. Mark frowned as you got up, feeling his body get cool.
You stretched your arms and stifled another yawn before responding to Ethan's teasing. "Yeah, it was quite comfortable here, actually."
"I bet," Ethan replied as he wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.
"Okay, well, I'm going to brush my teeth."
"Wait, let's go eat first." Mark quickly replied, making Dylan and Ethan exchange glances.
"Before... brushing my teeth?" You smiled at that. He was cute, for sure.
"Yeah, Mark, let her go brush her teeth. Knowing what you two did-"
"Shut up," Mark groaned as you let out a chuckle. "Yeah, go brush your teeth."
You nodded and walked away from the living room, quickly ascending up the stairs and into the bathroom. The smile hadn't left your face and you felt like absolutely nothing could ruin your mood.
Well, you were wrong.
As you brushed your teeth happily, you heard the familiar noise in the next room other. The rhythmic banging, the moaning─
Oh no, you thought to yourself. You felt your stomach twist in disgust as let out an audible gag. The room next to the bathroom was Jack's and the only couple in the entire house was Jack and Nicole. You connected the dots and you suddenly felt nauseous.
You spit your paste and quickly rinsed your mouth. You needed to get out of there immediately. As you walked out of the bathroom, you bumped into one person you did not want to see.
"Oh shoot, sorry."
You looked up to see Nicole. She looked tired, her red hair messy and her neck filled with marks. They were obviously busy last night and you tried to push the visual of them having sex out of your mind as you forced a smile. "No, you're totally good."
She smiled and gave your shoulder a pat before walking to the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and let your shoulders fall as you walked down the stairs.
You smelled hash browns in the air, your favorite, but somehow you still felt sick to your stomach. The imagery was still stuck in your head, you felt disgusting.
You made your way to the dining table and took a seat next to Quinn, crossing your arms and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your disgusted facial expression, your annoyed attitude, everything.
"They're like fucking bunnies," Quinn mumbled to you and you looked back at him with a nod. He looked tired, too. It looked like they kept him up and you were suddenly grateful you slept downstairs, even with the ache in your lower back. He put a hand on your shoulder in comfort. "Hey, if it makes you better, he lasts about a few minutes. You wouldn't want that."
His unusual teasing tone still didn't make you better, you knew Quinn was trying his best to make you feel better. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah. That's gross."
"What's gross?"
You turned your head to see Jack; his disheveled appearance making you gag internally, knowing what you know. You made eye contact for a few seconds before averting your gaze to the table.
"Nothing, buddy." Quinn responded with a smirk and they both exchanged a laugh. Jack then, took a seat right across from you. Now you literally couldn't move your gaze anywhere else without making it obvious.
Quinn seemed determined to keep the mood light, though, and he continued with the banter. "I heard you and Mark spent the night together last night."
There was a pause and a few awkward glances before he continued, "Um, not like that."
Jack looked directly at you and he had unreadable expression on his face. Confusion? Annoyance? Jealousy? Maybe a mix of all three.
"Well, we just-"
Before you continue you heard Ethan and Dylan's booming laughter as they entered the dining room, plates in their hands. They immediately exchanged glances as they realized who was in the room before putting sitting down with their plates.
"Your mom has food in the kitchen, if you guys... want any." Ethan tried to diffuse the tension as he smiled and looked at Dylan. "Mark's in there, Y/N."
As you got up to find Mark, you couldn't help but exchange a glance with Jack. His expression was hard to decipher – there was a mix of emotions, but it was clear that the mention of you spending the night with Mark had affected him in some way. You couldn't dwell on it for too long, though, as you headed to the kitchen to find Mark.
In the kitchen, you found Mark helping himself to some breakfast. He looked up and gave you a warm smile as you entered. "Hey, good morning."
He quickly noticed your expression and he turned to you with confusion, "Everything okay?"
You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from the dining room. "Yeah, just... things got a bit awkward in there. Thanks for last night, by the way."
Mark chuckled, handing you a plate of food. "No problem at all. It was fun."
As you both made your way back to the dining room, you couldn't help but wonder what the day had in store for you, especially with the lingering tension between you and Jack.
You sat down next to Quinn as Mark quickly made his way to the empty seat next to you. Finally, everyone started piling into the dining room and everyone started eating.
The atmosphere in the dining room remained tense as everyone continued eating. Nicole was sitting next to Jack and noticed the slight change in him, he seemed more... moody. You tried your best to focus on your plate and engage in conversation with those around you, but it was hard with Jack's presence so close.
As the meal progressed, you felt Jack's gaze on you, a burning sensation that you couldn't ignore. Finally, after a while, Jack spoke up, his tone casual as he said, "So, Y/N, Mark seemed like a nice guy. How long have you known him?"
Mark exchanged a glance between the two of you, choosing peace and continued to eat.
His seemingly innocent question struck a nerve. You knew he was deliberately bringing up Mark to gauge your reaction, and it irritated you. Trying to maintain your composure, you replied, "Just met last night."
Jack's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of surprise in his expression as he processed your response. It seemed your terse reply had caught him off guard. Mark continued to eat quietly, not wanting to get caught up in the tension.
After a moment of silence, Jack cleared his throat, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing to hide a hint of sarcasm. "Well, you two certainly seemed close for people who just met." Before you could respond, he continued under his breath, "Didn't know you were that easy."
Quinn kicked Jack's leg under the table and Nicole seemed distressed, too.
You bit your tongue. You clenched your fork tightly, your frustration mounting. "We were just having a conversation, Jack. Is that not allowed?"
Jack's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "Of course it is, Y/N. Just making conversation here because apparently I don't know anything about you anymore."
That really struck a move. He didn't know anything about you anymore? Jack's words hit you like a dagger to the heart. The pain and frustration were evident in his tone, and you could sense the turmoil in his emotions. It was clear that your distancing had affected him more than you had realized.
The tension at the table was palpable as everyone watched the exchange between you and Jack. Quinn cleared his throat, trying to mediate. "Guys, can we not do this right now?"
You felt yourself get more heated as you heard Ellen say something but you couldn't even comprehend it, that's how angry you were. Without thinking, you pushed your chair back and got up from the table. Your voice was strained with anger as you addressed Jack.
"Do you have no idea what it's been like for me, Jack?" You couldn't help but raise your voice, your pent-up emotions pouring out. "You just assume things and make stupid comments, but you don't know the half of it. This distance isn't just about you, it's about me trying to protect myself too."
The room was now filled with an uncomfortable silence, and it was clear that your outburst had taken everyone by surprise. Nicole placed a comforting hand on Jack's arm, silently pleading for him to let it go. Mark, too, looked uncomfortable, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this argument.
Jack's expression had shifted from surprise to a mix of anger and hurt as he absorbed your words. He clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to find the right response. Nicole's gentle touch on his arm seemed to be a calming influence, and he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice more controlled.
Ellen, sensing that the situation had become too tense, interjected again, her voice gentle but firm.
"Let's all take a step back, please? Y/N, sweetheart, maybe you could use a little breather, and we can all reconvene when things have calmed down."
You felt embarrassed as you looked around the room, all eyes seemingly on you and Jack. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you, you nodded, your initial anger having dissipated into a mix of regret and awkwardness. You understood that your outburst had been uncharacteristic and uncomfortable with everyone there. With a forced smile, you mumbled an apology.
"Yeah, maybe I do need a little breather. Sorry about that, everyone." You turned away from the table and quickly exited the dining room. Outside, the fresh air greeted you, and you took a moment to collect your thoughts.
As you stood there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend the growing rift between you and Jack, or if it was time to accept that things might never be the same again.
You stayed outside and spent the most of the day alone, outside in the pool trying to get a tan. The boys had all been playing pool inside and you were glad alone.
The sun beat down on you as you lounged by the pool, trying to soak in the warmth and forget about the tension from earlier. The sound of laughter from inside the house was a stark contrast to the solitude you sought outside.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The cool water of the pool offered a refreshing escape from the heat, and you decided to take a dip to cool off and clear your thoughts.
As you swam in the crystal-clear water, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Jack in your mind. It weighed heavily on your heart, and you wondered if there was a way to make amends and rebuild the bond you had once shared.
"Hey,"
You let out a yelp as you heard Mark's voice and he let out a soft laugh as he walked over to the pool, dipping his legs into the pool.
"Hey," you laughed, pushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. "Sorry, you scared me there."
Mark chuckled, the sound light and soothing. "No worries, didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you could use some company."
You appreciated his gesture and nodded. "Thanks, Mark. It's been definitely been a... day."
He nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. "I could tell. The argument with Jack didn't look fun."
You sighed, the weight of it all still pressing on you. "Yeah, it wasn't. Sorry about him throwing you in the middle of it, I don't know what's going on with him."
He stayed quiet as he listened and nodded. You looked at him, waiting for some kind of response. He looked like he was weighing something in his head. "Well... it seems like he's jealous."
Jealous? You blinked in surprise, not expecting Mark to say that. "Jealous? Why would he be jealous?" You knew why, but it hadn't even seemed like a possibility in your mind.
Mark had a thin-lipped smile as he continued, "I mean why else would be an absolute dick about me spending the night with you?"
You stayed quiet, you had no idea how to deal with this. Of course this would happen to you on what was supposed to be a peaceful lake-house trip.
"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? But you have to be 100% honest with me." Mark's tone seemed serious as he spoke and you felt your heart drop. "Have you and Jack ever hooked up? Or like, dated?"
"No," that was the true answer but it looked like Mark hadn't bought it. "Well, I've always liked him." It felt weird to admit that and Mark's expression looked hurt as you continued. "That's why I stopped talking to him. I realized it would never go anywhere and I was still living in my head, it would've never worked out with me and Jack."
Admitting it out loud hurt more than you expected. You would never work out with Jack, no matter how hard you wanted it to.
"You still like him?"
You weighed your options but as you looked at Mark and everything that could happen, you knew the right answer. "No."
──
"Y/N!"
You heard Trevor's excited shout and you turned around, you felt Trevor embrace you tightly. You let out a laugh as he continued hugging you tightly, it had been a couple months since you'd last seen him.
He was always just as close to you as Jack, he was your true best friend. He had been there for you when Jack wasn't.
"Trevor!" You returned his hug with equal enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness at the sight of your close friend.
He pulled away with a big smile on his face, "Wow, why do you actually look good?" He said with a playful flirty undertone, making you laugh.
"Don't know, maybe it's the lack of Jack." As you turned to look behind him, you locked eyes with another close friend, Alex. He smiled and walked up to you; he was definitely the calm one in the friend-group. He gave you a hug before Trevor continued.
He rolled his eyes, "You still on that? Come on, Y/N."
You chuckled at Trevor's playful teasing, realizing that his presence had indeed lifted your spirits. "I can't help it, Trev. It's like a curse or something."
Alex joined in with a gentle laugh. "Well, we're here now, so you don't have to think about Jack for a while."
With your friends around, the atmosphere lightened even further, and you felt grateful for their presence. It was a chance to forget about the tension with Jack and simply enjoy the reunion with your closest friends.
"Oh shit." Alex mumbled, "I forgot my phone in the car,"
"Oh no worries, I'll come with you," you offered, eager to catch up with Alex and have a moment away from the group.
As you both headed to the car, Alex spoke in a hushed tone, "How have you been, Y/N? I know things have been tough."
You appreciated his concern and gave him a small smile. "I've had my ups and downs, but I'm good now. I'm glad you decided to come to the lake house, I've missed you two."
Alex nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We've missed you too. And I know things have changed with Jack, but we're here to support you no matter what."
As you arrived in the hallway, you had no time to respond as you heard yelling in the garage. You and Alex exchanged confused glances as you tried to listen in.
"What, Jack?! What's the excuse now, she literally said she's liked you forever!" You heard Nicole's voice and you felt your heart drop. She heard you in the pool?
You and Alex exchanged concerned glances as you strained to hear the conversation in the garage. Nicole's voice had a tone of frustration, and it was evident that she was upset about something. The mention of your feelings for Jack made your heart race.
Jack's voice responded, his tone defensive. "Nicole, it's not that simple. Y/N and I have a complicated history, okay?"
Nicole sounded exasperated as she retorted, "Complicated history? Jack, she's moved on. Why can't you?"
Their voices grew louder, and you could feel the strain in their relationship even from a distance. It was clear that your presence had stirred up emotions and issues between them, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.
As you leaned in closer to the door, it suddenly opened and you and Alex jumped.
The sudden opening of the door startled both you and Alex, and you found yourself face to face with a frustrated-looking Nicole. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing you eavesdropping on their argument.
"Y/N..." Nicole began, her voice trailing off as he seemed at a loss for words.
You quickly glanced at Alex, who was equally taken aback by the unexpected confrontation.
"I'm so sorry, Nicole, I didn't know that you heard me and I promise you I would never, ever try anything while you were with Jack-"
She cut you off with a forced smile, "I get it. It's not your fault." She sneered at Jack before continuing. "It's not your fault Jack can't get over his childhood crush."
"Nicole, let's not do this here," Jack said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced at you and Alex before turning back to her. "We'll talk later, okay?"
"There is no later! I'm done." She yelled back at him, her eyebrows furrowing in utter anger. "You already made your decision, it was either me or her and we all know your choice. I won't be a second choice, Jack. I've been second to her our entire relationship and I just met her, can you imagine how I've felt?"
The raw pain in Nicole's eyes was impossible to ignore, and it was clear that she had reached her breaking point. Her outburst had laid bare the insecurities and frustrations that had been festering beneath the surface, and it left everyone in the room with a heavy sense of unease. You could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was clear that their relationship had reached a breaking point. You couldn't help but feel guilty, was it your fault?
While you knew you weren't responsible for the choices Jack had made in his relationship, it was impossible not to wonder if your presence had somehow worsened the situation. You had never intended to come between them or cause any harm.
You exchanged a glance with Alex, who looked equally uncomfortable with the situation. The unease in the room was palpable, and there were no easy answers to the complex emotions and dynamics at play.
Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. It was a painful silence, and you could feel the weight of the history and emotions between Jack and Nicole.
Finally, he managed to speak, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, Nicole. I never meant for any of this to happen-"
Nicole didn't respond. She simply turned and walked away, leaving Jack standing there, his face etched with a complex mix of emotions.
Jack ran a hand through his hair before he quickly pushed past you and Alex to run after Nicole. "Fuck, baby please listen!"
You and Alex exchanged looks before he sighed heavily, "Wow. What the hell did me and Trev miss."
"You have no idea," you sighed as you began walking to his car for the thing you had came in there for.
──
You sat next to Mark as you both dangled your feet in the water, everyone was outside and it finally felt like relaxing trip. It finally felt like the lake house; no drama (for the most part), cool summer air, and all your close friends in one place.
Sitting by the water with Mark, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The drama from earlier had dissipated, and you were grateful for the opportunity to unwind with your friends. The cool breeze, the soothing sounds of the lake, and the laughter of your friends created a serene atmosphere that allowed you to momentarily forget about the complexities of your relationships.
You turned to Mark and offered a genuine smile. "Thanks for being here today, Mark. It means a lot."
He returned your smile warmly. "Of course, Y/N. I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to or just hang out with."
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you found yourself leaning in closer to Mark. His presence felt comforting and reassuring. You locked eyes with him, and there was a shared understanding between you.
In that moment, you realized that Mark had become more than just a friend. He was someone who had been there for you, who had listened, and who had shown you support when you needed it, something you hadn't experienced from any partner. And perhaps, in the midst of all the chaos, you had found something unexpected: the possibility of a new beginning.
As your faces drew nearer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that quiet, starlit moment. It was a moment of choice, a moment where you could let go of the past and embrace the future.
With a gentle, lingering touch, your lips met Mark's, and for that brief, stolen moment, it felt like the world was right where it should be.
Then it felt wrong. You pulled away and you turned your head almost instinctively and there he was. Jack, standing there, watching the scene unfold.
The shock on Jack's face was undeniable, and it was as if time had frozen in that moment. His presence shattered the tranquility that had enveloped you and Mark, leaving an awkward and tense silence in its wake.
Mark pulled away from you slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. You could feel your heart racing, caught between the past and the present, between the familiarity of Jack and the newfound connection with Mark.
Jack scoffed and walked away, leaving your heart shattered; like he always did. As you began to get up, Mark gripped your arm. You looked down at him and found yourself at crossroads.
Mark or Jack? Mark or Jack? Mark: the sweetest boy with the sweetest smile, or Jack: the person you'd loved your entire life.
You knew the answer. Everyone knew the answer. You moved your arm from his grip and got up, leaving him seated in the pool. You ran after Jack and it suddenly hit you. He'll always have this power over you, his beautiful smile always had this effect on you.
It made you nauseous as you tried to find where he was, like you always did. He would always pick someone else and you always had to pick him, that was just how it worked.
You ran after Jack, your heart pounding in your chest. The familiar ache of chasing after someone who always seemed just out of reach gnawed at you. It was a pattern you had repeated countless of times, a dance of longing and rejection that you couldn't seem to break free from no matter how hard you tried.
As you searched for him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. You knew that choosing Jack meant choosing the same cycle of heartache, but it was a choice you had made so many times before. His smile, his presence, his history with you—it all had a hold on you that was impossible to shake.
Finally, you spotted him by the edge of the lake, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. He turned to look at you, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, as if he couldn't believe you had chosen him once again.
You didn't say anything as you approached him. Words felt meaningless in that moment. Instead, you simply reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and with that simple gesture, you made your choice.
It might have been the same old pattern, the same old dance, but it was your choice to make, and for now, it was the one that felt right.
As you looked into his eyes, the same ones you'd adored since day one, you felt deja vu. You felt angry; how could one person have such control over you? In the depths of his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions, a turbulent mix of desire, frustration, and longing. It was a maddening feeling, to be so deeply ensnared by someone who seemed to hold all the power in your relationship.
The moonlight cast a soft glow on both of you as you stood by the lake, hand in hand, the weight of your choice settling in. It was a choice that defied reason and logic, a choice that defied the very patterns you had tried to break free from. But for now, it was your choice, and you would face the consequences, whatever they may be, with Jack by your side.
You felt an unexpected sob ripple from your chest and you ripped your hand from his, covering your mouth with your hand. You closed your eyes and you felt Jack pull you closer, into his chest.
As the sobs wracked your body, you felt Jack's arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. It was a mixture of relief and hurt, the weight of your choice bearing down on you. You had chosen to follow your heart, even if it meant stepping into the same cycle of uncertainty and longing.
Jack held you tightly, his own emotions undoubtedly conflicted, but in that moment, it was a silent understanding between the two of you. The night was still, and the moon illuminated the path you had chosen, as well as the challenges that lay ahead.
"It's okay, shh. I'm... here now, I'm sorry." He mumbled as he planted a kiss on your head.
You felt such anger in your stomach as he said those words so easily. Was it okay? Was he really here, with you? Was he truly sorry. You pushed him away and you saw him fumble back, hurt in his eyes as you fell on to your knees, taking a seat on the cold sand of the lake.
The anger, the hurt, the confusion, it all swirled within you as you sat there on the cold sand, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't make sense of your emotions, and Jack's words, well-intentioned as they might have been, didn't provide the solace you needed.
Jack remained a few steps away, watching you with a pained expression, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
"Do you know..." You sniffled, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't even know where to begin. "I've spent my entire fucking life pining after you. Every single moment has been dedicated to the great Jack fucking Hughes, did you know that?"
Your bitter words felt like a dagger to the heart to the both of you. You continued, "I always choose you. I always fucking choose you!" You screamed out angrily, as Jack flinched. He'd never seen you this angry in his entire life.
"Why do I always choose you? You're like every other guy in the world." Your tears streamed down your face. "But you're special to me," you mumbled as Jack's breathing became heavy with emotion. "You always choose everyone else but me. I never knew why." You were just rambling at this point but you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good.
You looked up at Jack. "I watched you fall for people who didn't see you the way I did, who didn't know you the way I did, and I stood there, invisible, as you gave your heart to them."
Your words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the years of unrequited love and longing.
"And then," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "when I finally thought it might be my turn to finally be with someone who actually liked me, who wanted me, I choose you again." Your voice cracked as you mentioned Mark.
You wiped away fresh tears, and the pain in your eyes was palpable. "It hurts, Jack. It hurt more than I can put into words. But I still chose you, again."
A sob caught in your throat, and you continued, your words heavy with emotion. "I've cried myself to sleep, wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, why you never saw me the way I saw you. And every time you got hurt, I was right there with you, helping and being there." You paused. "And when I was hurt, where the fuck were you? Probably with some girl who never knew you like I did. Who will never know you like I do."
Jack's eyes were filled with remorse, and you could see the pain in his expression, but you couldn't stop now. You had to let it all out.
"I convinced myself that if I just kept waiting, if I just kept choosing you, someday you'd see me for who I was, you'd choose me. But it never happened, Jack. It never happened, and it broke my heart a little more every day."
Your voice broke again as you sniffled, "I've missed out on so much because of you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've given up on amazing opportunities, on people who genuinely cared about me, all because I thought someday you'd choose me too."
Jack took a seat beside you, the weight of your words sinking in. You didn't fight it, you were too tired.
The lake's gentle waves lapped against the shore, providing a soothing backdrop to the turmoil of emotions swirling around both of you. He didn't say anything for a while, the silence between you heavy with unspoken regret.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with remorse. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to... hurt you."
You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. You saw the sincerity in his gaze, but it was accompanied by a sense of helplessness. It was as if he had finally realized the depth of the pain he had caused you.
"I couldn't like you, Y/N." It sounded harsher than it actually was as he continued. "I just couldn't. You were too good, Y/N, you are a sweetheart. I was scared to taint you, and I would've never forgiven myself if I did..."
"Taint me?" You scoffed, pain in your tone. "You tainted me the moment you met me, Jack."
Those words hung in the air as he swallowed, taking your words into consideration. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted any of this."
You sighed, the anger and frustration slowly giving way to a sense of resignation. It was a complicated situation, and both of you had made mistakes along the way. "I know, Jack. I know you didn't."
In that moment, you both shared a painful understanding of the past and the choices that had brought you to this point. You would always choose him, and he'd always choose them. But as he put his hand on top of yours, your body entire body felt like it was on fire.
As you looked into Jack's eyes, you saw a mixture of emotions - regret, longing, and a hint of hope. It was as if he, too, was wrestling with the undeniable connection that had always existed between you.
"I'm not saying it'll be easy, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "But maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work."
His words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to entertain the possibility of a future with Jack, a future where you didn't have to choose between him and anyone else.
Maybe all of that pining wasn't for nothing. Maybe in the end, he would have chosen you. But would you choose him? Could you finally resist him?
As you sat there, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair and the quiet waters of the lake before you, you contemplated Jack's words. The years of pining and longing, the heartaches and frustrations, all seemed to converge in this one moment.
Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment where the tides would turn, and you could choose a different path, one that didn't revolve around Jack. But the choice was yours to make, and it wouldn't be easy. You knew the allure of Jack, the history you shared, and the magnetic pull between you two would always be there.
For now, you decided to savor the night, knowing that the future held uncertainties and challenges, but also the potential for something beautiful. As you gazed at the moonlit lake, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead and what choices you would make when the time came.
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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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nastybuckybarnes · 2 years ago
Text
Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
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k4marina · 7 months ago
Text
— ii. Dragon Rider || Heart of the Dragon
synopsis: a new routine in a new world
warnings: idek lol. unedited and not properly read (i kept falling asleep lmao)
series masterlist || next part
~ 2.5k word count.
game of thrones x modern!fem!reader
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[gif found on pinterest]
Never in my life have I regretted anything more than I did now. 
“Me and my big fucking mouth,” I grunted, getting up from the ground and dusting my leather pants. Gray Worm looks at me with a slightly amused expression. Of course he would, he just dropped me onto my ass for the fifth time today. 
It had been almost two weeks after the Small Council meeting. There had been a few more since then, but no major topics were discussed, other than Varys begrudgingly backing what I had said about Cersie having scorpions when asked if his little birds had any news. The new armor and weapons for the Unsullied are also being made. After a few talks with Daenerys, Gray Worm, a few Unsullied commanders, and I, the new armor design was decided on. Surprisingly the Unsullied were very artistic people and had great ideas. 
And, within the past two weeks, I’ve been tortured everyday, my limbs aching all the time, threatening to fall off. Everyday, I’ve been woken up at four in the morning for my sword lessons with Gray Worm for five hours a day. When I said I wanted to learn, I didn’t mean I wanted to train to be the world's best swordsman of all time. 
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say towards him, wiping away the sweat on my face. 
“I have no idea to what you are referring to, My Lady.” Gray Worm says, feigning innocence. 
“You can’t call me ‘My Lady’ and then drop me on my ass for the fifth time.” I pointed out. 
Gray Worm smiled and got into a fighting stance and I mirrored. “Your defense has gotten better; however, your strength and stamina is lacking.” 
He gave the signal and charged towards me, going to swing towards my left. I sidestepped and blocked the hit with my sword before knocking it back. This time, I went for the attack, but Gray Worm expertly blocked me and knocked the sword out of my hand. The sword clattered against the stone ground, landing a few feet away from me.
“Maybe it’s best we stop for today.” He says, picking up the sword and placing it back onto the rack. I let out a sigh of relief and walked over to the inches, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat away from my face and neck. 
“Be honest,” I said, turning towards him. “Am I a lost cause?” 
He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Apologies, My Lady.” Once he’d composed himself he answered, “No, I do not believe you are a ‘lost cause’. It may seem difficult now, but it will get easier later on.” 
“Wow, wise words,” I said sarcastically, taking a swig of water from the canteen. “They should call you ‘Gray Worm the Wise’.” 
“I’m pleased that you think I am someone with wisdom.” He says, giving a small bow, making me chuckle. 
After the lessons, I took a bath in my room, this time with the help of the servants. The first few days I would have them leave so I could bathe myself, but I guess over the days it just naturally happened. Once bathed and dressed in a white dress with gold embroidery and pearl beads before I made my way to the hall to have breakfast with Daenerys. 
Not only was it a good way for us to get to know one another (mainly her learning about me) as well as discussing future events and how we would maneuver through it. However, not all of it. I had made the decision to not tell her about Jon Snow or the White Walkers, I think that’s something she should organically go through. All she knows about Jon is that he’s the King in the North is Jon Snow, Ned Stark's “bastard” and the former Nights Watch Lord Commander who came back from the dead.  
The doors to the hall were swung open for me and I walked in, spotting Daenerys at the head of the table, looking through some documents. The sound of the doors closing, snapped her out of her thoughts. When she saw me she smiled, which I returned. 
“What did I say about bringing work to the dining table,” I lightly scolded. She gave me a sheepish look and protested, “it can’t be helped, it's important work. As Queen I’m expected to do this and more.” 
I walked over to her, carefully taking the documents and setting them off to the side. “Dany, you’ve been a Queen since you married Khal Drogo. You need to step back and take some time to just be Daenerys. Otherwise you’ll grow overworked.” 
“Alright, alright. If you’re so sure.” She nodded towards the servants to begin serving the food. Like always, an array of food was laid out for us to eat. We both began to eat, making small talk and updating each other with any new updates. 
“Gray Worm has been telling me that you’re quite exceptional with a sword,” She teased. 
I playfully rolled my eyes, groaning, “not you too.” She let out a laugh, teasing me some more. “What? He says you’re a fast learner. He says he’s never seen someone land on their arse five times in a row.” 
“Right, that’s it.” I huffed. “I’m running away.” 
Daenerys laughed some more and I tried to hide my smile. Truthfully, she reminded me of my younger cousin in Volantis, Mera. Both of them had a heart of gold and an innocent child-like soul deep down. 
“The servants told me that you refused to have your hair braided.” Daenerys points out. She’s not wrong. Instead of braiding my hair I opted to leave it in a ponytail or let it down. 
“Well, I haven’t won any battles.” I said. “Each one of your braids represents a battle won, I haven’t won anything.”
“So if you win you’ll braid your hair?” 
“Sure, why not. Why? Do you not want me to?”
“No, no. Actually, I would quite like that.” She smiled. 
I eyed her suspiciously, “don’t tell me you’re planning on putting me in the frontlines.” 
She shrugged. “Maybe. Your lessons with Gray Worm are going well. Who knows, by the time we’re ready for war you’ll be a master swordsman –or rather swordswoman.”
The rest of the breakfast went fine. Daenerys and I decided to take a stroll around the castle ground claiming she has something to show me. She dropped off the papers in her office before taking me through the back of the castle to the open fields in the back. The wind swept by us, carrying the saltiness of the ocean and the fresh scent of grass. 
“Where are we going?” I asked as she led me deeper into the field. 
“I just wanted to show you something. They’re right over there.” 
We stood atop a hill and at the foot of the hill on the other side resting were Daenerys’ dragons. I felt my heart stop. No way. What the actual fuck. My mouth ran dry as I looked over the three dragons. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, all in their full glory. I looked over to Daenerys who was already looking towards me. 
“You’re serious?” I ask. She smiles and nods. “What if they don’t like me and decide to eat me?” 
Daenerys laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “They will do none of that sort, I swear. I have a strong feeling that they will like you.” 
Carefully she led me closer to the three dragons. With every step they just grew more and more. They towered over the two of us and stood with immense power. And to think that these three are just a small fraction of the size of Balerion and the rest of the Targaryen fleet. 
We stood a few feet away but I could still feel the heat that they emitted from their bodies. Their majestic eyes that were probably the size of my head watched me carefully. Shiny scales adorned their bodies that looked to be about the size of my hand or bigger. Their one claw nail was the same size as my limbs. 
Holy fuck was this crazy. I’d read about these dragons and even saw a few drawings made by people who’d seen them in textbooks, but being this up close and personal with them was a whole other experience. 
Oddly enough, for such dangerous creatures, they seemed to emit a sense of calm. 
“You feel it too?” Daenerys eyes my reactions to the dragons. “Their calm.” 
I nodded. “I thought my heart would be doing somersaults in my chest, but it’s not.” After the initial shock, I felt my body relax. 
“They’re so beautiful.” I said to no one in particular. 
We hung around them for some time, allowing me to get used to their presence while Daenerys told me stories about her and her dragons. 
I looked over the dragons. Drogon, named after Daenerys’ husband Khal Drogo. Rhaegal, named after Rhaegar the Dragon Prince. Viserion, named after Viserys the Beggar King. 
Daenerys followed my gaze to the cream and gold scales dragon that laid on the grass alongside his brothers. Viserion and Rhaegal seemed to play fight while Drogon watched. 
“Despite their playful nature, those two are the oldest.” 
“What? 
The dragons carefully made their way over to where we stood. Drogon moved towards Daenerys, moving his tail around her as if giving her a hug. Rhaegal moved around behind us, opting to lounge. Viserion, however, moved closer to me. His green eyes bore into mine, as if it was trying to communicate with me. 
He brought his face closer to me, like a dog wanting to be pet. I glanced back at Daenerys who nodded. 
Viserion tilts his head when I carefully bring my hand up to stroke his gold and cream scales. A deep purr comes from him, nearly startling me. He nuzzles his head into my palm and purrs some more. It wasn’t like a cat's purr, more like a deep bass. 
“Would you like to fly him?” Daenerys asks. 
“Yes,” I replied without a thought, too entranced at the dragon in front of me. 
She moves around Drogo, standing to the side of him. 
“Stand like this,” she says. “This is what I find the easiest.” 
I mimic her stance, standing besides Viserion. Drogon crouched down and Daenerys carefully stepped up, using his scales and spikes to seat herself atop the dragon. 
I copied her, being careful to not hurt Viserion (not that I’d be able to) and sat myself on top of the gold dragon. It was uncomfortable, almost like riding a really large horse with spikes and scales. How Daenerys was able to ride her dragons without a saddle or harness was beyond me. 
My hands gripped onto the spikes on Viserions back, holding on tightly as the gold dragon began to shift around from a crouched position to fully stand. My hands gripped onto him tighter as I tried not to fall off. I peaked over its massive body to see that Viserion was getting ready to take off. 
“W-wait!” I looked towards Daenerys who was watching from atop Drogon. “Why is it taking off? What do I do?” Panic filled my voice. 
There was no way in seven hells that she thinks that I can fly, right? 
“Hold on!” She grins just as Drogon takes off into the sky. VIserion gets ready and I can already feel myself slipping off. He takes off just as I adjust my position, hunching down and tightening my grip onto his spikes. 
Wind rushes past my ears and my hair flows all over the place. Instinctively, I closed my eyes while Viserion flew in the air. I could hear Daenerys call for me from across the sky. 
“Open your eyes!” She says. “You’ll be safe, I promise.” 
Carefully, I opened them. It was brighter up in the sky than on the ground and had a lot less clouds. I could hear the, surprisingly, gentle flaps of Viserions wings. I cautiously looked down, seeing that we were miles off the ground, so far up that we could see Dragonstone Island and I could feel my stomach start to buzz. 
“Don’t look down,” I look up to see Daenerys. “When it was my first time I was terrified, as well, but you cannot let your fear control you or else it will transfer to your dragon.” 
I nodded, taking in her words and sitting up straight with confidence. Despite still feeling uneasy I managed to get my grip on things (literally). Daenerys’ words rung in my ears. 
“Your dragon,” 
I’d read of Dragons bonding with non-Targaryens or non-Valyrians, case and point being Hugh Hammer riding Vermithor during the Dance of Dragons. But it would make sense if I could bond with Viserion in light of recent findings. 
“Alright, let’s see what we can do.” I said to Viserion and I. 
Daenerys and I spent the rest of the day riding our dragons. It was challenging, especially the part where you literally have to hold onto for dear life, but rewarding in the end. 
In the end Viserion and I had truly bonded. He would know what I was thinking or how I was feeling without even saying a word to him. At first I thought it was just the two of us getting the hang of each other, but Daenerys explained that this was what she and Drogon felt. It was hard to believe that I was a Dragon Rider. But then again, this past week has shown that anything could be possible. 
Getting off the Dragons was harder than getting on, my dress snagging on its scales, but not ripping entirely. 
“I can help you with your riding,” Daenerys says as we walk back into the castle. 
“I’d like that.” I replied. “I’m sure we can find books in the libraries that can help us too.” 
“Have you uncovered anything else?” She asks, expectantly. 
I shook my head. “Nothing of significance. I’ll keep reading and let you in on my findings.” 
We split off so we could clean ourselves up and get ready for dinner. The bathtub was already ready for me when I entered the room. I pulled off my dress and sunk into the steaming hot water. The tension in my shoulders loosened and I dipped my head back to rest on the edge of the bathtub. 
The weight of my necklace lay heavy on my chest, a firm reminder of my… predicament. I tried not to think about it all, otherwise I’d just spiral into some rabbit hole. Some days I wonder if it’s all some sort of dream. A long, vivid dream that I can't wake up from. A knot pulls at my chest, and my throat closes. My eyes flicker up to the ceiling, tears threatening to fall. I took a deep breath, the only thing I can do is take everything in day by day.
And then I fully submerged myself into the water.
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a/n: finally, it’s here :) mb if there’s any spelling mistakes, i tried to proofread it but i kept falling asleep and couldn’t be asked anymore 😭 i’ll fix it later, trust 🙏.
comment to be on the taglist!
@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff
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gogotti · 19 days ago
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Helpful Hands - Michael Myers/Reader NSFW
omg I'm back? I had to come back with a fic about my baby daddy of course ;) If theres any warnings i missed please tell me! I hope you enjoy!!
Warnings: Fem reader, Stalking, y'all don't fuck but he's there lmfao, several squirting mentions, reader is way to focused on getting that nut out LMFAO
(I dont have my normal border so this'll have to do lol)
God, was this needed; a solid 7 inch silicone cock dragging against your ever-tightening walls, its thickness drawing breath after breath from your tired form and making your eyes roll further into the back of your head. Every push and pull of your sore wrist was worth it, every bounce you forced your aching thighs to make sent shocks of well-earned pleasure right up your spine, and you couldn't help shoving your face further into your pillow- your ass further into the air. Whine after whine, you kept up, building that undeniable pull in your core closer to its release. 
Every moment you spent fucking yourself stupid now was worth the excruciatingly slow hours of your workday. It was the only thing you thought about when you excitedly hopped off of the bus and nearly skipped home, a stark contrast to the sluggish walk you had throughout the horrible day. Your boss had a sick up her ass for one. Rather she newly didn't have a ‘stick’ up her ass since you could hear talk of her breakup from office loudmouths, it didn't help that everyone had something to do for Halloween so you rushed to finish your end of the project so they could get home sooner, and of course you had chosen the absolute worst pair of shoes you owned simply because you were feeling yourself a bit too much after your morning routine. 
As soon as you got the notification that your package had arrived, all the pain from the day didn't even exist, hell, no one existed at that point- not even the dude wearing his slasher costume way too early in the day, who coincidentally ended up at every turn you took. 
While the loud thump coming from somewhere in the house didn't go unnoticed, it definitely went ignored. Nothing could pull you from the rhythmic in and out of your dildo, the filthy squelching coming from your sopping, creamy cunt. Like earlier, nothing else existed, especially not the slight thumping coming from down the hallway moments later; It's not like you could hear it over the thrumming of your heart or the pathetic whine that spilled from your lips as you finally, fucking finally, found that mind melting spot deep in your cunt. 
A part of you wished you had someone under you, that the cock was of flesh and blood, just so you could feel them twitch inside you at the mewls you let spill from your spit slicked lips. Maybe they’d pull you up by your hair and swipe the drool from your mouth onto your face, making you even messier- maybe going as far as sticking their fingers in your mouth and making your string of spit become akin to a faucet. You couldn't stop yourself from clenching down onto your dildo, whining at the sinful thoughts filling your brain as it nearly spilled out of your ears at the pleasure. 
The click of your door closing behind you was ignored, much like the worsening pain in your wrist as your orgasm drew near. You continued pumping the cock in and out of your pouring hole, the thought of cleaning your squirt soaked seats couldn't even solidify in your head as your orgasm crashed into you like a wave. Your eyes squeezed shut like your cunt attempted to around the thickness of the dildo; you cried pitifully into your pillow, a mouthful of ‘yes, yes, yes’ and pleas to no one fell from your mouth while you spilled onto your bedsheets. It was a moment of embarrassing grinding before you stilled; even then, you couldn’t think through the remnants of your orgasm- cunt twitching around the girthy cock beneath you.
None of the ragged breaths you took could have prepared you for the sudden handful a pair of suspiciously wet hands took of your waist. You couldn't move, period, but even if you could you wouldn't have moved fast enough to avoid the hands lifting you off of the dildo beneath you, only to slam you down harder than you had the whole time it was in you.
Harsh ups and downs flooded your body, and bedsheets once again, with an overwhelming pleasure you couldn’t help but scream at. You wished you had half a mind to yell at whoever was behind you, to do anything but weakly give into the powerful hands that controlled you, instead, your wrist only got half a break and your thighs ached even more as you moaned pathetically on your silicone cock. You could feel the black and blue marks forming on your hips and you couldn't care less; your meaningless overstimulated babbling fell to deaf ears as they forced another orgasm out of you, quick and blinding. It was only when you pulled the dildo out of your tired cunt did the hands stop, though whoever was pulling on your puppet strings did not approve, as the animalistic growl that came from them was as frightening as it was arousing. 
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earthtooz · 1 year ago
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x : BANDAGED HEART :*+゚
in which: blade finds out you're injured and can't contain his anger.
warnings: gn!reader x protective!blade, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, 'who did this to you?' trope with blade LOL, slight manhandling, did i mention that he's protective?
a/n: blade debut, omg? this sucks btw but this was inspired by this comic that i saw the other day :> it just reminded me that the 'who did this to you' trope existed and i went YES and took my own spin onto it so, i hope you enjoy!
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the smell of antiseptic wafts heavily through the air, bandages sit tightly rolled beside you, and you hiss at the sting of the antibacterial ointment slathered over the open wound on your arm. 
it hurts. 
blinking the tears away and gritting your teeth to bear with the pain, you reach for the unused roll, clumsily unravelling them with shaking hands and a blurring vision.
“oi.” a raspy voice from behind catches you off guard and you turn around from where you’ve seated yourself in the corner of the medical wing, having helped yourself to a supply of ointment and bandages. 
a familiar swordsman and fellow coworker towers above you, glowering at you through the streaks of his bangs. maybe if you weren’t on the verge of fainting, you’d have the energy to fear him.
“oh, it’s just you,” you mutter, “can i help you?”
his eyes glance you up and down, as if scanning you for any indication of misadventure. feeling uneasy under the intensity of his gaze, you return to trying to rip the bandages with bare hands since you had not brought scissors or even a blade with you in your haste. 
feeling the blood from your wound drip down your arm and onto the floor beneath you, you cringe, hurrying up so you don’t make a mess. this whole patching-yourself-up-thing should have been easy, but without something sharp and half your strength evaporated after a gruesome mission, it was much harder than usual. 
the growing frustration you were feeling was not offering much aid either, and with blade practically towering over you, you try not to let your fluctuating anger overwhelm you. 
aeons, it was as if you were sent on this mission with elio praying for your downfall. you’re lucky that you managed to get out with only a scratch on your arm and a missing weapon. it’s going to be hard finding a replacement for it, but when you just looked death in the face, you can’t say you have much to complain about that a weapon was the only thing you lost. 
suddenly, two hands sneak underneath your arms to lift you up, breaking your train of thought with a tight, unforgiving grip as you’re effortlessly placed onto a hospital bed right beside you. meeting the ruby eyes of the swordsman, your breath lodges uncomfortably in your throat, and you have to rip your gaze away from him; the intensity would paralyse you otherwise. 
“where are you hurt?” he asks, sounding more like a demand than a question. 
“i can do it myself,” you grumble. blade takes the bandage out of your hands, holding back your wrist that instinctively reached out to grab it back. the glare he shoots you from the corner of his eye placates any complaint you have.
“show me.”
reluctantly, you present your injured arm. he mutters a very quick and quiet ‘stay here’ before stalking off. a faucet is turned on, water begins running from a nearby sink, and blade returns with a wet cloth. 
grabbing your wounded arm, he cleans around the area, rubbing the blood that has trickled down your arm as well. he’s scarily gentle with you, attentive to your every wince and hiss, halting momentarily every time you let a noise slip. 
he makes quick work of patching you up, flawless and effortless in his technique. makes sense, you suppose, since he is covered in these. 
you wonder how many times he’s had to do this on himself. a small part of your heart aches thinking about it.
“thank you,” you whisper when he’s done, gratitude silently swirling inside you. grabbing the bandages and cloth, you slide off onto your feet. “i’ll put these away.” 
stepping in front of you, his body intercepts your path and you’re pressed against the bed, frozen under him. there’s an indescribable look of fury in his eyes, his red eyes seeming even angrier than usual. 
“what happened?” he asks.
you have hold yourself up, suddenly weak in the knees. “just a typical mission, it’s nothing you should worry about.”
the fellow stellaron hunter does not look satisfied with your response. “what do you mean ‘nothing you should worry about’? who did this to you?” he asks, punctuating each word with a dark expression. 
“blade- please, can we not talk about this right now?” you mutter, “i’m tired and i just want to sleep.”
he narrows his eyes. “who. hurt. you?”
“why? what can you do about it now?”
“kill them.”
you scoff. “yeah, right.”
blade wedges a leg between yours, hindering your escape even further by leaning himself closer to you. “i’m serious.”
“so am i. if you’re thinking about hunting them down, then please, don’t bother. let it go.” you mutter.
“but you got hurt.” 
“i get hurt all the time.”
his brows scrunch together, a small indication of the dangerous protectiveness growing within him. you interrupt his train of thoughts, placing a brave hand on his chest; right over his heart. ‘i’m fine. you don’t need to worry about me.”
“i’m not worried,” he grumbles lowly. 
“oh. i see.”
he grabs your hand and takes it away from his chest, holding you gently. “i’m angry that you got hurt.”
you’re speechless, blinking at the swordsman who raises your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. it feels like a promise- not that you know what said promise is, but with that look in his eyes, you know it’s not a peaceful one. 
“so why don’t you tell me the truth? who did this to you?”
the answer slips past your lips before you can help it and when the words are spilled, a creeping guilt invades you. whatever he’s planning, you know that bloodshed will follow.
“see, that wasn’t so hard.”
in a blink of an eye, blade is gone, taking the intense pressure with him. he left so quickly that you wonder if he was ever here to begin with. the lingering brush of his lips is the only indication that he was not a figment of your half-aware conscious.  
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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changbunnies · 9 months ago
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Desire (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin
♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, sequel to scent of you, past dubcon from part 1 is discussed
♡ Word Count: 10.9k (i have got to stop doing this, my god)
♡ Summary: In which the bunny hybrid “little red” has been unable to forget her past encounter with the wolves of the forest, and goes to seek them out for more fun while also being in the throes of her heat. 
♡ Warnings: same as before; uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is in heat so... yeah, pet names (though mostly as a title- bunny, little red, and sweetheart), more use of the word slut + gendered language, dom/sub dynamics (dom!chan, sub!reader, switch!changbin), scent stuff again lol, lots of kissing, size difference, size kink, outdoor sex :'), manhandling, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, orgasm control + denial, subtle mxm may not actually be all that subtle + more of the rivalry between binchan as well as jealous bin lol, mates / mating, biting, nipple play, overstim, multiple orgasms, choking kinda? reader just gets held by the neck lol, handjob, cum eating, multiple creampies
♡ Notes: this is a sequel to scent of you, which you can read here! so i fully intended to still be on a small break and this was not supposed to be a series but i literally could not stop thinking about what would happen next for them and i had to write it :’) i hope you enjoy <3 
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you stare up at your barren ceiling, sweat dripping from your brow as your limbs grow tired and ache with exertion. How long had it been since the night you got lost deep in the woods, only to be found by Chan and Changbin?
Two wolves who you would still think you imagined were it not for the note they left behind, clear evidence that everything you experienced with them was real. It wasn’t something your psyche conjured while lost and alone in the dark woods, the pleasure wasn’t a vivid dream made in an attempt to cope with the reality that you were lost– everything about them, about that night, was entirely real.
You can still remember how you tucked your note away into a pocket of your dress before you opened the cottage door, your grandmother scrambling up to her feet when she heard you enter, rushing off her bed and out of her room as fast as her weak legs could carry her. You met her halfway, catching her as she stumbled, her arms squeezing you tight as relief washed over her.
You knew she must’ve been beside herself with worry, but actually experiencing it made guilt strike your heart like lightning; and when you opened your mouth to speak, she simply shushed you, requiring no explanation. Your grandmother wasn’t stupid, she knew a predator had caught you– your cape was torn in several places and you positively reeked of wolf, but rather than comment on it, she was simply grateful you were back home in one piece.
There were very few things a rabbit could do to ensure their survival against a wolf, and she was wise enough not to pick at the fresh wound you may very well harbor for having done the unspeakable in exchange for your life. She let the topic of wolves die right then and there before it could even be spoken, simply dedicating herself to stitching your cape back together, doing her best to make it appear as if it had never torn at all.
And not being forced to discuss what happened that night was certainly a relief, but not for the reasons your grandmother might expect. Because how would you explain to her that you actually liked the wolves that had found you in the deep, dark woods that night?
It’s utterly shameful how even now you still think of them, how their touch still feels engraved in your skin even as each season comes and goes. Shameful, how you look at that note they left behind as a sign that they’d want you back in their arms, that perhaps they think of you as much as you think of them. And they knew where you lived, they could easily seek you out whenever they pleased, but they never had. 
You assume it to be for the same reason they likely left you outside instead of carrying you to the front door of your cottage, or opening the door to bring you inside your home– because you lived with your grandmother, and what would that poor, frail woman do if she was confronted with the sight of two massive wolves holding her precious granddaughter? But despite the logical reasonings, there was a part of you that still felt.. rejected, somehow? 
It was fucking dumb, you knew this, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling that way. You just wanted to see them again so badly, to look at them and touch them and let them touch you, to bask in the warmth of their skin, to lay yourself against their massive bodies and revel in how feeling small was good in their presence.
Safety, protection– the complete opposite of what you should feel from them, the complete opposite of what you felt when you first laid eyes on Chan and then on Changbin, but somehow by the end of the night, that had all changed. 
To further complicate matters, your heats have since made the disgraceful yearning you feel exponentially worse, your mind flooded by the memory of them, your body aching to feel them again, every nerve inside you practically screaming for their touch. You are typically quite prepared for your heats, often stocking up on the herbs needed to brew natural remedies meant to make your symptoms more bearable so that you can be an effective caretaker for your ill grandmother, and they usually did well enough for you. 
Of course, it’s not a magic cure-all, nor does it completely alleviate any of the discomfort you feel, but it’s enough. You still need to make yourself cum a couple times before the night is over, but you can at least go about your day with little issue until the remedies effect begins to wane.
This week, and tonight specifically, was supposed to be more of the same– prepare dinner, get grandmother comfortably into bed, and then take care of yourself in the privacy of your room. If all went as expected, you’d feel satisfied enough to get some sleep, the next day you’d start your morning by brewing and drinking your homemade tea to calm your nerves, bring down your heightened temperature, and ease any aches you may experience.
You’d carry on through any remaining discomfort as best you could as you spent another day taking care of your responsibilities until night came, rinse and repeat for essentially a week until your heat eventually recedes and you can go back to your daily tasks as normal. Why had it become so different after meeting Chan and Changbin?
While going through a heat without a partner is never a comfortable experience, what you experienced now was downright unbearable; nothing you did to calm yourself or your body ever seemed good enough, none of your orgasms satisfying enough to dull the incessant need for something more, your only relief coming from driving yourself to utter exhaustion, when your body would be forced to give itself to sleep.
It didn’t make sense– it’s not like you were a virgin before you met them; you had your fair share of fun experiences with a few trusted friends of yours before you moved in with your grandmother to care for her. So certainly, while you weren’t exactly super promiscuous in your personal life, you were no stranger to sex, and you never fixated on your past partners during your heats the way you do now with Chan and Changbin. 
If you had to guess, it must be because of how different they were. Nothing about them was familiar, and that brought a unique sort of excitement you’d yet to feel again since that night had come to an end. Could that feeling be replicated with another rabbit?
You weren’t sure– and even if it could be done, would you want them over the two wolves? That was another thing you’d found yourself stuck on lately; was it them specifically that you wanted, or just a similar experience, in which anyone would do as long as they successfully replicated the sensations? 
Either way, you spent yet another night in unsatisfied yearning, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take it. And your poor grandmother would suffer for it, as your scorching fever and addled mind made your ability to care for her deteriorate.
Compounding on that even further, your longing for them was becoming increasingly heightened as you became more and more desperate for relief– a desperation that would drive you to make foolish decisions you wouldn’t otherwise make. You look again at the note the two wolves left behind, clutching it tightly in your hand as you consider what you should do next.
If you go see them again, grandmother will know– their scent will be all over you when you return, and what will you say? Will you admit you liked them and sought them out on purpose? Or will you make up some stupid excuse, blaming your every decision solely on your heat, chalking your choices up to a lapse in judgment brought on by your need for relief? 
But the simple truth is that it isn’t just your heat that makes you want to see them again, and even if you did place all of the blame there, it wouldn’t change what you have come to realize about yourself. The shameful reality is that you’re attracted to wolves– those two wolves in particular, and no one but them will be able to grant you the specific relief you seek. 
And you know how dangerous it is to leave your home when you’re in heat– your scent could attract far more than just Chan and Changbin, and truthfully speaking, there is no guarantee that you will find them before someone else finds you first. You’d be walking blindly, mirroring what you’d done the first time you were lost in the woods at night, though this time with the explicit hope that you’d be found by them. 
It’s dangerous, it’s foolish, you absolutely should not go into the woods at night looking for a fucking wolf– but that’s exactly what you do. Not even bothering to change out of your nightgown and into proper outdoor attire, you opt for tying on your cape and pulling up the hood, knowing they will instantly recognize you if you’re wearing it (as if they need more than just your scent to identify you in the first place.)
Just in case, you hastily write a note for your grandmother in the event that you aren’t back before morning, apologizing as you explain in the briefest of terms that you needed to soothe your growing ache. She’ll understand, you hope– she was young herself once, and surely she remembered what this feeling was like. And foolish though your choice may be, you hope she’ll sympathize and scold you lovingly instead of harshly upon your return. 
The night air feels impossibly cold on your fevered skin, but it’s hardly a deterrent– in fact, you welcome the way the wind chills your sweat, a small, but much appreciated form of relief before you hopefully experience what you truly wish to.
Honestly speaking, you have absolutely no fucking clue where you are going; there is no path to follow to their den, no landmark for you to use in an attempt to guide yourself to your destination. You simply wander in the direction you hope is correct, praying the one (or ideally both) of the two wolves you so wish to find stumbles upon you. 
You glance up at the sky, the waning moon and countless stars shining back at you; a full moon is coming, and you wonder if they even have time to play with you at all. You don’t know all that much about wolves outside of what is required for self preservation, but you do know that the full moon is important to them; will they even entertain you right now?
Maybe this truly is a fool’s errand, maybe you’re making a mistake and getting yourself lost for nothing, maybe–
Suddenly you’re being grabbed, body being forcibly turned around and back shoved harshly against a thick tree you’d passed just moments prior. Your breath hitches, and your nose recognizes who it is before your eyes do–Changbin. He's caging you in and looking down at you with a clenched jaw, his claws digging into the bark of the tree he has you pressed against, clearly trying very hard to control himself. 
“Y/N-” he breathes, voice strained as he uses your given name for the first time, and hearing it from him makes a new, fresh wave of heat crawl over your body. “What are you doing walking around out here smelling like that? Are you insane?” 
Unable to control yourself now that he’s close, you immediately grab at his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands as you look up at him with pleading, glassy eyes. “B-Binnie, I– I was looking for you, needed to find you,” you explain, your voice embarrassingly weak with desperation, “need you and Channie to help me, please.” 
His grip tightens, you realize– the sound of wood cracking and splitting audible just behind your head. “Please? I’ll be a good bunny for you again, I promise, please help me,” you continue to plead, shamelessly pawing at him, begging for him to accept your advances. 
Holy shit, are you seriously doing this to him right now? Begging him to take care of you? Him? A wolf? A rabbit begging a wolf for something like this is completely unheard of, only occurring within his wild fantasies.
To be quite frank, he was aware that the first time with you was coercion– he and his elder saw a meek, defenseless rabbit, and they took their chances. He had his fun, and while you did too when things really got going, he fully expected that to be it, though he hoped otherwise. 
And God, he can’t even believe how reckless you’re being; what if it was one of the other wolves patrolling this area tonight that found you instead of him? He can only imagine how the younger wolves in the pack would react to your scent right now– he’s barely keeping himself in control as it, and he has much more experience with these matters than them.
He clenches his teeth as his gaze trails away from your eyes and down your body, where your nightgown leaves very little unexposed, where you are very clearly pressing your thighs together as you stare up at thim, expectant and hopeful. Fuck. You really want this, don’t you?
“Fuck, yeah, okay, just–” Changbin says as he picks you up, tossing all his responsibilities aside as you’re lifted from the ground and cradled in his arms, “just hang on, we’ll go find him, okay? We’ll help you.” And he’s trying, he’s really fucking trying to control himself and not just throw you down on the ground right here and have you all to himself, but you’re making it increasingly harder to maintain focus on the task at hand as he winds his way through the forest. 
Chan’s scent is barely discernible over the way yours intensely fills his nostrils, and even when he does manage to pick up on his elder’s location, he can hardly even focus in on it. And your hands wont stop roaming over his skin, you press your body to his as much as you can manage, absolutely desperate for contact.
He can hear you panting despite the fact that all he’s doing is holding you, can feel your body tremble in his arms, can smell the slick that steadily leaks from your core. And to put it simply, Changbin is a weak man, and your desperation is utterly infectious. But still, he holds strong; that is, until you start pressing kisses to any patch of his skin you can reach.
When your breath hits his neck before your lips latch on to it, he feels completely done for. This is it. Fuck it. Chan can have his turn with you later– Changbin is the one that found you, it’s only fair that he has fun with you first, right? And besides, you’re acting positively insatiable right now– how is he supposed to hold off or say no? That’s quite literally asking him for the impossible. 
So he falls to his knees, your bodies tangled together on the grass in a matter of seconds, your clothes being thrown off in a flurry. Changbin rotates to his back, pulling you on top of him, deciding that he should still be a gentleman even when his composure is at its limits and not let your bare skin touch the dirty forest floor.
He grabs your face, pulling you in to kiss him before you’re even fully settled on his lap; it’s a bit awkward, given the size difference between you, but he makes it work, curving and twisting his body however necessary to keep his lips on yours as you adjust your positioning. 
Your slick drips and pools, coating him entirely with no effort expended on either of your parts. He’s even bigger than you remember, and that feeling of pure adrenaline inducing excitement that you’ve missed so much finally returns to you. This is what you needed all this time, what you’ve been craving.
You grab the base of Changbin’s cock with one of your hands and do your best to line it up with your hole– and again, it’s awkward due to the difference in size between you, but you’re determined to see this through. “Wait, fuck, sweetheart–” Changbin gasps as you begin to sink down on him.
He fully intended to get you prepped first, was going to pull you up after he got his fill of kisses and have you sit on his face, make you cum and loosen you up enough to take him, but apparently you felt that you’d waited long enough to have him inside you again. And you’re so fucking wet that the slide down is relatively easy; benefits to being in heat, you suppose– it makes your fervent desperation for cock come with far less sting.
And no doubt, there is still a sting– after all, your body isn’t made to take a size so disproportionate to your own; but all it does is further ignite the fire in your gut, the excitement swelling as you take more and more of him inside. Changbin uses one hand to bear his weight and keep himself propped up while the other holds your face in place, his tongue shoved in your mouth. 
He hardly lets you pull away for a breath before you’re dragged back to his lips, a moan coming from deep in his chest when you meet his tongue with enthusiasm. Your palms are pressed firmly on his chest, your nails digging into the surprisingly soft flesh, your every moan and whine swallowed by his open mouth until your hips finally become flush with his.
You know you should feel the utmost shame, desperate as you are for a wolf, stark naked and exposed in the open forest where anyone could stumble upon you, but all you feel is relief. True, delightful relief, finally– Changbin gives you everything you need just as easily as you’d hoped he would.
You mentally compared him to a puppy during your first meeting– desperate, easily excitable, cute in a way that juxtaposes his rough exterior. And you knew, just knew he’d never deny you if you offered yourself to him, because it’s simply not within him to do so. A desperate puppy with his equally desperate bunny– what better pairing could there be? 
And truly, you feel like heaven– your body, so small in comparison to his, makes you feel impossibly tight, your wet warmth utterly perfect and beyond compare; he could die right now, and feel that his life was entirely fulfilled. “Be a good girl, and show me how good bunnies can bounce,” Changbin breathes as he lets go of your face, now supporting himself with both arms as he leans himself back to watch you. He huffs out a small laugh when he feels you clench, pleased to find that words still have a profound effect on you. 
Changbin expected you to start slow, but maybe expecting a desperate little thing like you in the middle of her heat to show restraint wasn’t his brightest moment– because you’re bouncing fast, and fuck, he knew rabbits had strong legs and were notoriously skilled at bouncing, but what the fuck?
You’re riding him like your life depends on it, which from your perspective may very well be true– you’ve been so pent up and unsatisfied that truthfully you couldn’t act any differently than this even if you wanted to. All you can think about, all that drives you, is your need to cum on Changbin’s cock– nothing else matters. 
Despite the fact that Changbin is using his arms and hands for the explicit purpose of keeping himself upright to watch you, you all but demand he brings them to you. It’s a pitiful attempt really, trying your best to learn forward enough to grab his hands without losing your balance on his lap and falling straight onto his chest, but thankfully he realizes what you’re going for and offers them to you before you can fully fall against him. 
His back once again touches the cool grass, with you intertwing your fingers as soon as his hands come to your own. His hands are much bigger than your own, fingers thicker, and you have to completely spread out your own fingers to even get them between his, but he squeezes your hands once you succeed. You use the additional support of his hands in yours as leverage for your bouncing, his arms strong and firm enough to help keep you upright and steady as you slide up and down his length. 
You can hear his tail thumping against the ground, a display of excitement and pleasure that he’ll never be able to disguise. Your nails dig into his knuckles, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you try to contain the noises that leave you, not wanting to alert the entire forest that you’re fucking right now (as if yours and Changbin’s combined scent doesn’t already give that truth away.) 
But there’s still something missing– something that a desperate puppy and bunny really needs; and that is someone to keep them in line. That’s where Chan comes in, tsking at the scene in front of him as he steps closer, having evidently caught your scent and came straight to where you are now, sitting on Changbin’s dick in the middle of the forest without a single ounce of shame between the two of you. 
“What’s this? Having fun without me?” he asks with a frown that feigns disappointment, though the slight swish of his tail and subtle spark in his eyes relays that he doesn’t actually mind very much. If anything, it gives him a chance for even greater fun, opens up a world of opportunity to tease and demand whatever he wishes.
And his sudden presence and voice doesn’t cause you to slow down in the slightest– rather, it excites you further, causing you to bounce with renewed eagerness as you turn your head in the direction you heard him, looking him squarely in the face even as you continue your motions atop Changbin.
“That’s not very nice, I thought you liked me,” Chan pouts as he squats down next to the two of you, though his obviously fake pout breaks into a smile when you whine and affirm you do like him and want to have fun with him too.
“We tried, fuck– we tried to find you, I swear, but she– she just–” Changbin is doing his best to talk, though you’re making it extremely difficult for him to be coherent, not letting up your pace in the slightest; and truth be told he’s never been much of a multitasker. “She– she’s fucking– God, I can’t–”
There’s also a pang of jealousy in the pit of Changbin’s stomach over how obviously excited the addition of Chan made you, how his presence and voice caused you to bounce on his dick with renewed vigor; and really, he should probably be happy that you’re putting so much effort into riding his cock thanks to Chan, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he squeezes your hands harder, almost instinctively, a gesture that he doesn’t even fully comprehend as possessive. “Oh, look at what you’ve done to poor Binnie. He’s a mess because of you, slutty girl,” Chan coos and your stomach twists as you divert your gaze back to Changbin. 
He’s sweating, panting hard, his stomach rapidly clenching and unclenching– and you feel it, the throb and twitch that alerts you to how close he is. And you’re close too, you have been for ages. Days worth of terrible, unfulfilling orgasms make the pleasure of this moment positively euphoric– but you were doing your best to hold out for Changbin. You know that once you came you won't have the strength to ride him anymore, and you want to be good and do what he asked of you to the best of your ability. 
And Chan can clearly see the signs on both of you; he’s shared with Changbin enough times to recognize his tells, and in your case, well.. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re about 3 seconds from gushing and creaming all over Changbin’s cock and lap.
But you started the fun without him! And he isn’t sure you deserve to cum so easily after leaving him out– so just as your volume picks up, your pace finally faltering as your taut line is about to snap, Chan grabs your hips and forces you down, bringing you to a complete stop. 
You whine loudly, wiggling your hips as you vainly try to lift yourself up again, but it’s impossible– Chan is much, much stronger than you after all. Changbin, who was close himself, curses and whines nearly as loudly as you, his brows knitting together as he tries to calm himself down. 
“Hyung, what the fuck–” he complains, though he doesn’t dare make a move to make Chan stop holding you down– he knows better than that. You look at Chan, bottom lip quivering and eyes glassy with fresh tears as babbles of “why” and “please” and “need to cum” leave you. 
“But weren’t you a bad bunny? Having fun with just Changbin, weren’t even thinking of me at all..” Chan says with another false pout. He is nowhere near as jealous and unconsciously possessive as Changbin, as he knows very well he can have whatever he wants, but this dynamic is where he has the most fun– exuding control is the greatest pleasure he knows. Changbin’s denied orgasm is just collateral.
“And poor Binnie, you dragged him down with you because you just couldn’t wait,” he continues, grabbing your face with one hand and making you look back at the wolf beneath you, “I think you should tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you’re sorry for being a slut who can’t wait and getting him into trouble with you.” 
You whine again, watching as Changbin swallows and bites his lip, clearly eager to hear the apology you’re about to grant him at Chan’s command. “I.. ‘m sorry, Binnie, ‘m really sorry,” you mumble, and Chan tsks again, very clearly unsatisfied with the meek apology.
“C’mon little red, you can do better than that, can’t you? Try again, we’re waiting.” You glance at Chan and then back at Changbin, swallowing as both of them stare at you and wait; the ball is in your court, and you have no choice but to deliver. 
“I’m sorry f-for being a slut, and ‘m sorry for being a bad bunny, sorry for getting Binnie in trouble, ‘m really sorry, I promise ‘m so sorry,” you try again, to which Chan smirks, taking his hand away from your face to give you a pat on the head. “That’s better,” he says as he finally removes his other hand from your hip. You take that as all the permission you need to start moving again, wasting no time in lifting your hips and slamming them back down onto Changbin’s lap. 
Changbin’s surprised gasp transitions into a moan, his hands once again squeezing yours while also trying to be careful not to pierce your skin with his claws. Eventually, begrudgingly, he lets go of your hands to dig his claws into the earth instead, finding that better than risking cutting into your precious skin.
Chan watches patiently, waits until you’re both close again before he brings you to another stop with his strong hands, frustrated whines leaving you both as you plant your feet firmly on the ground and try to fight against Chan’s natural strength.
“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he explains as he watches tears fall from the corners of your eyes, “couldn’t even wait for my permission, and look at you now, in trouble again– dragging Binnie down with you, again.” 
You pout and cry, babbling apologies to both wolves, shame ever a foreign concept in the face of desperation– all you know is you want to cum, but if Chan needs you to be good, to ask first and follow his rules, then you will; you’ll always be as good for him as you possibly can be. 
When Chan removes his hands from your hips this time, you ask for permission as he wants you to. “Can I move, please? Please, I’ll be good from now on, I promise, just need to cum so bad,” you beg and he smiles as he coos, once again giving you a sweet stroke to your head.
“Of course, good bunnies can have whatever they want. Make Binnie cum too, he’s so good to you, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” Chan chuckles as you nod quickly, eagerly resuming the motions on Changbin’s cock as if Chan had never stopped you at all. “Tell him,” he says, moving his hand down your head, over your back and to your tail, tugging it ever so slightly, “he’ll get so excited. Go on, talk to him.” 
“B-Binnie, you’re so– so good to me, make me feel so good, want you to cum, d-deseve to cum– cum in me,” you stutter out between harsh breaths and Chan has to suppress the laugh in his throat when Changbin’s tail fucking whacks against the ground in an impossibly loud, excited thump. So predictable, he always is– can’t hide a damn thing he thinks or feels.
Changbin is the one grabbing your hips this time, helping you along as he starts to fuck up into your from below. You squeak and nearly fall forward onto his chest, but somehow manage to keep your balance and stay mostly upright, your hands gripping desperately at his biceps.
And in all the times they have shared someone, Chan is met with a sight he doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Changbin’s eyes are rolling back as bites his lip and chases his high from below, using all of his strength to move you however he wants. Clearly, being denied orgasms did something profound to him– he’s almost feral, relentless in the way he fucks into you.
When he feels the build up again, he tries to hold back, almost afraid that Chan will rip it all away from him at the last moment again– but then you’re squeezing him hard, he can feel more slick gush and coat his length as you cry out, and he loses it entirely, cumming in long, drawn out spurts, giving you all he has to give.
You’re entirely collapsed on Changbin’s chest now, seemingly spent from all the effort you exuded and the intensity of your orgasm, eyes closed as you try to collect your breath. Changbin is equally breathless, brain lagging as he processes the fact that he’s cum the hardest he thinks he ever has, and on top of that it was in the middle of the fucking woods with Chan controlling when you were both allowed to cum. Maybe he’s due for some self discovery after this..?
Changbin, whose senses are finally returning to him and recalls he was unable to kiss you at all once you really got going and was sorely missing it, lifts your face and pulls you into a kiss. One kiss turns into two, then to three, then to four, until you’re essentially making out, with Changbin effectively stealing away all the breath you’d just regained.
Chan watches for a time, lets Changbin indulge in what is one of his favorite intimate acts, but he can’t let you two be the only ones having fun for much longer. It’s Chan’s turn now, and he’s been patient enough.
He’s good at putting up a front, makes his control seem effortless, what with his boundless charisma and intimidating presence, but fuck, the minute he caught the scent of your heat in the air, he about lost it. Just as Changbin surely felt, he needs to fuck you before he risks going insane.
The younger wolf whines when you’re pulled off of him, a mess left behind on his lap where you once were. What a selfish pup he is– maybe one of these days Chan needs to remind him what it means to share. “Go home, Bin. And tell everyone still there to get the fuck out, so I can bring her back home with me.”
Changbin blinks for a moment as he processes, and then he’s scrambling to his feet, getting his clothes back on in a rush. Changbin wanted to bring you home too, but he knew he couldn’t– if he just walked in with you in his arms, it would’ve been chaos; the younger wolves with much less practice in self restraint would’ve lost their fucking minds. Even Chan and Changbin themselves had barely been keeping it together, still heavily effected by your heat despite how experienced they were. 
“Uh, when I do, can I.. y’know..?” Changbin asks before he starts to leave and Chan rolls his eyes before he lets out a small laugh. “Yes, Bin, you can join us again.” Changbin smiles, tail swishing cutely before he runs off and once again you have to suppress a giggle at the surprisingly adorable display. You wonder if he’d take offense to the fact that you view him as a puppy; he just screams “I need constant affection and attention or I’ll die” and it’s oddly endearing. 
Chan doesn’t let your thoughts linger exclusively on Changbin for long however; he’s grabbing your face again, diverting your attention back to him, making you look straight up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss, one that is far more impassioned than you would’ve expected based on his cool exterior.
He holds you tightly, pressing your body firmly against his own, leaving no space between you. You in turn wrap your arms around his neck, sighing into the kiss as you are met with more of the sweet relief you’ve desperately needed. His hands travel over your body, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his fingers, refreshing the memory, letting it become engraved once more.
When he pulls back, he is looking at you carefully, doing his best to continue to suppress his carnal need to have you long enough to ask you something that’s been mulling around in his mind, “Tell me honestly, little red. Did you want us to find you tonight, or was it an accident?” He needs to know if it was simply spur of the moment with Changbin, if anyone would’ve done if they’d approached you, or if it was them you specifically needed to get you through your heat. 
“You, I wanted you,” you answer easily, truthfully, a slight blush crawling over your face as you admit how you truly feel; your mind may be foggy from your heat, but you're not immune to the nerves that come with an honest confession, “I told Binnie too, that I.. I wanted you both.”
Chan smiles at your answer, a smile that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pretty he is when he smiles at you. “Good. Then my next question before I keep you for the rest of the night– do you want to be ours?” 
“B-Be yours..?” you ask, blinking up at him as your mind goes over what that could mean. “Mhm, mine and Changbin’s. Our sweet, little bunny that we’d take good care of. Our mate, essentially.. Do you want that?” Your breath hitches, the blush on your face growing as the words swirl around in your head.
Their mate. Chan’s. Changbin’s. Both of them.. Their mate. “A-Are you serious? I mean– I’m a rabbit, and you’re.. not.” From what you've heard, wolves take having a mate very seriously.. and he wants that special someone to be you? And to share that special someone with someone else? Is that really okay?
“I’m completely serious. And you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I hope you know it’s not something I offer easily,” he says, stroking your cheek, offering you the softest smile you’ve ever seen him hold. “And you feel it, don’t you? The inexplicit desire, how nothing since having each other has felt complete, satisfying.. enough?”
You swallow as you nod, knowing that much is true– ever since you met them, every night without them felt.. wrong somehow. Like you weren’t where you were supposed to be. And God, how unbearable your heats had become, going far past the usual discomfort into completely uncharted, agonizing territory. 
“I do, I really do,” you answer, unable to lie about such a thing even if you wanted to. And there’s still so much about your life you’d have to figure out, but you know you’d regret it if you said you didn’t want to be theirs, you’d live in agony if you didn’t have them. He smiles again before he kisses you, hands traveling down to your legs, over your thighs and hips, until he’s cupping your ass, lifting you up and bringing you closer.
You leak onto his lap, but he doesn’t mind, can’t even process it, really– his mind is full of you. Of your scent, of your touch on his skin, of his on yours. And just how you’d done with Changbin, you insatiably run your hands over whatever patch of his skin is within your reach. And if his senses weren’t in overdrive from your scent, he’d admonish you for being so insatiable, tease you for being a slut and make your face burn red from filthy, whispered words.
But he has to admit the desperate, needy side of you he’s witness to is a treat, and it works at the rope that is his composure in record time, steadily tearing at it until all that keeps it together is a thin thread. He’s no better than Changbin, is he?
Really, if this is how you’ve been from the start, it’s clear the younger wolf never had a chance; but Chan is the superior here, and he has to set an example– what good will it do if he can’t stay in control long enough to get you back to his den? He has something to prove– to himself, to Changbin, and to you; that he doesn’t break and give in so quickly and easily.
So he quickly rises to his feet with you in his arms, carefully leaning to where your clothes were discarded and picking them up, covering you in your cape like it’s a blanket. “Just in case there’s some stragglers still at home,” he explains; when you’re officially his mate, no one will touch you, but until then, he’ll take every precaution necessary to protect you from other wolves that may want you– barring Changbin, naturally. 
It takes you no more than a few minutes to get to their den thanks to his speed, and just as before you closed your eyes and clung to him tightly as he wove through the trees to get there. Thankfully, it seemed Changbin did a good job at relaying that the leader wants everyone gone until morning, as the only sight you are met with inside is him sweetly and excitedly waving as Chan approaches with you in his arms. 
Just like the first time, Changbin trails close behind on the way to Chan’s room, locking the door for security when you’re all inside. You’re set down on the bed, with Chan putting your discarded clothing on his nearby armchair before he’s sitting next to you. Changbin also wastes no time getting his clothes off again, to which Chan stares at him incredulously until Changbin replies with a simple “what?”, causing Chan to scoff in disbelief and you to giggle. 
Changbin sits on your other side, his hands in his lap as he waits for whatever it is Chan is going to do next; and he may be jealous, but he won’t interfere with whatever his elder wants to do with you, even if it means all he gets to do for the remainder of the night is watch.
Chan reaches out, pushing your hair behind your shoulders and exposing your neck, to which Changbin instinctively swallows. He resisted last time, only scraping your skin with his teeth, but he wanted to bite you so bad that night. 
It was a bit strange, considering he’d never had such an urge with previous partners; he liked them, of course, they were pretty, sexy, fun.. But he almost felt the natural instinct for a wolf to bite was either a myth or something he wasn’t meant to experience until he had you.
And maybe that’s why he felt so jealous when Chan captured your attention; Changbin has always been a jealous person, but it never felt this.. real, almost? Serious, and not entirely playful and fun-aligned as it usually was. 
Changbin watches as Chan trails his fingers over your neck, the both of you instinctively holding your breath. He watches as Chan replaces his fingers with his lips, watches as he trails kisses over your skin, watches as his hands travel to your thighs and squeezes them. His jealousy mixes with excitement, softened cock beginning to harden once more, his fingers twitching and aching to touch you some more, but not acting on the desire; it’s Chan’s turn, he has to remind himself repeatedly.
Chan chuckles a bit when he pulls away and sees Changbin very clearly internally struggling; he’s so simple when it comes to things like this, incredibly easy to read. Once more, Chan grabs your face, but he does something new this time– he makes you tilt to the side, exposing the entirety of the right side of your neck to Changbin.
He licks his lips and swallows before tearing his gaze away from your neck to look at Chan, unsure of why exactly he’s exposing your neck to him like this. “Bite her. I know you want to,” Chan says much too casually for Changbin’s poor brain, his eyes widening in surprise as he practically gawks at his elder. 
“W-What? But– I can’t, she’s–” he stutters out, and you’re surprised to hear him so flustered; you guess the rumors are true– wolves take mating and bites very seriously. It’s not something he’ll do on a whim, even if he desperately wants to.
“She wants you to. Wants both of us to,” Chan continues with a smile as he watches the gears turn in Changbins mind, “isn’t that right? Tell him, sweetheart.” 
“’s true, I wanna be yours. Both of yours,” you tell him and Changbin groans, though you can’t tell if it’s from disbelief, pleasure, or a mix of both. He takes one of your hands in his, squeezing once more as he leans down to your neck, inhaling your scent as he presses open mouthed kisses to your skin.
“You’re sure..? This isn’t something you can take back,” Changbin asks between his hot kisses, and you affirm eagerly, that yes, you absolutely want this. “Together then?” he asks as he pulls away, looking at Chan with utmost seriousness.
Chan hums his agreement before he’s tilting your head backwards, your entire neck exposed to both of them. And though this is something you want, you can’t help but be nervous as they take their places on either side of your neck, their breath tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. “Relax, sweetheart,” Chan whispers soothingly, his hand coming down to find the one Changbin isn’t holding. 
You let out a breath, doing your best to will you heart and nerves to calm; this will change your life forever, but it’s a change you accept wholeheartedly. Once the initial pain subsides, you know they’ll take the utmost care of you, they’ll make it all worth it. You feel their teeth start to prick your skin, their positions on your neck a true mirror of one another– the same placement on either side, marks that will show to the entire world that you have not just one mate, but two.
Chan’s fangs pierce your skin first, causing you to gasp and squeeze at their hands, crying out when Changbin’s own fangs follow shortly behind. It stings, but that initial pain dulls rather quickly, and you’re soon left with only the pleasurable feeling of belonging, of.. love?
Or maybe that's not entirely accurate given how this all came to be, but whatever it is transcends anything you've ever known or experienced in your life thus far. It’s unique, special, new– a fitting description for your newfound relationship, and all the emotions it conjures within you.
Changbin is the first to kiss you when they seperate from your neck– and it's to be expected, he just can't help himself. But possessive though he can be, intentional or otherwise, he pulls away rather quickly, giving Chan his opportunity to kiss you too– because it’s not just him you belong to, and he wants to make it clear that even when he’s clingy, or jealous, or pouty, he’ll never do a single thing to jeopardize what the three of you have together.
He simply hugs you as Chan kisses you, his lips ghosting over the mark he left behind, soothing a sting that no longer exists. You wondered, when you were back at home in your cottage in the clearing, if it was okay to miss them. Was it foolish, did it even make sense to want to see them again?
But you feel you’ve found your answer– you were meant to miss them, were supposed to feel a tug in their direction, were supposed to find them irresistible in every aspect, to desire them with all that you are. They are meant for you, and you for them, and maybe everything up to this point happened the exact way it was supposed to; and now you were truly where you belong.
Though Changbin should keep his hands and lips to himself given that it’s Chan’s turn to have his fun with you, he really can’t help himself. You’re sure Chan notices, as he notices everything when it comes to the both of you, but he doesn’t scold, tease, or pull you away.
As fun as it would be to make you both whine and pout, this is a moment that will never be replicated– to bite someone like this is an act that you hopefully only do once in your lifetime. For the first night of belonging to each other at least, he’ll loosen the reins of his control just a bit for Changbin’s sake.
Chan guides you, and in turn Changbin, to lay back. Changbin's back hits the wall, while yours rests against his chest, where he cups and grabs your breasts from behind, squeezing and playing with them to his heart’s content while Chan continues to kiss you. His tongue slides in your mouth when Changbin’s rolling and pinches of your nipples causes your mouth to open with a moan, Chan’s own hand traveling between your legs, his fingers becoming quickly coated in your slick. 
Your body jolts when he rubs your clit, instinctively squirming and avoiding his direct touch– because even though it’s the first time either of them are touching it tonight, you’ve been abusing it all week whilst chasing your (unsuccessful) orgasms. It’s tender, sensitive– and you say so, a tremble in your voice as you try to make Chan understand that the feeling is just too much right now.
“It’s too much?” he questions, and you’d think his tone was one of genuine concern were it not for his smirk giving away that he doesn’t very much care if the feeling is overwhelming you, “but you’re making such pretty sounds for us. And I thought you needed to cum? Isn’t that what you told me?” 
“Y-Yes, but–” you start but Chan quickly shushes you, another roll of his fingers making your eyes roll back as you continue to squirm. Your hands instinctively go to his wrists, simply holding them as you know you’d never actually be able to push him away.
“But what? I’m giving you what you wanted, silly girl,” he says with a smile that you’d view as sweet if you didn’t know any better, “you should be thanking me. Go on, tell me ‘thank you’, nice and sweet, ‘kay?” Oh, he’s so mean– and Changbin is no better, because he feels it fair to remind you that apparent cuteness and loss of composure aside, he’s just as much a menace as his elder.
“Yeah, yeah, do it, pretty. We wanna hear it,” he says, close enough to your ear that it makes you shiver and squirm some more, whining in equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. Because even if it is overwhelming, it does still feel good– so good, you can’t help but cry.
“Th-Thank you, thank you,” you say between moans and gasping breaths, your nails digging into Changbin’s thighs now that you’ve released Chan’s wrists from your grasp. “Hmm, are you sure that’s all you wanna say? I think Channie-hyung expects more from you,” Changbin says with a grin you can’t see but can certainly hear.
He’s right, of course, but you have no idea how you’re supposed to string together a coherent sentence with the way they’re coordinating their touches to your body and talking to you. But you have no choice but to do your best, because the alternative is disappointing them, and you would never.
“Thank you– thank you for making me feel s-so good, thank you Channie, Binnie, th-thank you.” Choppy and hardly coherent through your whimpery moans your words may be, they seem satisfactory enough; Chan hums approvingly, and you can feel Changbin’s cock twitch against your back.
“That’s my good girl,” he smiles, increasing the speed of his fingers before he corrects himself, “our good girl.” You squeeze your eyes shut, legs twitching, entire body trembling, though you no longer instinctively squirm away from his fingers– your body has finally accepted it, you suppose. Apart from the tremble and shake in your legs, your body is otherwise limp, accepting of every bit of stimulation they bring you.
You’re close, they both know, but given the circumstances, Chan decides to be kind this time– he can make you beg and cry some more later, for now he should give his good bunny what she needs. “Gonna cum aren’t you, pretty bunny? Go ahead and let go, let us hear it,” Chan says, doing his best to apply more pressure with the pads of his fingers, though how sloppy you are from slick doesn’t make the task entirely effortless– not that he minds, of course; he likes the mess you’ve made between your legs. 
You cry as you nod, head falling back against Changbin’s shoulder when his tugs and pinches to your nipples become harsher. You try to warn them before it happens, but you can’t– it hits you so hard that you can’t even utter any further noise, your mouth hanging open in silent cries as your eyes roll back and body tenses and untenses rapidly, gushing and making a further mess of Chan’s fingers and the mattress beneath you. 
They both whisper praises in your ears, sweet encouragements and dirty words that further drag out the euphoria you feel. You’re not sure how much time has passed before you open your eyes again, feeling Changbin’s hands rubbing your hips and thighs while Chan strokes your cheeks, smiling sweetly at you, actually sweetly, as your senses return to you.
“There’s our girl,” he says after giving you a quick peck on the lips, “did such a good job, sweetheart.” He strokes your head as Changbin presses sweet kisses to your neck and shoulders, moving his hands from your thighs to wrap his arms around you in a soft hug.
“Channie, fuck me now?” you ask, because as breathless and nearing exhaustion as you are, you’re still eager to feel him inside you, and you won't be truly satisfied until you get another load of cum inside you– his specifically. His smile turns to a grin, his hands coming down to your hips, prepared to move you into whatever position he desires, “Course sweetheart, nights not over until I’m done with you.” 
He flips you around effortlessly, Changbin catching you before you fall completely against him. He holds you upright while Chan adjusts the position of your hips, aligning his cock with your hole once he has you how he wants you. Changbin kisses you as Chan slides his way inside your heat slowly, swallowing every little noise that escapes you.
And really, you’re beyond wet and prepped enough for him to go fast if he wants to, but he doesn’t. Not entirely because he wants to tease you (though it does serve that purpose), but because he’s been so on edge this entire time that he’ll cum in record time if he doesn’t, and he’ll die before he lets Changbin last longer than him. 
Changbin, who is happy to have your attention again, has his tail thumping excitedly against the mattress. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support as your tongues play together, gasping into his mouth when Chan is finally fully sheathed inside you, his hands digging into your hips whilst still trying to be cautious of his claws and their ability to pierce your delicate skin (though you don’t think you’d particularly mind if they did.)
Changbin brings a hand to one of your ears, stroking the soft fluff and causing you to whimper as you clench around Chan’s cock, earning you a grunt from behind, a clear sign that he felt it. It’s not meant to be a challenge against Chan’s ability to hold out, but he takes it as one– if anyone is going to break and cum fast, it won’t be him.
His hand comes around to your front, grabbing your neck with just enough strength to pull you back towards him. You gasp and whimper, turning your head as much as you can to look at Chan while he holds your neck. “Make our Binnie cum again while I fuck you, and then I’ll let you cum again too. Understand, bunny?”
You nod quickly as Changbin whines and his cock twitches. Our Binnie– he likes the sound of it more than he’d expect. Chan whispers a simple ‘good girl’ in your ear before he lets you go, letting you fall back into Changbin.
Your head lands on his chest, and he intends to lift you up to support you and shift himself into a position that’ll benefit the both of you, but it doesn’t seem you need it– your hands are instantly on his cock, your tiny hands wrapping around and stroking as much as they are able. He groans and grabs your face, lifting it up enough so that he can lean down to kiss you.
Your pace falters when Chan finally starts to roll and thrust his hips, but you do your best to keep steady, determined to perform well and be allowed to cum again. You’re gasping, whimpering, crying as Chan’s pace turns to one you can only describe as purely animalistic– and fair, you admit, given how much self restraint and composure he had to hold until now. The fact that he even went this long before losing it is a herculean feat. 
Despite that, he is still firm on the idea that he absolutely will not cum before either of you do, so he reaches around and grabs one of your hands, taking it away from Changbin’s cock and bringing it up instead to one of his twitching ears. “Wanna see our Binnie really lose it? Rub his ear, he’ll go crazy.” 
“Hyung–” he opens his mouth to protest as his face starts to flush, seemingly embarrassed that his weak spot is being called out. The complaint dies in his throat however when your fingers softly rub over his ear, a gaspy whine coming out instead as his hips jolt up into the other hand still on his cock. 
“Fuck, shit-” he weakly whines while Chan smirks in victory– though the smirk doesn’t last very long, as he truthfully isn’t fairing much better than Changbin in regards to how good you’re making him feel. Maybe in the end, his plan backfired– because each noise that Changbin emits causes you to clench harder; but he still has other ideas in mind to make the two of you cum first.
Chan’s fingers find your clit again, making your body jolt and your hands grip at Changbin harder– on both his poor, sensitive cock and equally sensitive ear. He curses again, eyes rolling back for the second time, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips once again unconsciously thrusts upward.
It reaches a point where he’s essentially doing all the work, your fist almost entirely still while Changbin fucks your hand. His hands dig into the sheets, almost tearing them as he clenches at the fabric between his fingers. “O-Oh fuck, ’m gonna cum– harder, touch me harder, please–” 
Butterflies explode in your stomach, having never expected to hear Changbin beg the way you are usually made to. You do as he asks, you’d never dream otherwise; your fingers grip him harder, squeezing his cock and rubbing harsh circles on the soft ear in your hand. The thump of his tail is erratic, his breaths harsh as his head falls back, cum shooting on your hand and his stomach.
When he opens his eyes and lifts his head, he’s met with the sight of you licking his cum off your hand before your scooping up the mess he made on his stomach with your fingers. You stick them in your mouth, licking them clean and then sticking out your tongue to show him it’s all gone when you’re done, twisting your neck after to show Chan too. 
“F-Fuck,” Chan stutters a groan, pulling out long enough to flip you back around, your back hitting the mattress as Changbin moves to the side to watch. “Such a good girl, cleaning him up without having to be asked, should– fuck, should reward you, shouldn’t I?”
But he already promised you could cum if Changbin did, so what’s the next best reward he could give you? “What do you want? Tell me, bunny, and I’ll give it to you,” he decides to simply ask as he slides back into your wet warmth, resuming the harsh pace he’d set before you flipped back around. 
“K-Kiss? Can we kiss?” you ask and he chuckles, stroking your cheek as he brings his face close to yours, close enough that your noses are touching and you can feel his breath against you.
“That’s it? That’s all you want?” he asks, unable to suppress the smile when you quickly nod, “Bin’s gonna get jealous, y’know. You’ll have to make it up to him after.” But before you can reply, he’s kissing you, tongue shoving it’s way in your mouth.
Chan’s pace is fast and not entirely accurate, but God, he’s trying– and you perfectly understand, because even with the cool exterior he exudes, you can tell he’s barely been holding it together. He’s utterly gorgeous like this too, sweat dripping and jaw clenched, brows scrunched and veins popping from exertion, pretty lips glossy from your kisses just prior.
He finds your clit once more, desperate to make you cum first, but his fingers are quickly replaced by Changbin’s, allowing him to focus purely on his own pleasure. Chan’s hands grab your legs and keeps them held open, his cock going as deep as it can go. 
“So perfect, perfect bunny for us,” Chan grunts as his head falls to your neck, lips ghosting over the mark he made with fangs. Changbin brings his other hand to one of your ears, rubbing the base in the same way you rubbed his, while his fingers on your clit rub in quickly practiced circles. “Yours, ‘m yours and Binnie’s, bunny just for you,” you affirm, body shuddering when Chan groans in response.
He’s close, so fucking close, but you have to cum first– so he closes his eyes and tries to focus on hitting the spot that makes you see stars, working to stave off his release as long as he can possibly can. And he’s successful, Thank God– between his perfect thrusts and Changbin’s fingers, you’re cumming again in no time at all, the wet spot beneath you growing as you drench Chan in your release. 
He grunts, thrusts reverting back to their sloppier rhythm as he chases his high, his grip on your thighs sure to leave bruises behind. A string of curses leave him as he finally cums, filling you to the point it leaks even as he’s still fully pressed inside.
Your eyes are closed, heavy with exhaustion, but you hear them talk to each other as they wipe your sweat away and clean you up between your thighs. One of them picks you up, Chan you think, while the one you assume to be Changbin changes the sheets for him, absolutely filthy after the night you just shared.
Tired and not entirely conscious as you are, you still snuggle into the chest of the one holding you, and it’s confirmed it’s Chan when you hear him chuckle and whisper something about you being “sweet and cute.” You tiredly whine when you’re put back down, eyes still closed but missing the warmth you were enveloped in, and hear them once again chuckle before you feel them on both sides, pressed against them in the middle. 
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With a struggle, you blink awake, body heavy and eyes still impossibly tired, the darkness surrounding you making it near impossible to tell what time it is. It's clear you're still in their den, and wolves dens are always dark given their nocturnal nature.
You're laying on your back, you realize, Changbin’s arm slung over your stomach while Chan, who is also apparently awake, is stroking your head as he looks at you. “You didn’t sleep?” you ask quietly and he shakes his head, whispering his reply back to you.
“It’s still the middle of the night, sweetheart. We never sleep at night– but well, after what you did to Changbin, he was out as soon as he got comfortable next to you. Couldn’t stay awake even if he wanted to.” You quietly giggle, turning your head to catch a peek at him. He looks cute, peaceful– you give him a soft peck on his cheek before you turn your attention back to the awake Chan.
“He’d lose it if he was awake during that, y’know. He loves cute shit like that,” he says and you smile– you can tell, it’s obvious; Changbin is a bit of an open book, you think. “What about you?” you ask and he scoffs a little, turning his gaze away as a slight smile peeks out on his lips.
“Course. I just don’t make it as obvious as that idiot. Seriously, we have a reputation to maintain.” You peck his cheek, and he scoffs again, trying to hide the growing smile and retain the cool image. “Don’t start– you’re gonna make me as bad as him.”
“Is it going to be morning soon..?” you ask as you lower your head back to the pillows. “It will be in a couple hours,” he replies, turning back to you with a more serious expression, “you need to go back home, yeah? Can’t stay here?”
You frown as you nod, a strange feeling of loneliness filling your gut at the idea of leaving them behind to go back to your cottage. “Grandmother needs me..” you tell him and he hums in understanding, careful not to expose the ache in his chest that you’ll be parting soon– whether that’s courtesy of the mating bite or if it’s feelings he’d have regardless he can’t entirely tell.
“We’ll figure something out. Just get some more rest for now, okay? I’ll be right here.” You nod and close your eyes, relaxing further when you feel him start to stroke your head again. When you shift slightly for comfort, Changbin instinctively holds you tighter; even in his sleep, he has to make sure you’re close.
There’s a lot you’ll have to confront come morning, but you decide to follow Chan’s words and leave it until then. You lay one of your hands atop the one Changbin has resting on your stomach, and use your other to touch Chan, humming happily when he brings his own over to hold it. 
For now, you’ll fall back to sleep, you’ll indulge in the safe comfort you feel while sandwiched between their bodies, holding their hands, secure in the knowledge that even though your life will be drastically different from now, it’s what will make you happiest. A bunny and her two bad wolves, who aren’t actually as bad as they seem– this is where you belong.
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badomensbaby · 9 months ago
Text
middle of the night. lrh
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pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader
summary: you're awaken in the middle of the night by your best friend and roommate, luke, who's having quite a risque dream.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. cursing, degradation, wet dream, slight sir kink, unprotected sex, creampie, friends to lovers without the plot lol.
word count: 3,381
a/n: this only exists bc one of my friends on twt sent me a pic of luke that i can't find for some reason but all it made me think of was roommates x wet dream x well, smut. idk! i hope you enjoy!
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format
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"Fuck, just like that."
It's the middle of the night when you begin to stir, a small ache in your shoulders from the uncomfortable couch you and your roommate had fallen asleep on some hours ago, your eyes hesitantly and sleepily blinking open.
A soft glow of light from the television hardly illuminates the dark living room, a small yawn escaping your lips. A few incoherent mumbles continue to escape your best friend's lips, a slew of stifled moans and shifting limbs following them.
Peeking over your shoulder, you can barely make out the pale boy's features, his eyelids fluttered shut and lips slightly agape. "So good, Y-"
"Luke?" You nudge his bare arm with your elbow, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks at the quick realization he's having a far from innocent dream. You try again, with a bit more force, despite the exhaustion coursing through you from the lack of sleep. "Luke."
"Hm?" the blonde suddenly blinks awake, slightly panicked as he sits himself up, eyes hazy and distant. "What's wrong?"
You stifle a giggle at his wild hair and confused expression, his bare chest still heaving slightly from his startled state. "Nothing's wrong," you say, "You woke me up."
"Oh," a pink hue washes over him, swallowing a thick lump forming in his throat, blinking away the images left behind from his stupid little dream about his pretty roommate. "Sorry. Fuck, what time is it?"
"Uh," you crane your neck, narrowing your eyes to catch sight of the small digital clock on the stove not far from you. "Half past three."
"Shit," Luke quietly hisses, shuffling underneath the knitted blanket covering you both, feeling a bit restricted in his jeans. With each blink of his eyes he can't stop picturing the sinful fucking sight he'd been dreaming about. "Sorry for waking you."
"It's fine," You dismiss him with the wave of your hand, backside still pressed against the boy's clothed thigh, thinking nothing of the position. A small smirk however twitches at your lips. "Dreaming about Julia again?" you tease, pushing your lips to the side.
Luke shoots you a glare, clearly unamused by your attempt at a joke, though his heart skips a beat at the simple idea that you knew what type of dream was unfolding behind his eyelids. "No, Julia's annoying."
"I thought you said Rachel was annoying?" your brow quirks, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.
"I said Rachel's obnoxious," he clarifies with a simple scoff, slinging his arm over the back of the couch, muscles flexing and catching your attention, "Why do you care anyway?"
Your breath hitches momentarily, affected unfamiliarly by the simple sight. You’ve seen Luke shirtless a million times - hell, you've cuddled on this very couch on more than one occasion. Platonically, of course.
You ignore the blush on your cheeks and the small frustration bubbling in your stomach from his question, "I don't," you shrug, though he isn't convinced, "I'd just rather not be woken up by your stupid wet dreams."
Luke's eyes quickly widen, lips parting in slight shock at the confrontation, though he doesn't utter a single word to defend himself. You just offer a simple soft laugh before getting up from the couch, fetching the two of you a glass of water.
When you return, Luke's jeans impossibly tighten at your attire, your crooked little tank top and sleeping shorts, unknowingly bunched at the tops of your smooth tanned thighs. Fuck.
Never had Luke looked at you, his best friend of nearly ten years in a sexual or romantic way, but the absence of a bra on your upper half and the little patch of exposed skin between the hemline of your tank top and waistline of your shorts has him on the brink of drooling.
"Hello, Earth to Luke," your hand waves in front of the boy's eyes, blinking out of his terrible, terrible thoughts to see you standing at the end of the couch, a glass of water in your palm. "You alright?"
A shaky hand reaches for the glass, nearly spilling the liquid all over his lap as he desperately brings it to his lips, chugging the contents in almost record time. Your brow raises curiously.
"You got that worked up over a dream?" You laugh softly, taking a seat beside him, legs criss-crossed while you sip on your own glass of water, no idea the effect you have on the blonde boy at this moment. "Damn, Luke, it's like you're sixteen all over again."
"Shut up," he exhales loudly, placing the now empty glass on the side table, raking a hand over his face. God, why now? Why in the hell is he having inappropriate dreams about his best fucking friend? "Drop it." Luke shoots you a stern glare, only fueling you further.
A mischievous smile appears on your lips, quickly disappearing as you compose yourself, feigning innocent curiosity. "Let me guess," you start softly, pretending to ponder, "Doggy? No, that wouldn't rile you up," you shake your head quickly, fingers tapping on the side of your glass, "Reverse cowgirl."
"Y/N." he mutters through gritted teeth, white knuckling the arm of the couch, fearful to glance at the brunette. "Stop."
"What?" you giggle quietly, "Oh come on, don't go all innocent on me now," your eyes roll playfully, "Not like I haven't heard it all before."
"I'm serious," Luke grumbles, trying to regulate his breaths but struggles, nearly full fucking mass in his jeans now. Thankfully the knitted blanket bunched in his lap prevents you from realizing how fucking turned on he is. "Cut it out."
Luke chooses the wrong moment to glance at you, just as you’re leaning towards the opposite end of the couch to place your half empty glass on the other side table, giving the blonde a perfect view of your backside. Fucking hell.
"You're no fun," you pout, turning back to him and meeting his darkened eyes, barely visible from the glow of the television. To this, your breath falters, noticing his tense demeanor. "What?"
"Go to bed." he suddenly says, not bothering to break eye contact between you two, watching as your tempting little lips part in genuine confusion. Had you pushed too far? Crossed a line?
"Luke, I was just teasing-"
Luke's eyes narrow at you, almost menacingly, enough to make you choke down your words. "Y/N, if you're not in your bed in the next thirty seconds I'm going to do something we can never come back from."
To the blonde's surprise, you stay put. Not out of fear, or worry that you’ve done something wrong, but because you’re simply curious. Folding your hands in your lap, you remain silent, awaiting the boy's reaction with nervously pursed lips.
His blue eyes flicker to those little fucking shorts, hardly covering you, and stifles a groan. "Come here," he says lowly, tongue tracing the inside of his lip. Hesitantly, you slowly crawl the short distance before sitting beside him on your knees. "God damnit, Y/N."
"What?" you ask, nearly a whisper, unaware of the effect you have on him. "Look, if I went too far I'm sorry-"
"Shut up."
"Luke-"
"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N," Luke sighs frustratedly, tearing his eyes from yours, "Do you not get it?"
"Get what?" your fingers anxiously tap on the tops of your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek, filled with worry.
"My dream wasn't about Julia or fucking Rachel," he scoffs, turning to face you again, his adam's apple bobbing slowly, "It was about you."
Your breath hitches. Are you still half asleep? Did Luke really say-
"Me?" you whisper before quickly shaking your head, "Luke, that's not funny, okay? I don't know what game you're playing-"
Your words cease when a warm, calloused hand finds your thigh, gripping the soft skin firmly. "I'm not fucking with you," he tells you, "I don't know where the fuck it came from but those goddamn shorts of yours aren't helping right now."
Swallowing the thick lump of nerves in your throat, the words falling from your lips aren't remotely close to what Luke could have ever predicted. "So do something about it."
"Oh fuck me," a low groan leaves Luke's throat, tossing his head back momentarily, "Don't have to tell me twice."
And suddenly Luke's hand is on the back of your head, pulling you toward him forcefully to claim your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. You instantly melt into him, the taste of popcorn still lingering on his chapped lips from the bowl you’d shared hours ago.
Luke doesn't hesitate to swipe his tongue along your lower lip, pushing your kiss deeper as you brace yourself by grasping at his shoulder, a soft moan escaping your lips, which Luke is eager to swallow.
The blonde's unoccupied hand finds your hip easily, thumb firmly pressing against the bone there, his remaining fingers digging into the fabric of your pathetic excuse for shorts. Your hips instinctively roll at the contact.
Luke's regretfully pulling away, both of you adorning swollen, pink lips and flushed cheeks, even in the low light of the television it was quite obvious. "Fuck, you have no idea-"
"Me too," you cut him off in a whisper, eyes flickering between his and his intoxicating lips. "Luke-"
"Fuck, what've we done?" he mumbles more so to himself, though he doesn't retract his hands and you don’t bother to tell him to. "Y/N, I'm so sorry-"
"Just shut up," you shake your head, free hand grasping at the chain looped around his bare neck and pulling him forward, claiming his lips just as he had done to yours previously. He doesn't protest when you sling a leg over his lap, thighs settled on either side of his, eliciting a deep groan from his throat.
When your lips part, his eyes hesitantly flicker between yours and your new position, your hips flush against his own. "Are you- are you sure?"
You shyly nod. A groan of disapproval leaves Luke's lips, his grip tightening on the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair, pulling you closer to him as if your chests hadn't been brushing the entire time. "Yeah, silence doesn't work for me, Y/N."
"Yes," you breathe out, clenching your thighs desperately, "Yes, I'm so fucking sure, Luke. Please-"
"Fuck," he grits out, hips bucking against your center, "So fuckin' needy for me, aren't you?" When your eyes widen at his crass words, Luke's lips twitch into a sly, crooked smirk, filled to the brim with satisfaction. He tugs the strands between his fingers again. "Aren't you?"
"Yes- fuck."
The hand not grasping your hair retreats to your upper thigh, thumb resting in the crease there, fingernails digging into your soft skin and forcing his clothed length against your sensitive center. "Feel that, sweetheart?" Luke's tone lowers, fighting the urge to moan at the feeling alone, as he breaths low and slow against your lips, taunting you, "I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."
"Please," you helplessly whimper in response, eyelids tempting to flutter shut at the simple feeling, Luke's cock twitching in the confinement of his jeans at your sinful little plea. Never in his life had he imagined a scenario with you like this becoming a reality.
Luke quickly taps your thigh so you’ll raise yourself, allowing him to kick off the thin knitted blanket on his lap, exposing the outline of his achingly hard length in his fitted jeans, the blonde's jaw tensed so hard his teeth begin to ache. He can't fucking begin to imagine how good you’re going to feel wrapped around him.
His ringed fingers fumble with the button and fly of his dark jeans, too fucking anxious to finally set his cock free. He leaves them pooled around his knees carelessly, his fitted black boxers following suit. A soft hiss leaves Luke's lips at the release. You, however, are at a loss for words.
Sure, your mutual friends have always joked about Luke's dick- but never did you fucking imagine there being a lick of truth to their absurd statements.
"You-" you breathlessly choke out, unable to look away from his length, eyes widened and suddenly feeling a stir in your stomach. "There's no fucking way, Luke-"
"What, am I too big for you?" Luke teases in a low tone, a sickening little smirk on his lips, head cocked to the side. "You don't think you can handle it?"
As you’re shaking your head and finally tearing your eyes away, you meet his gaze, hesitant. "I- I don't know-"
He lets out a low, sinister chuckle before his hands are on your hips again, pulling your clothed center flush with his exposed length, ghosting his lips against yours. "Too fuckin' bad, sweetheart, you're gonna take it and I don't wanna hear a single fucking complaint."
A low, drawn out whimper escapes your poor lips, swallowing your nerves while Luke continues to jut his hips. "Yes, sir." the words fall from your mouth before you can even process them.
"Ah, what a good girl, hm?" the boy hums against your lips, "Gonna fuck you so good, Y/N, I promise."
"Please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, sir."
"Goddamn," he pulls away slightly, so fucking hard he's nearly on the brink of orgasm from the simple word alone, ringed fingers retracting from your hip to the thin, stretchy material of your shorts, sliding between your thigh and the fabric until his forefinger finds the dampened material of your underwear. "You want me that fucking bad? Hm? Had to go and get this fucking wet for me?"
"Luke-"
"Fucking pathetic," he scoffs, sending a shock straight to your spine as he slowly teases his finger against you, pressing firmly against your clit like some fucking expert. "Can't wait to watch you sink down on my cock."
You’re already a fucking mess and he's barely touched you, fingers grasping at the thin underwear and sliding them to the side, Luke's free hand preparing himself and pressing his tip against you. "So fuckin' wet, don't need nothin' else."
You suck in a deep, loud breath as Luke begins to push inside, giving you no mercy as his hands find your hips yet again and force you down his entire length, your hands grasping desperately onto his broad shoulders. "Fuck-" you croak out, eyes pinching shut at the sudden stretch. "Oh my-"
"S'okay baby," he coos softly, thumbs pressing firmly onto your hips, no doubt leaving bruises there you'll find in the morning. Well, later in the morning, that is. "M'gonna take good care of you."
Your fingernails absentmindedly dig into his pale, freckled skin, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes. You’d never felt so- so full.
"Please, Luke-" your throat suddenly runs dry, eyes flying open as he uses the grip on your hips to pull your body upwards, forcing your back down onto his length roughly. "Fuck-"
"Quiet," he interjects curtly, "Want you to take my fucking cock the way I give it to you. Cry all you want, sweet girl."
The pain of the stretch doesn't last long, thankfully, though each rough thrust of Luke's hips has your vision blurring, the sound of his thighs smacking against the back of yours bouncing off the walls of your quiet shared apartment.
You adjust to the blonde's deep, rough rhythm, the fabric of your flimsy little tank top settling just below your breasts, catching Luke's eye. Managing to continue his pace, his teeth capturing the metallic black lip ring tucked in the corner of his mouth, one of his hands slides the fabric further until they're both exposed to him.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts softly, wetting his bottom lip due to the tempting fucking sight of you sinking down on his cock like the good fucking girl you are. He cups one of them, a whimper leaving your mouth amidst mumbled curses. "You feel so fucking good on my cock."
"Luke-"
"Say it, Y/N. Fucking say it."
"Sir, please-"
"Fuck," he grits his teeth for the millionth time, the word never growing old as it reaches his ears, before he's suddenly halting, pressing his hips firmly against you until you’re nearly out of breath. So goddamn deep.
It takes less than a second before he's pushing you onto your back, still connected and instead of grasping your hips his hands find your knees, pressing your thighs flush against your chest.
Luke sucks in a quick breath, standing on his knees as his jeans are still pooled around them, restricting him slightly but he simply doesn't give a fuck right now. Slowly retracting his cock, he keeps his eyes on your pretty little lips as he pushes his hips forward suddenly, hitting an entirely new spot and causing a borderline scream to leave your mouth.
"Fuck-" you gasps, lips parting and resting a hand on your bare breast to ground yourself, thighs already shuddering from one fucking thrust. This only heightens the blonde's satisfaction, ignoring the small beads of sweat that begin to accumulate on his forehead. "Oh my fucking god-"
"Fuckin' told you," Luke grunts, a white knuckle grip on your knees, preventing any pushback you attempted to give as your thighs shake beneath his hold, "Told you I'd fuckin' ruin you, didn't I?"
"Y-yes-"
"That feel good, sweetheart?" he rasps, throat nearly raw from the groans and moans he continues to stifle, "Feelin' me so goddamn deep inside of you?"
"Luke, please- so- so deep-"
"Yeah, baby," instead of gripping both of your knees, Luke decides to rest his forearm against them to keep you in place, snaking his free hand between your thighs, attaching his thumb to your sensitive clit, a desperate little whimper leaving you. "You're doin' such a good job, takin' me so well."
You instinctively clench around him, causing a hiss to leave his lips, eyelids falling shut at the overstimulation. "I'm- oh fuck-"
"That's it," he responds lowly, not slowing down his harsh, deep thrusts, rendering you nearly breathless. "Come on, fuckin' cum all over my cock."
"Sir- I-"
"Fuck," Luke grunts, continuing his quick firm movements against your swollen, sensitive clit, as you clench harder and harder around his cock. "Good fucking God, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."
"Please, please cum with me-" you ramble helplessly, eyes flying open and meeting Luke's darkened blues, his breaths growing ragged and chest so fucking tight from the sight of desperation on your face. "Please."
Luke's thrusts grow sloppily, orgasm building quickly in his stomach, lower lip tucked between his teeth. One last particularly deep thrust, hitting that goddamn special little spot has you gasping for breath. Feeling your release coat his length, he finally lets go, hips stuttering to a slow pace, eventually stopping all together.
Both of you adorn heaving chests as the sound of your breaths echo the living room, both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Y/N-"
"Holy shit, Hemmings," You manage to choke out, every goddamn inch of your body now sore, choking back a whimper as the blonde slowly slips out of you. "I didn't- fuck."
"Didn't what?" Luke asks, just as breathless, knees reddened from the friction against the sofa, tugging his boxers up his thighs and tucking himself inside of them. "Are you okay?"
"There's no goddamn way we can ever be friends," You slowly slink your knees down, feet flat on the couch's cushion. Luke's lips pull into a frown at your words, about to interject before a little laugh escapes you. "Not if you fuck like that."
Luke playfully smacks your thigh, "You fuckin' scared me, Y/N, don't do that," he leans forward to hover over you, eyeing the snide little grin on your pretty lips. "Come on, if you shower with me I'll reward you for bein' so good."
Your dazed blue eyes blink slowly, watching Luke smile admiringly down at you. You both know there's no coming back from this, no way you’ll ever be just friends again.
And you don't mind one bit.
"The only way I'm showering with you is if you carry me, I'm fucking wrecked."
"I think that can be arranged."
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