#when his friends already told us they would and he has more friends than me

[lovecla]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[peachysunrize]

All Too Well ⥃ modern!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: a reunion with your ex boyfriend at his mom’s Christmas party shouldn’t end with limbs tangled under a christmas tree, should it?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Mentions of toxic relationships, Aemond goes to therapy, smut, angst, p in v, oral (F receiving), breeding, secret relationships, alcohol, arguments, drunk sex!!! English is not my first language<3

Word count: 4.3k+

A/n: soooo this happened lol and ALSO THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO GAVE ME THIS IDEA!!! I hope you enjoy this!! Comments & reblogs are more than appreciated💕💕

I don’t have a taglist so please follow and turn on notifications for @peachysunrizefics <3

Tension surprisingly is not high tonight despite the entire family being present. Perhaps the three glasses of mulled wine Aegon has thrust into your hand are doing the magic at keeping you sane — or perhaps you are too busy trying to escape the dark gaze of your ex-boyfriend.

It is… something to say the least; Alicent’s party is always extravagant, beautiful, and cozy. She outdoes herself each year by going above and beyond to prepare the eve with the most delicious meals and new drinks, terrifyingly expensive gifts, and last but not least, decorating the mansion with the most eye-catching milestones in every corner — probably Aegon’s doing — and a Christmas tree in every room.

You take a long sip from your glass, humming as the spices in the wine hit your tongue, Aegon’s sigh making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“What?” You hiss, glaring at him as he shrugs and leans on the wall behind you, “It was your brilliant idea to join your family, not mine.”

“Yeah, but you’re sulking worse than me, and no one here has traumatized ya before,” he whispers, pouting as he takes a long swig from his glass, giving you a small yet quick smile.

You sneer at him, recalling every single pain a certain member of this family has put you through. All the tears and screams you shed for him on the bathroom floor, the days you called in sick because you had cried your energy out the night before, the hours you had to spend with Aegon with a fake smile plastered on your face because he could not know anything about your broken heart.

After all, it all happened due to the forced secrecy.

“Right,” you scoff, finishing your drink in one sip before looking at Aegon’s family conversing, only one person keeping himself invisible in the shadows, “That’s why you told me your… brother won’t be here.”

“That has nothing to do with trauma, dumbass,” Aegon says, walking to the long dining table in front of you to grab a bottle of wine and pour a generous amount in his glass, “It’s not like my brother has any interest in you, he is just a fucking sociopath, and a bit fucking weird but ‘s all.”

“Let’s not talk about him,” you exhale sharply, trying to ignore your friend’s point, yet again, the lack of knowledge on what has really happened between you and his younger brother. How could he when Aemond tried his hardest to keep you his secret, a forbidden captive to pour his deranged love into?

You loved him, and he did too! His love was everything you could ever imagine; it was pure, lovely, so warm and world consuming. But then something shifted in him, he wanted you in his corner of the world, tucked away from every eye.

It all started with subtle hints you tried to ignore; you were fine with being his forbidden romance, his lover in the shadows and you knew all too well why he wanted you kept in the dark. He was so in love, so smitten with the way you smelt, the way your lips curled in a smile, your messy hair on the hotel’s soft pillow. 

Your eyes wander around the room, finding Aemond’s eye already on you, his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His eye still weakens your knees; his stare is enough to make your throat dry and your hands tremble. There is not much to do especially when you are used to being the subject of his unwavering attention — most of the time, you would blush and swoon over how he wouldn’t take his eye off you when you both lay on the bed together, but it equally unnerved you how he used to act in front of other people as if he could not care less about your existence, and when he did he was scaring off other men, not allowing them even to have a normal conversation with you.

You avert your eyes back to your glass before you move towards the dining table to grab something to eat and keep your mind from thinking about him and ultimately ruining your night. The spicy taste of Alicent’s cheese twist distracts you for a little, and you can find the strength to look back at Aegon and ignore the piercing gaze of his younger brother.

“This tastes good, your Mum is an amazing cook,” you say, taking another one to stuff your mouth with, and washing it down with a freshly poured wine from your glass.

“Yeah, as if she doesn’t have a whole ass kitchen staff ready downstairs,” he chuckles and steals a bite from your twist, making a gagging sound at the taste, “Holy fuck, how can you eat this crap? It feels like I’ve dumped an entire jalapeno down my throat. Aemond is the same, he can never go without adding kilos of pepper to his food.”

“Stop, Aegon,” you hiss at him, shaking your head as you pinch your friend’s side, “How many times have I told you not to mention him in front of me?”

“Many fucking times,” he groans and leans on his elbows on the table, “I don’t get why you are so defensive about him. He’s a good kid!”

“He forgot my birthday and took you and your family on a fucking trip, so yes, I don’t want to think about him,” you tell him, sighing loudly before leaning back on the wall behind you, “Besides, he always treats me like a piece of trash!”

“He does that to everyone! You’re not different, lemme tell you that,” You know Aegon wants to make you feel better, you know that, but when he utters those words, you can not help but think about how much that statement is true; Aemond treated you like another person who did not deserve him in public while he hated everyone who breathed the same air as you. It was confusing, it was heartbreaking.

You glance back at the spot where you last saw him, only to find him finishing another shot of whiskey, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looks down at his shoes with disdain written all over his face. He looks troubled, his mind is probably racing with a hundred thoughts; you know him too well, all those nights spent in his arms only to listen to his soft murmurs about his family that would always lead to him telling you how much he appreciates and adores you, but can’t let anyone see you being in a relationship with him.

Perhaps it was the duality between obsession and indifference that drove you apart.

With another sigh, you leave Aegon to let him go socialize with his family, smirking when he glares at you with a scowl on his face. But you need to get out of this place and hide somewhere because the more you spend in this huge hall, the more the walls get closer. 

You do not spare him another glance before you walk out of the hall and upstairs, going to the closest bathroom to have a minute for yourself away from him, in hopes of pushing his thoughts out of your head. You can feel the intensity of his stare as he watches you leave, his eye not once leaving your silhouette as you try to hide yourself from him.

You slam the door shut as soon as you step inside the bathroom, chest heaving with each breath; seeing him was enough damage, but to feel him yearning from across the room is worse. You want nothing more than to vanish from this place and never be seen again, but you can’t, and it pains you deeply because you need to walk out of this door with your head held high and act all happy and comfortable while you are bothered by Aemond’s presence immensely.

You put your glass down on the edge of the bathroom sink before you turn on the water and splash some on your face, not caring if you have ruined your makeup or not. The coldness of the water eases your mind a bit, helping you gather your thoughts, but it is not enough, nor were the drinks you took earlier. When it comes to him, nothing is enough to take the edge off.

Looking at yourself in the mirror reminds you of how much you miss having his arms wrapped around you when you were getting ready to leave his apartment or the hotel room, at that moment nothing seemed so out of place, but it all came crashing down because of the two worlds he created and danced around them for too long.

Shaking your head slightly, you take a long and deep breath before grabbing your glass again and leaving the bathroom. You had no wish to go back downstairs, not anymore at least. With one last breath, you close the door before you and march towards another staircase leading to a sitting room you always loved to spend time in when Alicent would invite you over.

Without looking inside the room you open the door and walk inside, making sure to close it with little to no sound, but when you turn around and look up, you find Aemond there, standing in front of the large windows of the room with a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“I–I’m sorry, I’ll leave—”

“Hey-no, no!” he cuts you off quickly, his good eye wide in surprise and fear before he gestures for you to sit, “Don’t, I mean… you don’t have to leave.”

“I don’t wanna disturb you,” you huff nervously, your grip tightening around your glass as you look at him with an equally shocked expression, “I’m so sorry I just—”

“Stay,” he says, and you can see how he swallows his words nervously, his walls crumbling slightly the longer he keeps looking at you, “The room is big enough for at least twenty people so… we’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure—” “Just make yourself at home,” he replies, giving you a small smile before he turns his back to you to stare out of the window, watching the snowfall.

You know he is waiting for you to approach and sit on the loveseat in front of the fireplace but you go and stand in front of the other window on the opposite side of the fireplace from where he is standing, sipping on your drink to distract yourself from thinking about him, which is nearly impossible because you can smell his bitter and cold cologne from here.

You glance at him, finding him nursing on his whiskey; it has been too long since you have seen him so put together and… beautiful. He is wearing an all-black outfit, dress pants, and a black long-sleeve shirt which he has undone the first button. His hair is neatly brushed and he has pulled his locks in his signature halfway-up way that brings his face out more.

You drag your eyes to his hands, clattered in simple silver rings, watching his fingers tap the metal against the glass before you see him turn his body in your direction slightly. His eye meets yours for a second, and suddenly you are the girl who would jump with joy with one of his texts, the girl who would love feeling him breathing her scent in — it terrifies you, the power he holds over you.

“This was a bad idea—” you say, shaking your head but before you get the chance to walk away he grabs your wrist firmly, pulling you back a bit, “Aemond…”

“Don’t leave,” his voice breaks a little, his thumb caressing your pulse point as he looks at you the way he used to do when he would ask you to stay at his place, not wanting you to leave him for even one second.

“We can’t do this again, Aemond,” you say, tears burning your eyes when you look at his face, your heart clenching when you find him in the same situation; teary-eyed and trembling, “We shouldn’t because I can’t go back to the place I was months before—”

“We don’t have to, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” he lets go of your hand, putting his glass on the table in front of the loveseat, “I didn’t have the chance to say anything, you… you cut me off so out of the blue—” “Out of the blue?” you ask, voice dripping with shock and anger, “Out of the fucking blue, Aemond? Ignoring me when we were with your siblings, acting as if I didn’t exist when we were somewhere that we could run into someone you knew! And-and,” you chuckle in sadness, wiping that one tear that slips your eye, “You kept me your little secret while you would tell me that I’m your world, I’m gonna show you off to everyone, you sounded like you were obsessed with me but you couldn’t even hold my hand in front of your brother!”

“Because I couldn’t stomach the idea of you leaving me!” He shouts back, dropping his hands to his sides as he huffs out an angry breath, “I-I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it, and it terrified me so I thought it would be best to—”

“To what? To plan a fucking trip on my birthday and ignore my texts and calls for a whole week? Yeah? Or maybe you thought it best to act like I was a nobody to you when I tried to hold your hand in front of your friends. Which one is it, Aemond?” you step closer to him, craning your neck to look into his eye better, “So? How did it feel when your worlds merged and you lost me? Oh, wait, you didn’t lose anything because you couldn’t care less about me—”

“I care!” he raises his voice a little, fisting his hands to keep himself composed and not touch you the way he likes, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I-I went through the worst thing you can imagine after you left me—”

“Don’t put the blame on me when everything happened because of you and your obsession with keeping me “all to yourself” while you barely looked at me when others were present!”

“Stop! Stop, stop—” he finally reaches up and cups your face in his hands, pulling you in even closer as he leans down to look straight into your eyes, “You’re right, I fucked it up, I…I ruined everything because I didn’t know how to handle my feelings. That… That trip was spontaneous, and I never forgave myself for doing that to you. My head…it gets really messy sometimes and I feared I would ruin the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, and I did, I ruined it.”

“You can’t excuse your actions—”

“I’m not!” he brings your face closer to his until you are only one breath away, “I… I’m sorry, for what I did to you, and-and I am going to therapy… because I thought I might somehow redeem myself.”

“You can’t expect me to take you back, not after what you put me through,” you rest your hands on his, gently pulling them down, letting the tears fall freely on your cheeks. 

It has been a long time since you held his hands in yours, and you can feel the itch in his skin as he tries to fight off the urge to wipe your tears. Maybe he has changed as he says, turned into a better man but you can not be sure, not after the hell you went through and managed to pull yourself together afterward.

“I’m not expecting you to take me back, but please know I deeply regret what I did, and I hope you give me another chance…”

You nod absentmindedly before dropping his hands and stepping away from him, walking towards the door as you try to muffle the sob that nearly escapes your throat, and with one last look at him, you open the door and leave the room.

Resting your back on the closed wooden door, you take a shaky breath, trying your best not to cry your eyes out in the hallway, but it is impossible; how can you not sob when you have been waiting to hear those words for so long? It does not matter if he is genuine or not, you just need to listen to him say he is sorry for what he did.

Now it feels like a weighted blanket has been lifted from you and you can breathe again.

Maybe he is sorry, maybe he is not, but there is something within you that makes your palms sweat. You bite your bottom lip, trying to shake the thoughts of him away, but the way he looked at you, how enamored he seemed… after all, many people close their eyes on logic when it comes to the person their heart is beating for.

It does not matter if you regret this the next day or not, you need to feel him, you need to know how it feels to be loved by him again; so with one last deep breath, you open the door and slam it shut before marching toward where Aemond is sitting — under the Christmas tree with a cigarette in his hand and an ashtray resting next to his hand.

“Wha–” you don’t let him finish, you kneel down in front of him and grab his face into your hands tightly, slamming your lips to his.

He moans, falling back on the ground with a soft thud as his free hand roams your back, feeling the soft silk fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips while he tries to find the ashtray with the other while never breaking the kiss.

“Mmm-are you sure?” he manages to ask between the kisses, finally putting out the cigarette. Now both of his hands come to rest on your waist, holding you close as he waits for you to answer.

“It doesn’t matter if it’ll be the last or the first of many, I just need to feel you,” you mumble against his lips before closing the gap again, letting the savory taste of your wine melt against his bitter whiskey and smoke.

The kiss is unlike anything you have shared before; it is passionate, late lovers reuniting, full of emotions that have been left unexplored yet so familiar and welcoming. It must be the alcohol in your system, but his hands on your body set your skin ablaze, and for the first time in a long time, you feel desperation in his movements.

He sits up quickly, his lips moving in sync with yours before he licks your bottom lip, asking for entrance and when you part your lips, he pushes his tongue in, tasting the wine from your mouth directly while his hands come up to rest on your back, one hand reaching to push the strap of your dress down, caressing the skin with such delicacy that it makes you melt beneath his touch.

He breaks the kiss, looking down at your face as both of you pant and cling to each other before he gently lifts you and switches your positions, lying you on the carpet next to the Christmas tree, humming in delight when you spread your legs to make room for him.

You reach up to pull him down again, lips sealing in another breathtaking kiss. He holds himself up by his elbows on either side of your head while he kisses you back, groaning when you wrap your legs around him and rock your hips up, rubbing your clothed core against his growing bulge.

He pulls back and trails his kisses down your jaw to the column of your throat, going lower with each kiss before he reaches your thighs. Aemond waits for you to give him the green light and when you nod he pushes your dress up to your hips, prepping your inner thighs with kisses and bites before he grabs the waistband of your underwear and pulls the fabric down dropping it to the side.

“Aemond…” you sigh when he wraps his fingers around your thighs and spreads them further, leaning in to lick a stripe from bottom to top, ignoring your shocked gasp as he starts feasting upon you — seems like you were not the only one who has been craving intimacy lately.

He flickers your clit with the tip of his tongue, his chin rubbing against your wet folds. He hums when he hears your little whines and sighs, spurring him on even more to go faster and drive you closer to your peak. 

Your hand goes to his perfectly shaped hair, tangling your fingers in his soft luscious locks. He opens his mouth and sucks on your buzzing nerves, dizzying your brain and clouding your mind with each lewd sound he makes.

He loves the way you push his head down and rock your hips up; he deserves this, to be smothered with your scent and taste, and he would die a happy man if you kept squeezing your legs around his head.

With a newfound determination, he pushes his tongue inside you, thrusting the steady muscle in and out while he reaches to play with your clit with his thumb, drawing fast and firm circles as he brings you closer to the edge of the euphoria.

You moan his name loudly, throwing your head back as your lips fall apart and your body as well, shaking in his strong grip when you come on his face, gushing your juices out with a cry, mind going blank as you shut the world out and focus on the waves of ecstasy that rock your body.

Aemond wipes your release from his face with his sleeve, crawling on top of you with a soft look in his eye before he bends down and pecks your lips while he fiddles with his belt and pants, unzipping them and pushing them down to his thighs, sighing in relief as soon as his cock is free from the tightness of the fabric.

“You’re too far away,” you whine and reach for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nodding quickly when he gives you a few seconds to rethink this, “I want you, please…”

“Don’t beg, sweet girl,” he whispers, lining up his cockhead with your entrance, gently rubbing it up and down to gather some of your wetness before he starts pushing in slowly, “ I’ll give it to you, you don’t need to beg for anything, ever.”

You missed him; the closeness, the proximity, the way his cock always fills you so deliciously. Now with his cock inside you fully, he pulls you in for a kiss, moving inside you with shallow thrusts while his lips steal the breath from your lungs. 

He picks up his pace, his hips snapping to yours repeatedly, his cock reaching deep inside you. You arch your back, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt as you break the kiss suddenly and moan out loud. His hand goes down to your thigh, lifting it higher a bit so he can reach even deeper inside you, fucking you faster and rougher, pouring his regrets into each thrust and snap of his hips.

“Look at you,” he breathes, the hand that was holding your leg up comes to cup your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes as he gazes down at you, “So beautiful, so so gorgeous, fuck—”

You gasp, thighs quivering on the side of his hips as he brings you closer to the edge, him not being far behind either. He looks down at you so… lovingly, as if he is trying to memorize every up and down and lines on your face, counting your lashes and carving the shape of your lips in his mind while his cock throbs inside you.

You both reach your orgasms together; it is warm and slow, a heat that comes from the deepest part of your core and spreads like wildfire inside you, the same applies to him. He shakes and groans your name in your ear, burying his face in your neck as he drops his weight on top of you, hips thrusting slowly as he comes inside you, filling you up with every ounce of his being.

Aemond raises a bit, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as if you hang the stars in his gloomy sky, and perhaps you do.

He finally pulls back, his soft cock slipping out of you with a wet sound and you watch him tuck himself back before he helps you up, handing you your underwear before he stands and holds his hand out for you.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and try to stand up on wobbly legs, but he is fast enough to steady you with his palm on your waist, tightening his grip on you when you bend down to pull your panties up, straightening your back before you look at him.

“I… Thank you.” is all you can say, giving him a small awkward smile before you step forward toward the door, but for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist and threads his fingers through yours, leading you to the door himself, “What are you doing?”

“A second round never hurt anyone, right?” he asks hopefully, a small smile playing on his lips, “I can’t just let you go without giving you a proper orgasm on my bed.”

“Aemond, we can’t, what if someone sees us?” you ask, your heart beating so hard against your chest you can hear it in your ears, but Aemond doesn’t seem to care as he drags you toward the rooms upstairs, “Aemond!”

“Then let them see,” he shrugs and guides you on the stairs, and to your unfortunate luck Alicent and Aegon are coming downstairs, but Aemond pays them no mind as he leads you past them, ignoring Aegon’s shocked gasp and calls for his name.

Maybe he has changed, maybe.

[blog-o-meter]

25 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) decides to get her brother’s best friend’s attention and he’s more than willing to give it to her.

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, brother’s best friend!nicholas, dominant tease/bratty submissive, slow burn, forbidden romance??, implied age gap but not by much tbh it’s mostly just power dynamic

required listening: 25 by Veruca Salt

word count: 7,742

a/n: ik I try to wait a week between fics but I’m sawriiii I just loved this one too much to not post immediately. I do have another fic in the drafts but honestly I hate it now so I don’t think I’ll post that one. anyway im already planning on continuing this one YUPPPPP 🙂‍↕️ i just love listening to my playlist and writing xoxo lmk if you’re a veruca salt fan

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!

I never meant to eavesdrop on my brother’s conversations with him — Nicholas. Their voices, along with the sounds of Call of Duty blasting through the tv speakers, always managed to spill through the Jack and Jill bathroom that bridged our bedrooms. I would catch myself lingering by the bathroom door, my book or phone in hand as a cover, pretending I just happened to be nearby. My brother would crack some joke, and Nicholas’s laugh would come through low and warm, and my skin would prickle at the sound. Or sometimes I’d even hear the salacious stories of Nicholas and his fling of the week. Either way, I listened intently.

Nicholas and my brother have been best friends for years. He just showed up to the house one day and just kept coming back, like what happens whenever you find your best friend for life, like how I did. But my brother and I don’t run in the same circles, not really; he has his friends, and I have mine — and they never mixed, not even at our backyard cookouts where we’d each invite a friend or two. We always found ourselves at opposite corners of the house, and it was probably because they were a little older than us.

As a result, I never bothered, or was too nervous, to exchange more than a few words with Nicholas other than the occasional polite conversation, but he always managed to get under my skin either way. It was like he knew, somehow, like he could see right through me, past all my attempts at being casual or indifferent.

I couldn’t control the way my heart skipped a beat every time Nicholas’s eyes flicked over to me whenever I’d pass by them in the living room or as we passed around plates at the dinner table, especially not when I’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d flash me that all-too-famous smirk. I guess that’s why I eavesdropped on them; it was the only way I got to know him without having to say a word to him.

So, I didn’t know what was so different about that night that I just had to get Nicholas’s attention somehow, even if for just a second. I wasn’t sure if I would’ve bumped into him in the hallway, or even the bathroom, or not, but I still decided to slip into the skimpiest set of pajamas I had — a delicate pair of shorts that barely reached the back of my thighs and a camisole that clung to me like second skin. My mom had told me to never wear it whenever there were people over; it was “too revealing.”

“(Y/N)!” My brother’s voice traveled through the bathroom, shouting over his TV.

Hesitantly, I rolled out of my bed, my sock-covered feet quietly shuffling across the floor over to the bathroom. Before I reached the door to his room, I looked down at myself and suddenly grew shy. Maybe I was trying too hard. Would Nicholas notice? Second guessing my sudden boldness, I carefully hid half my body behind the door frame when I cracked open the door to his room.

My eyes flickered to Nicholas, who was perched on the edge of my brother’s bed, controller in hand, leaning forward slightly as he focused on the screen. He didn’t look over right away, but the second I peeked through the crack of the door, his gaze shifted back and forth between me and the TV, his thumbs hesitating on the controller.

“Yeah?” I asked quietly, trying to sound as casual as possible, one of my feet cricketing against the other. 

My brother barely glanced at me, his eyes glued to the team deathmatch round they were playing. “Do we still have any snacks left in the pantry or did you finish them?”

I hesitated, feeling Nicholas’s eyes on me. His gaze lingered, scanning over what little of me was visible behind the door. His dark brown eyes were unreadable, but there was something in his expression, something curious, that made me feel both exposed and exhilarated.

“Yeah, there’s still some cookies and chips. I'm not a vacuum,” I said finally, my voice softer now and muttering the last part. I rested my cheek against the frame, my gaze flickering between Nicholas, the floor, and my brother.

“Could you bring us some?” My brother asked, his fingers violently attacking the buttons on the controller, the sounds of loud gunshots and footsteps responding to his every button mash. “We’re in the middle of a round.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice even. I pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the bathroom, catching the way Nicholas’s gaze dropped briefly, taking in more of me now that I wasn’t partially hidden.

I ducked back into my room, the air feeling heavier as I padded toward the kitchen. My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alive with the lingering awareness of his gaze. It wasn’t just my brother’s casual request that stuck with me, but the way Nicholas had looked at me — like I wasn’t just his friend’s little sister sneaking glances from behind doors.

In the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled out the cookies and chips, my nerves bubbling as I anticipated the moment I’d walk into my brother’s room wearing this outfit. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected — maybe a quick glance and nothing more, but the idea was scintillating either way.

My mom strutted into the kitchen then, still in her work clothes. “I thought I told you not to wear that when people were over,” she smirked knowingly. I had a little bit of a tendency to defy orders.

I glanced over my shoulder, feigning innocence. “It’s hot out,” I shrugged my shoulders as I closed the pantry and scampered past her with snacks in tow.

I returned to my brother’s room with the snacks in hand, pausing at the cracked bathroom door before taking a breath and sheepishly walking in. I stepped fully into the room, my bare legs feeling more exposed than they ever had before. “Here,” I called, keeping my tone neutral, like nothing about this moment felt significant, even though my pulse told a different story.

My brother barely spared me a glance as I set the snacks down in front of them, his attention glued to the screen. Nicholas, on the other hand, wasn’t as discreet. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over his knee as he finally looked up from the game. His dark brown eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make me feel like every inch of my skin was on display under his gaze.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t smirk or tease the way he usually did. My cheeks burned as I shifted on my feet, my fingers brushing against the hem of my shorts, unsure what to do with myself.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Nicholas said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. It was smooth, casual.

I smiled softly, more out of nerves than anything else, and started to retreat toward the door. “Don’t get used to it,” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. I cast one last glance at Nicholas. He was still watching me, his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smirk. It was like he knew exactly what I was doing.

Now, I don’t know why I did it, maybe because I was so flustered that I didn’t notice or maybe I subconsciously knew what I was doing, but I left my bathroom door open just a smidge, enough for the soft light of my room to spill out and shine through the darkness of the bathroom, like a beacon in the night begging to be followed. Maybe it was a dare, or maybe I was just curious to see if he’d take the bait.

I threw myself onto my bed, stomach down, trying to calm my ever-racing heart as I replayed the moment Nicholas’s gaze lingered on me. I couldn’t bite back the smile forming on my lips as I pictured the look in his eye when I walked into the room. It sent a thrill through me. Did I finally manage to pique his interest as much as he piqued mine?

My heartbeat was unrelenting, so I reached for the book on my nightstand, hoping that reading a few pages might calm me. Of course, though, I wasn’t focusing on the pages. How could I? When my older brother’s hot best friend was right on the other side of that door?

Eventually, the sound of video games and laughter died down as the minutes ticked into the late night, replaced by muffled conversation before trailing off into complete silence. The only sound I could hear, now, was the occasional turn of the page and my thumping heartbeat, maybe the imperceptible hum of the lightbulb coming from my bedside lamp.

And on the other side, Nicholas could also hear the faint scratch of a page turning, too. He was lying down in his makeshift bed of blankets on the floor, quietly scrolling on his phone. The screen of his phone cast a faint glow on his face, but his attention wasn’t on the timeline of tweets he had planned on reading through. It was on that tiny crack of light spilling into the dark bathroom, the faintest view of my room on the other side.

He couldn’t sleep. How could he? The tight, little number I was bold enough to wear but still shy enough to hide behind the door frame, the way I glanced at him when I passed through to give them snacks, the subtle sway of my hips as I disappeared back into the bathroom to my room as if I hadn’t worn that number on purpose. And now, the crack in my door was basically daring him to walk through.

I didn’t know it, but it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed me. He always looked forward to seeing me scamper through the kitchen as quickly as possible whenever they took it over for whatever they were doing, and he was always equally curious about what would happen behind my door, especially when he could hear me laughing with my friends or my CD player blasting Veruca Salt.

His friend — my brother — was out cold, snoring like a chainsaw. Nicholas glanced at him, then back at the door, then back at him, then back at the door. It was a bad idea; he knew it. I was off-limits. My brother hadn’t told him that explicitly, but he did express his distaste when Nicholas made an off-handed comment about me some a couple years ago and that was enough to deter him. But tonight, my brother was asleep, while Nicholas and I were still awake.

Nicholas turned his phone off then, quietly pulling the blanket off himself and standing up, padding quietly to the bathroom and closing the door to my brother’s room behind him. He tiptoed toward my door, taking a peek through the crack and hoping that maybe just indulging himself in the image of me would satiate him. But the moment he saw me on my bed — twiddling with the end of a braid or two or many as I laid on my stomach, propped up on my elbows as I read, my legs crossed at the ankles, the pajamas I wore barely covering anything — he knew just looking wouldn’t be enough.

My heart raced when I heard the faint creak of my door, but I didn’t look up right away, choosing to pretend I was so engrossed in my book that I couldn’t be bothered to see what had made the noise. What did make me glance over my shoulder, though, was the light clinking of glass.

I turned my head and saw Nicholas leaning against the doorframe curiously inspecting a nail polish I had left on the dresser that was near the bathroom door, a smirk on his face. That set my heart racing.

“Nicholas,” I spoke quietly as I closed the book in my hands, watching him as he continued to fiddle with the things on my dresser — nail polishes, bracelets, a hairbrush.

Nicholas didn’t say anything at first, just let his dark brown eyes sweep across my dresser one last time before they swept across my room, then finally landed on me and took in the scene — the book in my hands, the way I was sprawled across the bed, the faint flush on my cheeks that I couldn’t seem to shake.

He glanced over his shoulder back toward my brother’s bathroom door, still closed, before looking back at me. “Are you usually up this late?” he said finally, his voice low, like he was afraid of breaking the stillness of the moment.

I turned onto my side, giving him a better view of me in my pajamas. His gaze lingered on my torso, and I bit back a smile. “Sometimes.”

He dropped his arms and stepped in, his movements unhurried as he quietly closed the door behind him and looked around my room. I couldn’t believe it. He was in my room.

“Your brother’s out cold,” he said, almost like an explanation, as if I didn’t already know. He turned his head to look at the Heart poster on my wall, arching his back to stretch, his shirt riding up a little to show off the happy trail adorning his lower abdomen. I just about choked at the sight.

When he looked back at me, he had that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You left your door open.”

“Did I?” I asked quietly, lying back down on my stomach but looking at him over my shoulder.

His smirk deepened, like he didn’t believe me for a second. “Didn’t you?”

My stomach flipped, the challenge in his tone making it impossible to look away, but I had to if I didn’t want him to see the heat rising to my cheeks. So I turned my attention back to my book but the words blurred together. I couldn’t focus, not at all. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

He stepped further into the room until he was at the edge of my bed looking down at me, still smirking. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

I shrugged, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the pages. I decided to give him an out, something that would test his resolve. “My brother’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I shifted slightly to face him. “I know,” he whispered as his eyes trailed my bare legs.

He slowly laid down on his side beside me, and it all started with a touch — his hand reaching out to rest on my thigh, his palm hot against my skin. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my leg drift closer toward him, the faintest encouragement.

“I should go,” he murmured softly, his fingers brushing up and stopping just short at the hem of my shorts. His eyes flicked up to mine, gazing at me through his abundance of eyelashes.

I couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the way they softened as they met mine, yet held something deeper — something that made my pulse race. I was quiet for a moment, savoring the heat of his hand on my hand, the warmth spreading all over my body. “Yeah, you should,” I whispered, my voice lacking any real conviction.

Neither of us moved.

Nicholas’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze flicking to my lips, then back to my eyes. His hand inched higher, stopping just at the edge of my shorts again, as if he were waiting for a signal. And I gave him it, letting my book fall through my fingers and shifting closer toward him.

That was all it took. He leaned in, his hand sliding up my thigh as his lips captured mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. It was slow at first, like he was testing the waters, but it didn’t take long for the tension between us to boil over. Quickly, the kiss deepened. His hands roamed, pulling me closer as I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Tell me to go,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm on my skin.

I tugged him closer, “Stay.”

Nicholas’s weight pressed into the mattress as he rolled me over, his hands sliding along the curve of my waist and down to my hips as our legs tangled together. My fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer as the world outside my room melted away. Every shift of his body against mine, every brush of his fingertips against bare skin, ignited a fire I couldn’t ignore.

His lips trailed down to my jaw, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of heat rushing through me. His breath was warm against my neck, and I arched into him instinctively, feeling his body tense in response.

I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he obliged, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles moved as he leaned back down, his delicate chain dangling over me, his hands framing my face like he needed to commit every detail to memory. My own hands wandered, exploring the warmth of his skin, the tension in his back as he pressed closer.

The cool air hit my skin as he slid the strap of my camisole off my shoulder, his lips replacing it with a trail of soft, heated kisses that moved to my collarbone. My heart raced as I looked up at the ceiling of my room, every sense heightened as his hands roamed lower, his touch firm but unhurried.

My breath caught in my throat as Nicholas’s lips continued their slow descent, every kiss igniting sparks along my skin. My hands moved of their own accord, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I arched into his touch. His hand slid under the hem of my camisole, his fingers splaying over my ribs as he paused to look at me, his dark brown eyes asking the silent question.

I nodded, and his lips were back on mine in an instant, the kiss growing more intense, as he bunched the fabric in his palm and pulled it off of me, leaving me bare-chested. He pulled back and drank the sight of me in, his jaw going tight as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine.

For a moment, I grew self-conscious, thinking maybe he would pull away completely now that he’s seen me half-naked. Maybe I didn’t measure up to the girls he’s been with. “Is something wrong?” I quietly asked.

Nicholas shook his head almost immediately, his forehead still resting against mine as he let out a shaky breath. His hands moved to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as his dark brown eyes opened to meet mine. They were softer now, but no less intense.

“No, fuck no,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to find the right words and failing. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “You’re perfect, (Y/N). That’s the problem.”

The raw honesty in his tone made my breath hitch, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping for a moment before flicking back up to him. “Then why did you—?”

“I needed a second,” he interrupted softly, his voice almost strained as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin. “You’re just—you’re making it really hard to be the good guy here.”

His words sent a rush of heat through me, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched his face. “I’m not asking you to be the good guy,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

“You sure?” he murmured against my lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back. Your brother’s gonna kill me if he finds out, and I don’t—” He broke off, his jaw tightening as he pulled back to look at me again. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

I reached up to frame his face, my thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as I held his gaze. “I want this, Nic,” I said softly, my voice steady now despite the chaos in my chest.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. Then, with a quiet curse, he groaned quietly, like he was fighting an internal battle, before he leaned down to kiss me again. This time, it wasn’t tentative or testing — it was all-consuming.

I gasped softly into the kiss, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine with a heat that made it impossible to think straight. His hands slid down my sides, his touch rougher now, less restrained, like he was done holding himself back.

Nicholas’s lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I couldn’t bite back the quiet moan that escaped me. He groaned in response, his fingers gripping my hips tightly as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Jesus, baby, you’re gonna wake the whole house,” he muttered, his voice rough and muffled against my skin.

I let out a breathless laugh, tugging on his hair to make him look at me. “You’re the one talking so much,” I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. “Oh, is that right?” he said, his tone low and dangerous as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re the one moaning like you don’t give a shit if your brother hears us.”

My cheeks burned, and I glared at him, my hand smacking lightly against his chest. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, but the smirk at the end of my lips betrayed any conviction I’d intended to convey.

Nicholas caught my wrist gently, grinning and clearly pleased with himself, and pinned it against the pillows above my head, “And you’re a fucking tease,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eyes. He planted a wet kiss on my lips, murmuring, “Okay, we both stay quiet then, deal?”

I bit my lip, narrowing my eyes at him, the corner of my mouth twitching with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible but dripping with playful defiance.

Nicholas’s grin deepened, and he leaned down, brushing his nose against my own before pulling back completely and resting back on his heels as his fingers trailed down to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers lingered, his touch light but deliberate as his dark brown eyes locked onto mine. His teasing smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something that made my heart pound harder than I thought possible. He hesitated for just a second, like he needed one last confirmation, and I gave him a small nod, my breath catching in my throat as I lifted my hips slightly.

He exhaled softly, almost like he was steadying himself, before he slid my shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving me completely bare beneath him. The air felt cool against my skin, and I had to fight the instinct to cover myself. Instead, I forced myself to hold his gaze, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing.

Nicholas’s eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every detail to memory. He let out a quiet curse, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on my stomach and leaving lingering kisses near my navel.

My fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as I looked down at him. He rested there for a moment, his breath warm against my skin as he closed his eyes, like he needed a second to process everything.

I let out a soft laugh, the sound trembling slightly as I tugged gently on his hair. “You’re so dramatic,” I teased, my voice light but full of warmth. “Are you sure you’ve seen a girl naked before?”

He shot his head up, his eyebrows flared in surprise, and for a split second, I thought I might’ve caught him off guard. But then his smirk returned, sharper now, and he grabbed both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he shifted to cover me completely. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that,” he growled playfully, his voice dropping an octave as his free hand skimmed down my side, his touch light but promising.

I squirmed under him, trying to hide the way his teasing touch was already getting to me. I don’t know what it was about Nicholas that brought out this side of me — teasing, defiant — but I loved it.

“You’re such a—” My words cut off in a gasp as he pressed his hips against mine, the sudden pressure of his sweatpants against my bare self making me lose my train of thought completely.

Nicholas chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “What was that, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug. “You were saying something?”

I glared at him, my cheeks burning, and wriggled my wrists under his palm, “Nic, the longer you’re not inside me, the more time you’re giving my brother to wake up.”

Nicholas froze, his dark eyes widening for just a second before narrowing into something almost predatory. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips turned wicked, and his grip on my wrists tightened slightly as he pressed his forehead against mine. But then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Fine,” he murmured, his tone dropping even lower, sending a shiver down my spine.

He released my wrists, and I immediately brought my hands to his chest, letting my fingers trail over the defined muscles before sliding them down toward the waistband of his sweatpants. My heart raced, my cheeks burning as I hooked my fingers under the fabric.

Nicholas shifted slightly, propping himself on his elbows as he watched me, his dark eyes hooded with intensity. The faint smirk tugging at his lips remained as I hesitated for a moment, my fingers gripping the waistband of his sweatpants. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and steady, as if he were daring me to go further.

Slowly, deliberately, I tugged the fabric down his hips, the soft material sliding against his skin. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, and I couldn’t help the way my breath hitched as his length slipped out — ready and aching. The tension between us was palpable, the room heavy with anticipation as I pushed his sweatpants lower until they pooled around his knees.

Nicholas’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but not rough as he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips capturing mine in a way that made me forget everything else. His body pressed against mine, the heat of his skin sending a rush of warmth through me as his hands trailed up my sides, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath my ribs.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, our breaths mingling as we stared at each other, the unspoken tension between us reaching its peak. Nicholas’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes searching mine as if he were asking for permission one last time.

I didn’t bother nodding. Instead, I reached to wrap my hand around his length and guide him in, to which Nicholas responded by burying his head in the crook of my neck and muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” before reaching to replace my hand with his own. “You’re so wet already.”

The air seemed to still, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of sheets and our breathing — ragged, uneven. Nicholas moved slowly at first, his grip on my hips tightening as he inserted himself into me. I let out a whimper as I felt every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled me, his warmth burning into me like a fire I never wanted to put out.

My hand found its way to his back, my nails digging lightly into his skin as I arched beneath him, a quiet gasp slipping past my lips. “Nic…” His name came out in a breathy whisper, and the sound of it seemed to spur him on. His hips moved, deliberate and measured, and every movement sent shockwaves through me.

“Baby,” he murmured into my neck, his voice strained and breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”

The heat pooling in my stomach grew with every roll of his hips, my body responding to him in a way that felt instinctual, like I had been waiting for this moment all along. His hand slid down to grip my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist as he angled himself deeper, drawing a sharp cry from me that I quickly muffled with my free hand.

“Shh,” he teased softly, his lips brushing against my ear as he chuckled, though his voice was tight with restraint. His breath was warm against my skin as he added, “You don’t want your brother barging in, do you?”

I shot him a glare through my haze of pleasure, but it was useless. Nicholas was in control now, and he knew it. The rhythm of his hips changed, slower but impossibly deeper, making it even harder to stay quiet. I bit down on my lip, my hand reaching to clutch at the sheets as waves of heat rolled through me with every deliberate thrust.

Nicholas shifted slightly, his lips brushing over my jawline before capturing my lips again in a kiss that was just as demanding as the way his body moved against mine. His free hand trailed up my side, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin just below my ribs, making me shiver beneath him. His hand trailed further down, pressing down on my lower abdomen as if he could feel himself moving inside.

The added pressure made me gasp, my head tilting back as pleasure rippled through me, sharp and consuming, and quickly I covered my mouth again. Nicholas groaned in response, the sound low and guttural, and I realized just how loud he was getting. My heart raced, panic and desire tangling together as I reached up and pressed my other hand over his mouth, muffling the next moan that slipped from his lips.

His dark eyes widened in surprise for a split second before narrowing, a flicker of something mischievous and dangerous sparking there. His hips slowed, the deliberate roll of his body against mine making my own breathing hitch. He didn’t protest my hand, though — instead, he leaned into it, his tongue flicking out to trace along my palm teasingly, his eyes locked onto mine as if daring me to keep him quiet.

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was useless. Every movement of his hips, every flick of his tongue against my skin, was breaking me down piece by piece. He shifted slightly, angling deeper, and I bit down hard on my lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.

I peeled the hand I had over my mouth, “Nic,” I hissed under my breath, my voice shaking as I glared at him. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned against my hand, his dark eyes hooded and filled with heat as his hips rolled again, drawing another muffled gasp from me. His free hand slid up my thigh, gripping firmly before pulling my leg higher around his waist, allowing him to press even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and my fingers flexed against his face as I tried to stifle my own sounds.

Nicholas groaned again, louder this time, and I pressed my hand harder against his mouth, shooting him a warning look. “Shh,” I whispered harshly, my voice trembling as I struggled to keep my own composure.

He nodded slightly, his lips brushing against my palm in silent agreement, but the way his hips moved told me he had no intention of slowing down. If anything, his pace quickened, each thrust more precise, more deliberate, as if he were testing just how far he could push me before I completely unraveled.

My hand stayed over his mouth, but I could feel the vibrations of his muffled groans against my skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. My free hand clutched at his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as my body arched beneath him, helpless to the rhythm he’d set.

The tension between us was unbearable, every movement, every touch pushing me closer to the edge. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as I fought to stay quiet, to stay in control. But Nicholas wasn’t making it easy. The hand he was using to press down on my lower abdomen slipped between us, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot where our bodies met, and I couldn’t stop the sharp cry that escaped me.

His eyes flicked up to mine, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as they remained muffled against my hand. He pressed his fingers harder, circling with just enough pressure to send me spiraling. My body tensed, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure crashed over me in waves, and I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. That’s when he let go of the thigh he had wrapped around his waist and guided his hand over my mouth, pressing down to muffle my sounds.

And now, we were both there, covering the other’s mouth with our hands, trying so hard to fight back our moans. All we could hear was the sounds of skin and our labored breaths blowing through our nostrils.

The room was thick with tension, every sound amplified as we moved together, muffling each other as if the act itself were part of the thrill. Nicholas’s hand covered my mouth firmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine as his hips drove deeper, more deliberate. Each thrust sent waves of heat rippling through me, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of control.

My breaths were shallow, uneven, my free hand clutching at his shoulder as the tension in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. His other hand slid down my thigh, pulling my leg higher around his waist to angle himself deeper, and the sensation was overwhelming. My head tilted back, the cry building in my throat muffled against his palm.

I was close — so close it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire. Nicholas must have sensed it because his pace quickened, his movements more erratic as he chased the edge with me. His lips curved into a smirk against my hand, but the dark intensity in his gaze told me he was just as affected.

When the tension snapped, it was like a dam breaking. My thighs trembled around him, my breaths coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, as I arched beneath him, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so powerful it left me shaking. Nicholas’s hand pressed tighter against my mouth, muffling the sharp cry that escaped me as I clung to him, my nails digging into his back. He groaned in response, his movements faltering as he watched me fall apart beneath him, my hand covering his mouth falling limp over my forehead.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. His hand stayed firmly over my mouth, his other sliding down to hold my hip as his pace grew erratic, desperate.

I barely had time to catch my breath before I realized he was close too. His movements grew rougher, his control unraveling as his own breathing turned ragged. The hand covering my mouth loosened slightly, and I took the opportunity to nip at his finger, earning a low growl from him as he pulled it away.

Nicholas’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with surprise. “What the hell—” he started, but I cut him off with a fierce whisper.

“You better pull out,” I hissed, my voice sharp despite the trembling in my tone.

Nicholas’s jaw tightened as my words registered, his dark eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and urgency. His breath hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him as he fought for control, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “I’ve got it,” he muttered, his voice strained and low, almost as if he were trying to reassure himself as much as me.

“Nic,” I pressed, my tone firm despite the lingering haze of pleasure coursing through me. My nails raked lightly down his back, urging him to listen, to not lose himself completely.

He nodded, his movements becoming deliberate, careful. His hand shifted to grip my waist tightly, steadying himself as his breathing grew heavier. “I’m not gonna—” His words cut off with a guttural groan, and I felt his body tremble against mine, his restraint fraying with each passing second.

At the last possible moment, Nicholas pulled out with a strangled curse, his hand reaching down to finish himself. His dark eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenched as his release spilled across my stomach, warm and lingering. The sight of him unraveling like that, the raw vulnerability etched into his features, made my chest tighten.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing, his body still hovering above mine as he tried to catch his breath. His head dipped forward, his lips brushing softly against my temple as he whispered, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my voice catching slightly as I answered, “Yeah, I’m okay.” My hands found his shoulders, grounding both of us as he shifted to sit back on his heels. His gaze softened as it roamed over me, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret.

“I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse and unsteady, but I cut him off with a small smile.

“You didn’t,” I reassured him, reaching up to trace the edge of his jaw.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated like before; it was gentle, filled with a quiet kind of affection that made my heart ache. When he pulled back, his fingers brushed lightly across my stomach, his touch careful and almost apologetic.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached over to grab a discarded shirt, maybe mine, from the edge of the bed.

I rolled my eyes, my lips twitching in amusement as I watched him carefully clean me up, his movements surprisingly gentle despite the teasing smirk still tugging at his lips. When he was done, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my stomach, his lips lingering for just a moment before lying  down beside me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His body was warm and solid against mine, his breathing still slightly uneven as his fingers traced idle patterns on my shoulder.

The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. Nicholas’s fingers moved gently across my skin, as if he were trying to map every inch of me. My cheek rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath my ear. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, even as a thousand unspoken thoughts swirled between us.

It felt natural, lying there with him. His hand slipped to my hair, tangling in the strands softly, and I let out a contented sigh. Neither of us said anything for a long time, the stillness interrupted only by the sound of our breaths syncing together.

Nicholas was the one to break the silence, his voice low and husky. “What time is it?”

I blinked, my mind still clouded from everything that had just happened. I tilted my head toward my bedside table, squinting at the digital clock. “Almost three,” I mumbled.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face while tightening the arm he had around me briefly before letting out a resigned sigh. “Your brother’s gonna wake up in a few hours.”

“Exactly,” I muttered, untangling myself from his arms and sitting up, “which is why you need to get out of here.”

Nicholas smirked as he sat up as well, his dark brown eyes watching me closely. “Kicking me out already?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I’m starting to feel used, baby.”

I rolled my eyes, climbing out of bed and walking past my dirty camisole that was discarded on the floor to reach into my dresser and pull out a clean shirt, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You’re the one that asked me to stay,” he quipped, leaning back on his hands as if he had all the time in the world.

I shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to amuse him further. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grabbed my shorts from the floor as I walked back over to the bed and tossed them in his direction. “If you’re so eager to hang around, you can help me get dressed. I think that’s the least you can do after fucking your best friend’s sister.”

Nicholas froze for a moment, his smirk faltering as his dark eyes widened slightly at my words. A laugh escaped him, low and incredulous, as he shook his head. “Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Am I wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed my shorts from where they landed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he beckoned me closer with a playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, princess. Let me help.”

With an exaggerated sigh, I stepped closer, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed my nonchalance. Nicholas patted his thigh, gesturing for me to stand between his legs. His hands were warm as they slid up my calves to my thighs, holding me steady as he crouched slightly to help me into the shorts.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he guided the fabric up my legs. He tugged the waistband gently, his thumbs brushing against my hips before snapping the shorts into place. His dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, the teasing glint softened into something quieter, something that made my heart stutter.

I reached for the clean shirt I’d left on the bed, but Nicholas beat me to it, picking it up with a smirk. “Arms up,” he instructed, his tone mockingly authoritative as he held the shirt open.

Rolling my eyes but unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips, I raised my arms, letting him slip the shirt over my head. His hands brushed against my skin as he adjusted the hem, smoothing it down over my waist. When he leaned back on his hands to admire his handiwork, his smirk returned, but it was softer now.

“There,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, my stomach fluttering. I bent down and reached for Nicholas’s clothes and tossed them to him.

Nicholas caught the bundle of his clothes easily, the smirk on his face growing as he stood to pull his sweatpants back on. I watched as he stuffed his dick into his sweats, my cheeks growing hot as he then slipped into his shirt. The chain around his neck glinted faintly in the dim light as he adjusted it, his dark eyes flicking back to mine.

Nicholas smiled softly, running a hand through his tousled hair as he stepped toward the bathroom door.

I followed him as he reached for the door, keeping my voice low. “Please don’t tell anyone about tonight.”

He turned to face me, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe as his smirk softened into something more genuine. “Relax, baby. Your secret’s safe with me.” The teasing lilt in his voice was gone, replaced by a quiet sincerity that made my chest tighten.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. “Good.”

He pushed the door open slowly, peeking into the bathroom to make sure it was still quiet on the other side. Just as he stepped through, he glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk returning in full force. He winked, disappearing into the bathroom with a quiet click of the door.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door as the reality of everything that had just happened settled over me.

My skin still tingled everywhere he’d touched me, his hands, his lips, the way his voice had dropped when he whispered my name. It all replayed in my head, over and over and over. With a deep breath, I turned back to my bed, doing a horrible job of biting back the smirk on my lips.

I should’ve been panicking — thinking about what my brother would do if he found out, but all I could feel was a heady mix of excitement and disbelief. I had just slept with Nicholas, my brother’s best friend.

[luminique]

Fate, Hollows, Grief and Lighter.

cw // mentions of death, angst, comfort. 4.8k words, not proofread, lighter x gn reader. happy birthday lighter !

You don’t have to be an expert to understand that hollows are confusing. There’s a lot of mystery that goes around them despite the amount of resources that is put into its research. Everyday, it’s some new discovery, some new technology, some new treatment related to them. You told Burnice to switch through the other channels on the mini television at the bar, you didn’t get much of the newer shows in the Outer Ring but you did get the boring news channel.

“Joining us for today’s program is Miss Hoshimi Miyabi from the Hollow Special Operations Section 6. I believe that she needs little to no introduction as your team has been making the rounds online with the most recent case,” a man wearing a black suit, presumably the host, guided the camera over to the thiren next to him with his hand. You’ve seen her before, the proxies that the Sons of Calydon have worked with also mentioned Section 6 as one of their clients. Not everyone can just step into a hollow, even the proxies themselves don’t go in there willingly.

After a moment of silence between the host and Hoshimi Miyabi, the man finally breaks the ice. “Well, we are not here to discuss the controversy; however, there has been a recent discovery regarding the hollows. According to the White Star Institute, your team was able to control Hollow Zero and noticed how time was affected in there. Can you please elaborate on that?” The host was clearly uncomfortable by her quiet demeanor, thinking he’d be interviewing someone who was not as unapproachable as her.

Time, huh? That’s nothing new, even the Tour de Inferno had improved its recording equipment in order to reduce the delay between the inside and outside of the hollow. “Yes, due to its high ether energy, Hollow Zero has the ability to manipulate time, causing us to fight ethereals we had initially already taken down.” The fox thiren finally spoke, her voice was clear and confident, fitting for a chief. The host beamed at her answer, you could see the worry in his eyes when she took a moment to respond to him. “Were there any other anomalies aside from that? The claim coming from the White Star Institute is rather large and I believe that viewers at home would love to hear your experience.”

Lighter notices you staring at the screen intently, it was a rare sight for you to be so engrossed in such a show. He taps the counter a couple of times as he sat on the stool next to you, Burnice immediately understood what that gesture meant. His hand came up to your side, resting it on your hip. “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” his smooth voice cut through your train of thought. You barely even noticed him, finally back from a few small fights but barely even a scratch on his face.

“They’re talking about hollows, those proxy friends of yours should know more about it than this old man on the screen.” you pointed the remote at the screen, not changing the channel though. “My deputy chief, Tsukishiro, found herself reliving a moment from her past relating to another member of my team. Asaba said that he was beginning to see the same ethereal over and over again. For me, on the other hand….” a moment of silence from the young lady as her hands gripped on her neat skirt. “I was able to see other possibilities of my past decisions and how they’d affect my current self.” Her usual commanding voice began to sound slightly weak and shaky yet her expression never faltered.

It slowly clicked in your head. This new discovery was not the simple time manipulation that had been publicly known for years, it was instead a lot more complex. A lot scarier, a lot more complicated and even went into the realm of alternate timelines. Was that even possible? Time travel and theories of alternate timelines have been one of humankind’s biggest questions. Would this not have been found out earlier while researching other hollows? Every smaller hollow around Eridu came from the existence of Hollow Zero, what made those any different?

You turn to look at Lighter, his usual laid back demeanor now mirrored yours. He hadn’t even touched his drink once since Miyabi had spoken. “Now look who’s the one staring at the TV,” you teased as you pushed on his shoulder lightly. His sunglasses slipped down his nose bridge, he cleared his throat as he pushed his shades up. “I just thought it was interesting, nothing more,” he pretended to not show how much that information meant to him.

If you could do it all over again, would you? The opportunity was presented right at him, albeit from a boring show on the TV. Rarely was it ever on this channel, as Burnice would normally choose to have it on some sort of sports or music channel. However, she’d listen to her customer in front of her and on this early evening, it was only you sitting there.

The thought was intriguing, he did have a higher ether aptitude than most. Venturing into hollows alone, with a carrot, wasn’t anything new to him, especially not after the passing of his fallen comrades. He doesn’t know exactly where they were last but he’d often bring flowers to where he found their dog tags, at least he knew they were there at one point. He knew that time worked differently inside the hollows, communication becoming an issue inside and outside of it, but he didn’t know anything more than that was capable.

No, no. He can’t just go into Hollow Zero and come out unscathed like it’s a normal fight. He could live his whole life not knowing what would’ve happened if he had chosen to go with them but the knowledge that he can, at least, see its possibility… that was eating at him. After you had teased him, the idea was still there. Who wouldn’t want to know what happened during that one moment in their life? Who wouldn’t want to know the answer to ‘what if’ and ‘if only’? He shook his head, trying to get rid of the curiosity building up in him.

Cold glass, the refreshing drink that he had gotten accustomed to since joining the Sons of Calydon now tasted bitter. No lollipop in his pocket to distract him from his thoughts. Another harsh swallow, he placed the glass back on the counter. “Do you want another glass? Maybe some Nitro-Fuel instead?” Burnice’s cheerful self was always ready to fill a glass up despite knowing that he doesn’t prefer the taste of Nitro-Fuel on its own. Now though, it sounded just perfect to make him forget this information.

Night time came, the howling winds kept Lighter awake. Usually he would have passed out already from the amount of Nitro-Fuel he drank but for some odd reason, he couldn’t now. It wasn’t odd at all, he knew why he was awake. Haunted by the memories of a not-so-distant past, the voices of his comrades rang in his ears as he got up from his bed. His bright red scarf that contrasted his usual outfit, was now stuffed deeply into his jacket. The soft clinging of the dog tags were now muffled by his scarf, his heavy footsteps making his way out to his bike. The only way to forget is to completely kill a man, erase his memories and the possibilities that he can come up with.

With his past as mercenary leader, getting to Hollow Zero wasn’t a mystery. Many have gone there in hopes of getting rich, finding some sort of ethereal matter, or maybe searching for whatever was left of the person they once were. Dodging a few military bases, back roads and, going through smaller hollows, Lighter found himself right at the edge of Hollow Zero. There were a few close calls on his way here, but nothing a Carrot can’t solve. The convenience of modern technology, able to find the safest route out and predict any new changes in the course of being in the Hollow. If only they could predict the possibility of his friends passing that day.

He parked his bike, brought the little bangboo off his bike and took a deep breath. “Lighter…” He heard the faint whispers of his name as he stepped into the pitch black sphere, the voices sounded oddly familiar to him. An older breathier male voice, a deeper younger male voice, and a reassuring female voice all coming together to call for his name. No, he can’t be hearing things. He was still young and had just entered the hollow. Signs of corruption did not include hallucinations, nor did it include any sort of hearing problems. He ventured deeper into the hollow, bangboo by his side to make sure he’d make his way out.

Ethereals came at him but they were no match, one after another. A swift punch before landing his finishing blows on them, he dusted off the little bits of burnt etheric matter off his shoulders. “Lighter! There you are!” He immediately prepared himself for another fight, quickly looking around for the source of that voice. No ethereal was in sight however, maybe it was paranoia striking him once more. He decided to take a break somewhere off to the side, taking a serum to reduce ether corruption. He closed his eyes, the rubble of the Fallen Eridu surrounding him as he was taken back to his days of a mercenary leader.

He remembers it like it was just yesterday. The smiles on their face, the laughter, the drinks, the bets, everything that your typical mercenary group does. They were his comrades, his friends, his family at the time. He was still new to leading a team, choosing to go for the higher paying jobs in the hollows rather than outside work. He’d come back with a few bruises here and there, getting patched up while trying to split up the money they received. The hands of Dane scruffing Lighter’s hair, or Nick reminding him to stop smoking, or Ratena drinking another pint of Nitro-Fuel with him. He could see and feel those memories so vividly…

“We’ll be heading out now, Boss.” Dane gave a hearty pat on Lighter’s shoulder, a firm goodbye grip to tell him to rest. Lighter chuckled as Dane finally let go,“It still sounds weird…” he added on, believing that such a title isn’t fit for him just yet. “Ratena, you got the med kit ready?” He asked the tomboy-looking female who was always prepared when it came to injuries. Even his now fractured arm was taken care of by her, proving her deep knowledge in the field of first aid. She nodded towards him with a small wave of her supplies in hand, “All ready, Lighter!” Nick gave a weary smile, one that was oddly energetic for a much older man than everyone else in the group.

“Take care, everyone. Remember what we’re going in there for, retrieve the item and receive our cash,” everyone looked towards their leader, Lighter giving them one last reminder before they headed off. All of their dog tags hung around their necks, reflecting the bright sunlight and Lighter’s own reflection. “Be back safely!” Dane’s little sister began waving goodbye as they watched the team head off straight into the hollow. Lighter knew of the dangers that they could face while in there, especially with the lack of a Carrot. Those don’t go for cheap however, good and reliable info about hollows aren’t easy to come by at low prices.

That final goodbye would serve to be his biggest regret in life. A wound that can never be healed no matter the amount of times he went back to the last place he found their tags. He had called out for them and yet no response, shouting into an endless void. What would’ve happened if he had followed them that day, not heeding their advice and sacrificing himself alongside them. Non-existent answers to a question that has ruined a young man of his own mental freedom.

Boss… Kiddo…. Lighter….

Was he going insane again? He opened his eyes, expecting to see nothing just like before but this time, he was outside of his old mercenary camp. A distant woof could be heard as an eager dog ran right up to him, pouncing onto him. ‘What? This… this isn’t right…’ Lighter thought to himself. Was this some sort of deja vu? A dream of some sort? The dog licks Lighter’s face, excitedly panting and sniffing him. This felt a little too real for him, running his hand through its soft fur.

“Lighter! We got another commission today. Gotta go into this hollow, grab this ‘mysterious item’ and they’re paying us big time,” Dane came up behind him and petted the dog, throwing a small ball to allow Lighter to get up. Lighter turned around, seeing the large man with his familiar beanie towering over him. He fell back, not believing what he was seeing. Was he dead? They do say that the brain replays the best moments of one’s life before death, but this seemed less like a memory and more like reality.

This was just the day before their deaths, was this his second chance? “I was able to see other possibilities of my past decisions and how they’d affect my current self,” the fox thiren’s experience now making sense as he looked up at his should-be-dead companion. “U-uh yeah. Dane, sorry but I don’t think we should accept this mission,” Lighter grabbed Dane’s hand, his fractured one still healing in its cast. Dane blinked at his teal-haired leader in confusion, not expecting him to decline such an offer. They walked back into the home, Ratena and Nick coming up to them with big smiles on their faces.

As Ratena tended to Lighter’s fractured arm, they all discussed their plan regarding the new mission. “They said it’s just a box, bring it back safely and then we’ll get paid,” Dane said with lots of enthusiasm, playing around with his little sister. Nick gave a hearty chuckle, petting the dog as he spoke, “It’s not easy, my boy. Look at what happened to Lighter the last time we went into a hollow.” Both men looked over to Lighter, seeing the effects of an ethereal attack and Nick being physically unfit to keep up with the rest of the group. Before Ratena could give her input, Lighter interjected with the knowledge of their future. “I really don’t think we should go. Hollows are dangerous and just like Nick said, ethereals are no joke.” Lighter hoped they would understand him without him needing to explain to them why they shouldn’t go.

Ratena shook her head, “Oh c’mon Lighter, you don’t trust us? We got out safely last time and we made big bucks.” Safely? Was having a fractured arm considered safe? Was bleeding out his side considered safe? “Guys, you can’t be serious.” Lighter was in disbelief, he remembered his initial response in his past. He had agreed wholeheartedly to the offer, thinking that such a huge sum of cash was what they all needed to live better lives. Now with his knowledge, he didn’t want to lose them. Not again, he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

“Yeah boss, we know how hard you’re working. You gotta rest up and we’re more than capable of taking down those ethereals.” Dane gave him a wolfish grin, clearly oblivious to why Lighter was so against all of this in the first place. “We’ll leave in the morning, be back by sunset.” Nick had the whole plan laid out on the table, trying his best to reassure their worried leader. Everyone went to their sleeping quarters that night but Lighter couldn’t sleep at all knowing what would happen to them. He laid awake in his cold bed that his body used to find solace in, but now reminded him of the hard shell of a coffin.

Sunlight came streaming through the windows, Lighter was the first to get up, the rest unknown to his lack of sleep. Everything replayed exactly as it did on that fateful day; Dane placing his hand on Lighter’s shoulder, Ratena waving her first aid kit in the air, Nick’s energetic smile that highlighted his wrinkles. He can’t relive this, he can’t let this happen. “W-wait!” They all turned back to him, stopping right in their tracks. Lighter had already told them to take care, what else was there to be said? ‘Don’t die’? ‘Don’t go’? ‘You’ll all die and I won’t be able to find you’? He had recurring nightmares of this exact moment multiple times before this and yet, the words were stuck in his throat. “I’ll miss all of you.” Lighter couldn’t stop them, even if he tried. Fate is cruel in that way, never is it a choice, unable to be changed. As he watched them leave again, tears began to prick his olive eyes. He closed his eyes, trying to blink away those tears but also look away from his regrettable decision.

The sandpaper-like wet and warm muscle went up Lighter’s cheek again. He blinked open his eyes, seeing the familiar sight of yesterday. Was this some sort of hell? A never-ending cycle of living his lifelong burden he carried with him. As expected, Dane’s voice could be heard once more, grabbing Lighter up from the ground and bringing him back into the camp. As expected, they had planned to take up the offer because money is money and they were mercenaries first and foremost.

He was determined this time. If he couldn’t stop them from going, at the very least he had to make sure to go with them. Ever since that day, he had been yearning for death. If Fate won’t change his friends’ passing, maybe it will be kind enough to change his. “I’ll go along,” Lighter’s confident voice cut through their chatter. “But boss, you’re being stretched thin.” “Your condition still isn’t fit for a mission in a hollow.” “Take it from an old man, you deserve the rest, son.” All of them gave their own concerns to Lighter’s suggestion–arguably, it sounded closer to an order rather than a suggestion–but he didn’t want to listen to them. He was adamant, also having his own power as their leader to push himself into this plan. He was willing to do anything, not caring about his injuries. With little to no luck, they accepted his persistence, each slowly heading off to bed to prepare for the early morning.

He had dreamt of this possibility for days, maybe even months. His body was definitely not in the best shape but if he could spend just a few more minutes with his comrades, his limbs could be torn off by an ethereal and he’d still smile through it all. It all played out exactly as his memories, this time he was joining them. As they walked together towards the hollow, Lighter began to feel dizzy. His vision slowly blurred, however his companions continued to walk forward.

“Dane! Nick! Ratena!” Lighter called out to them, yet they didn’t turn around, not even taking a moment to stop. “No, no, no no no no NO-” He tried running towards them but the distance just kept getting further and further. Running infinitely, trying to catch up to them but with his poor condition and slowly darkening eyesight, he couldn’t continue anymore. He came to a stop, looking down to his feet and seeing something shine in the dust. As he bent down, his eyes widened in surprise. It was their dog tags; Dane, Nick, and Ratenna, but there was one more with its name turned over. Lighter Lorenz. His name. How was that possible? His hand immediately went to his neck, searching for his tag that always hung around there. It wasn’t there. That was his dog tag, on the ground, with the rest of his mercenary companions.

He fell to his knees, understanding the possible outcome of this decision he could’ve made back then. Who would have found these if it weren’t him? Who would carry on their stories if he had gone along with them? What does that mean for his current present self? Questions bounced around in his head, holding those dog tags close to his chest. Tears began to trickle down his face once more, sadness being a common emotion at the end of all of these possibilities.

As he blinked away those tears, his surroundings had also changed. His bangboo would’ve notified him if he walked into a fissure so there was no way that he did. The setting sun of the Outer Ring burned his pupils, a scenery that he has become more than accustomed to since joining the Sons of Calydon. He hadn’t made any regretful decisions since joining, so there has got to be a reason that he’s experiencing this random day again.

He heard footsteps coming up behind him, followed by the sounds of feminine laughter. Despite being called the Sons of Calydon, it was a biker gang filled with mainly women. Currently, he is their champion, always winning and never turning down a challenge. They all stood side by side next to him, joking and teasing around with each other. “Caesar! Did you use my makeup again?” Lucy was trying her best to pull the tall green-grey haired woman down to her height. Piper barely kept her eyes open while Burnice was drinking another pint of Nitro-Fuel down as they all watched the sunset together.

“I can always buy you more makeup, Lucy.” Lighter offered, his used to be young voice was now a lot deeper. None of them replied to him though; Caesar and Lucy still argued with each other, Piper was trying her best to stand up straight, Burnice started playing her songs. Was he being intentionally ignored? He remembers this moment, him heading out to Lumina Square and there he met you. His life had fully turned around when he joined the Sons of Calydon, understanding what it meant to be a Champion. Not just theirs, but yours as well. He had people he wanted to protect, disasters he wanted to prevent.

Fate played its tricks on him once more. He had his ‘second chance’, choosing to die alongside his comrades and now he had to ‘live’ as a ghost. Lighter was slowly trying to figure out how Hollow Zero was affecting his memories and ‘fate’. None of this was real–he knew that at least–but he had to admit that it felt real. Would he be satisfied with death? Would he be satisfied with his story not having a proper ending? His movie could be hours long, but after 30 minutes, there would be an abrupt black screen.

‘The aim of all life is death. Only there can we find true peace.’

This wasn’t the peace that he wanted. He craved closure, real end credits to his tragic documentary. If the aim is death, then he’ll live until he’s tired of it. Until his face becomes sore from smiling with you, until his taste buds turn numb with the lingering after notes of Nitro-Fuel, until his eyesight becomes hazy from the bright lights of the city, until his ears start ringing because of everyone’s laughter.

He yearned for death, believing that regret was all he could carry in his heart. Love and companionship changes a person, losing it turns them into a monster. He knows how it feels to have survivor’s guilt, he now knows how it feels to have so much love left to give but ultimately ripped away from him. Care, love, remorse, regret, they all went hand in hand when it came to Lighter, he can’t have one without the other. Tough decisions, bad mistakes but they all ultimately led him to where he was now.

He felt the Outer Ring’s breeze brush his face, a soft and gentle reminder of his new home and his new family.

Lighter opened his eyes once more, a small LED screen with crying eyes were barely inches away from his face. His hand went up to give the little bangboo a pat on the head, making it immediately spring back to life. “Hey, little guy. You think you can get us out of here?” Lighter asked as he slowly pushed himself up, seeing a few ethereals around. The bangboo began running through the hollow, following its Carrot to find the nearest exit out of Hollow Zero.

A couple of punches before swiftly sliding away. His top priority was to get out safely, not to fight every ethereal in his path. This ever changing maze proved to be difficult to navigate, the poor bangboo constantly finding a new route. After winding through the ruins of Old Eridu, they finally made it out of Hollow Zero. Further away from where they initially entered, however nothing too far to walk to. The sun was beginning to rise now, painting the sky in light gold hues. As he drove back to Blazewood, he took in the early morning sights of the Outer Ring. After living in the shadows for so long, he remembers his first purchase since being saved by Big Daddy. He used a little bit of the money to purchase his first and only pair of sunglasses. In order to help him acclimatize to bright life above those fighting rings while helping him with his hemophobia and eye injury, he thought that the shades would be a good start to his new chapter. Everything was a change of pace, including these.

“Lighter! There you are!” He immediately froze up. Those were the same words he heard in the Hollow. Was he still in there? He got off his bike and turned around slowly, preparing himself to see nothing again. “Where were you? I was worried sick last night when I went over to your room and you didn’t respond.” Your concerned voice put him at ease as he looked at you. “Uh um… my bad. Just… wanted to go for a late night drive,” his voice was shaky, hoping you wouldn’t see through his lie. Your brows furrowed as you looked him up and down, he felt as though he should just die because of your intense gaze. “Without me?? Next time I go to Lumina Square, I am not buying you the super pack of lollipops,” you teased him. He let out the biggest sigh of relief, for once not worrying about whether he’d get his favorite grape-flavored lollipop.

He removed his glove off of his hand and brought it up the side of your face. Your soft skin under his calloused hands, this felt like his true reality. He could see the way you scrunched up your nose, your eyebrows raised as he began caressing your cheek. “I missed you,” he whispered out, just loud enough for you to hear. It was still early in the morning, not as many people out just yet so he could allow himself this vulnerability for just a moment. Especially after realizing the possibility of never seeing you again, never seeing the girls again, he doesn’t know if he’s ready to go just yet. “What are you saying? Did you hit your head on a cactus?” Your hand went up to his, cupping it against your face as you nuzzled into him. He couldn’t give this up, never in his wildest dreams could he imagine a decision better than what he made back then.

“I just thought I should tell you. I lo-“ just as he was about to finish his words, Piper comes up in Steeltusk, parking the truck right next to the both of you. “You youngsters are so energetic these days…” She commented as she filled up the truck with some fuel, chuckling to herself. Both of you turned a little red, Lighter especially. Everyone knew of your relationship and yet it was still a little embarrassing to be so outwardly in love with each other. Lighter cleared his throat, thinking that Piper was still the same as she was in his memories. The rest of the girls were probably still asleep but this was all he needed to confirm that he was indeed out of that damned hollow.

With your hand in his, he knew what was waiting for him at the end of his life. The Sons of Calydon that he sworn to always win for, his mercenary comrades that haunts him every night, the friends he had made through the Tour de Inferno, and his love that was willing to be with him through it all. Fate is unfair, humans do not have the power to change what has already been decided. However, being human means having the power to live your life to its fullest, accepting what fate has in store and learning from it. Lighter will carry his regrets and burdens with him, over into the afterlife and even when all he becomes is a humble cactus to poke you.

[theaceofarrows]

Something that just came to me...is that UMA would know that Hook and the Hooklings were NOT in fact dead.

What if during Bridget's coup it somehow came out that she was the hooklings mother (Uma would already KNOW that but not that Bridget is under the impression that they're not alive) and that she thinks her kids and husband are dead.

Uma freezes in her 'card holders' arms and is like "wait...you think Hook and his/your kids are DEAD? Harry's not DEAD! None of them are! How long have you been thinking their dead?!"

I'm just imagining Uma hearing this and stopping her fight with the guards out of pure shock. Harry had told her more than once about the day that his family was separated. His father, sisters, and himself dragged from his mother and home and carted off to the Isle.

Uma knows the whole story and all the details that Harry could remember at three years old, but neither Harry nor Harriet, for that matter, had ever seemed to think that their mother may think them dead. That, even more than the coup itself, was the biggest shock to her.

To add to your dialogue, imagining Uma saying, "You really think they're dead? I talked to Harry just this morning." Bridget freezes for just a second at hearing Uma say his name because Bridget never gave any names, but she quickly recovers and accuses Uma of lying. Saying it's a trick, a trick using her dead family.

Uma doesn't stop, though, saying, "I've known Harry since he and the rest of his family were first tossed inside the barrier. Harry's been my best friend since we we're kids. He's my first mate. He's my boyfriend. He's very much alive. They're all alive."

Bridget angrily says that that's impossible. She saw what they did to her husband. She saw how they grabbed and treated her children as if they were nothing. How she didn't see them in the Looking Glass.

So Uma says, "You and his dad met in high school, right?" It's not a question. "My aunt and uncle- heck Hades and Maleficent too, say that Harry looks just like he did back then. You can see for yourself. I have pictures of him on my phone."

When Uma gets her phone out of her pocket, Bridget has one of the guards seize it, so she can't try and contact anyone for help. After that, Uma says through clinched teeth, "Fine, since I can't use my phone, there's a picture of him on the wall in my office. You can't miss it. He's the dark-haired one dressed in black," she looks Bridget in the eye and says knowingly, "He's the one holding the hook."

It's a whirlwind from there. Guards retrieve the picture, and when Bridget sees it, she gasps and holds her chest as tears form in her eyes. Because that's the little boy who was taken from her, who used to follow her everywhere around the castle proudly proclaiming that he would protect her. It's him, but at the same time, not.

She has Uma call Harrry away from the rest of the hostages. It's on speaker phone to make sure she doesn't try anything. Uma tells Harry some of what's going on, that there's a coup going on, and that she needs him at the school now as quickly as he can be and to come alone.

I'm not entirely sure of the order of things after that, but I think this would be a good start.

I headcanon that after the welcoming ceremony, Uma planned on bringing Bridget and Red to her office to tell them that Harry was her new vice principal, that he was originally supposed to be there for the ceremony, but the weather from the port he sailed out of had delayed him, but he would be there in a few days.

But of course, because of the coup, none of this is able to happen.

Thanks for the ask!!

[apathyandmischief]

Forget throwing my phone at this point, straight men make me wanna throw my whole ass self into a lake

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i just think if roles were reversed and buck was the one saying those gay ass lines to eddie, eddie wouldve proposed like four seasons ago

[exopelagic]

talking to him more very much achieved. we just talked for like 4 hours in the kitchen holy shit I need to sleep

[beloveds-embrace]

(firefighters!141 x chubby reader… 👁️👁️ )

A friend of yours is a fire chief for your town’s local fire station. They ask you to help the fire station do some training drills for rescue operations. Your friend says it’s because you have acting skills, but you both silently acknowledge it probably has to do with the fact that you are chubby. Not fit, not thin, not easy to carry as evident by all the partners you’ve dated before- whatever you wanna call it.

It’s alright, you are pretty used to it. If they weren’t your friend, you would have honestly refused and saved yourself the inevitable humiliation, but alas. You are used to it, you really are.

You are introduced to Captain John Price, who holds your hand so warm and snug you have to will your blush away, but there’s nothing that can help you as he lays a big hand over your lower back and leads you to the waiting firemen. Three men, though you expected far more but John- Call me John, sweetheart. Captain is just for thos muppets- explains that they’ll be doing it in groups.

You are introduced to the three firemen (a Scot, and two Brits. Johnny, Kyle and Simon respectively. Unlike the other two, though, Simon is wearing a balaclava) and by god, you almost want to say that just for today, there is a different source of water they can use-

“Lay down here, sweetheart.” John’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and with a blush, you scramble to obey. The good girl you receive in return might as well be the best thing you’ve even been told in your entire life and the heat between your legs agrees as well.

Though you are quickly reminded that this will probably not go so well, considering your size and everything and maybe you should just apologize and leave already-

Before you can think about leaving, Johnny steps forward with that smirk he’s had since the beginning and a glint of mischief in his eyes. He crouches down next to you, stretching his arms out. “Alright, lass,” he says with a wink, “don’t be shy now. Let’s see if I’m up for the challenge.”

Before you can even process it, he slides his arms under you and lifts you up effortlessly- still mindful of your “injury”. Your face goes bright red as he shifts you in his grip, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He gives a low whistle as he run around with you in his arms, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Not too bad, eh? Thought I’d be struggling, but you’re light as a feather.” His grin widens, smug, as he watches your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect me to be so strong, did ya, lass?”

You mumble something incoherent, trying to avoid his eyes, and he laughs, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest. When he finally sets you down, you’re left feeling a little dazed, and before you can catch your breath, Kyle steps in and helps you lay back down.

“Alright, my turn,” he says with a gentle smile, his hands warm and careful as he reaches down to lift you. His grip is steady and secure, and he holds you with a tenderness that has your heart pounding in your chest. Unlike Johnny, Kyle doesn’t say much, but he gives you soft, reassuring smiles that somehow fluster you even more to the point where you really, really just want to bury your face in his shoulder. His arms feel solid around you, and there’s an easy confidence in the way he carries you that leaves you a little breathless.

“You doing okay, doll?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, and you nod, struggling to keep from blushing harder. He catches the faintest smile on your lips and chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he gently sets you back down.

Simon is next. He’s quiet as he approaches, his intense gaze flickering over you. Without a word, he slides his arms under you and lifts you in one smooth motion that leaves you drooling (in more ways than one). His hold is firm, and you can feel the strength in every part of his frame. If you weren’t playing the role of an injured, barely-conscious woman, you would honestly be begging to feel under his clothes.

He doesn’t say much as he carries you, but his steady breathing and the quiet intensity in his eyes speak volumes. You can barely hold his gaze; there’s something about his silent, stoic demeanor that sends your heart racing.

Finally, John steps up, and you realize you’re already blushing before he even touches you. Honestly? You doubt your face will return to normal anytime soon. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet authoritative. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you with an ease that leaves you a little lightheaded. The warmth of his embrace and the strength in his arms make you feel small and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. It leaves you breathless, but in a good way. John holds you close, his breath tickling your ear as he chuckles. “Not so bad, is it?”

By the end of it, your cheeks are burning, and the four of them are all sharing knowing smirks- you can even see the slightest crinkles of Simon’s eyes.

“Well, I’d say you’ve helped these muppets passthe test alright, sweetheart.” John huffs, his voice warm and full of amusement, and the others chuckle in agreement, each of them clearly enjoying your reactions far more than you anticipated. You can barely meet any of their eyes, your heart still pounding from the attention- and the teasing glances they keep exchanging make it clear that they noticed every flustered look and blushing smile.

As you’re still catching your breath, John tilts his head, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, and continues. “Well, we’ll have to call you back soon for another round, sweetheart. Can’t let the boys get rusty.” he teases, giving you a wink.

Johnny chimes in with a grin, taking your hand and kissing your palm. “Aye, can’t let you off that easy, bonnie. We’ll need plenty more practice to make sure we’ve got it down, yeah?”

Kyle nods as well, his gaze fixed on you. Never before have you had so much attention on you, and you never realized how much you quite love it. “Wouldn’t be proper training without our favorite helper.”

Simon, ever the quiet one, just gives you a small nod, but there’s a glint of promise in his eyes that makes your stomach flip.

You can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth you didn’t expect filling your chest. “I’ll… I’ll look forward to it. I’m glad to be of help.” You manage, your cheeks still tingling from the attention.

As you turn to leave, maybe go and ask your friend what else they could need you for since you are such a gracious friend, John’s voice calls after you, low and steady. “Soon, sweetheart.” The words linger, making you wonder just how soon “soon” might really be.

You hope it’ll be soon enough. Very soon enough.

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[unladielike]

    Vivian nods away in agreement for to her, having a considerable amount of burgers without any soda didn't seem like something that's really heard of... and yeah, perhaps there were way better palate cleansers to be had than carbonated drinks, but as this was a food truck and not a restaurant, the selection of beverages they could realistically order would understandably be a bit limited.

    "Welp, I wouldn't go as far as to say I necessarily understand 'everything', per say, but yeah, once you manage to live through twenty one years on this planet, you start discovering some pretty basic stuff... like, for instance, how the human body gets thirsty if you consume salty snacks yet do not occasionally bring yourself to drink water throughout regular intervals," Vivian states. Granted, most would consider that to be 'common sense', but as per usual, she frames it more like an academic study than redundant knowledge nobody would truly bother disputing.

    Either way, it doesn't take long for her bespectacled gaze to soon settle on the drinks menu, which was situated to the right side corner of the food truck... and to her delight, Coke was listed as one of the drinks that were available to order, causing her to clasp both hands together.

    "Ooh, what do you know?! They do indeed have Coke! No Fanta to be seen, though... then again, at least we aren't forced to choose Pepsi, which is the mid alternative to Coke," Vivian pipes up. Of course, after the final customer leaves, she'll then finally pull out her wallet before turning to Mizumachi. "Alright, so to summarize super quickly... we want ten teriyaki cheese burgers with two cokes?" Vivian repeats in order to ensure they were on the same page.

[水]

“Bia is so smart! I love it!”

Who knew there was such a place so close by? He hadn’t found the place yet, and who knew how long it would’ve taken before he found it. The food truck  now had a new fan who was bound to visit pretty often any time homesickness struck him- which was surprisingly often if he was left alone with his thoughts.

The jock laughs at the comment that the food truck wasn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t sprout legs and run away—but it had wheels, didn’t it? Couldn’t it drive off?

“Yeah! A Teriyaki cheese burger sounds great!”

Sometimes, he’d go into restaurants and find that the food was very different compared to his expectations, but if going by the smell alone, he was sure that he was going to like the burgers here. He normally wasn’t that picky when it came to food anyways, but still! It was a kind of betrayal for someone who craved familiar tastes to walk into a restaurant and walk out of it confused over what he’d actually eaten. He learned the hard way that many ‘fusion’ places weren’t… the best. Guess not every fusion was stellar and epic. Sorry Goku and Vegeta.

“You really understand everything, huh? You’re right! If you’re going to be eating a lot of burgers anyways, ya gotta drink something that pairs well with it. Coke is the best! Fanta is also good, though.”

If you were going to be eating your fill of burgers, was there really any real difference if you chose to drink soda over water? The difference was minor at that point, so there was no point in picking straws. Water was his preferred drink for regular hours, but if he was doing rigorous exercise, then he would reach for sports drinks to replenish his electrolytes. Soda was for whenever he was treating himself to some junk food. Might as well go big or go home (and eat healthier).

[blkkizzat]

YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit

⟢ rating: mdni.18+ each episode will have its own ratings but general warnings— lactation kink, face riding, drugs (weed, alcohol, cigs), infidelity, yuji is sukuna x reader child, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, masturbation, dubcon/noncon, squirting, pussy talk, biting, creampies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, yandere, Toji in daddy and dad mode. this will be fem black reader coded as reader is foreigner and uses some aave but no other descriptors. ⟢ total run time: 𝟏𝟑.𝟒𝐤 of ? ⟢ opening theme: Rich Baby Daddy - Drake

⟢ subscriber access: tag request in comments, previous tag list from the teasers are already accounted for. ⟢ director's note: this fic is to celebrate my year of having this account! literally this is the first fic i thought of and wanted to write and have been working on it since nov'23. so full circle moment fr! i hope you enjoy it. ⟢ executive producers: special thanks to @littlemochabunni, @ryomens-vixen, @yung-notorious and @buttercupblu143 for helping me beta this and bounce off ideas and listen to me be crazy for the past 9-10 months about this fic 🥹.

꒰ disclaimer: this is a plot-driven eventual smut fic and is told mostly in Toji POV through flashbacks until the end of episode 3. so if you stick with me i promise you a freak nasty pay off in episode 4 💕🤭. the build up makes it 100x better, trust~ ꒱

🎬 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓—

🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟏: ❝ I STILL GOT SOME LOVE DEEP INSIDE OF ME, PLEASE DRAG IT OUT OF ME ❞

⟢ Reflecting on the last 3 months of meeting you during a time of organizational unrest, how did casual desire turn into a sinister obsession for a deadly yakuza assassin like Toji Fushiguro? It's your fault though, as a new resident of the yakuza luxury high-rise, The Nursery—shoulda known better than to have smiled that brightly at a single-dad widower, mamas. episode run time: 𝟒.𝟕𝐤

🎞 ️𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐: ❝ POPPIN' MY SHIT COME WITH CONSEQUENCES, POST NUT CLARITY I CAME TO MY SENSES ❞

⟢ With tensions in the organization at an all-time high and a traitor still on the loose, everyone is on edge. Fortunately, Toji has been watching over you for weeks, especially since Sukuna has been even less attentive. But when Toji notices you making a new friend—a potential lifeline apart from him—can he keep his jealousy in check? Just how far will Toji go to have you all to himself? episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤

🎞 ️𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟑: ❝ WE FROM TWO DIFFERENT WORLDS BUT IT'S A MATCH TO ME ❞

⟢ Forced to make difficult choices this past week, it's becoming increasingly clear Sukuna's loyalties lie more with the organization than you. But of course, as chance would have it, Toji is there to console you when you have no one. Who needs Sukuna, friends, or anyone else when you have Toji? Toji can see the cracks forming in your resolve—but when he pushes, will you still be able to resist his charms? Or will you crumble in his hands? episode run time: ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟒: ❝ JUST SAY GOODBYE TO HIM, THEN TAKE THE RIDE TO ME, RIDE TO ME ❞

⟢ Circumstances align and you're practically served on a platter to Toji, he takes this as the prime opportunity to finally claim you as his. Toji deserves you. You know this though, so he won't have to do a thing—you'll come to him all on your own like a good sexy lil' milf won't you, mamas? Nevermind about your world falling apart around you—Toji has already made all of the arrangements to see that you and Yuji are taken care of. episode run time: ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

🎬 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓—

🎞️ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝟎 𝐄𝟏: ❝ WANNA STICK AROUND FOR THE RIDE? BABY HOLD ON TIGHT ❞ AKA "DON'T DROP THE PANCAKES"

Prequel/Standalone. Yakuza!Sukuna x Exchange Student!Reader. ⟢ Moving to a foreign country for school ain't all sunshine and rainbows—especially when your student status prevents you from acquiring legitimate employment. Good thing a friend of a friend has a connect for under-the-table work. Although, being a topless maid for a ruthless yakuza leader wasn't on your bingo card for your new life abroad—especially when you end up pregnant. episode run time: ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ under your roof ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ your baby daughter really likes uncle wade’s roommate, and logan would be lying if he said he didn’t form a quick attachment to the two of you as well┊2.9k words; prt one (here), prt two, prt three coming soon!!

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: probably occ logan, he’s on his best behavior, mostly fluff with a little side of angst, single mother reader with an unspecified age, this chapter is mainly between logan & your daughter, reader has a bad relationship with the father & he’s an asshole, one joking threat of stabbing

➤ author's note: this was so much fun to write! single mom reader and her daughter are so lovely and i have two more part featuring these two and logan coming up! i hope you guys enjoy

kids don’t like logan. it’s not a profound discovery nor is it a surprise to anyone who learns this fact. he’s intimidating enough to make some full-grown men piss themselves with so much as a glare, much less little babies who start sobbing uncontrollably when they see a giant scary man walking around believing that he would eat them or something even though he’s literally just standing there. whether the little ones have an instinct that signals him out as a mutant or he simply looks like a bad man from one of their fairy tales, he isn’t sure, but it’s not the best feeling either way when he’s trying to settle back into normal life with the constant weight of knowing that he’ll never fit in.

it doesn’t help that, in general, he isn’t good with kids either. he’s generally patient with their immaturity since they don’t know any better, but he finds the crying and whining extremely headache-inducing to his sensitive senses without a clue how to calm them down.

moving in with wade and acquainting himself with his friends was a start, but the missing part of his life to make him finally feel loved and at home was the family of two who lived downstairs. the first time he met you was also the first time he met your daughter when wade told him to dress a little nicer because the two of them were invited to your place for dinner. he explained that the two of you were practically siblings and that it would probably be something he should get used to, reminding him to “turn that frown upside down” because he was about to meet someone who “puts gordon ramsey to shame.”

the last bit sounded great to him, especially because no one in their household knew how to make anything more complicated than noodles without setting it on fire and the cost of outside food was really starting to tally up. still, he just wore some cargo pants and threw on a leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair once which was already a lot more effort than he’s ever put into meeting anyone else before.

wade didn’t even bother knocking, just being himself and picking the lock as he so typically does, kicking the door open and yelling a loud ass “daddy’s home!” which echoed throughout the apartment as well as the hallway they were standing in. the mouth-watering smell of grilled salmon filled the air, making wade hum in excitement, “do you need help with anything? taste testing, perhaps?”

“no, do me a favor and stay away from the kitchen!” your voice rang out loud and clear, sounding much like a mother scolding a teenager for the thousandth time. “i’ll stab you, do me a favor and just hang out in the living room.”

“okie-dokie!” he responded in an annoying sing-song voice, “come on, peanut, take off your shoes.” the said man could already tell how at home his roommate seemed in this place, just as comfortable as he was back home, walking with steps he’s taken many times before and prompting logan to do the same (except he was mainly keeping to himself and being much more mild-mannered in this unfamiliar area).

the place was as spacious as the small area could be and tastefully decorated, but all sharp corners of furniture were taped over to dull the edges and the carpet had multiple kinds of colorful toys littered about. in the center of it all, was a little toddler about two or three years old, playing with a kitchen set and trying to copy what her mom was doing by running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. she didn’t even notice the two men at first, not until wade called out her name and she dropped the plastic utensils to clap her hands together before waddling over to him.

“hey, baby! how are you doing? did you miss me?” he cooed in the high-pitched voice reserved only for mary puppins, reaching down to pick up the girl by her underarms and kissing her cheek, spinning around with her in his arms as she giggled uncontrollably. “do you wanna meet the big scary wolverine while i go bother your mommy? who am i kidding, of course you do!” he then dropped her onto the couch, making sure that she didn’t bounce up too high on the cushion and hurt herself. “okay, you keep her company while i go see what’s for dessert— bye!”

before logan could say anything, he was already gone, disappearing around the corner into the sound of sizzling foods and the scent of herbs. pursing his lips together and shuffling his feet around for a second, he grunted and braced himself for the child to start sobbing uncontrollably because she was left alone with him. the first time he meets you, whom he’s heard so many good things about, is going to be when you have to kick him out with his tail in between his legs for disturbing the peace of your home.

but the cries never came, and his eyes met her big curious ones as she just stared up at him in silence. it was honestly a tad bit unnerving like she was sizing him up and carefully thinking about her next move. 

and then she started giggling like earlier, kind of a more gurgling noise of playfulness more than anything, standing at his feet and waving around her short outstretched arms to signal that she wanted uppies from him.

“oh no—“ he’s not sure why he even let out a word or protest to begin with when he knew she wouldn’t listen, but it was pure instinct since, once again, he had no idea how to handle children. although she would probably also start crying if he didn’t listen to her, so he reluctantly bent down to pick her up, holding her close to the side of his chest and nervously awaiting her next move.

she was motionless for a minute with a little hand on her chubby cheek and the other trying to clutch onto the thick leather of his jacket, eyes darting around like she was seeing the world from a new perspective for the first time even though he was a hundred percent certain wade held her like his when they are the same height.

“kitty!”

“what?”

she pointed at the top of his head, his hair tuffs specifically, and reached out to pull on one of them curiously.

“no— not a kitty!” he’s never going to escape that fucking nickname, he wouldn’t be surprised if his roommate taught her to say that before she met him in person, able to perfectly envision wade crouching in front of her with a stupid picture of him on his phone and training her to say “kitty” every time she saw his photo by rewarding her with candy or something since there is no way she associated someone who looks like him to a kitten so quickly unironically.

“no kitty?”

“no— logan, lo-gan.”

she tried to pronounce his name a few times before giving up after getting stuck in the second syllable, blowing a raspberry and going back to what she was doing earlier— finding the most fun in tugging on his cowlicks like she was trying to figure out if he naturally woke up like that with the inability to brush them down or styled them with gel every day.

he sat down on the couch, the cushion sinking under his heavyweight, and sat your daughter down on his lap instead, except she didn’t want to sit down. standing on his lap and pressing her little feet into his thighs, she began to climb onto his shoulder like he was a jungle gym, using his arms as stepping stones to reach her destination while he bent over at the waist to allow her to crawl onto his back without falling behind him.

“you’re like a little lemur,” he muttered, still in slight shock that this kid seemed to like him and wasn’t freaking out like he was the big bad wolf. he wouldn’t admit it, but it was a really nice feeling that gave him a sense of normalcy like he was just some guy rather than the killing machine mutant most knew him as. she wouldn’t stop giggling and holding onto him, which made him feel his ice-cold heart melting like snow by spring’s first touch. 

all the while, he could hear you and wade chatting away in the background: something about him needing to step away from the stove, how you needed to trust him because him starting “that fire” was a one-time thing, what was for dessert, and then taking a sharp turn when the conversation suddenly shifted to the topic of the father.

he felt somewhat guilty about listening in, but he knew that deadpool was going to tell him eventually, so there wasn’t really any harm in a bit of eavesdropping (besides, it would have been difficult to ignore considering that your baby was being very well-behaved and his hearing wouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything else.)

“so… any news about her dad?” the solemn tone of a man who was hardly ever serious a day of his life was more terrifying than anything he’d ever witnessed in his long life.

“... he suddenly wants to be a family man, i guess…”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

the sound of a knife chopping vegetables against a wooden surface slowly came to a stop followed by a sigh. “like he wants to have a family… just not with the one he already started… he’s busy planning his wedding with the girl he cheated on me with and told me not to contact him again for any reason.”

“oh my god, what an asshole! fuck that guy!”

“i can’t believe that was the guy i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life with, could you imagine? i don’t even know what i could have done wrong for him to be like this— i asked him so many times and he just said that he’s ‘fallen out of love,’ has ‘moved on,’ and that i would ‘be cruel’ to ask him to stay even if it was for the sake of our child…”

“well if it’s any comfort, he would have been on the next episode of forensic files the second i got a moment alone with him— i mean, the last time we saw him, he literally pushed his own daughter away when she tried to hug him! what kind of sociopath wouldn’t adore such a cutie patootie, especially his own flesh and blood?! ”

“it’s fine,” you hissed, gritting your teeth at the memory. “it’s not like he’s done anything to deserve getting to be called a father to an angel anyway, i’ll take care of her myself— wait… didn’t i also invite your new roommate? did he not come?”

“no, he’s in the living room, he’s been here this entire time,” he informed, taking a bite out of an apple like an asshole from a film.

“and you didn’t tell me?!!!” you quickly ran into the said area, finding logan and your daughter together on the couch. “hi! oh, i’m so sorry i didn’t come to greet you properly— and left my daughter for you to look after too— god, i’m just a terrible host!” you tilted your head, “what’s your name?”

he then realized he was staring which was rather impolite, mouth slightly agape too like a fish out of water which left a few seconds of awkward silence in between. “i-i’m logan,” he managed to sputter, “nice to meet you..”

wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his strange mannerisms before a wide, shit-eating grin split his face. 

“aww, baby, why are you bothering this poor old man— come to mommy, it’s dinnertime,” you clapped your hands and held them out fully expecting her to reach out and grab onto you as she usually does, but instead she looked up at you with big pleading eyes and held onto him even more tightly like a koala clinging to a branch. “oh, did you get attached already? you really are my daughter… logan, could you do me a favor and put her in her high chair while i plate everything?”

“yes, of course.”

you turned back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to follow with one holding your baby in his arms. all it took was one look to understand what he was thinking, logan didn’t need to be a telepath to know. 

“if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“good, keep it that way.”

love at first sight, wade has seen it plenty of times and understands it well, something so unpredictable and powerful, that it could bring the wolverine down on his knees. it’s even more potent when he trips over himself seeing you in your natural environment instead of all dressed up for a first date, slightly sweaty from the heat radiating off the stove, unkempt hair sticking to the sides of your face, no makeup or defenses up— just you as yourself to the core.

“alright, bub, let's get you seated…” it took a few tries to get her in because she refused to align her little legs into the holes of the plastic piece, but she eventually got into it just fine and he pulled up his own chair to watch you place a one of the most decadent plates of pasta with chunks of salmon he’s ever seen in front of him with a word of gratitude. 

“sorry it isn’t anything special, i completely forgot that i arranged this in the first place….”

“oh, no, it’s perfect—”

“you’re damn right ‘it’s perfect!’” wade interjected, “lemme tell you, wolvie, this simple plate of pasta is better than sex, i know damn well you’ve never tasted anything like it in all your two-hundred years!”

“well, now that you say it like that, he’s going to have high expectations and it will taste like ass compared to the actual best pasta dish he’s ever had.”

“he likes ass, don’t worry—”

the said man cleared his throat to steer the conversation back around, feeling the foreign sensation of embarrassment burning his face hit him at full force. “it’s delicious, thank you, truly the best i’ve ever tasted.”

“aw, you don’t have to say that.”

“no, he’s right, i think you really outdid yourself this time!”

the dinner was carried by cheerful conversations and fun stories, and despite just meeting you today, logan almost felt like he knew you for years and this was something a commonplace tradition between loved ones which was something he’s been yearning for for as long as he can remember. as he watches you laugh and feed your adorable baby, he can’t help but wonder about the idiotic man who was willing to throw away something so wonderful— something which would complete his life and fill the void in his heart.

“well, you two can hang around while i clean her up and put her to bed. there’s some wine and beer in—” you watched as deadpool had already opened your fridge and was digging around like a raccoon in trash before fishing out two bottles of beers and closing the door with his hips. “alrighty then, i’ll join you two in a bit.”

he watched as you disappeared into the hallway before diving headfirst into the couch next to the wolverine and handing him his beer, kicking his feet and smiling as if he was a middle-schooler at an all girls’ sleepover. “okay, so she has a solid job as an accountant, has her own place and car, is funny and pretty, but most importantly for you, single. she doesn’t like flowers as gifts, but if you gift her groceries or cleaning supplies—”

“she wouldn’t want an asshole like me,” he grunted, taking a sip from the bottle. “not when she just got free from another one.”

“peanut, i met the other guy, you’re infinitely better than him! as much as i would like to keep you to myself, i have already planned out my speech at your wedding as your best man, so just keep in mind that i’m your wingman, okay? don’t lie to me either, i know you have a little crush, and i think she does too—”

“no, she doesn’t.”

“quit cutting me off, you motherfucker!”

it was easier to try and suppress the sprouting seed of infatuation before it bloomed out of control. he didn’t want to hurt you or himself by chasing something that shouldn’t be in the first place. you deserve better, you and your daughter. you both should have someone who was younger and had the energy to be a good father and husband, not some old mutant who was freeloading off of his roommate and terrified of losing more people he cared about. if you knew about the blood on his hands and the claws embedded in them, you would probably be worried that you allowed him to hold your baby and shun him permanently. 

and yet he was already attached, sitting here imagining domestic life where he could see her grow up through the phases of life and help her navigate its complexities while also waking up next to you in his arms and seeing your beautiful smile everyday. 

maybe he won’t let that glimmer of hope die out and just hold onto it for a little while longer, allowing it to leave a little lingering smile on his weary face.

[chariaki]

Marriage?

Kento x reader

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

"Darling, why does this alien keep following me?"

"Huh? Ohh!!...Kento, sweetheart... that's called a creeper. It's following you 'cause it wants to explode near you and kill you."

You recently taught you're boyfriend, Kento Nanami, how to play minecraft...and surprisingly, he's doing wonderful. In a span of 3 days, he created a garden, a pool and a bakery in creative mode. And yesterday, he's tried survival mode for the first time.

"Well, that's not very polite. I even shared my meat with him..."

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Pfff-"

"Did I say something funny, love?"

It's day 2 of your sweet boyfriend trying to maneuver his way in survival mode. He's doing terrific, hasn't died yet! He managed to build up on his food and inventory. And you told him countless times to build atleast a tiny house in order to protect him at night, but he keeps saying that he'll do it later because he has to prepare a looootttt.

"Kento, baby... creepers aren't interested in meat or making friends. They're simply there to explode and kill those around them"

"Oh. Well, then I guess I should run away from him."

"Yup, you definitely should."

He wouldn't even let you peak at his device! He'd be playing in the corner, like a weird teenager.

"How ya holding up? Can I please see what you're doing, baby?" You emphasize the word "please", hoping that Nanami would give in. But, he wouldn't even look at your puppy eyes!!

"No, sweetheart. I told you I'll show you when I'm done."

"Tsk. What are you even planning?" You pout, bouncing your legs on his lap, foot poking at his side.

He grabs your foot and places it on his lap again. He's playing minecraft on one hand, while the other massages your feet! What a man, indeed.

"It's a secret" He says in a singong tone, leaning over to grab the remote on the coffee table and peck your lips.

"Here, baby. Why don't you distract your pretty eyes with some television entertainment, and I'll get back to you with my finished work. Sound good, hmm? "

"okay... "

How were supposed to counter that when he kissed you so lovingly and whispered to you so softly?

A few hours had gone by. A variety show piqued your interest , however, you were more enamoured by the way you're boyfriend was so focused on his device. You could see the determination in his eyes.

He would also ask you random questions like "would you prefer wooden or tiled floors?" or "what colors would you like to see in a place?" And you would always answer quickly because you've been anticipating him, and the way he would hum in thought, then kiss you as a "thank you. "

You guessed he was finally building a himself a house.

But you were wrong.

He was building you and him a home.

He proudly and nervously handed you his phone, telling you to explore his carefully crafted house.

"I'm finished, love. Take a look at our house. I built it for us. This and so much more will be our life when we get married."

You were quite impressed, considering he built it in survival mode and for his first time doing so.

"Our house? Married? Marriage?"

It's an understatement to say that you were "flustered". You were red, stuttery, fidgety and baffled.

You did not expect him to bring that up. You've only been dating for a year. But don't get it wrong, you truly love Nanami, it's just that you didn't expect him to feel so strongly towards you to already consider marriage after only a year of dating!?

He chuckled. His deep, beautiful voice that reverberated through your heart.

"Yes, yn. Marriage. I-I'm not proposing to you right now! I'm just reminding you how much I love you, and that I'm more than ready to spend my lifetime with you."

He holds caresses your hands, eyes maintaining gentle, loving contact.

"I love you, Kento. Thank you, darling."

He leans in closer to kiss you. But you interrupt him midway. You whisper.

"Soooo, when are you going to propose?"

"Soon. In a beautiful place I know you'll like, with delicious food, a calming ambience, and just the two of there to experience it. "

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Kento Nanami, you're boyfriend of one year, builds you a house in minecraft to profess his love for you and confess that he's ready to upgrade to husband mode.

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[bc-jpeg]

about the mumbo’s “I’m all the friend that you need”.

I remembered something from the start of hc s10.

mumbo: — tell me, why are you here? are you gonna k- are you working on behalf of someone? are you gonna kill me? is that-

iskall: — no! you said this yesterday as well- mumbo! you are like my best friend! and I don’t have many friends. and I would not kill my one friend that I have!

mumbo: — say that to grian! cause grian came over yesterday, he’s not even the red name and he tried to kill me.

iskall: — but he’s got lots of friends!

oh something happened. something happened there this season. something spiralling into mumbo’s brain there from the start.

mumbo rarely interacted even with his minimum of friends in the early seasons, preferring solitude and redstone. and grian completely changed that. he appeared at mumbo’s bases at any given time without a warning, gradually leaving more and more pleasant words about what mumbo creates and that he is generally missed when he disappears. mumbo has never encountered anything like this,

but you get used to good things quickly, right?

and then he disappears for so long that upon his return grian realizing that it was hard to live with a focus on only one particular person who was not around all the time. and naturally decides to devote more time to other people in order to drown out this sadness for the person. maybe he was too intrusive for mumbo? now he's going to awkwardly avoid him because he thinks that mumbo doesn't really need him that much because he leaves him so often?

meanwhile, mumbo thinks that he is letting grian down, or has already let him down completely, since grian decides to be with his other friends more than with him.

and mumbo does not yet know that the doc’s perimeter war in s9 began simply because doc dared to tell grian that he would never be mumbo's best friend. because grian keeps it close to his heart and hasn't told anyone. especially mumbo. the buttercups started because of «there can only be ONE (best friend) …and it is not YOU!”