Tumgik
#I don't think I have ever asked my followers and friends to share before
joelmillerisapunk · 3 days
Text
Divide my legs like a mathematician
Dbf!Joel x virgin!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Masterlist
Wordcount: 4K
Summary: you find yourself drawn to Joel's confidence and charm, unable to resist the forbidden fruit. After sharing an intimate moment by the pool, you're left feeling both guilty and exhilarated, eager for more.
Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, reader has first kiss, age gap (reader is early 20's and Joel is however old you need him to be.) Reader has hair and breasts, and wears a bikini, unprotected p in v, m&f oral receiving, fingering, Joel comes twice. Joel, being a typical middle-aged man, saying "you know.."
Notes: please do not read if this kind of dynamic or situation is offputting or something you do not like or enjoy or object to. Please be responsible for yourself and your fic reading. Love you bye 💝 and don't ask about the title unless you wanna hear and see something weird 😂
Tumblr media
The sun beats down relentlessly, its fiery rays reflecting off the shimmering surface of the pool. You've sought refuge by its side, lying on a vibrant, floral towel, your swimsuit clinging to your skin. Your eyes flutter closed, and you breathe in the scent of chlorine and sunscreen, letting the warmth of the day lull you into a state of peaceful relaxation.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a shadow eclipsing the sun. You squint up, the brightness giving way to the familiar face of Joel Miller, your dad's old buddy. The one you haven't seen in a few years.
His salt-and-pepper hair, flecked with silver, is styled in a casual yet purposeful way. His muscular build is evident through his t-shirt and swim trunks. Joel's eyes, a stunning shade of chocolate brown, crinkle at the corners as he turns his attention to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he asks, his gaze sweeping over your body in a way that makes you feel a bit nervous.
You shield your eyes from the sun with your hand before you reply, "Hey Joel, my dad's not here. He had to run some errands."
Joel chuckles, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, good thing you're here to keep me company while I wait for him.”
You roll your eyes, but you can't help the heat that rises to your face. "I'm not here to entertain you," you say, trying to sound stern.
Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know you've sure grown up since I last saw ya, more beautiful than ever."
You can't help but feel a little flattered by his words, even if you try to hide it. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, but you know that he's off-limits, the forbidden fruit. He's your dad's friend, and he's much older than you. You've never even had a boyfriend, but there's something about him that you find irresistible. Maybe it's his confidence, or his sense of humor, or the way he makes you feel when he looks at you. Whatever it is, you can't help but be drawn to him.
You try to play it cool. "Oh, please, you're just saying that because you feel awkward being alone with me and you're trying to be nice."
"Maybe, maybe not," he admits. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're beautiful."
You feel your heart flutter at the way the word rolls off his tongue, but you try to hide your reaction. "Prove it," you say, challenging him.
Joel raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Prove it?" he repeats. "How do you propose I do that?"
You shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "I dunno, race me to the other side of the pool, maybe?"
Joel's laughter rings out, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he accepts the challenge. "You're on.” With a swift and fluid motion, he peels off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms. The garment lands carelessly on a nearby chair, but you barely notice as your gaze follows the contours of his physique. You notice how broad he is and how beautiful in return you think he is.
Joel dives into the pool, cutting through the water with surprising grace and agility. The splash startles you, breaking your reverie, and you take a deep breath diving into the pool swimming as fast as you can towards the other side of the pool.
The cool water feels refreshing against your skin, but you're determined to win the race. You swim with all your might, your legs kicking furiously behind you. But despite your best efforts, Joel reaches the other side just before you do.
You come up for air, panting slightly, and Joel grins at you. "I win."
You stick your tongue out at him. "Fine, you win," you concede. "But that doesn't mean you're right about me being beautiful."
Joel's expression softens, and he looks at you with a seriousness that takes you by surprise. "You know darlin, I'm not just sayin' it to flatter you," he says as he gets out of the pool and then helps you out. "I've always thought you were beautiful. But now, you're all grown up, and I can't help but notice the way you move, the way you challenge me, it's all so - intoxicating."
His words make you feel self-conscious, but also excited. You've never had anyone talk to you like this before, and it's both scary and thrilling.
Joel notices your reaction and takes a step closer to you. "I know this is unexpected, and maybe even a little inappropriate," he says. "But, I can't help the way I feel. And I think you feel it too, don'tcha darlin?”
"I-I don't know," you stammer.
Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, take your time. I'm not goin’ anywhere." You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You've never felt this way before, and you're not sure what to do. "It's okay," he repeats. "I know it’s a lot to take in.” Joel moves so his body mere inches away from yours. "You ever done anythin' before, you got a boyfriend?”
You pause, feeling the air get tense. You can't believe how abrupt he is to just ask like this. You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed you've never even kissed a boy before, let alone have a boyfriend.
Joel can see the uncertainty in your eyes, but he also sees curiosity and desire. He takes a deep breath, and his eyes never leave yours. "You know, I can teach you how to please a man, how to be pleasured. I wanna make sure that when you do decide to be with someone, you're not so inexperienced."
Your eyes flitter around, never fully meeting Joel's gaze. "I dunno I've never done anything like this before," you admit.
Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. "I know babygirl," he says. "And I'm not going to push you into anything. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you want me to be."
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that what Joel is suggesting is wrong, but you can't help feeling like a snake, trying to convince yourself to take a bite of the juiciest looking apple you’ve ever seen. He's always been so helpful, and now that he's offering to show you the ways of intimacy, you can't help but be tempted. You really don't want to be so inexperienced when it's your real first time. "I want you to teach me Joel," you whisper.
Joel's face lights up, "I promise to make this a learning experience for you, somethin’ you'll never forget."
He takes your hand and leads you to a secluded spot by the pool, sits down on the grass, and pulls you down next to him. "First things first, let's start with the basics. You ever touch yourself?"
You shake your head, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment.
"S'okay," he says. "This is all new to you. Just do what I do, okay?"
He takes your hand and guides it to your bottoms, helping you to slip your fingers under the fabric. You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you gasp as Joel's and your fingers brush against your clit.
"Just relax," he says, his voice soothing. "S’all about pleasure."
As you continue to touch yourself, you can feel something building inside of you. It's a strange, unfamiliar sensation, but it's also incredibly pleasurable. You moan softly as Joel continues to guide your hand, his lips close to your ear.
"That's it," he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. "Just relax and enjoy the sensation." You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you can feel your body tensing as you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. Joel can sense this too, and he places a hand on your belly, feeling each jolt and tremor as it passes through you.
"Just let go, baby," he whispers. "I've got you. You're safe."
But suddenly, you pull your hand away, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"I can't," you say, your voice shaking. "It feels too weird."
Joel can see the look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes, and he pulls you against his chest.
"Yes, you can, I promise," he says, his voice soothing and reassuring. "Just let yourself feel the pleasure. Let me help you, baby. Tell me what you're feeling, baby," he says, his voice gentle and coaxing. "What does it feel like when I touch you like this?" He starts rubbing circles on your clit again.
You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "It feels...good," you say, your voice hesitant. "But it's also scary. I've never done this before."
"I know, baby," Joel coos. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here with you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you."
Joel can see that you need a different approach, something that will help you to relax and let go of your inhibitions.
He pulls away from you, his eyes meeting yours. "Let's try something a little different," he says with a gentle voice. Before you can protest, Joel is moving down your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your skin. When he reaches your thighs he gently guides them further apart, leaving kisses all the way until he reaches your swimsuit bottoms, he pulls them to the side, exposing your clit. You gasp as you feel his tongue flick against your clit, the sensation almost too much to bear.
"Just relax," Joel murmurs, his voice soothing. "Let me show you how good this can feel."
He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers slipping inside of you to stroke your G-spot. You can feel pleasure building inside of you, more intense than anything you've ever felt before.
"Yes, just like that," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go, babygirl. Let yourself feel it."
And suddenly, you do. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, so intense that you can barely breathe. You cry out whatever vowels and constants your brain can, and your body shakes with the force of it. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work their magic. Another orgasm builds inside of you, even more intense than the first. You can feel yourself on the edge, your body trembling with pleasure.
"Come on, babygirl, come again, such a good girl."
And you do. This orgasm tears through you like a lightning bolt, so intense that you see stars behind your closed eyes.
Finally, the orgasm subsides, and you collapse back onto the grass, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel moves beside you, his arms wrapped around you as he holds you close to his body.
"How do you feel?" he murmurs, his lips close to your ear.
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...amazing," you say, quietly.
Joel smiles, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm glad," he says. "That's exactly how I wanted you to feel." Joel's expression is gentle as he looks at you, gauging your reaction. He then reaches down and slowly starts to undo the drawstring of his swim trunks. "You ever seen a cock before?"
You shake your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Joel seems to sense your apprehension, and he takes his time as he pulls down his swim trunks, revealing his erect length. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight before you, the way the sunlight dances off his smooth, taut skin, the way the veins protrude just slightly, creating a roadmap. Your gaze drifts down to the base, where the same salt and peppered hair that graces his head dusts his pelvis. Joel gives you a moment to take it all in before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you wanna touch it?" The question hangs in the air.
You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity. Joel's hand finds yours, guiding it towards his stiffening cock. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. As you wrap your fingers around his shaft, you marvel at the weight and firmness of it in your hand.
"Mmm, that feels so good," Joel moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into your touch.
Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to explore his cock more fully. You stroke your hand up and down its length, feeling it twitch and throb beneath your fingertips. Joel helps guide your movements, his hand covering yours as he shows you the rhythm he likes best.
"Tighten your grip a little... yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his breath hitching as you increase the pressure. Joel's moans become louder and more frequent, and you can feel him grow even harder in your hand. It takes no time at all for Joel to reach his peak.
"Fuck baby, I'm gonna come," Joel gasps, his hips thrusting forward.
You pull your hand away, unsure of what to do. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you. You look like a deer in headlights, and the sight almost makes him come without help. "It's okay, baby," he says with a gentle voice. "You don't have to do anything. Just wanted to give you an idea of what it feels like, what it looks like, what it tastes like," he says softly, "But, if you're curious, I can show you how to pleasure a man with your mouth."
You nod, your curiosity getting the better of you. "I want to, I wanna learn."
Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Okay, just remember to take it slow. There's no rush."
Joel takes your hand and guides it down to his cock, which is already rock-hard and pulsing with desire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you're eager to explore him further. With a gentle nudge, he encourages you to take him into your mouth.
At first, you're hesitant. You've never done this before, and you're not sure what to do. But Joel is patient and kind, gently stroking your hair and murmuring words of encouragement.
"That's it, baby," he whispers. "Just relax and take your time. Mmm, yeah, just like that."
Emboldened by his words, you begin to explore him more fully. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a low moan of pleasure, and you can feel his hips bucking up towards you.
Encouraged you take him deeper into your mouth. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you work him over. Joel's moans grow louder and more frequent. Suddenly, he grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head up and down in a steady rhythm.
"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he gasps, his voice tight with pleasure.
You pull back, letting his cock slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Keep goin’ like you were, just swallow if you can, it's natural."
Joel's eyes flutter closed as he helps guide your head back down to his cock, savoring the feeling of him growing hard in your mouth once more. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in slowly, and begin to move your head in a gentle rhythm. Joel's breathing grows heavy as he lets out a low moan, his fingers finding their way into your hair.
You can feel him tensing up, and then, with a shudder, he comes, filling your mouth with warmth. The taste is strange and unfamiliar, but you swallow, determined to please him. You pull your mouth away from him quickly, probably a little too quickly. "Joel," you say, your voice hesitant as you look over at him, catching his breath. "Can we... do it?"
Joel looks at you, his expression serious. "Do what, babygirl?" he asks, puffing out a response through caught breathes even though he knows what you're asking.
"You know...have sex," you whisper.
Joel's eyes widen, and he looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire. "Baby, I just came," he says, his voice gentle. "Let me catch my breath for a bit, and then we can figure somethin' out."
Joel's eyes meet yours, and he can see the slight hint of disappointment in them. But he understands, and he takes your face gently in his hands, leaning in close so that his mouth is almost touching yours. "Don't worry, babygirl," he says, his voice soft and soothing. "I'll make it worth your while." You can feel your heart flutter at his words, and you can't help but smile. Joel's breathing begins to return to normal, and he pulls back slightly, looking at you with a serious expression. "I think I have a couple of ideas," he says. "But, it's gonna take some effort on both our parts."
You nod, eager to please him and experience more of the pleasure he's shown you.
Joel takes a deep breath, looking at you with a serious expression. "I want you to take your top off."
You look at him in surprise, your hands instinctively going to cover your chest. "What? Why?" You ask, your voice hesitant.
Joel reaches out to take your hands in his, his eyes meeting yours. "Because it's a natural part of a woman's body, and it's one of the things that turns me on the most," he explains. "And I want to be able to pleasure you fully, without any barriers between us."
You bite your lower lip, you've never been naked in front of anyone before, and the thought of doing so with Joel is both terrifying and thrilling. But you trust him, and you want to please him. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head, signaling your agreement. Joel's eyes softened as he smiled, his hands moving to gently guide you onto his lap. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you straddle him, your thighs brushing against his. His fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your bikini top in place, and the fabric falls away, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm summer air. You feel a shiver run down your spine, your nipples hardening in response to the exposure.
Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your bare chest, his breath hitching in his throat.
"Mmm, so perfect baby.” Before you can respond, Joel leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively going to his hair as he sucks and licks at your breast. Joel's hands come up to cup your other breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. You had never felt anything like this before, the sensation of his mouth on your breast, his hands caressing your body. It's intoxicating.
Joel's hands start to wander down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He reaches your bikini bottoms, and you can feel him tugging at the fabric. "Lift up for me, baby,"
You do as he asks, lifting your hips off the ground as he pulls your bikini bottoms down your legs. You're completely naked now, exposed to Joel's gaze, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a thrill run through your body. Joel's eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare body.
"Fuck, babygirl, you are so damn delicious," his hands reach out to touch you. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs, teasing you. "Spread your legs for me, baby, nice and wide," he says, his voice low and commanding.
You comply, spreading your legs apart.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you? I've been dreaming about this for years, imagining what it would be like to touch you, to taste you."
You gasp as Joel's hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. "You're so wet," he growls, his fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me. You think you're ready, baby?"
You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness. Joel moves between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt or hesitation.
"If you want to stop at any time, just tell me," he says. "I won't be upset."
You nod and shyly say, “I'm ready.”
Joel positions himself at your entrance, his tip pressing gently against your opening. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or fear. "Just breathe, babygirl," his voice soothes you a bit. "It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it'll feel good real soon."
You nod, taking a deep breath as Joel starts to push inside of you. You feel a sharp pain as he breaks through your barrier, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. “Ah, Joel, it hurts," you whimper, your eyes watering.
Joel curses under his breath, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "I know, I know, I gotcha.” He continues to move slowly, giving your body time to adjust to the intrusion. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and you can't help but wince at the discomfort. Joel leans down, almost kissing you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. "It's okay, babygirl," he murmurs. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
As he continues to move, the pain starts to fade, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar sensation. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Joel seems to sense your confusion, and he starts to move his hips in a slow, circular motion. "Feel that, babygirl?" he touches your lower belly where you can feel his cock hitting. "That's your body gettin’ used to me. It's gonna feel good soon, I promise."
And he's right. As he continues to move, the sensation begins to shift, becoming something more pleasurable. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to Joel's movements. "That's it, babygirl," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel it. Let yourself feel me."
He starts to move faster, his hips thrusting harder against yours. You think you can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm and Joel can sense it too. "You like that, babygirl? You like feeling my cock inside of you? You like feeling me stretch you open, fill you up?"
You nod, a small whimper coming from the back of your throat.
"Good," he breathes, pushing his hips deeper into yours, the friction making him groan. "Tell me when you're gonna come, sweetheart."
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "I-I'm gonna come," you gasp.
Joel's eyes widen, and he nods, his hips thrusting harder against yours. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Come on my cock."
The orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, so powerful that it feels like every nerve in your body is firing at once. You can't help but cry out, a loud, primal sound that probably alerts everyone in close proximity to what's happening. Your body convulses with pleasure, every muscle tensing and then releasing as waves of ecstasy wash over you.
Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with a fierce urgency as he chases his own release. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each one hot and moist against your ear. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "I'm so close. I'm gonna come too." You can feel him throbbing inside of you, each pulse of his cock sending another shiver of pleasure through your body. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you, wanting to feel every inch of him as he fills you up with his warmth.
And then he's there, his body tensing as he reaches his own peak. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "Oh fuck!" He collapses on top of you, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.
You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. For a moment, neither of you say anything, both of you too caught up in the afterglow of what just happened.
Finally, Joel lifts his head, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Fuck, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice still low and husky. "That was...incredible."
You wrap your arms around him, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," you whisper into his ear as you instinctively start stroking his hair.
Joel looks up at you, "What are you thankin’ me for?"
You feel a mix of embarrassment and shyness. "For showing me how good it can feel."
Joel smiles. "You're welcome, baby girl. I'm glad I could be the one to show you." He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You can feel yourself getting lost in the moment, in the feeling of Joel's lips on yours, in the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
Your first kiss.
But all too soon, the bliss comes to an end. Joel pulls away, his eyes meeting yours. "I better get goin'," he says. "Your dad will be back soon."
You nod, feeling a surge of disappointment. "Okay," you say kinda pouty.
Joel smirks and lifts your chin in his hand so you're looking at him. "Don't look so sad, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "This is just the beginning. I promise to show you so much more."
With that, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and he gets up, putting his swim trunks back on. You watch as he walks away, your heart heavy in your chest. You know that what just happened was wrong, that it's not something that should have happened. But you can't help the way you feel, the way your body responds to Joel's touch. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that you should feel guilty, that you should be ashamed of what just happened. But all you can feel is a sense of excitement, of anticipation. You know that this is just the beginning.
And you can't wait.
574 notes · View notes
thisismeracing · 1 day
Text
More than friends | LH44
―Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader ―Warnings: curse words, mentions of food, and typos; ―Summary: You're friends with Lewis, but fans don't buy the "just friends" discourse - for them, you and Lewis make the most powerful couple, even if you're not famous. And maybe they're right, maybe you're supposed to be more than friends. (based on this request).
Tumblr media
▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
Tumblr media
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by yourbestie, lewishamilton, and others
yourusername went for coffee/reading with the bestie, but of course, we ended up yapping about everything and only reading two sentences 😁
view all comments
angryschumacher they just like me and my bestie except they’re more cute and would make a great couple 👀
grandpierre can you imagine being bestie with lewis freaking hamilton?! 😭
leclerccrown what are you reading, yn?
⤷ yourusername crooked plows by itamar vieira junior! :)
yourbestie can I borrow those shoes for a date this weekend?? 🙏
lewishamilton worst matcha I’ve ever had 🤢
⤷ yourusername youre just not used to the flavors! It was deliciou
⤷ lewishamilton it probably was, but right before you added tons of sugar and what else 🥴
⤷ yourusername shut up 😡
⤷ lewishamilton I just don’t need extra sugar when you’re around, sweetie
⤷ tifosikimi am I sensing some flirting? 👁️🫦👁️
⤷ tiredtyres tifosikimi I don’t think so, me and my bestie banter like this but we consider each other siblings
harrietdirection her hair is so shiny, her skin is so glowy, she’s so humble and simple and sweet and pretty can lewis share her with the fandom pls
lewishamilton
Tumblr media
liked by georgerussell63, dualipa, and others
lewishamilton recharging for next weekend 💛
view all comments
likedbypierregasly this looks like such a romantic dump, the kind of dump one would post with…I dunno…their girlfriend 👀
biebertsunoda I wanna be her so bad
yourusername 💛
⤷ keepingupwf1 yeah bestie Im at a loss of words too
mickschumacher Angie is questioning me about play dates with roscoe!!
⤷ roscoelovescoco 😍 Is miss Angies too
⤷ yourusername how about tomorrow before media duty??
⤷ mickschumacher sounds great! 🤝
⤷ zhoulovers she’s roscoe’s mom, change my mind
elitebarzal oh to spend a weekend recharging beside lewis and roscoe 😭
zendaya 😍😍😍
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by lilymhe, lewisfan, and others
yourusername productive Friday at work 🤓
view all comments
redsainz who choose these boots? I bet it was lewis
oconnected they're so powerful together, you can see bits and bits of the other in them 🩷
mickschumacher glad you enjoyed the haribo! 😌
⤷ yourusername my new fav candy!!! 😌
lewishamilton nice fit 😏
⤷ yourusername you like it? a friend set it up for me 😎
⤷ redsainz told you guys he was to one to piece it together!!!!
bonosmicrophone its the way mick, lily, alex, george, and so on constantly interact with her 🥹🥹
dollarsainz lewishamilton can I date her?
⤷ lewishamilton nah, she’s already taken
⤷ leclerccar WHAT?,mKVNWNCJSJJCJSD
Tumblr media
lewishamilton & yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others
lewishamilton guess we were always meant to be more ❤️
view all comments
yourusername fitting together like the perfect pair of legos 💘 you're forever my best friend, I love you
⤷ lewishamilton I love you forever
⤷ schumickey 😭forever😭my😭best😭friend😭
rizzhou most powerful paddock couple!
yukiyukiyuki everything about these pics gives wholesome heartdly in love vibe 🥹
charles_leclerc finally, guys!!!!! ❤️
georgerussell63 it was about time!
alex_albon lily is asking for another double date (please Yn don’t steal my girl 😭)
⤷ lilymhe too late, babes 😁
mercedesamgf1 😍😍 we’be been rooting for this since the beginning!
⤷ formulainchident even admin!!!!
scuderiaferrari Yn, we already have your special headphones and shirt ready! 🫵❤️
norrisrizz I want what they have, I wanna be her, I wanna be him, I wanna be their dog, I-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! :D as usual, reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated. don't forget to let me know your thoughts!
If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘
▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.
taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27
©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.
― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
424 notes · View notes
fox-bright · 2 years
Text
This meme is a MURDER ATTEMPT.
Tumblr media
I am absolutely fucking serious. The original meme, without the big red denial, is someone's attempt to fucking kill people.
There is NO SAFE DOSAGE of pennyroyal oil. Even Mother Earth News says there's no reason to use pennyroyal essential oil for ANYTHING, even topically or as a fragrance, for fuckssake! That should give you some idea about how dangerous it is!
Pennyroyal tea, plant matter in hot water, is a traditional abortifacient. It is *incredibly* dangerous, induces abortion by bringing the body close to organ failure (and frequently pushing the system right over the edge, because dosage is impossible to meter), but I would drink a gallon of it before I took a half-teaspoon of pennyroyal essential oil.
Two teaspoons, taken across 48 hours, has successfully killed someone.
Three teaspoons taken as a single dosage killed the consumer within THREE HOURS.
There is NO SAFE DOSAGE! FOR PENNYROYAL OIL INTERNALLY! NONE!
The person who made this meme is PURPOSEFULLY, ACTIVELY, trying to get desperate people killed!
53K notes · View notes
gotham-daydreams · 7 months
Text
Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd part here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
3K notes · View notes
Text
he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.
Tumblr media
jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).
since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.
when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.
it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.
it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.
but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.
"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.
and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"
his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?
understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."
he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"
how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?
"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.
he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."
and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.
"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.
you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.
"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"
your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.
his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."
you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.
"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.
"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"
despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.
"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."
his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."
that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.
at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.
but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.
and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"
your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"
her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."
you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."
your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"
you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.
"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"
"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.
"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.
"being forgotten?" your friend asked.
"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.
"you look like you have someone in mind."
a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.
"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.
you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.
"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.
"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."
and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.
you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.
his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"
you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.
"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"
he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.
the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.
you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"
from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.
one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.
"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."
"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.
"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."
you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."
"we miss you so much. see you soon?"
you agreed, thanked her for her help.
"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."
having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.
"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.
"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."
the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.
very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.
you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.
they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."
"what if he's not interested?"
"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."
"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"
your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"
so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.
when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.
you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.
you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.
you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.
a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.
a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.
your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.
you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.
you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.
the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.
"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.
"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"
your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."
you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.
he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"
you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.
during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.
"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.
the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.
even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.
with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.
the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?
"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.
jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.
his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."
with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.
"have a game, sugar, here we go."
you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.
bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.
jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.
his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.
for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.
"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.
you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.
"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.
you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?
"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.
you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"
without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.
on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.
"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.
"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.
you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.
everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.
so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?
you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.
his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."
"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."
he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."
you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.
you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.
you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.
his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.
the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.
surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.
you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.
the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.
he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.
you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.
"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.
he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"
you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.
the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.
one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.
"alright," you chastised.
"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."
your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.
"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.
"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."
you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.
pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.
you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.
and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?
i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.
careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?
your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.
but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.
the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.
a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.
"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.
"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.
he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."
the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.
"what?" he said, grinning.
you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."
and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.
he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.
what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.
"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.
his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.
you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.
that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.
and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"
and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.
you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.
"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.
and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.
maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.
"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.
"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."
you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.
and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.
too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.
"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.
so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.
your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.
a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.
"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.
it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.
he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."
you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.
"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.
you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.
and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.
you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.
jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"
you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."
his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.
you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"
"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.
he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.
you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.
when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.
"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.
you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.
but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.
as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.
"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.
deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.
and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.
after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.
later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.
after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.
kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.
he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.
his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.
when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.
he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.
you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.
"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.
you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.
you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.
but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.
you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.
the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.
while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.
then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.
you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.
walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.
"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.
his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.
you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.
this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.
"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.
"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.
"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.
he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.
he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.
he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.
you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.
he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.
you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."
you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.
he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.
he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.
"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.
one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.
he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."
"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.
jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."
when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.
"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.
you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.
luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.
you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.
most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.
"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.
the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.
walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.
"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.
he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.
you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.
jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.
something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.
"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.
you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.
"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.
"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.
you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"
he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.
would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?
the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.
a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.
jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.
"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.
your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.
you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.
the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.
you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."
he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.
as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?
the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.
you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.
it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.
you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.
you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.
"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."
later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.
but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.
"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.
"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.
"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.
you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.
he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.
you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.
"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.
"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.
you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.
staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.
he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.
you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.
"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."
you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."
never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."
he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.
"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."
the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.
his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"
you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.
"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"
you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.
he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.
everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.
you should have known it wouldn't last long.
a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.
something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.
maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.
and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.
and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.
a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?
it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.
but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.
and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.
it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.
so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.
still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.
the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.
at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.
"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.
he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."
and that had been the end of that.
so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.
you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.
you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.
"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."
you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.
"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.
he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"
you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."
seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.
and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.
every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.
he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.
he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.
when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.
"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.
when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.
how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?
jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.
you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.
you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.
of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.
until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.
you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.
the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.
the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.
like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.
slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.
it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.
because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.
finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.
in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.
waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.
you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.
"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.
you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.
"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.
you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.
auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."
and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.
the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.
time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.
you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.
you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."
for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.
you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.
you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.
for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.
"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.
you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.
he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"
you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.
"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."
you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.
you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.
"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.
"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.
"yes."
"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.
you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."
there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."
you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."
he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."
you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."
he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.
so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.
he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.
and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.
"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."
he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.
you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."
in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.
when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."
it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.
"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.
you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.
"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.
and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.
it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.
he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.
"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.
"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."
you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.
you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.
you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.
you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.
you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.
"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."
there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.
he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.
that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.
"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.
fin.
1K notes · View notes
Text
People Watching - Lando Norris
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader
⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have
⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]
⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
Tumblr media
You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 
“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.
“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 
Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 
“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 
You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 
“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 
“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 
“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 
You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 
After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.
“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”
You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”
“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 
“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 
“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”
The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.
The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.
At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.
The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.
However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.
Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.
With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.
Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.
“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”
“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”
“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 
He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 
“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 
Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 
As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.
There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.
Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.
Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.
"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."
You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."
He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."
You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."
"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.
You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."
Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"
"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 
He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"
You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."
"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 
"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.
As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.
And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.
Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.
A thought strikes you down.
Do you love Lando?
Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.
An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 
Does Lando love you?
Tumblr media
⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3
hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem
You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 
“You okay?” 
Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 
“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 
You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 
“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 
You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 
“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 
“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 
Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 
You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 
Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 
“You okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 
“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 
“That's not okay.” 
“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 
“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.
It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 
“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 
“I worry about you, too.” 
“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 
“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 
“But silly not to,” he adds. 
“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 
“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 
“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 
Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  
“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 
You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 
“Is it really that scary?” 
“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 
You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 
Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 
You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 
You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 
“I'm sorry for coming here.” 
Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 
Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 
Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 
He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 
Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 
“What? Why?” 
“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 
You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 
“Watch me.” 
You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 
774 notes · View notes
thef1diary · 9 days
Text
Little Big Fan | Thirteen
— Little Big Sleepover
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
wc: 2k
Isabella ran to her room, her eyes welling up with tears, leaving you and Max bewildered. With widened eyes, you glanced at Max, wondering where you went wrong.
You had simply told her, with what you thought was proper precautions, that you and Max were together. Isabella looked between you and Max for a single second before shaking her head and leaving the room. 
You didn't think twice before following her, finding her cuddling her second favourite teddy bear as tears stained her cheeks. "Oh, angel" you muttered as you sat beside her on her bed. 
"Talk to me, sweetheart, do you not like Max?" you prompted. Isabella glanced up at you for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, she did it to check if you were upset with her before she could form a response but once she only saw comfort, she opened up about the situation. 
"He's a good friend," she started and you nodded along but remained silent. "But will you still love me if you like him?" Hearing her words, your heart broke. You wanted to know what prompted her to ask such a serious question, but you focused on addressing it first.
"I have loved you from the day you were born," you began, deciding to hold back on sharing the information that you even loved her while you were pregnant, mainly because you didn't want to start a new set of questions relating to pregnancy just yet. "I love you, Isabella, and my relationship with Max won't ever change that."  
Isabella decided that the comfort she received from the teddy bear wasn't enough, so she gently placed it to the side before crawling up into your lap. "Are you still going to spend time with me? Because daddy stopped doing that." 
Her question helped you see where her unease of your relationship with Max came from. "Daddy was busy with work, it wasn't because of a relationship, Bella." You didn't want her to believe Emma was the source of the problem, even if she had broken up with Tyler. 
Isabella's mouth dropped open, slowly understanding the situation but then she pouted, "daddy's always busy with work." 
"He's trying his best," you didn't want to influence a negative father-daughter relationship between them with your words, even though you wanted to agree with her. Plus you hoped that Tyler would clean up his act and become a present father. However, lately that hope has started to die down. 
"It's okay, Maxy spends time with me," Isabella added and you faintly smiled at the slight positive turn the conversation took. "Yes he does, did you know he's inviting us to the next race?" 
That sparked a happier reaction out of your daughter, "really?" You nodded, "yeah, do you want to go?" While she was buzzing with excitement at the idea of going to another race, you also noticed her hesitation to give you an answer. "You don't have to tell me now, think about it okay?" 
Isabella smiled, pleased that you understood her better than she did herself. Wrapping her arms around you, she mumbled, "okay, mama." 
You hugged her a little tighter than you usually do. "I promise nothing will change between us, it's just that mama likes Maxy a lot and wants to be with him too," you explained and felt her nod against you. 
You didn't let go until she did first, and she looked at you with a mix of confusion and mischief, "so like the three of us together?" Wiping away her drying tears, you were surprised by the significant change in her mood but was also glad that she was no longer crying. 
"Yes, what do you think?" You prompted again, back to square one but this time you received a much more positive reaction. "Mama, Maxy, and me, I like that." 
Then she giggled, "Maxy, you can come in now," she spoke, looking at the door that was left ajar. Hearing her words, Max entered her room with a tightlipped smile, not liking the fact that he was caught. 
"I didn't mean to stand there, I was just worried about you." Although he entered the room, he still stood by the door. He heard your entire conversation and knew that Isabella would be fine with your relationship, but she just needed time to adjust. However, he was still wary on her opinion of him. 
Isabella wiggled off your lap and stepped closer to Max. She gestured with her hand, asking him crouch down so she could be at eye-level with him. "My mama likes you, do you like her?" 
"I like her a lot," he answered after a split second of hesitation because he was about to say the wrong L word, but he didn't want to overwhelm Isabella, or you for that matter. Even though deep down he knew you returned the sentiment, it just wasn't said out loud yet. 
He knew that you would prefer to know Isabella's thoughts on your relationship before it goes any further, and he was totally okay with that. 
"Are you going to take car of her?" Isabella asked with her hands on her hips, attempting to look slightly intimidating. Max didn't have the strength to tell her that she looked more cute than intimidating. "Always."
Dropping her "intimidating" stance, she smiled and glanced at both of you. "Then, I'm okay." While Isabella's gaze remained on Max, his was on you and he noticed as you let out a sigh in relief. 
Shuffling closer to Max, Isabella hugged him just like she usually did and that's when Max could finally let out a sigh of relief. She turned to look at you, "can I go play?" 
"Of course, sweetheart." You waited until she left the room to invite Max to sit next to you, which he obliged to immediately. His hand quickly found your thigh, an action that brought comfort to both of you. "We still need to be careful around her," you stated, and turned your head to look at him. 
"Yeah, that's okay, we'll give her time," he agreed and then he asked a question that has been bothering him for a while. "Would you have ended our relationship if she wasn't okay with it?" 
"I'm going to be very honest, I didn't even think of that as a possibility." The corner of his lip turned up in a half smile, "so you knew everything would be fine?" 
You shook your head, "Deep down I knew that she was comfortable around you but I also didn't really want to think about leaving you if she wasn't. I wanted the best of both worlds." 
Leaning closer to you, he muttered, "I would've done anything to convince Isabella." You happily smiled at that thought, now knowing that day wouldn't come. "Well now that she knows, it would be very hard for you to leave us." 
Max pulled back, "who said I wanted to?" You shrugged, "I'm just putting the thought out there." 
He leaned back against the mattress, and pulled you with him. "I want you and your daughter in my life, for every moment." He brought your hand up to place a light kiss, "knowing that, are you sure you won't get tired of me?" He asked you. 
"Not at all," you said as you leaned over him to place a lingering sweet kiss against his lips. You both showed your love in various ways even though you didn't say the three words out loud. Whether it was through small acts you did together throughout the day, other long conversations, or something like this, where you subtly promised to be together forever.
——
Later that night, Isabella was still very excited that Max was staying over. As you promised earlier, she noticed that nothing drastically changed after knowing about your relationship with Max. 
He was still undoubtedly kind to her, always agreeing to play with her even if that meant he had to purposely lose in the videogame over and over again just to see the biggest smile on her face. 
Even though you and Max had decided not to show too much affection around your daughter until she got used to seeing you two together, there were still the occasional stolen kisses and touches.
Especially when you two prepared dinner together—that is, until Isabella chose to accompany you both. Max suggested that she take a seat on the countertop so that she could see everything well. As you carried on cooking, you observed that Max was often sidetracked and would frequently stop what he was doing to indulge in a conversation with Isabella. 
The moments in front of you reminded you of a conversation you had with Max before you began dating. You had told him that your daughter would always be a top priority in your life, and if he didn't agree, you couldn't date him. You expected him to walk away, but he persuaded you that he wanted you both in his life. 
You smiled, relieved that you believed him since you were seeing the truth of his words in front of you as he willingly spent time with your daughter.  
Once you cleaned up after dinner, Isabella convinced Max to continue playing videogames. It was getting quite late into the night, but he couldn't exactly say no to her either, so they decided to play once more.
"No Maxy!" Isabella exclaimed with a laugh when he finally regained the upper hand and won the game, the last one of the night. 
"C'mon, time for bed now." You watched the back and forth conversation between them, especially at how Isabella tried to pout to convince him for another game. However, Max wasn't convinced this time. "Didn't you say you wanted me to read you a bedtime story?" 
"Yes, but I also want to play," Isabella confused herself, unable to choose one of the two options. "You can play tomorrow too," you suggested and she looked at him, "will you be here tomorrow?"
Once he nodded, she was satisfied. Isabella quickly helped clean up and rushed up the stairs with you and Max following behind. 
Max watched as you helped Isabella complete her nighttime routine, and she even commented that after some time, she wouldn't need any help. "You're growing up so fast," you responded. 
Soon enough Isabella was tucked into bed with the blanket up to her shoulders while Max read her a short story from one of her books. You let them enjoy that moment, and took that time to unwind from the day in your bedroom as well. 
Max returned while you were in the middle of your skincare routine, "is she sleeping?" you asked. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "She's snoring away," he responded, earning a chuckle from you. 
He watched you through the mirror patiently as you applied a few different products, raising his eyebrow in confusion when he didn't understand what it was. "What is that?" He couldn't help but ask. "A serum." 
Your answer didn't dissipate his confusion, and you laughed once you saw his expression. "Let's go to bed," you suggested once you finished up. 
The truth is, the idea of Max staying over was new to Isabella, but she had no idea that he has stayed over quite a few times. "I think I can finally sleep in as long as I want," Max commented once you two were settled in bed. 
"Well now she knows," you pressed a kiss to his cheek before cuddling closer. 
Every time Max had stayed the night, he would have to leave early in the morning to ensure that Isabella wouldn't see him. It wasn't a big deal because he was welcomed back a few hours later anyhow, but Max didn't get an opportunity to properly wake up next to you either. 
This time, he was looking forward to waking up next to you, knowing that it would be the first morning out of many more to come.
Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago
649 notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
Text
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
ko-fi ao3
Tumblr media
⭐️ - personal favorite
❤️‍🔥 - smut
🩷 - fluff
🖤 - angst
⭐️❤️‍🔥Jersey - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected. (3.2k)
⭐️❤️‍🔥Push Him - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR Manager! Reader
When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you. (6.8k.)
⭐️❤️‍🔥Stay quiet for me - Modern! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky fucks you while your parents sleep in the next room. (1.6k)
❤️‍🔥Little games - Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends. (1.4k)
🩷Sandcastles - CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy. (1.6k)
❤️‍🔥 New purchase - Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures. (2.3k)
⭐️❤️‍🔥 Firewood - Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help. (4.8k)
🩷 I can't let you get hurt - Brother's best friend! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend. (3.3k)
❤️‍🔥 Don't hide - Mechanic! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Somehow you ended up in a storage room with one of your dad's mechanics. (1.8k)
🩷 My everything - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before. (6.8k)
⭐️🩷Personal pillow - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft. (1.6k)
⭐️🩷 I trust you - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help. (3.5k)
⭐️🩷 You deserve the world - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You were in a relationship with a man who had never truly cared about you, but after catching him cheating on you at a friend's party, you eventually decided to end things with him. The good news was that there was always someone who wasn't going to let you go through it alone. (4.6k)
🩷 Barbie - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts. (1.3k)
❤️‍🔥 Wakanda - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader
You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out. (2.7k)
Requests
We could've done it earlier - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When one of the new recruits started following you around and being too persistent, Bucky decided to help you by kissing you right in front of that guy. Though he didn't realize that he wouldn't be able to stop. (2.3k)
Night - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You wandered around the Tower at night because you couldn't sleep. In the common room, you find Bucky sitting in the dark and decide to share an ice cream pint with him.
Snowman - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When the first snow of the year had just covered the whole of New York City, you tried to convince Bucky to play outside with you. He couldn't find the power in himself to say no to you, even if it's his least favorite time of the year.
1K notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 15 days
Text
|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute
|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention
Tumblr media
"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."
Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."
You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."
Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"
"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?
Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."
The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"
"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."
You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"
"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"
And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.
Tumblr media
Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.
"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.
"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.
"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.
"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"
You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.
"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.
Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."
Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."
You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"
"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.
Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."
You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"
Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."
"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"
Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"
You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.
Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."
833 notes · View notes
kaisacobra · 2 months
Text
Let You Go - Tara Carpenter
Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.
Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst
Word Count: 7.9k
a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!
third part of Second Best
Tumblr media
It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?
She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.
Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.
The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.
The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.
"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.
"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"
The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"
"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"
Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"
"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"
She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.
"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"
I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.
"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.
Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"
Broken, she wanted to say.
The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."
"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.
"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"
As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.
She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.
Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.
She was going to change. She had to change. For you.
_
"That was pretty good!"
The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.
"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.
That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.
It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."
"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.
You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.
It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.
Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?
Best Twin: Sam misses you
Best Twin: We all do
You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.
Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.
It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.
But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.
"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.
Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.
At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.
But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.
You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.
They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.
"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"
Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."
"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."
As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.
"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."
You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."
"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."
There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.
If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.
So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.
_
Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.
Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.
But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.
She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.
Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.
Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.
In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.
When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.
The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"
Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.
But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.
"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.
You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."
Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.
"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."
"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.
Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.
But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.
"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.
You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."
Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."
"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."
"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"
Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."
"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"
"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"
Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."
"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."
Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."
"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.
You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.
She wondered if that's what you two were now.
The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.
"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.
"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.
The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."
Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."
It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.
The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."
Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"
"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."
"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."
"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."
There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.
Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.
It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.
And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...
Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.
_
The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.
The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.
You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."
You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"
"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.
"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.
You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."
Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."
"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.
"Of course, I care, I love you!"
"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"
"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"
"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"
"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"
"Tara..."
"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"
"Tara..."
"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."
"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.
Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.
You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.
She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"
A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"
She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"
"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.
She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"
"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"
At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.
You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.
"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.
"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.
"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.
You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.
And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.
The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.
You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.
"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.
The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."
With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.
She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.
Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.
She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.
Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.
Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.
If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.
---
Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.
There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.
For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.
She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.
After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.
It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.
Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.
That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.
"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."
"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."
This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"
"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."
"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.
"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."
The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.
They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.
Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.
But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.
And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.
"Tara, who-"
"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.
"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.
"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.
"Tara..."
"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."
Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.
Someone much better than her.
Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.
For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...
Now it was time to let you go.
674 notes · View notes
Note
ok im an absolute sucker for the “only one bed” trope, so….
could i please request a reader x ethan fic where there has already been a lot of mutual pining (maybe they were childhood best friends that have had feelings for the longest time ✋😩) and the final straw to all that sexual tension is possibly there being an argument or some angst and then having to share that room, being in such close proximity. Ends in smut please (been loving the switch!ethan btw)!
please and thank you 😩🙏
Jesus, this is a long one and I'm SO SORRY if that isn't what you wanted. I've literally tried to rewrite this 3 times but I had to build up the little angsty moments and all that stuff.
The Best Thing - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You and your friends go to a cabin for a week-long summer vacation. When plans change and you overhear that Ethan's upset about sharing a bed with you, it causes some issues in your friendship.
Contains: fluff, mutual-pining, angst, oral - both m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected-ish sex(reader's on birth control and pull out game is strong), kinda-rough sex, dom-ish Ethan. idk where the fuck I was going with this🥴
A/N: I'd like to apologize to those of you that like to read my stuff but don't like them to be super long. This is 7.6k words, so my bad🙃
Tumblr media
For summer break, you and your friends decided to take a trip to the mountains, wanting fresh air and a calm environment in comparison to the current busy city you were in. After weeks of looking into cabins, you went with a cute 3-bedroom with a hot tub on the balcony that had a perfect view of the mountain line.
You were surprised that Sam was okay with Tara going without her, but the anxiety was apparent on the older sister’s face as she walked out of her bedroom in her pajamas carrying a taser in one hand and pepper spray in the other.
“I don’t like that you’re going without me, but I’ll feel a little better if you take these,” Sam said, dropping them into Tara’s purse.
“We’re just six teenagers going to the mountains to relax. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tara asked, as Mindy and Anika walked in.
“Have you ever watched a horror movie?” Mindy questioned, making Sam roll her eyes at the comment before looking back to Tara.
“You aren’t helping, Mindy,” Tara said, before directing her attention to Sam. “We’ll be safe, I promise.”
“You won’t have cell service up there…Fuck, please just find a way to call me every now and then so I know you’re okay,” Sam said, the stress obvious in her voice. “Please remind her,” she said to you, as she started to head back to her room.
“I will,” you promised, as Sam looked back to you and nodded.
After Sam closed her bedroom door, Tara started to whisper-yell at Mindy.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Mindy sighed, “The guys are outside by the way.” You soon heard the front door open, and listened to Ethan’s groggy voice as he complained about having to get up at six in the morning. “Well, they were outside.”
“Are you guys coming? We need to stop for coffee, or energy drinks. I don’t care, I just need caffeine,” Chad said, before glancing at you and Tara’s bags on the ground. “You know we’re only going for a week, right?”
“Hey, it’s not that much stuff,” she smiled, walking over to kiss him. “We were hoping you two wouldn’t mind helping us carry our bags down.”
“Anything for you, babe,” Chad said, as Mindy made a fake-gag noise.
“Don’t act like you and Anika aren’t going to be acting all sweet and shit with each other,” you laughed, looking towards Ethan, “We are the fifth and sixth wheels on this trip.”
“As long as have you so I won’t be bored, that’s all that matters,” Ethan said, a sleepy smile playing on his lips. “I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Thanks,” you said, as he lifted your bag and walked towards the door.
You grabbed your pillow and blanket off the couch before you followed him, desperate to squeeze in a few more hours of sleep on the drive. Fortunately, Chad’s SUV had third-row seating, so you didn’t have to take two separate cars. You decided the back row was the perfect place for you as Ethan loaded your stuff. He crawled in the back with you, waiting for the rest of your friends to come down.
“Are you sleepy?” he asked, as you laid your pillow against the back window and snuggled up.
“Mhm,” you responded, as he started to laugh.
“Chad made this obnoxious road trip playlist. You’re not going to be getting any sleep.”
“Fuck,” you sighed, “I guess I can nap when we get there.”
“Yeah, like you won’t be wired after the coffee,” Ethan said, his knowing smile making you roll your eyes.
You’d been friends with Ethan since you were toddlers. He knew you better than anyone else, and it could get a little annoying at times. He always seemed to know what your exact reaction would be to everything. He knew all your secrets, and you knew all of his. Well, almost all of them. He’d had feelings for you for years, but the possibility of rejection and damage to the friendship has helped him keep that secret tucked away.
“Hey,” Anika smiled as she crawled in the second row as you and Ethan gave a small wave. Mindy slid in beside her, as Chad struggled to load Tara’s stuff in the back with everyone else’s.
“Seriously, babe. Why do you need all of this?” he huffed, adjusting the bags that were already put away like some complicated game of Tetris.
“You never know when you might need extra clothes,” Tara laughed, leaving him to figure it out.
“Ethan, can I put one of these bags back there with you guys?” Chad asked, after a few minutes of him trying to make everything fit.
“Yeah,” he responded, before looking over to you. “It looks like we’ll be really close on this five-hour drive.”
“I could just sit on your lap,” you suggested, as his eyes went wide. “I’m kidding, Ethan.”
He almost wished you weren’t kidding, wanting to be as close to you as he possibly could. Your random little sweet touches here and there had him constantly craving more, constantly craving you.
Chad passed Mindy the extra suitcase, then she struggled to pass it back to Ethan. He took it from her, the space it was taking up making him scoot even closer to you.
“Sorry,” he said, “I can always move up to Mindy and Anika’s row if you need the space.”
“Then who’s going to show me memes on the way there?” you asked, as he slid his phone out of his pocket.
“I saved so many good ones to show you.”
Once you hit the road, Chad wanted to stop by Starbucks. He planned to go through the drive thru, but after Tara mentioned how complicated and potentially messy it would be to pass coffee back to everyone in his spotless car, he decided to park so everyone could go in.
After you ordered and were about to pay for your stuff, Ethan pulled his card out.
“I got it,” he said, putting his card into the reader.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you smiled, “You don’t want anything?”
“I don’t need to. I’ll just steal sips of whatever the iced or frozen thing you ordered,” he said, as the barista handed you a cake pop. “You’re eating that for breakfast?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said, like it was the most obvious answer.
“I think I’m hungry, too. Maybe I should order something,” he said, glancing at the menu.
You held your cake pop closer to him as he smiled and took a bite. You giggled at the crumbs on his bottom lip as he chewed, reaching up to wipe them off with your thumb. The sweet action made his eyes flutter, but he tried to play it off.
“This is so good,” he said, “I’m sorry for judging your breakfast choice.”
“Just make out already,” Mindy said, smirking at the two of you.
“What, I can’t share with my best friend?” you asked, grabbing your drink off the counter as your name was called.
“Best friend my ass,” she said, as she noticed Ethan’s cheeks start to turn pink. “You just wiped his mouth for him. That isn’t really a friend thing.”
“It is for us,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink.
Ethan was getting uncomfortable under Mindy’s knowing gaze. It was almost like she had the ability in that moment to read his mind and know how he actually felt. He quickly tried to change the subject.
“So, what are we going to do while we’re up there?” he asked, you and Mindy both responding “Relax” at the same time.
“Is that it? You guys don’t want to explore or anything?”
You started to shake your head, “Between the bears, snakes, and whatever the fuck else is out there…I don’t think so.”
“I’d protect you,” he smiled, playfully wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You know I’ve been going to the gym with Chad, I think I could take on a bear.”
“For someone that’s so smart, your common sense isn’t really there, is it?” Mindy asked, making you laugh.
“You guys are mean. I’m going to the car,” Ethan said, snatching your drink out of your hand before walking away.
“Hey!” you said, chasing after him.
The rest of the friend group walked up to Mindy, watching you try to take your coffee back from Ethan as you walked out.
“I think this vacation is about to be interesting,” Anika said, as Tara started to smile.
“I hope so. You remember the Halloween party where she drank a little too much? She told me she’s had the biggest crush on him for years,” she said, as Chad started to freak out.
“What?! Why didn’t you ever tell me she said that? He thinks he’s in the friend zone.”
“He’s definitely not. They’re practically already together,” Tara shook her head as she laughed, grabbing her drink off the counter. “Don’t say anything, though. Let them figure it out.”
Chad nodded, as the rest of the drinks were called out, “Let’s hit the road.”
After a couple hours of driving, you started to tune out the music, and felt like you could take a short nap. The coffee wasn’t helping as much as you expected it to, probably because Ethan drank half of it. You struggled to get comfortable against the window, until Ethan finally spoke up.
“You could always lay on me, if you want to,” he suggested, as you sleepily turned your body and snuggled up against him. Your head rested against his chest as he slouched in the seat, trying to make you more comfortable. He had a sweet smile on his lips as he looked down at you, studying your peaceful face as you slept.
His smile dropped when he noticed Mindy and Anika had turned around, looking at him questioningly. He held his finger up to his mouth, not wanting them to say anything to wake you up.
It didn’t matter though, because when Chad started to play ‘Life Is a Highway’ for the third time in the drive, you stirred awake and pulled away from Ethan.
“Chad, I swear if you don’t change that song, I’ll throw your phone out the window,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“Someone’s grumpy,” he said, changing the song. “Hey guys, were stopping at the next exit.”
He soon pulled into the gas station, and everyone started to pile out of the car. Before you could walk into the store, a number Tara didn’t recognize popped up on the screen.
“Hello?” she asked, before she started to smile. “Oh, hey. Yeah, we’ll be there soon…wait, what happened?”
You exchanged glances with everyone, unsure of what was going on.
“Does that one still have a good view? And all the things the other cabin had?”
Chad started to shake his head, realizing that the vacation wasn’t going to go as expected. When Tara hung up, all eyes were on her as they waited for her to say what was going on.
“Okay, uh, the cabin we were supposed to stay in got trashed by last night’s guests. The only cabin they had left has three rooms, but they all have one bed.”
Ethan’s heart started to thump in his chest as he listened to her speak. As much as he wanted to share a bed with you, and wanted to be close to you, it was hard for him to hold back, especially when you liked to sleep in the shortest pajama shorts that the bottom of your ass would hang out of. Sometimes he felt like you knew you had the effect on him, the teasing seeming almost intentional at times.
“You okay?” you asked, as he still stood there, deep in thought as the rest of your friends had started to walk away.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he smiled, “Let’s get some snacks.”
Ethan walked towards Chad once you made it inside, and you noticed that he was stressed. You tried to listen but couldn’t really hear anything at first. Then Ethan started to speak a little louder, “I can’t sleep with her. We have to figure something else out. It’d be torture to share a bed with her.” Chad suggested that one of you sleep on the couch, and at that point, you were starting to feel a little hurt. The thoughts of ‘Do I make him uncomfortable?’ and ‘Why can’t he just talk to me about it instead of Chad?’ floating around your head.
You went to Tara, Mindy, and Anika as they grabbed their snacks for the rest of the drive.
“Do you guys mind if I sit with you the rest of the way there?” you asked Mindy, as a confused expression appeared on all of their faces. “I think I’m annoying Ethan.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Anika said, “But I highly doubt you are.”
“Then why was he just talking to Chad about not wanting to sleep in the same bed with me?”
Tara glanced over to the two boys as Mindy shrugged, “That’s a little weird…but once we get there, you should ask him about it.”
You nodded, before heading to the counter to pay for your stuff. You weren’t sure what Ethan’s problem was. He was okay with you snuggling up to him in the car, but the idea of him sharing a king-sized bed with you was something he didn’t want to do.
When you made it back to the car, Ethan got in first. He was confused when you sat in the second row with Mindy and Anika.
“You’re just going to leave me back here by myself?” he joked, but he was a little sad about it.
“Yeah, girl talk.”
He nodded at your short response, relaxing back into the seat and putting his seatbelt on. Chad gave him a look in the rearview mirror once he noticed the new seating arrangement. Ethan just shrugged, not knowing what was going on.
Chad leaned over to Tara and started to whisper, “What’s their deal?”
“She heard Ethan say he didn’t want to share a bed with her,” she whispered back, as Chad pulled away and sighed.
“You sure we can’t just…I don’t know, interfere a little?” he asked, as Tara shook her head.
“They need to figure it out on their own,” she said, glancing back to you.
“Okay, no more stops. We’ll be there in a little over two hours,” Chad announced, as he pulled back out onto the road.
You could feel Ethan’s eyes on the back of your head as you talked with Mindy and Anika. You felt bad for being a little cold to him, but your feelings were hurt. It’s not something he expected you to hear, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he felt all the time whenever you’d be too close. But if that was the case, why would he suggest that you could sleep on him earlier?
Once you made it to the cabin and everyone started to get out, you looked around as you stretched. You saw another cabin off in the distance but couldn’t see a whole lot from where you were standing other than the trees. When you walked inside, your jaw dropped at the panoramic view out of the huge windows that lined the side of the cabin.
“This is gorgeous!” you said, walking over to the door that led to the deck. It was huge, stretching along the side of the house. There was a table, some rocking chairs, and a hot tub on the end of it.
“Too bad we have to hunt for our own food,” Chad said, as you looked over at him, “Just kidding. There’s a small grocery store not far from here. After we get all the stuff unloaded, we’re going to get what we need.”
Tara soon walked in, standing beside Chad as he put his arm around her.
“Are you mad at Ethan?” she asked, as you shook your head, not wanting to go into detail in front of Chad. “He seemed a little upset.”
“I guess I better go talk to him,” you groaned. You searched the house, seeing Mindy and Anika, but no Ethan. You finally looked outside to see him leaning against the car. He was deep in thought as you walked up to him.
“You should see the view. It’s beautiful,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts as he looked at you.
“It’s kind of hard to even care about that when my best friend is mad at me,” he said, looking back down to the ground.
“I’m not mad,” you said, the cheeriness of your voice sounding fake.
“So, you’re mad and you’re lying to me. Cool,” he mumbled, pushing himself off the car and heading towards the back of it.
You followed after him, “I just thought we were getting a little too cozy.”
He scoffed at your words, “You’ve never cared about that before.”
“Okay, I’m going back inside. You can’t be mad at me for giving you the space you seem to want.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he questioned, but you ignored him as you walked back into the cabin.
Chad soon joined him outside to help him carry in the stuff. He noticed Ethan’s mood, and started to feel bad that he knew you had your feelings, and if he’d just say something, the whole issue would be fixed.
“You okay, dude?” Chad asked, as Ethan started to walk towards the door with some of the luggage.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
As the day progressed, you brought up sleeping on the couch before Ethan could say anything. He argued that he should, but you eventually won the argument. The tension seemed to resolve a little. Your feelings were still hurt, but he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to spend the vacation mad at him.
When Chad talked about going to the store to get food again, you decided to stay at the cabin. The sun was starting to set, and the slight chill from the higher altitude made you really want to get in the hot tub. Ethan stayed with you, not feeling comfortable leaving you there by yourself. He sat in one of the rocking chairs as you walked out in your swimsuit with a towel in hand.
“You going to make me get in by myself?” you asked, smiling at him. He was trying so hard to not stare at your body, so he maintained eye contact.
“Fine, give me a minute,” he sighed, walking inside to change.
You eased into the hot water, sitting where you had the perfect view of the sunset over the mountain line. Ethan soon walked out and hung his towel over the side of the deck before climbing in to sit beside you.
“This is so beautiful,” you said, taking in the pink and orange hue in the sky. It was making your skin glow when Ethan looked at you.
“Yeah, beautiful,” he said, as you looked over to him and smiled. You sat in silence for a few minutes, before he spoke up, “What was with you earlier?”
You sighed, not wanting to say that you heard him talking to Chad, “I just, I don’t know. Maybe we’re getting a little too close.”
“Why do you feel that way?”
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” you said, before Ethan started to scoot away. “What?” you asked, looking over to him.
“If you think we’re getting too close, I’m giving you your space,” he said, before getting out.
“You’re going to get mad at me if I don’t feel like telling you what’s wrong?” you questioned, as he started to get mad.
“You tell me everything. Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong right now so we can move past it?”
“Because you don’t like to be open about what’s bothering you,” you snapped, climbing out as well. You slipped a little, almost falling on the deck before Ethan caught you. “Thanks, I got it.” You pulled away from him and walked inside to change into dry clothes.
Ethan didn’t know what you meant, because other than his feelings towards you, he was completely open. He knew you hadn’t figured that out, so he decided to pull Tara outside to the deck after your friends got back from the store.
“What’s up with her?” he nervously asked, “What did I do?”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this, so all I’m going to say is that you both just need to open your eyes,” she said, as he looked at her, still just as confused as he was before the conversation even started. “She’s your best friend. You know her better than anyone. You can figure this out.”
“It’d be so much easier if you just told me, though,” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “She thinks we’re too close. What’s that about?”
“Fuck, I’m not telling you anything else other than this, but she overheard you and Chad talking earlier about you not wanting to sleep in the same bed with her. She didn’t say what else was said, but her feelings were hurt. Now, go fix it,” she said, walking away from him.
He started to think back to the things he said, but there was no way he could just come out and apologize for making you feel bad without explaining why he said what he said. He was worried about ruining the friendship, but with the current state of it, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to finally just tell you. You’ve never been in an argument, and you’ve never even gotten mad at each other, so it was all just so confusing for him as he tried to decide on the right thing to do.
When he walked back inside, he started to look for you. He asked Chad where you were before he pointed to you, asleep on the couch.
“I need advice, because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing right now,” Ethan whispered to Chad, “She overheard our conversation earlier.”
Chad started to nod, as Ethan’s eyes went wide.
“You knew she heard it? Fuck, dude,” he sighed, “How do I tell her that the problem with us sharing a bed isn’t because I don’t want to be around her, but it’s because I won’t be able to keep my hands off her?”
“Wow, uh, I didn’t know things were that hard for you,” Chad laughed, as Ethan rolled his eyes.
“I just…I’m so fucking attracted to her, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” he said, looking over to you to make sure you were still asleep. “I want to be affectionate with her, it’s hard enough when we aren’t trying to sleep in the same bed.”
“Maybe she wants the same thing,” Chad suggested, as Ethan shook his head.
“There’s no way. She would’ve shown me hints by now.”
“Just open your eyes,” Chad said, making Ethan a little irritated.
“That’s what Tara said. What does that even mean?” Ethan asked, as Chad shrugged.
“You’ll figure it out, I’m going to bed.”
Ethan decided to head to bed, hoping a good night’s sleep would help him come up with the answers he needed, but he couldn’t get comfortable. He just kept tossing and turning and couldn’t stop thinking about you.
You started to stir awake, noticing a sound coming from outside the front door. Once you heard the doorknob move the slightest bit, you jumped up and ran to Ethan’s room.
“Hey, something’s outside,” you said, as he slowly sat up and laughed a little.
“We are out in the middle of nowhere right now. I’m sure there is something outside.”
“The doorknob wiggled, Ethan. I can’t sleep out there by myself like that…unless you want to check it out for me,” you sighed, as he stood up.
From the moonlight that was flowing through the window, you noticed that he was shirtless, and that his workouts with Chad seemed to really be paying off. Not that it mattered, because you’d think he was attractive regardless. Then you noticed how low his sweatpants were hanging on his hips, and felt your mouth start to water.
Ethan took in your appearance, the shorts he fully expected you to wear snugly hugging your hips and your hard nipples from the cold air in the cabin showing through the thin material of your shirt. He wanted to just tell you to sleep in the bed with him, but he couldn’t. He’d gotten so used to all the little affectionate things you’d regularly do, things he chalked up to the friendship being so close, but it was still so hard for him to push his thoughts about you to the side.
“You don’t have to go out with me,” he said, walking towards the cabin door with you closely behind him.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” you said, making him laugh.
“Then why did you ask me to see what was out here?”
He slowly opened the door, the both of you jumping when a large raccoon scurried away.
“You’re worried about that cute little guy breaking in and snuggling with you on the couch?” he asked, as you rolled your eyes. “I’m kidding. Let’s make sure there’s nothing else out here.”
He pulled out his phone, turning the flashlight on and looking around to make sure there wasn’t anything else you needed to be concerned about. You noticed something along the tree line, it’s glowing eyes lit up by the light.
“What is that?” you asked, as it started to step a little closer.
“I think we should go inside,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the door.
That’s when the animal started to run, the fear coursing through your veins making you cling to Ethan.
“It’s a fucking deer,” he laughed, trying to catch his breath. You were still attached to him when he tried to pull away from you. “You’re safe, let’s go back inside.”
Once you made it back to your spot on the couch, he stood in the middle of the living room, starting to feel a little bad that he had that huge bed to himself. He noticed that you still seemed a little nervous from what’d just happened, and he let out a big sigh before he started to speak.
“Do you want to sleep in the room with me?”
“Not if it’s going to be ‘torture’ for you,” you said, as he started to get irritated.
“You don’t get it,” he said, walking back towards the room. You were really starting to get sick of all the conversations you’d had within the last day ending in one of you walking away, so you followed him.
“What don’t I get?” you asked, as he sat down on the side of the bed and looked at the floor. You walked around to stand in front of him, waiting for him to answer you. “I don’t want this entire week to be this way. Just fucking talk to me!”
He sighed, before looking up to you, “What you heard earlier isn’t as bad as you think it is…the torture thing you were talking about, just look at what you’re fucking wearing.”
You looked down at your choice of sleepwear and started to feel a little self-conscious. You tried to pull your shorts down a little, noticing how much they’d ridden up in your sleep. He watched you as you tried to cover your body.
“Hey,” he said softly, as your eyes connected with his, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way…Just…get in the bed, okay?”
“Tell me how you mean it then, Ethan. I can’t read your mind,” you said, walking back around to the other side of the bed.
“I will in the morning. I just need you to stay on your side of the bed,” he sighed, looking over to you.
“Fine,” you said, pulling the blanket over you as you settled into the bed. He lay on his side, his back towards you.
After a few minutes, he rolled over to face you. He couldn’t take it anymore, and he needed to know if you felt the same about him. “You know you mean a lot to me, right?”
“You mean a lot to me, too,” you smiled, as he moved closer towards you. “So I have to stay on my side, but you don’t?”
Your breathing started to get heavy when you noticed how close he was getting, his eyes looking into yours. He didn’t say anything as he leaned in, his lips gently kissing yours. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t kiss him back. You wanted to, but he pulled away before you had the chance for your brain to process everything.
He scooted back to his side, laying on his back as he started to think about how he’d just ruined the friendship.
“Ethan?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” he sighed, as you started to smirk. You knew that this was your opportunity to finally tell him how you felt now that he’d opened the door for it to happen.
“Ethan, are you interested in me?” you asked, as he nodded.
“It doesn’t have to be weird now, does it? You didn’t kiss me back, and that’s fine. It sucks, but I’ll get over it,” he said, as you sat up and inched closer to him.
“What if I don’t want you to get over it?” you asked, leaning down to kiss him.
The kiss was so needy, both of you craving each other as you moved to straddle him. His hands held your hips as yours went to his hair. After a few minutes, you pulled away, the both of you panting as his hands rubbed your hips. The way he was looking at you made you wet, as your hips started to grind against him.
“Shit,” he quietly groaned, not wanting your friends to hear him.
“You okay?” you asked, looking down at him. He nodded, desperate for you to make another move. You reached down to grab the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, his eyes going wide as he stared at your chest. His hands reached up to massage your breasts, the feeling making your eyes flutter, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
You kept grinding against him as whimpers started to slip past your lips from the friction against your clit and the feeling of his fingers pinching at your nipples.
“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, moving his hands back to your hips to make you move faster.
“Wait,” you mumbled, your hips coming to a stop. You started to move off him, noticing the wet spot on his sweatpants from where your wetness had soaked through your panties and the thin shorts. “Can I suck your cock?”
He felt like he could cum from those words alone as he nodded his head. “I need you to tell me, baby. Use your words,” you teased, rubbing your hand over his hard cock.
“Please,” he whimpered, the sound making you cock your eyebrow as you smiled at him. He adjusted his hips so it was easier your you to slide his sweatpants and boxers down, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d tried to imagine what your mouth would feel like before, but as soon as he actually felt it, it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. Your tongue licked up the underside of his cock and swirled around the tip. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, before you took him in your mouth. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
You’d barely done anything to him yet, and he was already being so vocal. Your core was throbbing as you took him as far as you could, the gagging feeling making him gasp. His hand went to the back of your head, gently encouraging you to keep going.
You knew he was getting close when the light grip he had on your hair got tighter, his actions making you moan around him as you started to move faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he watched you, trying so hard not to be loud. It only took your throat tightening around him a few more times before he finally let his whimpers out again.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, his eyes fluttering and his jaw falling open as he started to release in your mouth. You got him through it, before sitting up and smiling at him. “There’s no way that just happened,” he sighed in disbelief as he caught his breath. “That was amazing.”
“Well, it definitely did happen. I can still taste your cum.”
He groaned at your words before he flipped you over and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped out, his tongue swirling against you as he sucked. He moved to the other side, looking up at you as his teeth grazed against your nipple. Your hand reached down to rub yourself over your shorts, the throbbing in your core starting to hurt.
“Let me take care of you, baby,” he said, kissing down your tummy. He stopped at the top of your pajama shorts and looked up at you before sliding them down. “This is okay?”
“Mhm,” you got out, as your fingers started to run through his hair. He leaned his head into it, loving the feeling of your nails against his scalp.
His fingers went under the waistband of your shorts as he started to pull them down. With how tight they were, he was struggling to get them over your ass. You started to giggle, lifting your hips a little so he could get them off of you easier. He leaned back a little to pull them down your legs before he leaned back down to where you needed him.
“Can you put your hands back in my hair?”
You nodded, your fingers tangling in his curls as he licked a stripe up your clit.
“Shit,” you gasped, as he really started to get into it. He kept alternating between swirling his tongue against your clit and dipping it inside of you. You started to whimper a little louder than he wanted you to, so he pulled away. The lack of contact made you whine as a hushed laugh slipped past his lips and he shook his head.
“I want to make you feel good, but you need to be quiet, baby,” he said, his eyes looking into yours. You nodded, knowing how hard it was going to be for you.
His head went back to his place in between your thighs, placing gentle licks to your clit as he started to push one of his fingers into you. You tried to muffle your moans with your bottom lip, but once he added a second finger and started to move it against that spongy spot inside of you, you had to cover your mouth with your hand.
His eyes looked up into yours as you started to tug harder on his hair. He was proud of himself, so happy that he was the one that was making you feel so good that you were struggling to keep your sounds in.
“Keep moving your fingers just like that,” you whined, before covering your mouth again.
He inched you closer and closer to your orgasm, your toes curling against the sheets as the grip on his hair made him groan against you. The feeling of your pussy starting to flutter around his fingers made him groan even louder as he thought about how amazing it would feel around his cock. Your body started to shake as he used his free arm to pin your hips down so he could work you through it. Once your pussy stopped clenching, your grip on his hair relaxed, a goofy smile on your lips as he looked back up at you.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, as you started to make grabby hands at him.
He hovered over you and looked into your eyes as your arms wrapped around him. You felt his hard cock press against you as you started to wiggle your hips a little underneath him.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.
“Just pull out,” you said with a smirk, his eyes going wide at the suggestion. “I’m on birth control, it’s fine.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, as he reached in between the two of you to line up with your entrance.
He slowly slid inside of you and stilled to give you time to adjust to his size. He started to kiss you as you grew impatient.
“Please,” you mumbled against his lips as he smiled.
“Please what?” he questioned, not moving until he heard what you wanted.
“Please fuck me,” you said, your words dripping with lust as you pleaded.
He started to move as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He watched the faces you were making with each thrust, not wanting to miss a single one.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips moving a little faster.
He started to drill into your g-spot as your fingernails drug across his back. You were trying to be quiet, but it was getting harder with each deep thrust.
“Quiet, baby,” he warned, his hips slowing a little. “You’re going to wake everybody up.”
“Make me be quiet,” you said sweetly, an almost animalistic look appearing in Ethan’s eyes at your words.
He leaned in to kiss you as he sped back up, his mouth catching all your moans. You reached in between his body and yours to rub quick circles on your clit. When your moans turned into high-pitch whimpers, he pulled his mouth away from yours and replaced it with his hand as he mercilessly pounded into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the faint tapping of the headboard against the wall filling the room.
“That’s it, baby. You can take it,” he whispered, as your eyebrows started to furrow, and your pussy started to clench. “You’re doing such a good job for me.”
He was sure he was going to have scratches all over his back as your nails just kept digging, but he didn’t let up.
“You gonna cum?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “Cum for me, baby.”
That’s all it took for you to start shaking underneath him. The way your pussy spasmed around him felt so good that his own orgasm was quickly approaching.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and shooting his hot cum all over your stomach.
He sat on his knees as he caught his breath. Your sleepy smile made him smirk as he started to get up.
“Do you want to take a shower with me? At least to get this off you?”
You nodded, as he slid off the side of the bed. He tried to help you up, your legs wobbling as soon as your feet touched the floor.
“You okay?” he asked with a small laugh as you walked in front of him.
“Yeah, that was…wow,” you said, your brain still clouded with the post-orgasm haze.
“Shh, we need to be quick. I don’t want anyone to see us naked,” he whispered, leading you down the dark hall to the bathroom.
You grabbed some of the complimentary body wash off the counter as Ethan cut the shower on. He stepped inside as you followed, the water flow washing his cum off you. You stayed silent for the most part, other than the occasional small laughs slipping out as you’d thought about what you’d just done with your best friend.
Once you stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off, Ethan’s hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed your wet shoulder.
“If I would’ve known that was going to happen, I would’ve kissed you sooner,” he said, pulling away to dry himself off. When he turned around, you noticed the bright red marks that ran front his shoulder blades to the middle of his back.
“Uhm, it looks like you’re going to be wearing a shirt for the rest of this trip,” you said, as he turned around to look at it in the mirror.
“Damn, I look like I was mauled,” he laughed, as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.
“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled, as the two of you walked out on your towels.
When you made it back to the room, you started to grab clothes to put on when Ethan stopped you.
“Can we just sleep naked?” he asked, smiling as you nodded.
You crawled back into the bed scooting to the middle as he laid down beside you. Your head went to his chest as his fingers traced patterns on your back, the soothing motion soon putting you to sleep.
When you woke up the next morning, Ethan was starting to stir awake, too, hearing the voices of your friends as they talked in the kitchen.
“I guess we should get up,” you said, as you started to pull away. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him.
“How do you feel about lazy morning sex?” he asked, as you smirked at him.
“Last night wasn’t enough for you?” you questioned. He shook his head in response.
You glanced down and noticed that the blanket was halfway down his thighs, his hard cock on display.
“Can you be quiet though?” he asked, as you shrugged.
“Probably not, but let’s try it,” you said, “How do you want to do this?”
“Roll over onto your side.”
You did as he said, his hands immediately starting to roam from your thigh, up your side and to your breast.
“Do you need me to eat you out first?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you. “Because I really don’t mind doing that again.”
You giggled at his eagerness before shaking your head. “I’m already wet, and we don’t have a lot of time.”
“Fine,” he sighed, adjusting your hips to slide into you.
His thrusts were slow as his hand held onto your hip. Sweet kisses were placed along your shoulder as you started to move your hips back to meet his.
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered, “and your skin is just so soft, and your just so beautiful.”
You smiled as he kept saying sweet things to you, his thrusts starting to speed up.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered out, as the tip of his cock kept hitting that special spot inside you. “That feels so good.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, as his hips moved faster. You were struggling to meet his thrusts, the tiredness from only a few hours of sleep catching up to you. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll do all the work.”
He kept hitting that spot as you felt your orgasm approaching.
“I don’t think I can be quiet,” you said, the nervousness evident in your voice. You were tensing up, not wanting to cum because you didn’t know what would come out of your mouth.
“You’re almost there, baby. Just relax,” he cooed, as his hand went from your thigh to cover your mouth again.
You were whimpering into his hand as the euphoric feeling started to wash over you, your pussy tightening around him as he tried to fuck you through it. It got harder for him the tighter you squeezed.
“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he said, pulling out and painting your lower back with his release.
In that moment, you heard a light knock on the door.
“Fuck,” Ethan whispered, pulling the blanket back up to cover the both of you.
You both closed your eyes as the door eased open, trying to make it seem like you were still asleep. Chad peaked in, before quickly backing away and closing the door.
You started to giggle as Ethan pulled away, “I need to get this off of you before it gets all over me and the bed.”
He grabbed a few tissues out of the box on the nightstand and cleaned your back for you. You rolled over as he leaned down to kiss you.
“Let’s get dressed. I’m starving,” you said, as he pulled away.
He nodded as you slid off the bed, watching you as you walked to the other side of the room to grab your clothes. He hated to watch you put them back on, wishing the two of you could just stay naked in bed together all day.
“I guess this friendship isn’t so innocent anymore,” he said, sliding his shirt on over his head.
“Friendship? After last night and this morning this is still just a friendship?” you questioned, as he walked over to wrap his arms around your waist.
“You’re right, it’s way more than that,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss you.
“You better not say we’re just fuck buddies, either. I’ll drown you in the hot tub,” you said with a smirk, as you got ready to walk out to join your friends.
“You’re way more than that, babe.”
408 notes · View notes
mischiefmoons · 7 months
Text
without a doubt
part one can be found here -> it will pass
Tumblr media
words: little under 3k
summary: James has a lot of questions, but he quickly finds out Peanut is the answer.
warnings: none! angst–hurts before things get happy, peter (since some of yall might need a warning), all the marauders are alive and happy, lily is too smart for this, peanut and jelly 4 ever
a/n: thank you for all the love (and tears shed) for it will pass! i genuinely rewrote this about four different times and almost lost the plot, but please let me know if it meets your expectations!
(posted 9/11/23)
DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 4
I know it will pass, it’s just heavy. You’re all I know.
There’s something about the noise in your brain as you move around your silent apartment. It overpowers the fear that hasn’t quite left your body after he let the front door fall shut. Being paralyzed in the aftermath of the truth that left your lips…It’s maddening. And you can’t even talk to the person you want to hear it most. You love him.
I do love you (Y/N), just in a different way.
Those 10 minutes were a fleeting moment in the life you’ve shared with your best friend thus far. But now, he’s stopped writing, stopped calling, and you’ve never heard him be so quiet in the past few days after the fact. There’s a knock at the door, and the sound interrupts the way you breathe, dishrag in hand, and James’ sweater still on your body.
I know that, James. I just don't know how to stop.
“What a vision you make, (Y/N).” Remus jokes in an attempt to try to make you smile. He’s leaning against the doorframe as you pop your head through the opening and he slowly moves to follow you into your home. Why does it feel like you have to explain yourself this time? But Remus is deeply understanding in nature, and he opens his arms for you to burrow yourself in.
“Get yourself fixed up. Not taking a no for an answer, love. You’ve been MIA for long enough and you know how Pads is about his birthday. He’ll want you there, broken heart be damned.” Remus is rubbing your back, and you groan.
“Ever the fucking diva.”
His chest rumbles with laughter, but both of you know that you say it lightly. Years ago, when Sirius moved into the Potter’s, it was understood that every birthday was to be as great as he was to his found family.
Nothing has to change, Peanut.
Remus sniffs you lightly, nose crinkling, “Place is spotless. Your turn for a deep clean and then off we go.” A horrified noise leaves your throat as you push yourself out of his embrace.
As the steam from the shower slowly suffocates you, you realize that Remus innately knew the reason for your emotional sabbatical from James and the rest of your friends. You wonder if everyone’s known that you’ve been in love with James Potter, and scrunch your face at how oblivious you both have been. The cold water washes away the grief that’s had a handle on your being this past month. Out of all the pranks they’ve played, this tops it. What a sick joke for the both of you to be left out of.
I think you should go now. Please.
DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 3
All of Sirius’s birthdays are spectacular, but you really can’t fight the hurt crawling up your chest. There are too many memories here at Potter Manor, too many familiar faces asking where you’ve been, and James looks petrified, eyes following your figure around the Manor like you’re a ghost he can’t touch. You walk up the stairs like you have many times over the years, finding a hideaway in the west wing. You and James used to gaze at the stars here.
“So why the hell are you moping on my birthday? No one’s allowed to be sad today.” Sirius grins, breaking the silence as he walks across the balcony to throw his arms over your seated figure.
“Happy Birthday Padfoot.” you smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You clink your glass against his as he takes a seat next to you on the bench.
“Trust me when I say you always look stunning, (Y/N) but there’s this look in your eye that you get when you’re around Prongs nowadays. Might I say it’s why you dropped off the face of the Earth?”
Your face instantly drops at his words, and you’re glad he can’t see much in the dim light.
“How long have you all known, Pads?”
“I don’t know about much when it comes to love, (Y/N). But what I do know is that I’m his brother, and you’re his best friend. There’s a lot of responsibility being those two things for someone like that idiot. You love him like humans need air.”
“I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” The elderflower wine glides down your throat, its taste sweet on your tongue. Sirius sits with you, knowing what’s coming next. As an older brother, he also knows you’ve been waiting for someone to listen.
“What do I do with all the love I have for him? Where does it go now that he doesn’t want it?”
“I’ll take some. It sounds lovely.” Peter’s voice almost echoes in the silence as you both turn your heads to see him and Remus in the dim light of the hallway, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand and it makes you genuinely smile for the first time in days.
“Yeah, pass it around. Godric knows Prongs doesn’t appreciate you enough.” Remus says bluntly, and you hit his stomach when he ruffles your hair.
“Honestly, what a prat! Makes you plan his proposal and doesn’t want you at the afterparty? The nerve.” You choke on the remnants of your wine as you laugh at Sirius’s outrage for you, and all four of you are giggling in the dark like idiots as Remus pours you shots. If anything else goes wrong in this life, you’re glad that you have the Marauders to live it with you.
The laughter reaches the hallway, and in walks Lily, who teasingly asks “Did the party move in here without us?” James is as still as a statue behind her, watching you laugh with his boys. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you happy and acknowledges that he’s to blame.
“You shouldn’t be surprised, Lils. There’s always a party when Padfoot’s around,” you remark, and everyone gets up to go back to the party. Lily looks around as if she’s missing something, then looks at James.
“I’m glad that (Y/N)’s back from whatever’s been keeping her busy. Looks like everything’s falling back into place.” she muses, and James can’t help but watch his best friend, no, his best girl, walk away, thinking that everything must be falling apart.
DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 2
It’s morning now, and a lot of the crowd has gone home or fallen asleep in the many rooms of Potter Manor. You decide to stay to help clean up for Mr. and Mrs. Potter, who were always like second parents to you as well. They had a thing for taking in kids who needed love. With your best efforts, you can’t seem to escape James, who has incessantly trailed behind you into every room you walk into. You dodge him again as you walk down the hall, but James, who has always been a chaser in more ways than one grabs you by the arm and pushes you into his childhood bedroom.
A shriek leaves you as he closes the door and has you up against the wall.
“What the fu—”
“You’re avoiding me. Why are you avoiding me?” his face is panicked as his breath hits your face.
“You told me to leave you alone. That’s what I’m doing now, James. What else could you want from me?” Your hands are on his chest, crinkling the dress shirt that you once helped him pick out at the shops, and you feel breathless, angry at knowing him too well, and angry at what he’s insinuating.
James is at a loss. He loves you. He’s never gone more than a weekend without you and now it’s been ages…. And he loves you. He’s looking at you differently now, in the sunlight that floods through his old bedroom. He loves you so much that it hurts.
His hands slide from the wall behind you, until they reach your shoulders, and trace down your arms. Intertwining your fingers together, James speaks.
“I didn’t mean…” he exhales. “I just…”
“Did you not want me here too? Because unfortunately, my friends are also yours, so maybe we can clarify exactly the terms you want me to follow next time, James.” you seethe, getting in his face.
You push him away, his arms chasing after you, pining for your touch. Your heart is racing with hurt, with anger, with love, all for the man standing across the room.
“Peanut…”
“No.”
“I never want you to leave me alone, okay? It’s been agony without you and I can’t even put into words how—”
“I can, James. How long have I been so oblivious to the fact that I’m in love with you and how long have you just let it happen? You can’t just… please don’t pretend that you don’t know that I’ve been waiting all my life for you to let me fill the empty spaces in your heart.” Your voice wavers as you pull yourself away from him, sitting on his bed.
“Just tell me what’s happening, Peanut. You’ve always had the answers. I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not there and I….. my heart feels like it’s going to combust… I… I just feel…. so intensely. I miss who I am when I’m with you.”
James throws himself down onto the bed, hyperventilating with his head in his hands. Your hands are shaking as you reach for him. You’ll always reach for him.
He raises his head, as you delicately grab his face into your hands. Your fingertips brush his tears away, loving him for the mess he is.
“My life has been so quiet these past few days and I’m so scared to live life without you. Did I fuck it all up for us?” You whisper.
James licks his lips, and he’s playing with your hair in his hands. Your knees are touching on the patterned bedspread. The space between you diminishes as you realize that he’s about to ruin everything.
Your best friend is going to kiss you.
He’s holding your jaw so gently and for a second, you wonder if this is what it would feel like to be loved by him in the way that you do. With every single ounce of control, you turn your head away from what you’ve been craving most. James’ lips land on your cheek, and he’s chasing after you again, muttering apologies as he looks into your eyes and sees everything he’s been wanting. He sees his whole life with you through the split second your eyes connect. Pushing him away again, you stumble away with a sob.
“What was that?”
“I just… “ He’s gasping for air, feeling like his heart has exploded, and the silence is so loud that he feels like his heart must be in pieces, and you’re picking up the wreckage to take home. He’s in love with you. His heart has always been yours.
“You what, James? Don’t do that!”
He’s lived in a mansion his whole life but Godric, is this room suddenly feeling too small? You get on your feet, stepping away from him and he’s following you.
“Do what?”
“Don’t make me hate you, Jelly. Loving you has been painful enough.” Tears are blurring your vision as you hiccup, and maybe it’s better to not see him right now. Maybe you really shouldn’t have come.
“I just wanted to know. I know now, love, I…” James whimpers at the sound of his nickname. Your nickname for him alone has this man wanting to drop to his knees.
“No. Don’t you know how cruel you’re being right now? To me? To the love of your life? I would never do that to Lily!” Your voice is getting louder by the minute, and James is stoic in his silence, steps away from your blaze.
“But you told me you’re in love with me. Are you saying this is because of me?”
“Everything I do is because of you, James. And if you don’t know that by now…” Then maybe you don’t know me at all.
The words go unsaid but the both of you are hit with the reality of it. Your hands jangle the doorknob to get away from him, to be anywhere but here.
DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 1
Lily listens intently as James tells her everything he's been wanting to say for the last eleven years. She's not surprised, in fact, she knows this is the truth, but she's still heartbroken. Lily Evans and James Potter are both people who like to chase things, people—but after all that’s said and done, the thrill wears off. They’re more alike than they’ll ever know.
He tries to apologize, but Lily cuts him off and tells him there's no need. She's always known the truth, and even though it took him this long, she's glad he finally figured it out. Smartest girl of their year, after all.
“I mean, I always felt like she should’ve been dating you, but then we happened and I fell too hard and didn’t stop to ask questions. I tried to be blind to it, but…it was nice, wasn’t it?” Lily whispers, holding James’ hand for the last time. He looks like he’s about to pass out.
“I’ll be okay, Potter. I was before you, and I will be after you. So thank you for being honest. You’ve always been honest with me.” A small kiss on his cheek renders him breathless. Once upon a time, he would stay up all night at the idea of Lily Evans loving him. But his heart has always belonged to you. Without a doubt, James Potter is in love with you, his best friend.
He doesn’t tell Lily he was planning to propose tomorrow, since the situation is already as messy as it is. But Lily Evans always knows.
JAMES HAS A PROPOSAL
James is pushing boxes back into Potter Manor, and Mippy helps flit the rest of his belongings up the stairs with magic. The least he could do is give Lily their apartment after their breakup. He looks around, rubbing his fingers of dust as his mother calls him for dinner. How humbling, he thinks, to start all over because he was too stupid to realize he’s in love. Starting over in a place he calls home is absurd. He looks out towards the courtyard where you had your fairytale wedding, walks by the hallways you used to race training broomsticks in, and back to his room where he used to whisper hushed lullabies to help you sleep. Everything reminds him of you, and your love consumes each memory that flickers through his vision. The feeling shocks him like ripping your head out of a pensieve. He’s so utterly in love with you.
What the hell is he doing at his parents’ house? He should be getting his girl! James apparates to your apartment, knocking on the door like a madman. He knocks so loudly the wood is bruising his knuckles, red blooming under his touch.
The door rips open, and he’s never been so glad to see you angry.
“You literally have a key, James. You don’t have to be a dick every—”
“You’re wrong.”
Your frustration gives way, lines on your forehead wrinkling in confusion. It’s like there’s a glass separating the both of you, and you’re scared to touch him.
You shake your head as he continues, “You’re wrong, by the way. I don’t know if Lily’s the love of my life. I haven’t lived it with her, nor will I. What I do know is that I’ve loved you for most of mine.”
“What are you saying, Jelly,” you utter, and James’ is grinning so largely you want to punch his face in.
“I love you. As in I’m in love with you. Without any doubt, or excuses, or anyone holding me back, my heart is yours, if you’ll have me?”
He rushes to catch you, his proposal hitting you hard as you fall into his embrace, hands feeling as much of him as you can. His broad shoulders, his strong neck, the dimples on his cheek, the glasses on his face—all of him is in love with you.
Your blubbering is muffled as he finally pulls his lips to yours, finally feeling, finally… James’ kiss lays out all of what he’s been holding in, and without words you both understand that this wreckage in your beating hearts, the destruction of everything you’ve set together as best friends, is love. He’s clutching you to his body, moving you backward into your apartment, feet moving in sync like an orchestrated dance. You both fall onto your couch in a fit of laughter and tears. Finally.
“How foolish of me to be with another, Peanut. I’m a married man, after all.”
"Not bad for a second kiss, Jelly." You laugh at him.
James looks at your smile like it’s the answer to every question he’ll ask in this life.
“We give those we love nicknames, because love requires a word that belongs to us alone.” Fredrik Backman
tagged: @prongs-moon @alltheotherkidss @anehkael @princessprongs
865 notes · View notes
Note
Take all the time you need to write pt2 . Donf feel like you have to rush or anything 🩷 also Idm if you keep me anonymous or not cause ill probably re blog it anyway
A Sweetheart pt 2 - LN
Summary: Going on a trip for New Year with AngryGinge while dating his sister was meant to be a gesture of good will, but alcohol and young adults is a recipe for good times and embarrassing moments.
Don't know if this is exactly...the request but kind of? I wanted to make it a bit of new year theme because I hate December with a passion (like if I could be put into an induced coma every year from Nov 30th to Jan 1st just to skip this damned month then I would)
Tumblr media
Lando wouldn't really admit it, but Morgan probably wouldn't have got an invite for New Year if it wasn't for y/n. Not that he doesn't like the guy but Morgan and him haven't know each other for that long really.
Y/n and Morgan were last minute additions to the New Year trip and Lando is pretty excited to have them there now it's happening. Plus, the alcohol is helping. Usually he's not a big drinker. But trying to keep up with y/n is proving to be harder than he suspected.
"Tequila rose is the best thing that's ever been invented." Y/n declares making Lando laugh and smile at her.
"You think so?" Lando smiles lazily as she sits down on the sofa with him. His large hand resting so high up on her inner thigh that his finger tips brush the flimsy material of her underwear which is damp and tempting for Lando to say the least.
"Hey, there's the new couple. My live wants to know if you're going to be sharing the new year kiss?" One of Lando's friends asks directing the camera at the two and Lando, in his slightly drunken state doesn't think to move his hand from the very hidden spot under the skirt of y/n's dress.
"Yes." Y/n grins making the young woman cheer before she walks away. "My brother is going to smack you if he sees you sitting with your hand there."
"I...can't find it in me to care. I'm sure he'd be mortified to know what I do to you with other body parts when we're not surrounded by other people." Lando smirks while she look at him for a moment and leans her head back on his shoulder as Lando's free hand moves up, his finger tracing her jaw and running down under it. "You're so beautiful."
A bit of truth serum effect from the alcohol as he stares at her.
"Thanks." Y/n whispers before she shifts over straddling him as he sucks in a breathe and almost nudges up against her. "Should we find somewhere without an audience?"
"Yes." Lando confirms not feeling quite so entirely aware of the people around him in the moment. He might've been willing to have sex right there and then with his head so caught up solely on y/n. But had either of them been paying attention the might've realised that while no intentionally catching the moment of the two of them caught up in such a heated kiss, others have accidentally shown y/n and Lando disappearing with it fairly obvious what they're disappearing to do.
He stands up using her position of straddling him, kissing her as he hikes her legs around his waist and heads towards the nearest bathroom despite being aware that they're going to miss the countdown that is a matter of a couple minutes away.
Hearing screaming numbers and just getting a kiss vs being able to make y/n moan and orgasm as part of their new year together, that sounds and is going to feel much more appealing.
-
Starting the first morning (is it still morning? they don't even know) the same way they started the New Year. Y/n smiles as Lando moves to kiss her softly.
"Do you know...how good you taste?" Lando questions, voice slightly lower from the night following them both celebrating the moment of new year with him buried in her.
Safe to say the feeling they both had when midnight hit was actually more than just the cute feeling of a kiss. Though they were definitely caught in a hot and heavy kiss in the moment.
Right now Lando is kissing down her body, taste the residue of spilled alcohol on her skin since Morgan did find them when they reappeared and ended up managing to knock a drink onto his sister.
They're both a bit of a mess, but for some reason it brings out the same side of Lando that had him going feral with y/n while she was pushed up onto the bathroom counter next to the sink. Just the fuzzy memory has Lando in desperate need to taste her.
"God, Lando." Y/n nearly whines dropping her head back into the pillow feeling his fingers tease her before they're pushed in, accompanied by his tongue on her clit making her eyes roll back.
"Lando fucking Norris, you're about to fucking die!" A voice exclaims bursting into suite and nearly breaking the door which apparently hadn't been locked when they came stumbling through it in the early hours of the morning.
Y/n doesn't have time to jump away from Lando, only yanking the blanket over herself in time for Morgan to appear. He doesn't look very well in himself if she's being honest and when he takes a moment to realise what's happening as Lando pulls himself out from under the blanket with a smirk, wiping at his mouth.
Then Morgan just completely turns white, near green and he vomits on the floor making both y/n and Lando grimace.
"Jesus, Morgan. For fuck sake. Next time you don't want to see me having sex, learn to knock." Y/n sighs reaching down to the floor to pick up Lando's shirt then pulling it on and climbing out the bed, feeling like her modesty is a bit more intact. She also managed to throw some clothes at Lando before tending to her brother.
"No, I'm here to fight that bloody man."
"No. You're still drunk and quite frankly you couldn't take him even if you weren't." Y/n frowns pushing him into the bathroom. "You're such a mess."
Lando smiles knowing that her anger is partially out of concern for her brother but also out of frustration that she was getting head and just got completely cockblocked by her brother's drunken rage. They don't even know why he's mad but he is.
Eventually he moves into the bathroom handing y/n some shorts to put on when he gets in there while she looks at her brother on the floor, mumbling a thanks.
"Hey, mate. What's going on?" Lando asks in a slightly mocking manner, as if he's talking to a toddler who just threw a tantrum. Although in his defence, a drunk adult basically is a toddler.
"Here, you two got caught sneaking off on every fuckers fucking posts. We all know where you two were when no one could find the two of you for the bloody countdown." Morgan exclaims while Lando looks at him for a moment before having to turn away to hide his smile. "He's fucking laughing!"
"Because you're being an idiot, Morgan. Look, come on. I'll take you back to your room and you can get some sleep. Rest up, I'll order you some room service to sober up a bit, yeah? Lando can stay here and not provoke you like he always does." Y/n sighs looking at her boyfriend who just shrugs since he's not sorry for winding Morgan up even if Morgan is a bit of a complete mess right now.
Lando does help Morgan up to his feet before Morgan puts an arm around y/n's shoulder to support his weight as she manages to guide him out of their room, shoving her feet into her shoes as she exits and Lando sighs flopping back on the bed where he is confronted with why Morgan is so annoyed.
All over his fan pages reposts and tags of screenshots or screen recordings of him in the background of videos and pictures carrying y/n, caught in a kiss that honestly he's surprised didn't lead to him bumping into anyone.
Clearly no one who made the posts noticed them in the background either, probably too drunk when posting to think about anyone else in frame other than themselves.
Y/n, meanwhile, has ordered a pizza with chicken nuggets and fries. The pizza for Morgan and the chicken nuggets and fries for her.
"Y/n..." Morgan murmurs as he looks at the pizza and she hums looking up from her phone where she's also seeing it all. "Do you really like him?"
"Yes."
"You know it's not going to be easy when he's travelling..."
"I know, but thankfully I have a highly irritating brother who was apparently born to be my best friend. So while I might miss my boyfriend and things might even not work out, I know you're stuck with me for life."
Morgan smiles since he knows his twin sister loves him above and before anyone else. Being a twin really is just like that.
"You are ok with this, aren't you?" Y/n asks knowing that she shouldn't care whether Lando has her brothers blessing but if it was genuinely making him that miserable then she'd probably begin to think about whether it was ok or not.
"I think he was a bit fucking cheeky going after my sister...but if you're happy, I'm going to tell you that you have to dump him for my benefit. You wouldn't listen to me anyway." Morgan smiles, finally flashing her a glimpse of her brother who does care so much.
"Alright, good. Because what you think does matter to me. Even if you're a massive pain in my arse." Y/n smiles then grinning at him. "Love my little brother."
"Fuck off."
After finishing eating and making sure he has a bucket to be sick in, just to be on the safe side.
"I'm going to leave you to sleep. I'll come check on you later, ok?"
"Yeah, I'm ok." Morgan nods already half way to sleep.
Y/n smiles exiting the room and moving back to her and Lando's room, having to knock on the door to be let back in which makes him reappear with a smirk.
"Is he ok?" Lando chuckles making her smile lightly at him.
"Yeah, and we talked. He's not really upset about you and I dating. I just think he'd rather not have visible evidence that forces him to acknowledge we have sex."
"I think I can agree to trying to be more careful around parties of people documenting the whole night and trying to be more subtle." Lando smiles before she sighs climbing back into the bed with him. "We were drunk."
"We were."
"I got something to eat with him. Have you eaten anything?"
"Aside from you before we were rudely interrupted?" Lando hums earning a smile. "Can I finish that first and then we can order something?"
"Yes. Definitely." Y/n confirms with a grin.
"Good."
502 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
Text
you're not jonathan
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'no upside down au' rated t wc: 997 cw: recreational drug use, language tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending but we all know what's gonna happen
🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿
Steve was not supposed to be the one picking up the drugs for the party.
He wasn't even going to the party.
But Jonathan couldn't get it from his usual guy, said he was back home in California for the summer, and it wasn't like Robin had a hookup.
Eddie Munson didn't technically deal anymore, but he made exceptions for previous customers, and Jonathan had been a regular during high school.
It wasn't shocking news to Steve, but what was shocking was hearing all these stories about how Eddie didn't even usually meet someone during daylight hours. Except today, apparently.
Steve tripped over another branch, barely caught himself before falling on his face.
"I better get so high off this shit," he said to himself.
"I only sell the good shit."
Steve froze.
Somehow, he'd missed a person walking up to him, probably when he nearly ate dirt.
"Is there any reason a hike is required to get some weed?" Steve asked, brushing his hands on his pants to get the remnants of the tree trunk he saved himself on.
Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, raising an unimpressed brow.
"No. Jonathan suggested the place."
Hard to believe the guy who hated being outside for more than a few minutes would have suggested a half mile trek into the woods, but Steve didn't really care to argue.
"O...kay. Well, I've got the cash if you wanna get this over with," Steve said as he reached into his pockets that were..."Fuck."
He started patting his pockets, his shirt, looking around him at the ground to try to find his wallet.
"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, coming closer.
"I lost my wallet. Shit!"
"Alright, I can help you look, man. It's not a big deal. Gotta be somewhere, right?" Eddie started looking around him, though it was half-hearted at best. "What's it look like?"
"It's brown. Um, leather?" Steve suddenly forgot any other details about his wallet. How convenient.
"Okay, so the color of the ground. Should be easy."
Steve snorted.
Eddie was smirking as he walked the way Steve came, checking the ground around him as he did so.
Steve followed behind, but he was pretty certain they wouldn't find it.
After ten minutes of looking, Eddie sighed.
"We should just smoke a bit. Take the edge off. Ya know?"
"I don't think that's a good idea. I can't pay you until I find my wallet," Steve said as he continued looking, bending down to get a closer look at a spot that seemed like the color of his wallet.
"On the house."
Steve stood straight up.
"Really?"
"Can't really kick ya when you're down, can I? Plus, I planned on smoking after you left anyway. We can share," Eddie shrugged, like it was no big deal.
Steve had never gotten high outside of house parties, the comfort of his own home or a friend's home soothing his anxieties about losing his inhibitions.
But out here? With Eddie? It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.
"Alright," Steve shrugged back.
Eddie must have sensed something about him, though, because he didn't let him take more than three puffs of the joint before he put it out and found a collection of boulders for them to sit on.
"You ever think about how trees are alive but they don't have ears?" Steve asked a minute later.
"Oh, you're that kind of high." Eddie poked his hand, making him look over at him. "You eat today?"
"Maybe. I've been busy. Do you think trees get hungry?" Steve replied.
Eddie searched his face before letting his pinky rest against Steve's hand on the rock.
It felt like fire.
"They do."
"But they don't have pancakes or cheeseburgers. Like, we can't grind it up and put it in the dirt for them, right?" Steve's jaw dropped. "Can we?"
Eddie watched as Steve looked over at some of the trees surrounding them.
"I don't think we can, no."
"A shame. They're missin' out. You know who else is missin' out? Jonathan! He made me come here and he didn't even tell me you had long hair or like the nicest eyelashes. Which is weird because he didn't shut up about anything else about you but he forgot about the eyelashes!" Steve's hand curled around Eddie's pinky. "And you look warm."
Eddie's brows raised.
He wasn't sure who Steve was. Jonathan had just insisted he was cool.
But Jonathan hadn't mentioned that his hair looked softer than silk, or that his eyes were wide and innocent despite his lip curling up in the corner in annoyance.
Jonathan seemed to have left a lot of things out.
"Well, it is summer. It's pretty warm," Eddie gulped. "But you do look a little cold."
"I get cold easy. Robin says it's because I don't eat enough red meat or something. Low irony or something."
Eddie was so endeared.
"I could help you stay warm? Walk you back to your car if you want?"
Eddie did not want that, but he knew Steve probably needed to walk off some of this high before his friends started to worry about him.
"Don't wanna walk," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "My head is walking."
"Should I try to head back and get one of your friends?"
Steve shook his head.
"Be fine in an hour."
"Okay," Eddie put his arm around Steve's shoulder, surprised to find that Steve was shivering. "Hey, you okay?"
"You do have good shit."
"That's not an answer," Eddie chuckled.
"I'm good. Best."
Eddie let him burrow further into his side and waited for his shivering to subside before he suggested heading back to his car again.
Steve still refused, and Eddie didn't have it in him to push.
Not when they were finding shapes in the clouds and he was holding Steve close.
He'd definitely owe Jonathan a lot of product if this went the way he wanted it to.
790 notes · View notes
hughesurdaddy43 · 3 months
Text
Come over
Summary: I'm setting off. But not without my muse
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem reader
Note: IM sorry guys this one is actually so long so I cut it in half so the next part Ill post tomorrow & its gonna kill you
Tumblr media
It's been three days since you've last seen Quinn. 72 hours since the two of you shared a kiss. 259,200 seconds of you replaying that moment in your head, over and over again.
Quinn had already left for his away game, and not seeing him in person again after he single handedly took your breath away was driving you crazy.
You sit on your couch, having yet another lazy day after opting out of going into your office today. Your mind is too much in a daze to deal with annoying coworkers who are a little too interested in your friendship with the famous hockey player. With your computer in your lap, you try and focus on an email from your boss that has gone unread for the last four days, and as soon as you start reading the first line, your phone starts to ring.
Quinns name flashes on the screen and you don't hesitate to toss your computer to the side and answer your FaceTime call. He flashes a smile as soon as the call connects. It's dim where he is, and you soon realize that he's on the bus. His under eyes are dark, and his beard is a little more scruffy than usual, but that doesn't stop you from thinking he's still the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on .
"Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?" You ask Quinn, raising your eyebrow at him. It's a mom kind of question, one that you know Ellen would ask if she had seen him awake this late at night after he had played, and won a game.
"Couldn’t sleep," He tells you, and you know it's a lie. His poker face never worked on you. You roll your eyes at him letting him continue. "I actually wanted to ask you something."
Your heart does a backflip, which seems like the only thing it's been doing lately.
"Go for it." You tell him.
Before Quinn responds, you watch as he pulls his headphones off and look off in the distance. He's talking to someone on the other side of the phone, so you take another moment to admire him. The way he listens intently to whoever it is he's talking to you, how his eyes don't look away until he's finished talking.
He makes it easy for you to remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.
"What are you doing right now?" He asks once his attention is back on you. You let out a laugh, pulling your phone closer to your face. "I'm waiting for that question you wanted to ask me." You say in a 'duh' tone.
Quinn laughs, following your own actions and pulling his phone closer to his face. You can't help but stare at his lips, reminiscing how they felt against your own.
"Oh yeah, I'm flying you out to Jersey. To watch me and my brothers play. Well," He pauses, "Just Luke actually, Jack's out with an injury, but mom and Luke would love for you to be there."
"That wasn't a question, Quinn. And what about Jim?" You tease, and Quinn smiles again. "Jim is Jim. So, you'll be there?"
You shrug your shoulders, looking over at your computer that still has the email from your boss on the screen.
"I already bought the flight and the hotel, and it's" Another pause, "10:45 right now. Your flight is tomorrow at 9 in the morning, and you'll get to Jersey some time in the evening. I have a driver picking you up." A final pause, Quinn catches his breath. "It's all taken care of." He says softly.
It's times like this, where you remember Quinn has money. Where he's willing to spend a lot of money for you to be anywhere with him, but with the sweet gesture comes curiosity and you can't help but wonder if he's done things like this for her.
A part of you wants to tell him no. You have your own life in Vancouver. Your job, half-assed plans that you'd already made with your friends, you can't always drop everything for Quinn. But he knows you better than he knows hockey. He knows you'll be there.
"I guess I should start packing then, yeah?" His smile grows wider, "Will you text me when you're boarding?" He asks, and you nod your head 'yes'
The both of you stare at each other through your screens. Silently admiring each other. Secretly acknowledging how easy it is for you two to be together.
Once you hang up, you immediately run to your closet. Most of the items hanging up are Quinns. Hoodies, t-shirts, old jersey and even a couple of suits that he's left after late nights and early mornings. "What's mine is his" You think to yourself. You start throwing in a mix of yours and his clothes.
New Jersey is a cold state, something you'd learned the hard way after a failed trip a few years ago. You'd insisted that you didn't need to bring a winter coat on your trip because you already live in a cold climate, you were used to the cold. Quinn reminded you how you were always cold, and that you'd definitely needed to bring your coat, but like a stubborn child, you'd ignored him. "I'll be fine," You had told him, and instead of arguing, he let you figure it out on your own.
You stare at the winter coat hanging up. The winter coat Quinn had ended up buying you because he had gotten tired of you stealing his.
And it's almost like he's listening to your thoughts, sharing your memory even though he's thousands of miles away, because once your phone dings and you look down at your home screen, you see Quinn has reminded you to make sure to bring your winter coat.
424 notes · View notes