#you will be hearing from me about how i did it
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rating different responses to telling someone i’m polyamorous / dating multiple people
“oh… but how does that work?” a little annoying but usually comes from a place of genuine confusion or curiosity. 6/10
“but isnt that cheating?” no. 2/10
“so who’s your favourite partner?” believe it or not i dont have one, and even if i did have a fave it’d be shitty to say it out loud. 3/10
“oh sweet me too” FUCK YEAH 10/10
“can i join” well i barely know you so no. ranges from 2/10 to 4/10 depending on who’s asking
“woah so you’re like, an ot3 in real life” fuck your fandom shit. touch grass. 1/10
“i could never do polyamory” you’d think this is a perfectly fine thing to hear until you get it from EVERY FUCKING PERSON. 3/10
“thats cool” hell yeah it is. 9/10
“you'll get married and find the one eventually” fuck you ive already found the several and amatonormativity can go give birth to a cactus out of its asshole. 0/10
“so how do you guys break up” and we’re back with another well meaning question. if you are familiar with among us then that’s your answer. 5/10
“like sister wives” absolutely not. wildly different. 1/10
“rent must be way easier” monogamy? in this economy? yeah you have a point. 7/10
“huh i never thought of that, maybe i should become poly/open up my relationship” go nuts!! but be cautious as it could fuck up any present monogamous relationship you have, make sure to communicate clearly & respect boundaries. 6/10
“damn you must have so many threesomes/orgies” i mean yeah but also thats not how you start a conversation. 3/10
“oh that must be nice, having so many people who love you and you care about” awww thank you. it really, really is. 10/10
“like mormons” die. -10000/10
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roastedoatmilk · 16 hours ago
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Arcane Women Strap Hcs
characters: sevika, vi, caitlyn, mel, ambessa
A/N barely proofread sorry, also my first time writing for arcane please be kind 🙈 i hope y’all enjoy lmk your thoughts :)
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Sevika
first things first she has a dark purple strap i’m talking almost the same color that shimmer is and boy does she know how to use it
whenever she pulls the strap out be prepared to not be able to walk the next day
she prefers to fuck you in missionary but if she had to choose a different position it would be fucking you from the bottom, she just loves to be able to see your face while she pleasures you
her strap game is DIABOLICAL, she always makes sure to hit that spot inside you that makes you let out a squeal and causes your toes to curl
honestly she could just cum from fucking you alone but if you feel up to it once she’s done with you she loves when you eat her out after
“that’s it baby, you’re taking me so well just a little more”
Vi
vi screams black strap to me like it just makes sense
she prefers to fuck you slow and DEEP, i’m talking girly lifts your hips off the bed and grips them so hard that you can feel bruises form
shes so cocky about it too like she knows she’s good
vi’s another one that could cum from pleasuring you alone and 9/10 times she does, however the one time she doesn’t she will literally sit on your face once you’re well enough to take care of her
“that feel good pretty girl ? yeah i know it does, you’re always so good for me”
Caitlyn
dark blue strap sorry yall i don’t make the rules
caitlyn loves when you’re on top and she’s fucking you from below
she revels in the sight of you falling apart above her while she’s gripping your hips guiding you
she’s 100% a brat tamer and you can’t tell me any different
“oh darling is it too much ? you shouldn’t have behaved like that if you didn’t want me to fuck you like this”
Mel
HEAR YE HEAR YE she has a gold strap idc idc
mel also likes it when you’re on top however she prefers to gently guide your movements while she praises you
don’t let that mislead you tho shes a HUGE tease
she can and will make you edge yourself until you’re literally crying begging her to let you cum
“ my love you look so beautiful when you ask nicely like that, go ahead and take what you need”
Ambessa
ruby red strap that’s all imma say
the cruelest of the bunch, she’s not afraid to leave you dry while she takes what she needs
another brat tamer yall you love to see it
she doesn’t make love she FUCKS, be prepared to constantly be buying new headboards
she makes you suck on her strap NEXTTTTT
“sweet girl did you think i’m finished with you ? no no we aren’t done until you can’t remember anything but my name”
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 days ago
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Self-Aware Sylus x Down-bad!Player
Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]
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Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.
Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.
Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.
Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”
Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”
Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”
Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”
Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”
Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..
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littlelamy · 1 day ago
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you were right!
a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs
The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.
“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.
He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.
Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”
Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”
The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.
“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.
He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.
Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.
The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”
Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.
He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”
There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.
“What happened?”
Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”
You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.
“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”
Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”
A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”
He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”
You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”
A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”
You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif
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parfaitblogs · 3 days ago
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making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader
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in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu
Alcohol is a depressant. 
You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 
You knew that. 
You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 
The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 
Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.
Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 
Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 
You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 
"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 
"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"
An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."
He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yes. Please?"
"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"
"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."
"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"
"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 
"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."
"Mm."
Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I love you."
"Love you too."
No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 
True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 
"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 
"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.
The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 
The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 
It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.
You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 
You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 
He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 
"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.
"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"
He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"
"That'll just distract me."
"Is that what you want?"
You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 
"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."
His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 
"Sorry," you mumble.
"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"
"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."
"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.
"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 
"Yeah, probably. That's fine."
You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.
"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."
He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.
He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 
"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."
"You already talk a lot."
His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."
"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."
"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 
"My friends will think I'm boring, then."
He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"
"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"
"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"
Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 
Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."
You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 
"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 
"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."
"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 
"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."
"I don't think they will either."
He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 
"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.
"You've caught me."
He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 
"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 
He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."
"I know."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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mrsbarnesblog · 3 days ago
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cost of betrayal
masterlist
summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first
word count: 1.7k.
warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues
a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏
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“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 
Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 
You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 
“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 
“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 
“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 
He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.
Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 
“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 
“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 
“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 
“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”
“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”
“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”
You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 
“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 
“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 
He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.
“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 
"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 
“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 
“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 
It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 
Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 
While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 
“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 
“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 
Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 
“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 
“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 
552 notes · View notes
nhlclover · 1 day ago
Text
ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES
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pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.
warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke
word count: 11.6k
notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.
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The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.
“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”
At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.
“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.
Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”
“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”
You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?
The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.
When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.
Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.
Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.
Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.
You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”
Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.
“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.
“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.
“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”
The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.
“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”
Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.
“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.
As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.
Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.
“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.
Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.
You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.
The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.
With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.
But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.
You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.
One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.
Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.
A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”
Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”
His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”
Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”
Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.
But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”
It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.
“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.
An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.
You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”
Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.
In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.
But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.
You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.
You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.
The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.
The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.
Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”
He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.
Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”
You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.
Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.
Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.
Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”
Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.
Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.
You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.
Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.
Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.
Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.
Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.
────୨ৎ────
The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.
You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He���d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.
Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.
As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.
Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.
You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.
The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.
Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.
“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”
Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.
You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.
And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.
“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.
You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.
You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.
It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.
But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.
As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.
But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.
“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.
You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”
But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.
The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.
Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.
"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.
And then it was just the two of you.
The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.
“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.
“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”
You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”
The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.
“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”
His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.
You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”
Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”
You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”
The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.
“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.
Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.
The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.
Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.
The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.
Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”
You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”
Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.
“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”
You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.
“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.
“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”
You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.
“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.
He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.
“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.
You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.
“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”
The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.
Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”
A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.
“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.
You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”
He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”
You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”
Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.
You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”
Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”
You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.
For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.
“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”
You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”
Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”
He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”
You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”
Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.
“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.
In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.
Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.
You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.
That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.
With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.
You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.
The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.
Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.
Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.
“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”
Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.
“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”
Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”
Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.
Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.
Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”
Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”
Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.
“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”
“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”
The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.
Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."
Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?
A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”
Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”
Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.
Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.
“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”
Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.
“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”
Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.
You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.
“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.
You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”
Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.
“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”
You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”
Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”
Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”
Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.
Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.
But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”
Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”
“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.
Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”
His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”
You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.
His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.
His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.
When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.
You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.
But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.
You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”
Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”
Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.
“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”
Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”
You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.
With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.
This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.
457 notes · View notes
tommydarlings · 3 days ago
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sweet little devil | m.v
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pairing: dark!max verstappen ; dom!daniel ricciardo ; dom!carlos sainz ; dom!charles leclerc ; sub!lando norris x sub!bimbo!reader
warnings: manipulation, possessive behaviour, cheating, smut, fivesome, chocking, dacryphilia, gagging, cum on face, marking somebody up (hickeys), double penetration, voyeurism kink, exhibitionism kink, face fucking, spitting, overstimulation, pussy eating, mention of boners
w/c: 5.7k
summary: Usually max is very possessive and doesn’t share you with anybody…but he’s willing to change that and let some of the other drivers experiment with you a bit — but only right in front of his eyes.
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You were mainly known around the paddock for being max verstappen's girlfriend but you were also known for being very friendly and helpful to others, including the other drivers.
Something you didn’t pay much attention to, but max certainly did. And it made his blood boil more than anything else.
You were casually talking to Lando and Carlos, asking them some things about the upcoming races and their plans for each country while max, your dear boyfriend, watched the three of you from the redbull garage.
He watched how you adjusted the dark blue redbull cap with the big number '1' on your head, smirking proudly to himself before he noticed his Carlos took a step closer to your figure…
It was probably just to hear you better since there were lots of chaos and noises doing around at the moment, but to max it didn’t look like that, not at all.
The young redbull driver clenched his fist, his eyes focused on the few centimetres that separated you from Carlos, Lando also mindlessly scanning your figure in your gorgeous, new white dress that max gifted you.
Suddenly, you got a text message — suprisingly from your own boyfriend who just stood a few feet away from you,
'Why don’t you step a few steps backwards so you’re not too close to the boys, hmm? You seem a bit too close to them in my opinion, angel.'
You gulped before you quickly put your phone in your bag again and took a couple of steps backwards, kindly smiling at the two drivers as they continued talking to you.
Max chuckled quietly to himself, also putting his phone away again.
———
“Oh my god, I should have really brought a jacket!“ you laughed, covering yourself with your cold arms, sadly only wearing a dark blue, rather short dress.
Alex, Charles girlfriend, looked at you with with a typical drunk but gorgeous smile until she looked at the red Ferrari stopping right in front of you two,
“Baby! Charlie, baby! Finally you’re here!“ she ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck while Charles kissed her neck and cheek a couple of times before he looked at you,
“Gosh y/n, you’re shivering,“ he walked over to you, his arm around Alex's waist, “here… take my jacket, I’m pretty sure that max should be here any minute, Alex and I can wait for those couple of minutes, alright?“
You smiled kindly at Charles as he handed you his black jacket, “thank you so much, Charles.”
The Ferrari driver only nodded with a tiny grin as you put the jacket on your body, talking to you and his girlfriend a bit before your boyfriend finally arrived, parking right in front of Charles's Ferrari.
Max stepped out of the car, lightly slamming his door shut as he looked at you and the unfamiliar piece of clothing you wore all of a sudden,
“What are you wearing there? Who’s jacket is that? That’s not m-”
“Relax, max,“ Charles laughed at max possessive behaviour but max didn’t even crack a smile, quickly walking over to you and ripping the jacket off of your body, handing it without any readable facial expression to his friend before he swiftly removed his own black jacket, draping it quickly over your shoulders.
“You’re still cold, aren’t you? You’re all shaky, baby,“ max mumbled to you, ignoring the slightly suspicious gazes that Alex and Charles threw at him.
Charles cleared his throat, “uhm, just so you know… I offered her the jacket, she did not like notice it and immediately put it on, you know?“
Max looked with narrowed eyes at Charles before he looked back at you, “and you accepted his jacket? Why? I am your boyfriend, couldn’t you have just waited a few more minutes for me to arrive?“ he chuckled almost nervously.
You gulped before you shot a tiny smile into Charles and Alex's direction before your boyfriend put his hand onto your lower back, guiding you quickly to his car with a stern gaze.
“Get in. now,“ he ordered quietly as he opened the passenger door for you, his tone taking you by surprise.
You hoped into the car, quickly putting your seatbelt on while max already started the car, “wearing another man's jacket while I’m on the way to pick her up, having my own jacket perfectly ready for her,“ he mumbled to himself, shaking his head.
— — —
Max was fed up.
The last couple of days, you’ve been acting all nice and sweet towards the other drivers, joking around with Carlos and Lando, eating your breakfast at the hotel with Charles and just simply messing around with Daniel.
And max was not happy about it. And now he has reached his breaking point.
“Baby? Can you come here for a second?“ max asked you as you just got ready to go out for dinner with him and a couple of other drivers plus their girlfriend’s.
You looked at him, turning your eyes away from the mirror in the bathroom, “why?“
He adjusted his position on the bed, looking down at his phone before he put it on the bedside table, “just… C’mere, okay?“ he replied in a bit of a snarky tone.
With slowly and almost careful steps, you walked towards him, leaving the bathroom and entering the bedroom.
“Yes, maxie?“ you mumbled, adjusting your little red dress on your body.
“I have something prepared for you tonight, a little surprise,“ he smiled up at, making you frown, “A suprise? What surprise, baby?“
Max ran his hands through his hair, glancing at his phone before he looked back up at you, “yes, my love… a little surprise for my favourite, pretty girl,“ he caressed your hip with his hand, still occasionally glancing at his phone.
But before you could take a look at his phone as well, your boyfriend spoke up again,
“You can come in,“ max called out in a rather loud tone, making you furrow your brows.
And only seconds later, Daniel, Carlos, Charles and Lando entered the room, looking calm but also… excited?
You turned around, looking with a confused facial expression at the four other drivers, briefly shooting them a kind smile before you looked back at max who now stood up, standing in his full height in front of you.
“Max, why are they here? I thought we're going to the restaurant with them now,“ you asked your boyfriend in a hush tone, making him chuckle.
You laid your eyes back on the other drivers, catching them red handed how they were just checking you out.
“Why is nobody saying anything? Are we gonna walk to the restaurant together?“ you smiled at them, adjusting your dress, glancing back up at max.
But he only shook his head, squeezing your hips with his big hands, “I sadly had to cancel out reservation, sweetheart,“ he sighed, Daniel, Carlos, Charles and Lando slowly stepping closer to you from behind.
You furrowed your brows, looking a bit sad about the fact that you won’t be going to dinner with the others tonight,
“What? Why? Did something more important come up?“ you batted your eyelashes innocently up at your man.
The redbull driver slowly nodded, still smiling softly at you, “yes, baby… something way more important,“ he whispered before glancing with way darker eyes at his rivals, almost as if he tried to tell them something with his gaze.
Suddenly, daniel started putting his hands onto the straps of your dress from behind, Carlos, Lando and Charles watching how their rival put his hands onto the girlfriend of their friend,
You glanced at Daniel with wide eyes but you couldn’t get a single word out, quickly looking back up at your boyfriend with furrowed brows,
“M-Max?“ you mumbled before you felt Daniel slowly sliding the straps of your dress down, exposing more and more of your skin.
But max only had his eyes on Daniel before he glanced at the three other drivers, nodding at them before they also put their big palms on you.
Carlos completely removing your dress while lando already lightly kissed your neck and shoulder, Charles stepping in front of you next to max, his fingers gliding down your chest towards your panties, playing lazily with the waistband of them.
“Take them off of her,“ max mumbled to Charles, Daniel and Lando each kissing your neck and shoulders while Carlos started to open his pants, Charles removing your panties, quickly stuffing them into the back pocket of his pants.
You looked at each driver with wide and slightly teary eyes, not knowing what to do or say.
Carlos and Charles both stepped in front of you after max took a couple step backwards, barely even looking at you as the two Ferrari drivers freed their big erections, slowly palming themselves, their dark eyes fixated on your naked figure.
Charles cleared his throat, “Go on your knees for us, c‘mon,“ he sounded so demanding, taking you by surprise.
You briefly gulped and also looked at Carlos who looked like he was ready to jump on you any second, scaring you a bit before you quickly got down onto your knees.
You looked over to max, “max… wh-”
“Shhh, baby… no need to talk right now, just open your mouth and let us use it for a bit, okay? You don’t need to worry about your boyfriend now, yeah?“ Daniel whispered from behind before lando bend down behind you and removed the hair tie that you always have around your wrist.
You looked up at the McLaren driver with a confused facial expression before you looked back up and Charles and Carlos who looked like they got quite impatient by now.
And then you slowly dared to open your mouth, expecting to either be filled up by Charles or Carlos but no… both of them suddenly stuffed your tiny mouth with their big cocks, forcing you to gag.
“Shh, it’s okay, darling…“ Charles comforted you while Carlos only squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, groaning deeply as he just shoved himself further down your throat.
You looked up at both of them with teary eyes while lando gathered your hair in his hands from behind and put them into a ponytail.
You whined and occasionally glanced at max who seemed unbothered by all of this, Charles and Carlos now switching between stuffing each of their thick dicks into your mouth, right after Carlos shoved his length down your throat, Charles grabbed your head and forced you to take his entire length, making you squeeze your eyes shut and whine loudly.
“She can’t take that much yet… I’m still training her,“ max mumbled to the other drivers as he watched all of you closely.
Daniel scoffed behind you as he got onto his knees, putting his hand around your throat and squeezing it, lightly chocking you, “seriously? You’ve been dating her for over 4 months now and she still can’t take your entire cock down her throat?“ he shook his head.
You gasped around Charles's cock as lando suddenly spat on his fingertips and slowly started to rub your pearly clit from behind, his lip still grazing your neck and shoulder as he left wet open-mouthed kisses there.
Max shot a glare at Daniel, “you shut up Mr. Honeybadger, I can do with my girl whatever I please and I bet that after tonight, she’ll be able to take way more than before so stop complaining,“ he replied in a snarky tone.
You continued gagging around Charles cock before he pulled himself out of your mouth and let his teammate, Carlos, roughly grab the back of your head and force you to take him entirely, making you loudly gag and cry out, the first tears streaming down your hallowed cheeks.
Lando briefly looked with a worried gaze at max, “don’t worry mate, she’s basically always crying, that’s normal,“ your boyfriend told his friend while the McLaren driver continued to rub your wet clit, forcing satisfied moans out of your stuffed mouth.
You really struggled with your breathing since Daniel was still mercilessly chocking you, gripping your throat harder and harder by every second that went by.
“Oh f-fuck I’m gonna cum,“ Carlos threw his head back while Charles started jerking himself off, his lustful eyes staring down at your glistening mouth, Daniel was gently kissing your tears away by now, “just open your mouth and stick your tongue out baby, so they can both enjoy it,“ the Australien driver whispered into your ear from behind.
And moments later, you quickly opened your mouth and sticked your tongue out, feeling both of the Ferrari drivers decorating not only your tongue but basically your whole face with their release.
The view was for all of the boys like a sick dream come true, you on your knees with cum on your face that’s not even your boyfriends while another men, who also doesn't identifies as your boyfriend, is making you shake and jolt forward with his hand between your trembling legs.
“Fucking hell lando, just like that,“ max mumbled as he closely watched how lando's hand between your legs drove you into utter madness,
Max looked back at you, “Is lando gonna make you cum?“
Daniel briefly squeezed your throat, silently telling you to answer him as lando began to slowly and gently kiss your shoulder, leaving some marks there and then.
You gulped before you swiftly nodded, panting heavily as you squeezed your eyes shut, jolting more and more forward, “y-yes!“ you cried out.
The last thing you noticed as you looked up into max direction, was him slowly touching himself through his jeans while the two Ferrari drivers continued watching you with dark eyes, their big hands also wrapped around themselves.
“God she looks beautiful when she’s shaking and crying out like that,“ Charles mumbled deeply as he bend down and brushed some hair out of your sweaty and cum covered face.
You looked up at Charles with wide and teary eyes as you tried your best to calm down, Carlos didn’t really care about you needing to calm down, he simply leaned forward and smeared his cum all over your lips and cheeks, decorating your face even more.
“Let her catch her b-” Lando looked up at Carlos but the Ferrari driver shook his head,
“She doesn’t need to catch her breath because we’re gonna continue anyway, aren’t we?“ he looked over to max who was still mindlessly pleasuring himself through his jeans.
Daniel lightly pulled on your hair to get more access to your neck and shoulders before he started kissing and sucking your neck, purposely creating some pretty visible marks.
Lando gulped as he watched Daniel decorate the left side of your neck, “are we allowed to mark her?“ Lando glanced at max.
Charles and Carlos both chuckled at lando‘s shy and quiet demeanor, both of their fingertips running along your dirty face.
“I told you that during those thirty minutes you can do anything you want with her… if you wanna mark her up, then mark her up,“ max shrugged carelessly.
After some more deep breaths and some more marks created by Lando and Daniel on your neck, Carlos grabbed your upper arm and swiftly pulled you up to stand on your wobbly legs while Charles laid on his back on the bed, getting comfortable.
“Get on top of him, baby,“ Carlos whispered as he guided you on top of his teammate since you were still a bit far gone.
You nodded and gulped nervously as you crawled tiredly on top of Charles while Carlos got onto his knees on the bed behind your still trembling figure.
Daniel and Lando both stood up and watched how Charles and Carlos both lined themselves up with your holes.
Then, max spoke up, “just for you information boys, if you really want to double penetrate her now, you have to hold her hand and 'shh' her or at least somehow comfort her or she won’t loosen up, alright? Seriously…“
The other drivers all nodded at max before Charles and Carlos both slowly entered you, making you gasp and almost scream in pleasure and pain.
“Oh fuck!“ you screamed while Charles ran his fingers softly along your arms,
“Shhh,“ Charles looked up at you with his typical puppy dog eyes, just a bit darker, “it’s okay, we’re all here for you, alright?“ he whispered.
You nodded along his words while you felt carlos squeezing your hips, his thumbs caressing the skin of your ass as he groaned deeply, his eyes trained on how you’re trying your best to take both of the drivers at the same time.
“She’s doing really well,“ Daniel mumbled as max watched all of you closely as well while lando’s eyes grew darker as he stood next to the bed and jerked himself off, moaning and whimpering occasionally.
Max cleared his throat, “Daniel.“
The Australien driver glanced at the Dutch one, his hand also jerking himself off, “yeah?“ he mumbled before he put his eyes right back onto the three of you on the bed, glaring shamelessly at your stretching holes.
Max sighed as he continued looking at you even thought he clearly acknowledged Daniel’s quiet answer, “Fuck her mouth.“
Daniel gulped while the Ferrari drivers continued stretching both of your holes out, Lando still busying himself by jerking himself off to the sinful show in front of him, whimpering and bucking his hips occasionally.
But after some time, Daniel walked over to you so he was standing right in front of your face, his big and veiny hands already grabbing your hair,
“Open your mouth baby, c'mon,“ he tapped your trembling bottom lip with his thumb and you immediately obeyed.
As soon as you opened your mouth for him, he fisted your hair and slowly filled your tiny mouth up, stuffing your throat with his cock while Charles and Carlos were still fucking you senseless but in a rather careful way, not wanting to completely ruin you… yet.
Obviously, you immediately gagged around Daniel’s cock, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t big because he was.
You glanced up at him with your tear and cum stained face, your salty tears dropping down onto his erection that’s stuffed in your mouth, making Daniel bite his lip, “god, just like that.“
Max chuckled at his friends reaction, Charles and Carlos also cracking a smile, “I know right? Her mouth is so warm and her throat‘s just so tight, am I right, baby?“ Charles asked you quietly with a smirk, his big hand caressing your messy cheek.
Daniel nodded with a deep chuckle as well, “fuck max, you weren’t lying when you told us that she can suck cock like an angel,“ Daniel licked his lips before he looked down at you with dark eyes.
Your boyfriend quickly unbuckled his belt and freed his big and leaking cock, immediately jerking himself off, his dark pupils switching between your wet holes and your poor mouth.
You tried your best to breath through your nose while you continued gagging there and then on Daniel’s cock, your teary eyes slowly falling shut as your cries got louder.
Charles leaned forward and slowly kissed and lightly bit your jaw before he went further down and started creating more hickeys next to the already existing ones from Daniel and Lando.
In the meanwhile, Carlos also leaned forward and placed featherlight kisses on your shoulder blades, there and then also creating some small hickeys, admiring them for a few seconds before he searched for another spot on your shoulders or back that he could decorate.
As soon as you opened your eyes again, you immediately stared up at Lando with your big teary doe eyes, your entire body jolting forward as the two Ferrari drivers groaned and panted heavily — and Lando reached his limit.
The Brit's whole shook with pure pleasure as he quickly crumbled onto the floor, his big and veiny hand shaking as he couldn’t stop jerking himself off, his whimpers and moans not stopping, not even when he already seemed to calm down from his probably most intense orgasm ever.
You grinned a bit around Daniel’s cock as you watched Lando crumble like that simply because of the look you gave him — Daniel briefly turned his head to glance at his exhausted friend on the floor, chuckling deeply while he continued gently but firmly fucking your tiny and warm mouth.
“See what you did to him, angel?“ Daniel raised his brows at you while the others chuckled as well, “that’s exactly what you’re doing to all of us, little one,“ he caressed your soft cheek before he suddenly put both of his strong arms around your head, unintentionally flexing his biceps in the process while he mercilessly forced you to choke and unstoppably gag on his cock.
You squeezed your eyes shut and whined in a high pitched tone as you fisted the bedsheets, your knuckles already turning white as you heard your boyfriend sigh loudly from the other end of the room,
“Told you to be a bit more careful, danny,“ max told him, his big hand still going up and down in his slick dick, his eyes staying right on your mouth though.
But Daniel didn’t even listen at that moment, he just focused on releasing his semen right onto your tongue and down your throat, his dark eyes squeezed shut while he took deep breaths to calm down again.
After he opened his eyes and glanced down at your messy and fucked out face, he grinned widely and caressed your cheek, his thumb running along your plumb bottom lip,
“Have you swallowed?“ Daniel asked with raised brows, obviously hoping for only one specific answer.
You gulped before you nodded, trying your best to look up into his eyes, the fact that both Ferrari drivers still fucked your already stretched out holes making that a bit more difficult.
Daniel nodded along, “all of it?“
You nodded again before he tapped your bottom lip, immediately making you open your mouth and show him your empty tongue.
“Good girl,“ he smiled before he bend down and kissed the top of your head, then your boyfriend who there and then released some growls and whimpers suddenly spoke up,
“I told you to be more careful with her when you guys are already forcing her to take so much at once,“ max said in a harsh tone as Daniel.
While Daniel glanced at him, you couldn’t even look at your boyfriend, your eyes squeezed shut and loud cries and moans leaving your mouth as you felt close to your orgasm.
Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes, “No, you told Charles and Carlos that they should comfort her when they double penetrate her, I just fucked her mouth,“ he shrugged.
Max glanced at your shaking figure, “One of you two rub her clit,“ he spoke to Carlos and Charles before he looked back up at Daniel who was already back to jerking himself off again while he clearly enjoyed watching the little show in front of him.
“That was directed towards all of you,“ max said in an almost strict tone to Daniel before your screaming stopped the little argument between your boyfriend and the man that just fucked your face.
Daniel bend down and continued caressing your jaw and cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut again and screamed at the things you were feeling as soon as Charles reached down to rub your pearly clit.
You took deep breaths, tears staining your hot face as your whole body shook — Daniel, Lando and max watching you closely while Charles and Carlos also panted heavily with their eyes closed.
“It’s okay,“ Daniel nodded before he pecked your forehead, his hands gently intertwining themselves with the roots of your messed up hair, “let it all out.“
Lando slowly sat up and nodded along Daniel’s words and as soon as Daniel noticed that Lando obviously wanted to be closer to you again, he scooted to the side and let him take a closer look at your jolting figures and clearly fucked out face.
Daniel bit his lip as he continued stroking your left cheek while Lando’s eyes were widely open, staring at you with an unbelievably amount of lust and desire, making max smirk as he watched the two boys being in a sort of trance by watching his girlfriend.
“You want something lando?“ max asked his friend with a grin.
Lando glanced over at max before he gulped almost nervously, looking back at you, “Uhm, no… I would just,“ he bit his lip as he glanced down at your pussy which he was sadly barrels able to see due to the position and the two men that currently had you on the brink of orgasming.
“You would just what?“ Daniel smirked at Lando, curious to hear his wish.
Lando cleared his throat, “I would just like to taste her,“ he gulped, glancing over at Daniel.
Max raised his brows and whistled loudly, even startling you a bit even though you were a shaking, crying and panting mess by now, feeling closer to the best orgasm you probably ever had.
As soon as lando looked at max, he spoke up in a loud and deep tone, “If you want lick her pussy, you turn towards me and ask me and not Daniel, okay? He had his turn already.“
Lando nodded wildly, “sorry,“ he mumbled before they all turned their heads to look at you again, biting their bottom lips as their palms creeped towards their big erections.
You glanced down at Charles, your sobs not getting quieter as Carlos's thrust got harsher while Charles caressed your shaking arm,
“Shh, it’s okay..“ he nodded while you were only able to hear Carlos groaning and cursing in either English or Spanish.
Daniel brushed some loose strands of hair out of your face as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your whole poor body shaking as your orgasm clearly took your whole body over,
“Oh god!“ you cried out as you released all over the two Ferrari drivers, Carlos squeezed your hips in a merciless way, most probably leaving two pretty handprints behind while continued rubbing your clit with his fingers, his other hand squeezing your upper arm as he squeezed his eyes shut and cursed as well.
“Merde bébé, tu te sens si bien avec nous!“ Shit, baby, you feel so good around us!
“Oh dios, ten piedad, eso fue tan jodidamente bueno.“ Oh god have mercy, that was so fucking good.
You didn’t even notice anymore how Charles and Carlos removed themselves from your stretched out holes, you only briefly noticed how Carlos sat you up positioned your limp body against him so your back was touching his chest, your glistening pussy on full display.
Max cleared his throat, “Good — now you can have your little taste Lando,“ your boyfriend mumbled with an approving nod, making lando's eyes widen before he nodded eagerly.
Charles got onto his knees next to Daniel as lando scooted in the middle so his face was right in front of your pussy.
Carlos and Charles spread your legs further before Lando slowly let his tongue glide over your cunt, making you jump and squeak.
“N-No!“ you shook your head as Carlos quickly caught your wrists and held them forcefully behind your back so you couldn’t move, “Please n-no, I can’t anymore!“ you whined loudly.
Max smiled and shook his head, knowing that as long as you don’t say the safe word, you are perfectly able to take more…
Daniel jerked himself off while he kept a close eye on your teary and messy face.
Carlos watched Lando eat your cunt over your shoulder while Charles tried his best to also jerk himself off, his other hand spreading your leg widely apart for Lando.
“Mhmm, how does it taste?“ Daniel asked with a grin as he watched Lando who immediately hummed into your pussy and smiled.
The British driver sucked for a few more seconds on your clit and lapped your juice up at your entrance before he removed his face from your pussy and looked over at Daniel, his lips and chin all wet,
“Really good, like… so delicious,“ he mumbled as he licked lips with a wide and happy smile.
Daniel chuckled before he scooted closer,
“scoot over a bit,“ he said to Lando before he leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it run down to your hole before he shoved his spit into your already wet entrance with his tongue, exploring your hole with his long and obviously skilled tongue.
You jumped and swiftly grabbed Carlos’s arm, squeezing his biceps, “ah, please! s-stop..“ you whined pathetically in a high pitched tone but Daniel didn’t even react to it, he simply continued eating you out, lapping your juice up like it’s the best thing he ever tasted.
Daniel groaned, “fucking best thing I’ve ever tasted,“ he said in a deep tone before he ran his fingertips along your drenched slit.
Suddenly, max stood up with a stern gaze,
“Alright boys, your times up,“ he mumbled deeply, making the other drivers sigh and stand up to put their clothes back on.
Right when Charles reached for the door to open it and leave your hotel room with the other boys, max spoke up again, “Where are you going?“
Lando cleared his throat, “You said that we get thirty minutes with her and then we’re done.“
Max nodded slowly with a grin, “Yes, but I never said that you’ll leave afterwards, you guys are gonna stay here and watch me fuck her,“ your boyfriend said in a firm tone while he already grabbed your weak legs and carelessly laid you down onto the messy bed, spreading your legs for him.
Carlos and Charles bit their lips, watching your pussy closely, their hands already creeping down to their crotch’s again.
Lando and daniel gulped and also watched with dark eyes as max spit into his hand and smeared it all over his hard cock before he quickly entered you.
You moaned loudly and arched your back, quickly glancing over at the four other drivers with wide and teary eyes, making them all either gulp or gasp.
“Shit, already been fucked by two different men and still so tight,“ he groaned as he fully entered you, his palms squeezing your thighs, clearly leaving handprints just like Carlos did on your hips.
You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, tears running down your heated cheeks, “god! Max please!“ you screamed, fisting the sheets next to your hips, “I can’t-”
“Oh yes you can, angel,“ max replied before he leaned forward, his palms next to your head as he roughly fucked your already overused hole, making you cry more.
You gulped, tasting your salty tears, “I c-can’t! I think-”
Max looked at you, “yes you can,“ he nodded before he glanced over at the other boys who messily palmed themselves through their pants again.
Carlos was groaning as he watched your trembling figure with dark eyes, Charles was harshly biting his bottom lip while he had his eyes on your glistening cunt.
Daniel was also groaning there and then as he observed how your brows were furrowed, how your whines and cries got more high pitched and how tight you were fisting the sheets.
But Lando seemed almost shy as he palmed himself through his pants, eyes wide and switching between your pussy and your messed up face, there and then also glancing at your bouncing tits.
“You guys see how good I’m fucking her?“ max said with a firm tone at the other drivers with a confident smirk.
The other boys only looked jealous, jealous and unbelievably horny as they watched you being fucked once again while max gave them a little speech about how you’re his.
“I know you all just really enjoyed taking turns on my girlfriend but at the end of the day it’s my girlfriend, understand?“ the Dutch driver raised his brows at the other men in the room who couldn’t keep their eyes off of your sinful figure.
They all slowly nodded, Charles still tightly gripping the door handle — on the one hand he just wanted to leave so he wouldn’t needed to get tortured by only watching you anymore but on the other hand he wanted to stay in this room forever.
“Turn your head, baby,“ max told you in a quiet but firm tone before he grabbed your chin and turned your head himself, forcing you to look at the other drivers with teary and fucked out eyes, “just like that, look at them-”
“C-Can I cum?“ you asked them as you felt your orgasm creeping up again but max only growled and turned your face back towards him.
His thrust got slower but harsher, hitting your sweet spot every single time, “You want permission to come? You ask me, you understand?“
You gulped before you nodded and whined loudly, “May I come?“ you screamed.
Max nodded as he continued fucking you at a steady pace, “you may come, baby,“ he leaned down and kissed your forehead as you screamed and cried, releasing your juice all over him, making the bedsheets even wetter than before.
Your boyfriend took deep breaths before he waved his hand carelessly into the direction of the door, “only I can make her come like that, and now get out.“
Charles was the first one to nod and stop palming his erection through his pants before he swiftly opened the door and left, Carlos, Daniel and Lando quickly following him, walking through the halls towards their hotel room with they hands over their private areas, trying their best to cover their immense boners.
After the boys left, max rolled over on the bed so he was laying on his back, carefully pulling you on top of him.
“I am so proud of you, so so so proud of you, baby,“ he stroked your head before he kissed it with a tiny smile, making you smile a tiny bit as well.
You gulped and nodded, your limbs still a bit shaky as max spoke up again, “And I told you that I’ll fuck you in front of the other drivers if you continue flirting with them like that.“
“I wasn’t flirting,-”
“What was that?“ he raised his brows, quickly shutting you up.
“Nothing, maxie baby,“ you grinned before you pecked his jaw and max only chuckled,
“Nothing she says,“ he mumbled in a deep tone, making you gulp in nervousness while he continued caressing you in a gentle manner.
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c0ffeejelly1 · 2 days ago
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No Nut November
Multiple character headcannons
Authors note: this is the only November post y’all r getting so hahahahahhaahah. I rushed this just today so say thank you. Bye bye. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)
Warning: kinda suggestive but like y’all don’t do anything.
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“You know what time of month it is, right baby?”
You asked your boyfriend, all while adjusting your makeup in mirror a cheeky smile on your face taking a quick glance at him sitting down on your bed watching you intensely.
“…it’s not our anniversary, is it?” He asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“What? No, I’m talking about it being November…y’know? No Nut November?”
He visibly shifts in his seat. He knew what you were going to ask him.
“you think you can last the month? Im willing to bet on it.”
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The type to not even last a day
“Man that’s light work! I could easily last a month if I wanted to—"
He failed.
“Okay but it’s not my fault. Y-you decided to wear that out, not me!”
“You say it like I purposely did it to make you lose..”
“Because you did!”
He’s not accepting the fact that he lost on the day you challenged him.
Do you know how embarrassing that is?
Imagine how badly he’s gonna get teased by all his mates if they ever find out he couldn’t help but bust one on you!
“You better keep this between just us..”
Should he really be saying that when he’s the one who started tearing off your clothes and tossing them aside?
Should he really be saying that when he’s the one who pleaded for just a few minutes to enjoy you?
Should he really be saying that when—
“Why’re you looking at me like that!”
You were looking at him like he was an idiot. You really couldn’t believe what he was saying.
Was it really that bad he didn’t last that long?
I mean it’s sort of flattering to you, seeing that your boyfriend could get so turned on from just you wearing a nice outfit.
“Because you just sound stupid why can’t you admit you lost and call it a day?” You huff.
“Because it doesn’t count!”
He pouts, crossing his arms in annoyance, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he turns away from you on the bed where you both lay bare, slick with each other’s essences from your prior…activities.
“And it’s stupid. This whole no nut November nonsense is stupid! I mean who would even come up with that kind of torture? why would someone want to restrict themselves from such a bliss that-"
You spend the rest of that evening listening to the poor guy complaining about how November is a stupid month.
Characters: REIGEN, Tenegn, Eren, Reiner, Hinata, Oikawa, BOKUTO, MAMMON, Leviathan, ASMODEUS, ITTO, kaeya, RAFAYEL (any character you like)
The type to last a week
“You sure you wanna bet on that? Y’know before we started dating I wasn’t the kind of guy who needed Intimacy in their life…"
He totally regrets saying those things because now they’re just gnawing at him.
This is all your fault, you hear him?
You- you did something to him okay?
Never in his life has he felt so…so…
Vulnerable?
Jesus, this was suppose to be a walk in the park so why do you suddenly look so...sexy?
You were just watching TV, but the way you curled up on the couch made your thighs press together in a way that was hard to ignore.
And that shirt of yours?
It was barely hanging on your shoulder, giving him a peek at your bra strap, while your hand rested on your stomach, revealing just enough skin.
Damn, even the way you bit your lips without realizing it was driving him wild—he couldn’t handle a whole month of this!
He was so caught up in you that he didn’t even notice how his body was inching closer.
It wasn’t until you turned to him, your noses almost touching, that he realized it.
Did you eyes always look so beautiful?
And your lips…they never looked this soft before.
“..you’re so gorgeous baby, is this some kind of punishment?..”
He gently cups your cheek, his lips almost brushing against yours when suddenly—
“What are you doing?”
This snaps him out of his trance before a deep blush spread across his face.
“I-I..I dunno? You just- well I thought…”
Yeah he sure as hell was thinking.
Thinking of all the ways he could have you!
He lets out a small whine, his brows knitting together in frustration.
“Can we just…not do this challenge anymore…please?”
I mean if he’s talking to you like that, who are you to say no?
Besides you could always just…edge him a lil right?
Characters: REIGEN (again), SERIZAWA, Rengoku, Armin, Jean, BOKUTO (again), CHOSO, Beelzebub, DIAVOLO, ITTO (again), Thoma, LIAOS (any character you like)
The type to barely last the whole month
“Why would you want to do that? We both know you’re not gonna make it."
“Well the challenge is for you! Not me!”
“...but my point still stands.”
His point sure as hell did stand and it hurt you to admit that he was right!
Already 17 days in and he hadn’t budged an inch.
How was this man still going??
You even tried to sabotage him, sitting on his lap only for him to laugh and gently push you off.
Kissing up his neck with your arms around his waist while he made dinner only for him to ask you to grab some spices.
Even you making crude dirty jokes, only for him to blush slightly and brush you off!
This was just getting ridiculous and now you were looking like the needy one!
“For someone who wanted me to take on this challenge, it seems like you’re the one feeling it the most.”
You shoot him a glare.
You were annoyed he was right.
Annoyed that he could still tease you, fully damn aware of what you wanted!
“You can hold out for another 13 days can’t you, sweetheart? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
What you didn’t realize was that these last few days were weighing on your boyfriend too.
He was doing a great job of hiding it when you were around, but when he was alone—
“Shit…”
He slammed his fist against the bathroom wall at work a growing tightness forming in his pants.
You just loved to tease, didn’t you?
Couldn’t you see this was driving him crazy too?
And to think you could send him such…things while he’s at work!
“Damn this…”
He was going to get his revenge; mark his words. Once this month wraps up, he was going to have his way with you.
And so he did yippee!! 😈
Characters: Giyuu, Kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, kuroo, IWAIZUMI, Akaashi, Ushijima, SUNA, Osamu, Geto, NANAMI, Lucifer, Satan, SOLOMON, Ayato, DILUC, Neuvillette, Writhoesley, ZHONGLI, Sylus, Zayne (any character you like)
The type to say they lasted the whole month (he jerked off)
“Babe come on, we both know I have some self restraint when it comes to you.”
“Do we?”
He shoots you a sharp look.
“Yes. We do. And I find it quite offensive you don’t believe I can last a simple 30 days without sex-"
You had to break it to him he couldn’t touch himself.
“I-I can’t?!”
Sure it was a lil surprising to him to hear that he couldn’t flick his tip and buss one little nut, but hey!
That wasn’t going to stop him!
I mean how would you ever find out he touched himself if you weren’t there, huh?
Simple as that!
“You’re...strangely happy today...something good happen?”
A few days had gone by since the challenge started, and November was finally winding down, which felt like a relief after those tough days.
The main reason for the struggle was your boyfriend’s constant whining about how his “body craved some kind of touch—anything!”
Now all of a sudden he’s happy days and roses.
You were suspicious.
“Who wouldn’t be? 30 days of war are finally over! Told you I could last.”
You give him a weird look.
It was almost too obvious that he had done something. That smirk was unmistakable—the same one he wore when he knew he’d crossed a line!
The same one he flashed when he’s trying to keep his secrets under wraps!
“You failed didn’t you.”
“W-what! Where’d ya get that idea?”
He finally admits to you after a while of back and forth he failed a few days after the night you challenged him.
At least he lasted a week in?
Characters: Dimple, Sanemi, TENGEN, Connie, Nishinoya, Ukai, Tendou, ATSUMU, GOJO, Toji, MAMMON (again), Belphagor, CHILDE, kaeya (again), CHILCHUCK, Rafayel (again) (any character you like)
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svtiddiess · 2 days ago
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Suppressed Desires
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Synopsis: Jeonghan is your first everything—your first kiss, your first date, your first boyfriend—and now, you want him to be your first in every way. But every time you try to take things further, he seems to pull away. Doubts creep in, making you wonder if he doesn’t find you attractive. But he’s quick to show you that’s not the case.
Pairing: Jeonghan x virgin!afab!reader
Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship
Rating: mature
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, protected sex (we cheered!), corruption kink, body worship, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, mentions of insecurities, aftercare, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy this anon.
Thank you always to my loves @tomodachiii and @tusswrites for beta reading and helping me with the plot!
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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The sound of the TV is muffled, forgotten in the background. The feeling of Jeonghan's lips against yours is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. They feel so soft, so warm, and so perfect. You get lost in the way they moulded against yours. You're draped across his lap, his hands keeping you steady. You thread your fingers through his short brown hair, giving it a gentle tug that draws a groan from his lips.
You want more. You crave more. You want to feel him all over you, inside you. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly start to grind your hips against his. He suddenly pulls away, his hands stopping you from moving. You look down at him, confused.
“We should get back to the movie; we wouldn’t want to miss the climax,” he says softly, a gentle smile on his lips.
You furrow your brows, pouting. Jeonghan always does this—every time things start to get more intimate, he somehow stops it. Something suddenly comes up, he brushes off the moment, or he simply leaves the room. You have no idea why he does this, but you don’t have the heart to ask. Suppressing a sigh, you nod and slide off his lap, reluctantly settling back to watch a movie you don’t really care about.
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Opening your front door, you practically jump into Jeonghan's arms; it's been almost two weeks since you last saw him due to his busy schedule. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, snuggling his nose into your hair and inhaling your scent.
"I missed you so much bubs," he sighs.
"Missed you more," you mumble into his chest.
He gives you a gentle squeeze before cupping your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. His lips find yours, and you melt into the kiss. You’ve missed him so much, his presence, his scent, his warmth, and the feeling of his lips on yours.
You wanted to feel more of him, you needed more of him. You press up against him and tilt your head to deepen the kiss. He groans, and his hands roam down to your ass, squeezing them and eliciting a moan from you.
"H-Hannie," you whimper.
He suddenly pauses, pulling his lips away from yours. You look up at him, confused, wondering if you did something wrong.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, brow furrowed.
“Sorry, bubs. I’m just tired. How about we take a nap together?” he murmurs, gently caressing your face.
Biting your lip, you reluctantly nod. He kisses the top of your head and leads you to the bedroom.
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Lying in his arms, you pout as thoughts race through your mind. Did you do something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable? You shift carefully, not wanting to wake Jeonghan, who’s softly snoring beside you.
Jeonghan is your very first boyfriend. You’d never really pictured yourself in a relationship, content with being single and even imagining you’d stay that way. But then Jeonghan came into your life, and everything changed.
He just feels so… perfect. Like you’re meant to be. He treats you with such tenderness, caring for you like a delicate flower. He’s your first in so many ways—first boyfriend, first date, first kiss. You want him to be your first time, too. But every time you try to take things further, he suddenly pulls away.
Does he not feel that way about you? Does he not see you as sexy and desirable? Maybe he’s only with you out of pity. Maybe he doesn’t truly love you and feels obligated to stay. As these thoughts swirl, a few tears slip down your cheeks.
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Friday night—one of your favourite nights, marking the end of the workweek and the start of the weekend. Even better, Jeonghan’s schedule ended early, so he decided to spend the evening with you.
You’re cooking dinner for both of you while Jeonghan clings to you from behind, occasionally planting kisses on your neck, making you giggle.
“Jeonghan, I won’t be able to finish dinner if you keep distracting me like this,” you laugh as he starts to sway with you.
“But you’re so cute and cuddly,” he whines.
“You can cuddle me all you want after I finish dinner.”
You can’t see him, but you can definitely feel him pout as he stops swaying and loosens his grip. You chuckle, shaking your head, heart swelling at his playful antics.
Dinner was filled with the usual, compliments, catching up, laughter, and, of course, a bit of teasing. After cleaning up, you both decide to settle in for a movie night. Cuddled up on the couch, you put on one of your favourite movies, Iron Man (definitely not because you have a crush on Tony Stark). The lights are off, and the only thing illuminating the room is the soft glow from the TV.
The TV’s light highlights Jeonghan’s features, making him look even more handsome, and you can’t help but admire him. Jeonghan notices you watching him and turns with a smile.
“Am I really that handsome that I managed to distract you from the Tony Stark?” he chuckles.
“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, snuggling into the crook of his neck, which makes him laugh softly.
“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, rubbing your back gently.
You playfully bite his neck, making him let out a small yelp as he pulls back, wide-eyed. You burst into laughter at his shocked expression.
“Oh, you little—” he growls, grabbing you and starting to tickle you, making you squeal and try to push him away.
But he doesn’t relent, pinning you down on the couch and using his body to hold you in place. His hands tickle your sides, and you laugh uncontrollably, struggling to catch your breath.
"I yield! I yield!" You yell out, writhing under him.
He lets out a laugh, grabs your hands, and pins them to the couch above your head. The both of you catch your breath as you stare at each other. He looks ethereal, his hair is messy but it frames his face perfectly, his cheeks are flushed from laughing, and his eyes have a sparkle to them which you can get lost in.
A beat passes and Jeonghan blinks.
"S-Sorry," he mumbles and gets off you, you can't help but frown.
You sit up and bite your bottom lip.
“Jeonghan…do you…not find me attractive?” You whisper, tears pricking your eyes.
“What?” His head snaps toward you, his expression bewildered.
“Every time I try to initiate something more, you just…push me away,” you sniffle, frowning. “Do you not find me attractive? Are you only with me out of obligation? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I…I’d understand if you did.”
You feel the air grow still as Jeonghan blinks at you, his expression bewildered. After a few beats, his gaze shifts—his eyes darken, and a slow smirk spreads across his face.
"I don’t find you attractive?" he mutters with a low chuckle, shaking his head.
His eyes lock onto yours with an intense, dark look that sends a shiver up your spine.
"I don’t find you attractive?" he repeats, louder this time, his tone laced with offence.
With a growl, he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, his lips devouring yours. You let out a small squeak, not expecting this behaviour from your usually sweet and caring boyfriend.
Noticing your hesitance, he pulls back. His thumb gently caresses your cheek, as he looks at you with longing and lust.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me Y/N?" he whispers against your lips. "Do you have any idea how much you drive me insane? Hm?"
He leans back and takes your hand, guiding it to rest over his bulge; you gasp, he's rock solid.
"Jeonghan…?" You whisper, your heart lurching in your chest.
“Do you want me to show you? Show you just how much I’ve been holding back?” He asks, breath ragged.
You lick your lips as you look at his bulge straining against his pants. Your eyes slowly travel over his breathless figure before meeting his gaze, and you nod.
His lips immediately latch onto yours, his movements rough and aggressive. You submit to him, letting him take complete control. His hand rests at the back of your head, gently guiding you. He tilts his head and prods his tongue against your lips. You open your mouth, giving him full access.
He starts sucking on your tongue, making you moan against him. The kiss is messy and intense, his tongue clashing against yours hungrily. You can't help but whimper, relishing the feeling taking over your body.
Needing air, you both pull apart, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You look at Jeonghan—his pupils are blown wide with lust, lips swollen and shiny from kissing, cheeks flushed as he pants. You can imagine you’re in a similar state.
"You taste like sweet innocence," he murmurs, caressing your cheek. "And I've imagined countless times tainting your innocence with my sin."
Your breath hitches at his words.
"Please taint me with your sin Jeonghan," you mewl.
"Whatever you wish, my sweet," he growls with a smirk.
With a final peck on your lips, he leads you to the bedroom. Your heart races in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement about what’s to come.
Once you’re sitting on the bed, a wave of anxiety hits you. You’ve imagined this moment countless times, but now that it’s actually happening, you suddenly feel nervous. What if once you're undressed, he doesn’t find you attractive? What if you mess up? What if he’s not satisfied?
Noticing your distracted thoughts, Jeonghan cups your cheek and looks at you with concern.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. You don't have to force yourself bubs."
"No, no! I want this!" You protest, shaking your head.
"It's just…what if once I'm naked, you don't find me attractive anymore?" You whisper, unable to meet his gaze as tears well up in your eyes.
His expression hardens at your words. Gently, he guides you onto your back as he crawls on top of you.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've seen in my entire life," he murmurs, placing kisses along your jaw.
He starts to slowly undress you, placing kisses on every exposed inch. He whispers sweet nothings into your skin, making you shiver under him. Any thoughts of insecurity fade away as Jeonghan continues to worship your body.
After you're fully undressed, he stares at you, mesmerised by your beauty. He bites his lip, his eyes tracing your figure as if he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.
"Not even the beauty of the goddess of love can compare to you," he exhales in a daze, and your cheeks flush at his words.
"I can't believe you thought I wasn't attracted to you," he scoffs with a playful grin.
He leans down and captures your lips into a deep kiss, one you return with equal fervour. Your hands weave into his hair, drawing him closer to you.
"I need to taste you, will you let me taste you, bubs?" He breathlessly mumbles against your lips.
You blush at his words, your heart skipping a beat, but you nod shyly.
He slowly starts trailing kisses down to your dripping core and your body shivers due to the cold and anticipation.
"So beautiful," he whispers before licking a long stripe up your cunt.
You gasp and whimper at the new sensation, legs reflexively closing.
"Ah, ah, keep them open for me bubs," he teases as he pulls apart your legs.
Heat rushes to your cheeks as your glistening core is fully displayed for him. He dives in, tongue prodding against your entrance. You moan and whimper at the sensation, hands flying to thread in his hair.
"Fuck, you taste better than I ever imagined," he groans against you, sending vibrations of pleasure through you.
You shut your eyes as the euphoric feeling of his tongue inside you takes over you. You've never felt such sensations before, and now that you have, you never want it to stop. You unintentionally buck your hips against him, he grunts and holds your hips down, preventing you from moving.
Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure as his tongue continues to push against the deepest part of you, lapping up all your juices. You couldn't help but moan his name out loud, which only egged him on further. He was eating you out like a starved man.
He shifts to suck on your clit, and you scream in pleasure. The euphoria becomes overwhelming, sending a tingly sensation through your whole body. A knot forms in your lower abdomen, and your breath catches, unsure of the sensation.
"H-Hannie! I think I-I'm," your voice is shaky and you're barely able to get the words out.
"Cum for me bubs, cum all over my tongue," He murmurs before returning to suck on the sensitive spot.
At his words, the knot snaps, and you feel an overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over you. Your vision goes white, and it feels like your head is underwater. Jeonghan continues to lap up your juices, working you through your orgasm. He stops once he hears you whine.
He sits up and your breath catches at the sight of him. His hair is messy, his chin is coated in your arousal, his eyes are blown out with lust, and a smirk is plastered on his face.
"How did that feel bubs?" He asks, his hands running up and down your hips.
"Feel so good Hannie," you whisper, still panting from your high.
"Wanna taste yourself? Wanna see how sweet you taste?" He grins.
You bite your lip and nod, he leans down and kisses you messily letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your face scrunches up in disgust at the taste, and you hear Jeonghan chuckle into the kiss.
"What's wrong bub? Don't like the taste?" He teases.
"I don’t understand how you like it," you say, scrunching your nose in distaste.
"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, I can't get enough of you," he purrs, making you blush.
Jeonghan leans back and groans at the sight of you—you look so perfect beneath him. Your hair is splayed out over the pillow, eyes dazed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing, and your chest rising and falling with each breath. He wants to capture this moment in his memory forever.
Grinding your hips against him, you whine and pout, drawing a chuckle out of Jeonghan.
"Want me to fuck you, bubs? Fill you up with my cock?" He purrs with a smirk.
Your face warms at his words, and you cover it with your hands, nodding shyly. Jeonghan chuckles at your cuteness.
"I want to hear you say it, or else I'm not giving it to you," he says in a cheeky tone.
You let out a whine and huff, and Jeonghan laughs at your frustration.
"You're not getting my cock until you ask for it, bubs," he gives you that familiar grin, the one he always has when he’s teasing you. His thumb starts drawing circles on your hips and you squirm in place.
"I-I want your cock, Hannie," you mumble through your hands, your voice barely over a whisper.
"Hm? What was that, bubs? I couldn't hear you," he teases, his hands slowly trailing lower.
You thrash in place, letting out a whine, and he chuckles at your antics. His hand shifts to your inner thighs, drawing circles near your sensitive bud.
"Hannie, please! I need your cock so bad!" You yell out in frustration.
"Fuck, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for that," he groans.
He shifts off the bed and takes a condom out of his wallet before discarding his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. You look at him in confusion as he pulls out the foil packet.
"Why do you have a condom in your wallet?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"You never know when an opportunity like this might come along—I always have to be prepared, bubs," he winks.
He slowly removed his boxers, and you choke back a gasp at the sight of his cock. He was so thick and long; you had an idea of how big he might be when you touched him earlier, but seeing it in person leaves your mouth feeling dry. How was that supposed to fit inside you?
"Don't worry bubs, I'll go slow. You can tell me to stop anytime and I will," he reassures you, sensing your worry.
You lick your lips and nod; he gives you a gentle smile, then wraps the condom over his cock. He shifts to move over you, lining his cock with your entrance. You gaze into his eyes, momentarily lost in their depths. He looks at you as if you’re the only thing in the entire universe. The tips of your noses touch, and his hand gently caresses your cheek.
"I'm going to taint you and claim you as mine," he growls as he slowly enters you.
Your breath hitches, and your body tenses as he slowly enters you, he slots his lips against yours as a way to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling.
"Relax for me bubs," he groans against your lips before connecting them again.
You try your best to relax your body, eyebrows furrowing and slightly wincing at the intrusion. You're grateful that Jeonghan is distracting you from the burn. He lets out a moan once he's fully inside you.
"Let me know when I can move," he strains next to your ear.
You can see he's struggling to restrain himself by the way his body tenses and his muscles twitch. You take a few deep breaths and then nod; he slowly begins to thrust his hips, letting out soft groans.
"F-Fuck, you're perfect," he moans, eyebrows furrowing as he struggles to control himself; you feel so good wrapped around him.
The uncomfortable feeling soon morphs into pleasure, you grab onto his shoulders and moan out his name. Soon, euphoria floods through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the intense sensation sweeps over you.
"Look at me bubs, look at me as I'm ruining you," he grunts as his hips rhythmically continue to thrust into you.
You force your eyes open and look at him, and Jeonghan almost cums right then and there. You look like an angel, with that fucked out expression—an angel he plans to keep for himself for the rest of his life. This is a million times better than what he has imagined those countless times he would jerk off to you.
"S-Shit, I can't hold back anymore," he rasps, and he starts drilling into you, his pace inhuman.
You yell out his name and dig your fingernails into his shoulders, eliciting a hiss from him.
"Need to make you cum bubs, can you do that? Can you cum for me again?" he hums.
Whimpering, you nod, already feeling a knot forming. His hand sneaks down your body and rubs your clit with expert precision, you moan feeling your body quake with pleasure.
"Cum for me bubs, cream all over my cock," he growls, and at his words, the knot snaps, and you cum hard, waves of pleasure washing over you.
He cums soon after, filling up the condom with his seed. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, each exhale coming out in ragged gasps. You take a moment to admire how angelic Jeonghan looks—his face flushed, hair sticking to his forehead from perspiration, his eyes dazed, and the post-orgasm making him glow. You wish this moment could last forever.
He leans down and kisses you tenderly, lovingly, as if you’re a delicate flower that might break—despite his earlier actions being the complete opposite.
"I love you so much, more than you could ever know. The stars in the night sky are just a fraction of how deeply I feel for you. You’re perfect, bubs. Don’t you ever think otherwise," he whispers as he caresses your cheek, his eyes dripping with love.
"Or else I might have to punish you," he smirks, giving you a cheeky wink. You gasp, hitting his shoulder and whining for him not to joke about things like that.
"Who says I'm joking?" he grins before placing a peck on your lips on your pouty lips.
He slowly removes himself, and you wince and whine at the emptiness. He hushes you gently and reassures you that he’s just going to grab a washcloth to clean you up. After disposing of the condom and grabbing a washcloth, he quickly returns and very gently cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle near your delicate parts.
After cleaning you up and discarding the washcloth, he lies back down beside you and pulls you into his arms. He starts peppering kisses across your face, causing you to giggle.
"I love you, my sweet baby dumpling," he sighs, snuggling his face into your cheek; you roll your eyes and chuckle at the nickname.
"And I love you, my pesky angel," you giggle.
The night unfolds as you drift into each other’s arms, like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned. To Jeonghan, you mean the world and more, and he never fails to show you just how deeply he feels.
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Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite
@miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127
@sclovreina @theidontknowmehn
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thetetra · 3 days ago
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I mean cheers to the positivity in the post and all but Imma tell a story to round this off and ground it a little.
Due to a series of accidents I ended up playing the violin as a child ( I can tell that atory upon request). 1 through 5th grades I played. and I hated it. I knew I was supposed to get better but it just made my hands hurt and I eeked along bit by bit.
Then my 5th grade summer I went to Orchestra camp in Tulsa Oklahoma, about a 2 hour drive from my house. The first day this older Russian woman started telling us how we were holding our instruments wrong BASED ON THE CALLUSES ON OUR HANDS. So she tells people how to correct their stance, feet too far apart, shoulders too far forward ect ect and gets to me. And she goes over my hands again and is just silent, then she says "You will never be good at the violin" and then continues to start talking to me about the cello or maybe a base, possibly a viola. And I couldn't hear her over the sound of the relief I felt. My hands were too big. I had put in all that work and gotten nothing back or gotten an inch where I put in a miles of effort.
And I went home and I said to my parents "I don't think I want to play the violin anymore " thinking they'd yell at me and I would get grounded and be in trouble, but they just said "Oh okay!" and didn't send me to the rest of Orchestra camp.
I can still hear those book 1 songs from an old cassette tape in my head, played beautifully by a master nice and slow easy to follow "Now you try!" ... and I can hear how I played it with all the errors and extra noises and dropping the violin when I needed to shift my grip.
Natural talent is a factor... and if you mention that you could never do it that is valid and not an automatic dismissal of every bit of work they did.
If you are enjoying the work then do the work and hone it! I hope you make tangible progress for a thousand thousand years! But if you are banging your head against a wall and the basics escape you, then appreciate the experience and find something that is better suited to making you happy as you do it
So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?
“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”
And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.
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starkeygirls · 2 days ago
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i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g
chapter 1
rafe cameron x pogue!reader
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summary: really bad at these!
wc: 2.5k
warning: none! i haven't written in a while, this is a rewrite of a story that i started in 2020, so please bare with me as i get back in the groove of writing.
a/n: guess who's back, back again. determined to finish this series. rafe and sofia in s4 really inspired me to get back into this fic, hope you all like it ◡̈ pls reblog/comment/etc.. would love to hear your thoughts ◡̈
______________________________________________________________
Sometimes you really fit into Figure 8. Sometimes you all did. Like when John B was off with Sarah and he was wearing the clothes that she had bought him to go out golfing or go to brunch at the yacht club. Or when Kie was dragged to a kook event by her parents at the country club. Pope wore his suit when he had different scholarship and college interviews- and he really gave the kook boys a run for their money with how good he looked in his steamed suit. JJ was the least likely to really look like he would ever fit in on Figure 8, and that was because he never wanted to. He reserved his ‘money suit’, as he called it, for when he had to work as a busboy, and occasionally picked up other gigs. You, however, were fitting in more often than you would have liked. 
You tucked your white cashmere sweater into your long, green pleated skirt. Letting out a small huff as you sprayed your perfectly curled hair one more time. Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you trudged down your hallway, your sneakers cost more than $400. You could still remember how your jaw dropped when you saw the pricetag, and apparently the kooks ate these shoes up. They needed them in every color, every new style that came out. It was madness, if you were being honest. It was like they were just giving away money. 
That’s what it seemed like, at least. You had been working at a retail store in the main strip of Figure 8 for over a year now. It was the only way you could afford the clothes you were wearing. You got a steep discount off the price, and you knew how to shop sales better than anyone. 
Your kook masquerade was always squished the moment you walked out to your car. The old beat up Honda that was always parked out front was nothing like what a kook would drive. It was too old. A 2005? The kooks didn’t know what anything from that year was- maybe only their participation trophies from little league that had the year engraved, that was about it. 
Unlocking the car, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling up your seatbelt. 
“Please start, Hilda..” You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand turned the key in the ignition. She did, as usual- but you would never forget the time that she broke down. You cried for the ten minutes it took John B and JJ to rescue you. They were like your own little mechanics. Pope had called you in the car for the ten minutes while you sobbed and tried to calm you down- it didn’t work. Nothing worked until you saw your car fixed. You still owed them for saving your ass that day, regardless of how many times they assured you it was really nothing.
Crossing over the bridge from The Cut to Figure 8, you sighed: traffic. You knew by now the traffic was always bad as you headed into the main strip of town. It was the most popular place. Coffee shops, restaurants, stores.. Who wouldn’t be there if they had the money and time? Yeah, the coffee was overpriced and no one knew how to drive in their expensive cars, but it was still nice. Nicer than The Cut where people revved their engines when you scurried across the street.
It took you a half hour to finally pull into the parking lot behind your store. Saturdays were always the worst traffic wise, but boy, was it a good sales day. Checking the time, you bit your lip as you contemplated running to the cafe a few shops down to get a coffee. Technically you had time- you were always early. You had a fear of being late if you were being honest. You knew it looked bad, and it wasn’t hard for you to just leave a little early for wherever you were going. It took you two minutes to walk to the cafe, and you would give yourself ten minutes to be in the cafe, another two minutes to walk back, and you had twenty minutes until you had to clock in. What if the cafe was busy? What if it took you fifteen minutes in there? 
You slammed the car door and walked towards the Cove Cafe. The bell dinged as you walked in, a smile pressed to your lips as you pushed your sunglasses to your head. It wasn’t busy. What a relief. You smiled at the barista as you walked up to the counter. You and Gabriella had become good friends from your constant stops to the overpriced coffee shop. 
“The usual?” She asked with a grin, scribbling onto the cup as you nodded your head. You still had ten minutes to get back to the shop before you had to clock in. You smiled and waved back to Gabriella as you left the shop, sipping on the drink that had become a staple to your routine.
This Saturday was not a good day for sales. The weather must’ve been too nice, or everyone had gone to the mainland. The traffic you had fought through died down, and the small shop was deserted. Main Street in general was deserted. You and your co-worker, Abigail were basically staring at each other for four hours. It was painful at this point. You both had resorted to hiding off to the side hall to watch Netflix shows, peering your heads out when you heard the door open. 
Most of the time it was one or two people wandering in- usually tourons who just looked around and pulled you away from the show. It was your turn to walk out there when the door dinged, watching as two people walked in. Your eyes squinted as you looked to the security camera before heading out from behind the curtain. 
You tried to hide your surprise- and disgust- as your eyes glanced over to see Topper Thorton and Rafe Cameron in the small store. What did they want? Were they making rounds because Sarah was complaining about something John B had said? You knew it wasn’t a good idea John B was hanging around her. Were they threatening your group? 
Was it too late to shove Abigail out here? Was it too late to lock the doors and pretend you never opened? Were you allowed to not greet them? Spit in their faces? 
“Do you have this in a large?” Rafe’s question knocked you from your thoughts, blinking a few times before you furrowed your brows. 
“Let me go check for you.” You smiled at the two boys before heading behind the curtain where Abigail was. “How did I get so unlucky to have to deal with Topper and Rafe? How come you got a Hollywood directors cousin and I get two assholes who aren’t going to spend any money?” A groan escaped your lips before you brought yourself down the stairs to the stockroom. 
– 
“So you’re going to take the three shirts, the sweater and the two pants and then we’re going to order you the polo in the salmon color, and the sneakers, right?” You ran by him one more time. 
“Yeah, and ship it to the store if you can.” Rafe nodded, tapping his American Express Platinum card against the wooden counter. You nodded, typing away on the ipad register. It was a relief to finally be getting them out of the store, though they were a lot less of a pain then you had originally thought they would be. In fact, they were really respectful a complete 180 from what you were used to experiencing. They had hung back up everything they had tried on, and made sure to get a full glance of everything they could want in a different size or color before making you run to the stockroom once they were aware it was in a basement.
The only awkward part of the whole interaction was when you had absentmindedly walked back to the fitting rooms and saw Rafe shirtless as he spoke to Topper about the shirt he had on. 
“Pants fit well.” You awkwardly smiled, diverting your eyes from Rafe’s toned chest. You didn’t hate having them in the store, and he was about to drop a lot of money which was only going to be more money in your pocket.
“You’re all set. Everything should be here by Wednesday the latest. I’ll give you a call when they get here.” You smiled, watching him tap the heavy card against the card reader. His blue eyes glanced up to meet your own eyes. 
“Could you text me, actually? The number on file is my cell.” Your eyes glanced to Topper as he smirked, eyes glancing your way. To be honest, you were surprised. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to text customers for outreach or order updates- but it was the look Rafe was giving you, it was the smirk Topper had plastered to his face, it was the way Rafe was leaning on the counter. 
“And then as if spending an hour with them wasn’t bad enough, he asked me to text him when his order got to the store!” You were pacing in the living room of the chateau. You had driven straight there after work, it was a bit of a usual for all of you. After work on Saturdays, everyone would meet at the chateau and unwind, usually a beer or two, and pizza. 
“Why are you dressed like you’re from the 60’s?” JJ asked, as if he hadn’t been looking at you for the past fifteen minutes you had been ranting. 
“That isn’t the point, idiot.” Kiara chimed in, shaking her head at JJ’s comment. “Love the sweater by the way.” She smiled. 
“Dude, it retails for like three hundred, I almost threw up when a woman asked me where it was in the store the last time I wore it and then she bought it in the three colors we have.” You smiled back, finally plopping onto the couch next to JJ. His eyes were wide as he looked to your sweater, before petting it. 
“Fuck, it’s soft.” 
“It’s cashmere and get your grubby hands off of it. You probably have oil or beer on your hands, and it’s dry clean only.” Your hand smacked at his.
“So when’s your first date with Rafe.” JJ teased, a groan leaving your lips as your head fell back.
“Where the hell did a date even come into this? If he gets my number that’s just another way to threaten us.” 
“I wish John B and Sarah were here to hear all this.. Sarah would lose it.” Kie laughed. “But, we would probably get to the bottom of it. She would just text him and see what was up. Either we’re overthinking it, or we’re perfectly on track for whatever his twisted mind is thinking.” 
“So are you going to wear cashmere on your date with him? Do you think he’ll pay?” JJ continued, a grin planted to his face. He wasn’t going to let it die down, which you should have expected. Jeez, where was Pope, John B and Sarah when you needed them? 
– 
Your fingers hovered over your phone after you had texted Rafe, the chat bubble signaling he was responding - and fast. There was no need to be nervous about whatever he was saying, it was your job, after all. Texting him as he requested for the order he placed - you hadn’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary. 
You jumped a bit feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, eyes scanning the text saying he would probably show up right before you closed because he was busy. Your lips pulled into a tight line, preparing yourself to have to stay past close. You hearted the message without even thinking, all sense of professionalism threw itself out the window. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, too late now to undo what had been done. 
The store was in nearly perfect condition, you had told Abigail to head home, that you would wait out Rafe’s arrival on your own, assuring her he would surely only be about 5-10 minutes. You finger spaced the racks twice, re-folded your tables and even dusted off the mannequins as you waited for his arrival. It was now thirty minutes past close, the doors had been locked, your fingers tapped along the desk as a sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling. Pulling your phone out of pocket, your fingers fired off a message to Rafe. 
hey! i’ve gotta close up, we’re open from 9-7 tomorrow, just tell the associate you’re picking up :) 
Grabbing your things from the back, your keys twirled around your fingers, jumping as a figure was looking into the glass doors of the store. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes looked to Rafe’s, a smile pressed to his lips as he caught the panic course through your body. A small debate ran through your brain, should you even let him have his things? He should and could wait until the following day. Teach him a lesson on being punctual. 
His hand knocked on the door, smile still pressed tight to his lips. It was almost cocky, like he knew that you would let him in. Before even making a conscious decision, your feet were carrying you to the door and unlocking it. 
“Maybe we should add a watch to your order, seems like you could use it.” Your tone was a bit harsher than you intended, but at this point, he was wasting your time. Holding the door open, you quickly locked it after he entered. 
“I’m only thirty minutes late.” 
“You knew when we closed, you’re abusing my kindness.” 
“Is that what you call the attitude?” Your eyes were glaring at this point, feet carrying you quickly to the back where Rafe’s items were packaged neatly, a bow around the handle of the bag and all. Grabbing it, you gasped yet again as he had been closer to the curtain to the back than anticipated. A chuckle escaping his lips. “You look like a deer in headlights.” 
“Can you just take your things and go? I’ve spent enough time in this store.” A huff escaped your lips as you shoved the bag to Rafe, already walking towards the front door to escort him out. “And don’t worry, I’ll send you watches during my next shift so you can work on being on time.” 
“So you want to see me again?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, smirk pressing to his lips. He clearly was in no rush to leave, or leave without frustrating you any bit he could. 
“Right now I would love nothing more than to watch you leave, Rafe.” Unlocking the door, and opening it you motion for him to leave, your patience growing thin as he took his time walking from the store. “Thanks for shopping with us today.” You mutter before closing the door behind him and locking it. 
Scrolling through your phone, a text pulled your brows together. 
so, how’d i look walking away?
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demaparbat-hp · 15 hours ago
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Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍
Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!
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Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?
SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.
Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.
SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.
His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.
AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.
His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)
KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...
She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.
She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).
TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?
Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.
Zuko. ZUKO.
Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.
This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.
The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.
In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.
He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.
In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.
But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.
When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.
He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.
He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.
As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.
He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.
Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.
In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...
Two someones, actually.
Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...
Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.
Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.
Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.
Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...
Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.
(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)
.
Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?
If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️
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syluslnd · 2 days ago
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hii i have a few requests i hope you dont mind 🥺🫶 feel free to pick to do any if they have not been done yet, they are kinda mostly prompts though 😭
sylus with a streamer/gamer s/o. like those fics where the fans go crazy when sylus shows up in the camera out of nowhere or hearing his voice. and sylus just being supportive about their hobby 😞❤️
sylus reaction when they have a cosplayer s/o, especially when they come home every day and they meet a new character daily or every other day 😭🤣
sylus reaction when s/o gets period stains during their date
sylus with s/o who cant cook but not the those exaggerated types where they burn the whole kitchen, they just didnt learn how to cook, but can do the bare minimum of helping like slicing and stuff and very easy recipes (projecting because i can't cook but am helpful 😭)
when you get your period mid date
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The evening had started off perfectly. You and Sylus were sitting across from each other in one of the fanciest restaurants in town, your skin-tight dress fitting you like a glove. The low lights, soft music and clinking of glasses around you added to the elegance of the night. Sylus looked especially handsome tonight, his gaze on you steady and smoldering and his signature teasing smile made your heart flutter.
Everything was going smoothly—that is, until you felt that familiar pang low in your abdomen. You froze, hoping it was just nerves. But then, you felt a sinking dread as the sensation intensified. Trying not to panic, you excused yourself, offering Sylus a nervous smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Take your time, sweetie” he replied with a slight smirk. “Don’t go missing me too much.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him a quick wave before heading to the bathroom. But once you were inside, your worst fear was confirmed: a noticeable stain had appeared on the back of your dress. Panic bubbled up in your chest as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, mortified. This wasn’t just any dress, either; it was a pale color, practically a magnet for accidents.
Not knowing what else to do, you took a shaky breath and pulled out your phone, dialing Sylus’s number with trembling fingers. He picked up on the first ring.
“Miss me already?” His voice was laced with humor, but you could practically hear the smile on his face.
“Sylus” you whispered, cringing at how shaky you sounded. “Can you… um… can you come to the bathroom? I need your help. It’s an emergency.”
There was a beat of silence. “Are you hurt, kitten?”
“No! No, not hurt” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just…my period..I’m stained!”
“Got it. Stay right there, I’m coming.” He hung up and you leaned against the counter, waiting anxiously. But as the seconds ticked by, you began to feel more and more self-conscious. What was taking him so long?
After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door finally opened and there stood Sylus—with a designer shopping bag in his hand. You blinked, trying to process the sight.
“Sylus, what…?” You trailed off, completely baffled.
He smirked, holding up the bag. “What? Did you think I was going to leave my sweetie hanging?” He stepped forward, setting the bag down on the counter. “Got you a new dress. I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with… you know.” He gestured vaguely, clearly trying to spare you any embarrassment.
Your jaw dropped, both at his thoughtfulness and at the brand-name logo on the bag. “Wait, you actually bought me a new dress? From there?” you asked, pointing out the door, toward the designer store just across the street.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Seemed like the right call. Plus, I got to take my time picking something pretty for you.” His smirk widened. “Had to make sure it’d look perfect on my kitten.”
You let out a small laugh, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude, though your cheeks burned at the thought of him going out of his way for this. “Sylus, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“How about you say you’ll wear it and let me get back to showing you off to the rest of the place?” he teased, handing the bag to you.
You reached for it, heart racing as you peeked inside. The dress was stunning, a rich, deep color that would look amazing on you, with a soft fabric that looked comfortable enough to help you feel more at ease.
“Sylus” you murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Thank you.”
He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “Anything for you, sweetie” he replied, his voice softer, his teasing tone gone for just a moment.
You felt your chest warm and you tried to look away, but he gently turned your face back toward him. “Hey, don’t get all shy on me now” he said, his smirk returning. “It’s cute, though. Didn’t know I could get my girl so flustered.”
You laughed, half-embarrassed and half-touched and stepped back toward the stall to change. “I’ll be right back” you promised, disappearing inside and slipping on the new dress. When you stepped out, you felt a little self-conscious, smoothing the fabric over your hips.
Sylus’s gaze met yours, his eyes lighting up with admiration. “Beautiful” he said simply, letting his gaze linger as if he were committing the sight to memory.
You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze but a smile crept onto your face as you looked at him. “Think we can go back and pretend like none of this happened?”
He chuckled, offering his arm with a grin. “Of course, kitten. I’ll even let you hold onto the bag—it’s yours, after all.”
You laughed, taking his arm, feeling a surge of confidence as he led you back to your table. Sylus didn’t just make you feel taken care of; he made you feel cherished, like every little detail about you was worth his time.
And as you settled back into your seat, he gave you a wink. “Next time, just call me sooner. Anything to keep my kitten comfortable, you know?”
You smiled, knowing he meant every word. The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and soft whispers and for the first time, you didn’t feel an ounce of insecurity—you were just glad to have Sylus by your side
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tofics · 9 hours ago
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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)
Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”
What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.
😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.
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S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.
“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
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Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
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“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.
S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”
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“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
🫡 Sir yes, sir.
“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”
I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.
“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
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“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.
Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.
🫠🙃🫠🙃
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”
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“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
*inhales* - *screams*
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”
😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!
“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
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You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”
😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.
Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!
Seeing Red
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“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)
Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too
I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚
You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.
“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 
You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”
“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 
Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you reply.
“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 
“Mhm.” 
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 
“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 
 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 
Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 
“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.
“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”
“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 
He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 
You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want this,” you grouse.
“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 
“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 
Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”
“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 
“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 
“I said yes,” you snap. 
Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”
“Just okay.” 
‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 
Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 
-
He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”
“Mmm, no.” 
Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”
“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 
Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”
“Fuck off, Joel.” 
So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 
-
“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 
“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 
“What’re you talkin’ about?” 
“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”
“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 
Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 
“The other one.” 
You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 
So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”
“JESUS,” you yell at him. 
“What?”
“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 
 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 
“No. It was burning me.” 
“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 
You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 
“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 
“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 
“You can ask, you know.” 
But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”
“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 
“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”
“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 
“Yes.” 
He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 
“It’s not your business.”
 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 
“I don’t want to,” you whine. 
“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 
“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 
“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 
You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 
“All of it.” 
You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 
“Yeah. I see that.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.
“Right.” 
“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”
“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 
“Somewhere else.” 
“Right. Somewhere else.” 
He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 
“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”
Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 
“Yes.” 
Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 
“Good.”
Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 
Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 
-
My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 
“Joel.” 
No answer. 
“JOELLLL,” you yell. 
Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 
He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”
You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”
“Hm,” he hums.
“What’s hm?” 
“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”
“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 
Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”
“Try what again?” 
You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 
“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.
“Yeah, but-” you begin.
Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”
He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.
Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 
It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.
“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”
You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 
He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 
There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 
“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.
“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”
Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 
He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 
 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”
“Fuck me,” you whisper. 
“Exactly.” 
Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 
You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”
“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”
When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 
“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”
“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”
“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”
“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 
“Figures.”
Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 
Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 
He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 
“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 
Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.
“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”
“Joel, I– ”
“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 
 You obey his rule and nod, yes.
He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”
Yes. You nod again. Quiet.
“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”
With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 
With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 
He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…
“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 
With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 
And fucks you, and fucks you. 
And keeps fucking you. 
It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”
“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 
This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.
 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 
It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 
“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 
“I’m - I’m–”
“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”
 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 
He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”
“I don’t think I can, Joel…”
“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 
That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”
You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.
He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 
Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 
“Super, yeah. Sore.” 
“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 
If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷
Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.
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soo0hee · 2 days ago
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Home At Last
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Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader x Choi Seungcheol
Summary — Jeonghan couldn't wait coming home to his loved ones. Especially when this was what was waiting for him...
Genre — smut, established relationship, idol!au
Warnings — penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe babes), fingering, heavy makeout session, tell me if i missed sumn
Word Count — 1.1k
Rating — nsfw
Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!
A/N — This was very heavily inspired by one of the daily thot discussions i had with @svtiddiess , you're welcome babe and no, i still can't write smut ;D
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Shivering, your eyes fell shut. The gentle touch of Jeonghans fingers trailing down the skin of your back, slow and barely there, down your spine as you stood in the middle of your bed room.
The giant window gave you an amazing view of the city of Seoul. A view you weren’t able to concentrate on at the moment.
Dressed only in the dress shirt of one of your boyfriends and a black pair of lace underwear you had their focus solely on you.
“God you drive me insane my love…” Jeonghan whispered against the shell of your ear, making you swallow down the breathy moan that had threatened to escape. “Such a good girl for us, our lovely baby…”
“Hannie…” you whined, not able to form coherent words when his lips met the sensitive skin of your neck. Dark marks were covering your throat, blooming in a beautiful combination of blue and purple Seungcheol had left just a few hours before.
The rapper was watching his lovers with dark eyes from the bed, perched up against the headboard and a hard on standing tall in his boxers.
“Always so good for us.” He almost growled and you swore you could feel your knees shaking at his raspy tone.
“Did you miss me, baby? Missed how my fingers felt while I was away?” Jeonghan pressed another kiss to your throat, arms wrapping around your form from behind.
You nodded quickly.
Yes, you had.
Not having Jeonghan for the last few weeks had taken a toll on you. Of course you had Seungcheol but both you and the leader knew that your little trio was only really complete when it was the 3 of you.
And now that he had finished his base training, he was finally home again.
Seungcheol hadn’t told you about Jeonghan coming home, wanting to surprise you and god did he not regret it. The happy spark that brightened your eyes when Jeonghan walked in were well worth it.
“Good, because I missed you too.”
He stirred you towards the bed.
Seungcheol thoroughly enjoyed the sight. His shirt hanging off of your shoulders and his boyfriend kissing every inch he could reach while leading you to him had his dick twitching.
He reached for your hand, waiting for you to take it.
“Hello pretty girl.” He hummed watching you crawl on the bed and to him. He groaned when you settled on his lap, pantie clad pussy settling right on his dick. The thin fabric of your and his underwear the only thing separating you.
Jeonghan shrugged of the black silk robe he had been wearing, revealing his naked body underneath before joining you and his leader and lover. The shirt you were wearing fell to the floor beside the bed.
You moaned, the friction of you grinding against Seungcheol sent heat up your spine and caused another loud tortured groan from them man underneath you.
“Do you hear that, my love? Hear how good you’re making Cheol feel?” Jeonghan mumbled against your skin, never quite stopping his kisses while cupping your breast from behind, thumb flicking against your nipples.
You keened into the kiss you shared with Seungcheol.
“Please fuck me?” you gasped out, soaking wet.
Both men chuckled and let their eyes meet over your shoulder.
“Do you hear that Hannie? Our baby want us to fuck her… think we can do that?”
Jumping out of your skin when Jeonghan cupped your damp pussy with his hand, fingers rubbing your clit through your panties. “Can’t wait to be inside of our good girl again. Missed fucking her so much.”
The way they talked to each other like you weren’t even there left you breathless. Like you were nothing but a dumb toy for them to use as they pleased.
Soon you were all three stark naked, Seungcheols dick fucking into you with vigor. His big hands on your waist, helping you bounce on him with Jeonghan enjoying the show, hand jerking himself and raveling in the noises that left your mouth at having your boyfriend hit that special spot inside you dead on with every thrust of his hips.
Your high pitched, breaths paired with Seungcheouls low grunts was music to his ears.
Jeonghan felt himself grow impatient.
He had been away for weeks, depriving himself of the sweet noises you made when they had you falling apart in between you. Depriving himself of the faces of pure pleasure you made when him and his boyfriend had you at their mercy. Depriving himself of the warmth he felt when he was with the 2 people he love most…
“Think you can handle us both baby?”
You whined when the leader stopped thrusting, eyes snapping over to Jeonghan who was watching you like you were his pray.
“Of course she can, right sweet girl?” Seungcheol said and lifted you of his member to turn you around before sinking back into you.
He knew that Jeonghan wanted to see your face when he fucked you and he was unwilling to deprive the other of this pleasure.
Jeonghan finally claimed your mouth with his. His kiss oh so different compared with your other boyfriend but just as hot. Where Seungcheol was wild and rough, Jeonghan was sinful and sensual, a mix that balanced each other so well that you felt like you could cum just thinking about it.
“Ready?” he asked and lined his dick alongside his partners before slowly pushing in. Your head fell back at the sensation of being split open on 2 cocks simultaneously.
You felt Seungcheols hand on your thoat and clenched around them both, causing them to moan loudly at the sensation, making Jeonghan lose his cool and thrust in. The wetness between your legs making it a smooth glide and you almost came on the spot.
“Ah-hh, mommy pl-lease!” you pleaded for them to ruin you.
Neither of the men could hold themselfes back anymore. They started ghrusting with a sense of desperation they hadn’t felt in a while and you reached for something to hold onto while being at their complete mercy for the moment.
They could feel you tightening around them, thrusts growing erratic as all 3 of you hurtled towards your releases.
“Cum for Mommy and Daddy.”
Hearing Seungcheol rasp into your ear was like opening the flood gates. You came hard, followed right by them spilling their seed deep into your pussy while riding out the high.
Drops of sweat had started collecting on your forehead, yet neither of them hesitated to place calming kisses to the skin there as they showered you with praise.
“Did so well, for us. Such a good girl, taking both of us like a champ.”
“You’re finally home…”
Both smiled down at you and Jeonghan sighed in relief. The stress of the last weeks falling of his shoulders.
“Yes, I am.”
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