#I love seeing stuff that’s usually over water being under water

[bellasprettywords]

So High School pt. II (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: This little one shot is the continuation for So High School, I really hope you guys enjoy it

As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person

My masterlist

Warnings: Just fluff and kissing

Word count: 813

y/n – your name

Part 1

Saturday finally came around, and you were a little too excited about your date with Reid; you finished tying up and prepping the living room, making sure you had enough blankets, cushions, and snacks, so everything could go perfectly. Once again, the feeling of being sixteen, and having your first hang out after school with the guy you were crushing on invaded your whole body, and made your stomach flutter with excitement, when suddenly, you heard a buzzing from the intercom.

“Hi, y/n, this is Spencer… Reid!” you heard the young doctor stutter nervously, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy

“Hi, let me buzz you in, and you already know the way up” you said trying to sound cool, and collected, but pretty sure that the huge smile on your face sounded through the intercom. After a couple of minutes, you heard a soft knocking on your door, you opened it and the gorgeous Doctor was leaning over the door frame, holding a small cardboard box.

“I brought pie! You know, because we are watching American Pie, I’m not sure what the movie is about, but if it’s about pies we are prepared” Spencer said, handing you the little box with a huge grin, with his cheeks turning bight pink

“Thank you, wow, that’s lovely, although there are not that many pies in American Pie… it actually the expression… well, you’ll see, please come on in” you said chuckling. Gosh! He really was the sweetest man in the whole world, and you just couldn’t believe that you’d have him all by yourself for at least a couple of hours

“Please take a sit wherever you’d like” you said motioning to your couch, “And, would you like anything to drink? I’ve got water, soda, tea, juice, and coffee, although it may be kinda late for coffee, you know?” you asked Spencer walking into the kitchen

“Actually, coffee was great, I’d take it with five sugars, please” he said, taking a look around your apartment living room, making you a little nervous about him profiling you through the stuff that’s lying around in the room

“Damn Doctor Reid, and you wonder why you can’t stop shaking” you said chuckling to hide the fact that you were nervous about having your crush at home. You sat down on the couch handing Spencer his coffee, and trying to shake away the nervousness that the situation created for you: you were alone, in your apartment, with the guy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years, but you were always too shy to admit it.

You played the movie and for the first fifteen minutes the two of you were completely immobile, but as the jokes progressed, you could feel Spencer and yourself moving closer and closer to each other. In the blink of an eye, you were cuddling under a blanket with your face leaned on Spencer’s shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, softly caressing your arm.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” you asked, looking up at the guy whose arms you were wrapped on

“Tell me” he said, looking into your eyes sweetly

“This date definitely reminds me of high school dates, you know, just hanging out watching a movie, although, those date usually ended with heavy make out sessions” you said jokingly and Spencer gulped loudly

“I… I wouldn’t know, I graduated from high school at 12, so I didn’t really have any dates with my peers” he said looking a bit embarrassed maybe?

“Oh, well, you didn’t miss much, I mean, dates pretty much went like this, although…” you said sitting up straight on the couch and Spencer gave you a puzzled look; you knew this was your chance, and you were going to take it. You leaned slowly towards Spencer, caressing his cheek with your hand, as you felt him leaning closer to you

“Is it okay if I…?” you started asking, but were quickly interrupted by Spencer’s lips, merging sweetly into yours. You moved your hands to his head, where you caressed Spencer’s curls, and you felt him placing his hands to your waist, making you sit closer to him as the kiss progressed. Spencer swiftly pulled you over his lap, and you gave a small bite to his lower lip, which gave Spencer the green light to insert his tongue into your mouth and move his hands from your waist, to your lower back

“Thank you” Spencer said in between kissed, which made you pull away from him to understand what was going on, so he went on “You know, for giving me the High School experience I missed out on” he said with a small smile forming into his lips

“You don’t have to thank me, but I’ll take another kiss” you said jokingly and Spencer leaned once more, kissing you tenderly

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Home from college, your father is Joel’s neighbor. Joel one night witnesses your drunk father lock you out of the house late at night and comes to the rescue. ]

“Let me take a look at your arm” he turned back to you for the first time seeing you under a light realizing your white tank top became transparent. The sight of your hard nipples peeking through making him quickly look away clearing his throat.

Sexual tension, big age difference

Summer was finally here which meant you were finally on break and able to go back home. You loved being at back at home, most of the time even if it meant seeing your drunk father who wasn’t the easiest man to get along with. It was hard to understand how he got along with your neighbor Joel, you didn’t know him very well but he was your typical southern gentleman. Always offered to help you get your stuff out the car if your dad wasn’t around when he’d see you return, it’d be hard to lie and say you didn’t have a small crush on him.

That night was like any other, except it was pouring rain out, it was thundering loudly and your father was more drunk than usual. Your father had a few men come over that you’d never met before, you could feel their eyes all over you when you walked to the kitchen for some water. The music getting louder you could barely hide from it in your room. All the noise felt like a typical night in your dorm room with parties next door.

“Dad” you hesitantly tapped on his shoulder as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’m sorry, but do you mind lowering the music just a bit? I was hoping to get some sleep, I already have had a lot of trouble sleeping and-“

“Listen here kid…..this is what I do while you’re off in college….i ain’t stopping just cause you’re here” he purposely turned the music louder as he laughed with his friends. Annoyed by his actions you walked to your bedroom and slammed your door shut which quickly silenced his laughter. Throwing yourself in your bed you were startled by your father busting through the door.

“And who do you think you are slamming doors in my house?!”

“Dad-“

“You know…-“ he began to slur.

“It was so much…better….when you weren’t here…” he continued as you noticed the men watching from down the hall.

“This is not what I came here for” you whispered angrily.

“What did you say?” He raised a brow leaning towards you as you quickly walked around him out of your room. You walking away from him only seem to anger him more as he quickly caught up to you and grabbed you by your arm.

“Ow dad! Let go!” You tried to release your arm from his grasp until he began dragging you to the front door.

“Stop it! What are you doing?!”

“You wanna disrespect me in my house….in front of my guests…-“ he opened the door and continued to yell not knowing Joel was out side under his balcony next door, the sound of your father yelling catching his attention.

“Maybe next time…you’ll have more respect!”Unexpectedly your father pushed you out making you fall to the ground. Joel quickly stood up but before you could say a word your father slammed the door in your face.

“Dad!” You screamed in shock, you couldn’t believe what he was doing. Joel quickly made his way to you, the sound of his voice surprising you through the hard rain.

“You alright?” He reached his hand out towards you. Silently you took hold of it, he easily pulled you up to your feet as you winced noticing your elbow was pretty badly scraped.

“That’s alright” Joel looked at your arm.

“I can clean that up for ya, darlin’”

Still in shock staring at your door you didn’t respond. Did your father really just lock you out? In the rain late at night?

“My-my dad-“

“Come on, let’s get you inside” Joel didn’t waste time, taking your hand he led you next door to his house as you looked back at yours.

It was warm out but the rain was coming down hard and so you became completely drenched. Joel quickly unlocked his door letting you in as you hesitantly walked in not wanting to wet his floor.

“It’s alright” he placed his hand on your back gently guiding you to the kitchen. It didn’t seem like anyone was home yet you still felt awkward.

You felt embarrassed but Joel only seemed concerned. Still, what a way for your neighbor to see you getting thrown onto the concrete like if you were trash.

“Look I’m sorry about this, he’s just drunk right now, I’m sure he’ll open the door again-“

“Ain’t a bother, darlin’” he proceeded to turn on the lights and go through his drawer for a band aid and towel for you.

“Let me take a look at your arm” he turned back to you for the first time seeing you under a light realizing your white tank top became transparent. The sight of your hard nipples peeking through making him quickly look away clearing his throat.

“You ok?” You asked him as he refused to look back walking toward his room.

“Let me get you a change of clothes” he called out walking in his room before quickly returning with a pair of sweats and a t shirt of his.

“The bathroom is down to your right” he motioned towards the door as you thanked him taking the clothes.

Once in the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror realizing your breasts were fully visible through your shirt.

“Oh my god” you whispered, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red from embarrassment. No wonder he offered you a change of clothes.

A part of you thinking it was sweet he didn’t say a thing and embarrass you, instead simply offering you something to change in. Even sweet how he stopped himself from looking but little did you know how hard it was for him to keep his eyes away.

Joel always had a gentleman charm about him, it was your favorite thing about him.

Once you came out of the bathroom Joel was sitting on the edge of the couch watching something on tv until you caught his eye. Looking down and fixing your shirt you hadn’t noticed the way he was looking at you. Joel didn’t know what was worse for him, your transparent shirt or seeing you in his clothes. A navy blue shirt that you tied to the side and a pair of sweatpants that were giving you some trouble to tie and stay in place.

“These are comfortable” you sighed looking up as he stood up.

“I’m just having trouble keeping them in place”

“Yeah, those always give me trouble. C’mere” he walked towards you grabbing the strap to help you fix it. You hadn’t expected him to get so close, you watched as he focused trying to create a knot so it wouldn’t move. His fingers casually brushing against your skin making your heart race. His hair was damp slick back from the rain, a way you had never seen before but you had to admit you liked the look.

“That should do it” he looked up and just for a few seconds the two of you locked eyes before he quickly looked away.

“Thank you” you smiled as he took a few steps back and sat back on the couch.

“Look don’t worry, I won’t be here for long…I know Sarah-“

“Sarah’s at a sleepover, Tommy’s working a night shift. You’re welcome to stay as long as ya need tonight…beside I saw what he did and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back till he sobers up” he crossed his arms leaning back.

“I don’t even know what got into him, then those assholes that were there-“

“What assholes?” He furrowed his brows leaning forward.

“He bought some losers over, guess they found the way he was acting towards me hilarious” Joel showed disapproval with what you expressed looking back out his window toward your house.

“I never seen this side of your father but frankly…I don’t like it” he spoke in a serious tone. Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off your house seeing your father through the window laughing with his friends.

“Alcohol and my father is probably the worst combination” you responded as he remained silent.

Lost in his thoughts he was suddenly distracted by you laughing looking over at the tv.

“Oh I haven’t seen this movie in forever” Joel watched as you excitedly sat down on the couch beside him, surprised you were into something he liked.

“Mind if we stay watching this?” You asked looking up at him.

“Course not, darlin’” he comfortably sat back with his legs open watching the movie with you. Joel could see the sadness in your eyes although you tried to use the movie as a distraction. He didn’t push the topic and decided to enjoy the movie with you.

“How’s your arm?” He asked realizing you had cleaned it up in the bathroom.

“It’s fine, nothing big just a scratch” you assured him as you sighed and went back to the movie.

Time went by and before you knew it your eyes grew heavy. Joel and you both closing your eyes around the same time without realizing it before eventually falling asleep.

Hours had gone by and Joel slowly began to wake up realizing the sun was coming up. Still half asleep he went to move before realizing you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder, your hand on his arm until you began to slowly move. Your eyes slowly opening you suddenly realized that you were leaning on Joel, slowly looking up you found him staring down at you. Neither of you said a word, neither of you moved yet you noticed him look down at your lips. Joel slowly began to lean forward as you did when the sound of the front door unlocking caused you both to quickly separate.

“Mornin’ big brother” Tommy walked in before realizing his brother wasn’t alone. You stood up still looking half asleep fixing your shirt.

“Good mornin’” Tommy said in a surprised tone.

“Good morning, I…um I better go..” you quickly grabbed your clothes.

“You sure?” Joel asked following your movement.

“Yeah, I’m sure the doors open now or he’s sober. I’ll be fine” you assured him quickly pacing to the door.

“Hey- why don’t ya take my cell number in case ya need anythin’” quickly he grabbed a paper and pen as Tommy watched from the kitchen.

“Ok, yeah, thanks” you took the paper and smiled at him.

“Thanks again. I better go” Joel stood at the door watching you run to your porch, waiting to see your father open the door. His expression changing as he watched to make sure you were safe with your father until the door closed behind you.

“Micks daughter huh?” Tommy teased as Joel closed the door.

“It ain’t like that” he responded without looking at him.

“Really she spent the night, seems like it was like that.”

“She got locked out her house, her father’s a jackass. I just made sure she was ok through the night” Joel rubbed his eyes sitting back on the couch.

“Oh I’m sure you did” Tommy laughed before walking off to the room.

Truth was Joel knew he felt something more but you were young in college, something felt wrong about it.

Plus the last thing he wanted you to think was that he was taking advantage with the situation you had going on with your father.

Joel shook it off knowing nothing could come from that until his phone buzzed catching his attention.

Much quicker than he expected, there was a text from you thanking him again. Now he had your number and it only excited him more..

I will be working on a part 2 if you have any ideas let me know!

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Op characters with a clingy/handsy drunk? let's go

suggestive in Sanjis, Luffy, Brooks, DEFINITELY in Namis and Frankys and maybe Usopps? Mostly vague stuff, on that note would you guys actually be interested in like nsfw stuff? I know I'm really toeing the line here and i have drafts but I'm nervous to post😭.

Feel like this could be ooc in some places but who cares😻(me :()

Luffy

Giggles a lot, he finds it so cute and it really makes him feel warm in his chest. He can't get enough of you to be honest. Like this man loves physical touch but be warned he will think it's a sudden new level in your 'friendship'(read:in love with each other) and start acting that affectionate all the time. Willing to carry you around and also wrap himself around you so you can walk with him just there, yes this includes to the bathroom-

Zoro

Adores it. I think he actually loves affection and physical touch but just doesn't say it because he thinks it's obvious (it's not). So when you come up to him, wobbly and on your 6th drink, and just practically throw yourself into his arms hes just like :/). Makes sure you stay nice and close to him because he doesn't want you clinging to anyone else, and he always makes sure you drink water before bed even if bed involves falling asleep on top of him.

Sanji

Makes him nervous to be honest. Usually he's the forward one in the relationship but here you are untucking his shirt just to shove your hands up it. He absolutely will shriek if its in front of other people, and he's trying to wrangle your grabby hands but he really enjoys it so his resolve is so weak. Tries to satiate you by being affectionate back but it just makes you worse and he ends up taking you to a more private area so he at least doesn't have to blush in front of others.

Nami

She thinks it's so cute. Let's you do whatever you want as long as the people around you are comfortable and you've said it's fine(when sober ofc), but she doesn't really care about people seeing until you start trying to either get undressed or undress her and then she takes you to a private space because she's ever so slightly possessive. Listen for a girl who didn't have much, you add a lot of value to her life and she wants to treasure you properly, she doesn't trust anyone else to appreciate you the way you deserve.

Usopp

Surprisingly confident. You come up to him with this big dreamy smile and you're practically falling over yourself so he just- scoops you up. Front piggyback style yk, he's got one arm under your ass supporting your weight and the other one is holding his drink, listen this mf is strong okay you think a man who can build a boat isn't strong? Fool. He just lets you do what you want to be honest, one of your hands is tucked in his back pocket, the other is trying and failing to undo his overalls and he's just like "You okay honey?".

Robin

She's flustered. She's not that used to physical affection so it makes her really giggly and blushy, though she's still quite confident in her words and actions, she's fr twirling her hair around her finger. She has quite a high tolerance for alcohol but she actually gets a bit similar when she's drunk, she's more reserved of course but she just melts into you like butter on a hot pan. The crew always take so many pictures because they think it's so cute, literally every celebration you two just end up cuddling and then it sorta turns into a big cuddle pile with the crew because seeing her relax gets them emotional.

Franky

Oh baby you are looking in a mirror. He is just as bad if not worse- when he gets drunk he is a massive flirt and a massive tease. He's so giving in relationships and usually you don't have to ask twice but being drunk will mean he wants you to practically beg for a kiss. Half because he thinks it's funny and half because he's a horny bastard- Though if you get upset then he immediately drops the teasing, even when drunk he's so considerate of your feelings and your boundaries.

Brook

Doesn't mind at all but prefers to be in private when you're like this.

Quick headcannon that his bones are more sensitive than skin because there's less external protection-

Lets just say one time you touched a sensitive area in public and he will never get over the reaction he had or the fact that other people saw it. So you go to room jail as soon as you start trying to practically crawl inside his clothes to be as close as possible. He's not mad though, he giggles the entire way, he's just very shy about his interests.

Jinbei

Flustered as hell but makes him feel really secure in your relationship. Also, he lowkey loves being able to bring it up to tease you later, like he pulls an uno reverse when you're sober and you're just like omg omg omg- He's a sneaky guy fr, does so many unexpected things in a relationship. Don't get me wrong though he'd never let you do anything inappropriate, even when drunk he's very aware of boundaries and social etiquette so if he notices you getting a bit grabby then he takes you somewhere private for both your benefit and the people around you.

Sabo

Oh baby. This man is feral don't even start. The first time he experiences it, it's actually really unexpected, it's quite early in your relationship so you havent been too affectionate yet, but you come up to him and just sit down. On him. And you can practically see his brain melting out of his ears, his face goes so red you think he's going to pass out but the second you stand up, drunk and lowkey sad, he snatches you back down. You wanted to sit there, you are going to sit there now you have no choice. (You do but would you want to get up?)

Ace

Menace. Cannot even state how much of a menace. He's so physically affectionate that it usually flusters even the most confident people, and this is while sober, so if you start getting clingy when drunk he just becomes obsessed. But he absolutely hates it if you're like that with other people so once you start getting to that stage then he's whisking you away to your shared room, usually you stick to him like glue anyways but the crew love to wind him up by coaxing you away from him with food and funny stories.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

[s41l0rm00nz]

can u do a Miguel O’Hara fic where we peg n babygirl him and just spoil him 😩😩

Massage Therapy

miguel o’hara x reader

sypnosis: miguel is stressed from a long day of being spiderman and what better way to relieve that than by giving him a massage?

cw: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, pegging, miguel is babygirl (and stressed), soft dom!reader, beefy man getting a massage from his gf, afab reader, reader uses a strap, fingering (male receiving bc prep is important!!), miguel gets oiled up (i’d pay to see that irl), miguel has a praise kink that goes both ways, miguel calls reader mami bc thats hot idc., also u both speak spanish (miguel more than reader (had to use google translate 🙏 so pardon any mistakes.)), no specified looks for y/n, kinda short after care?? idk, big strong men r always submissive at heart, u guys were in the shower for a little bit, these r a lot of cw

jay i’ve been procrastinatin mb stink hope u like this xx

miguel sighed as he grabbed the spare key under his front doormat. He was sweating, his muscles ached and he couldn’t help but groan as he entered his apartment.

his mind was clouded with sleep and the intention of getting to his partner as his large frame walked towards the bathroom, already hearing running water from the shower he slipped in. the mirror was covered in steam and miguel quickly undressed.

he pulled the shower curtain back, a scream irrupted from the girl in the shower. “fuck, miguel!” she gasped, a hand was over her heart as miguel chuckled.

“lo siento, mi amor..” he grinned, cracking his back and stepping under the shower stream and sighing pleasantly. he grabbed her love handles, head handing low as the shower water rushed over him “te extrañé, mi vida.”

she hummed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips when he bent down. “i missed you too,” grabbing the soap she squirted some into her hand then took the time to rub it all over her body. “how was saving the universe?” she smiled

“día agotador. as usual. today was… more tame though.” he cracked his back before moving her under the stream and stepping back.

“jesus, miguel.” she cringed at his loud cracking. “when was the last time you had a massage?” she washed the soap off her diligently, brows furrowed as she tried to look at miguel through the water.

he sucked in his breath, the dates becoming to cluttered to remember. y/n huffed through her nose.

“you need to take better care of yourself if y’re going to be doing this spider-man stuff.” she reprimanded, clicking her tongue while her eyes narrowing at him, clearly upset from the way he was ‘taking care’ of himself.

“m’sorry.” he groaned quietly, snaking his hands around her waist. “let me help you, mi hermosa..” he soothed, washing off any left over soap on her to help get back in her good graces. his rough hands smoothed over her body with precision, gripping her ass when he was done.

y/n leaned into his touch, “one of these days i’m gunna give you a massage, hun. your knots have knots.” she could feel the stress and pain in his shoulders from where she was standing. “you deserve it,” she turned grabbed the soap and sprayed some in her hands. she roamed and mapped out his body, watching the way it glistens up his body with desire.

“i’ll keep your word for it.” he gave her a cheeky grin, fangs flashing.

you were always one to live up to your promises.

“okay, qué están haciendo?” miguel asked with a little chuckle. “i’m at your mercy, mi amor.” he was sat on the bed, no clothes on with a smirk on his face

“put your head here and relax for me, miguel.” y/n patted a singular pillow on the edge of the bed, trying not to stare at every bit of him. once he settled she grabbed the massage oil, rubbed it in her hands then began to spread it along miguel’s body.

in all his glory miguel layed in your shared bed, naked and lathered in oil. his face was smooshed into a pillow as y/n worked methodically on his back muscles. she gasped at the knots she felt under his skin.

“y’re so tense, miguel. you’ve been working so hard, hm?” every crack, push, and movement with y/n’s hands had miguel moaning with pleasure.

“joder, mami. you feel so good.” he sighed into the pillow, letting out a deep groan when she touched a specific spot. “fuck-“

“feels good doesn’t it?” her voice was sultry when she whispered in his ear, enjoying the way he shivered. “my big mans’ been working day and night. maybe i should’ve done this sooner.” she grinned, cracking a spot on his back that had him moaning loud.

“ah..-“ he moaned. “ay dios mío- yes that feels good so good, mi amor.” his voice was shaky, “that was the spot.”

“good, good..” she mumbled, her massages traveled down to his lower back to a spot she knew was sore. she pressed down and heard a good crack come out. every moan or noise he made was like singing praises to her. this was about miguel tonight.

“you know me so well, love. you’re like an angel right now-“ his voice and compliments became more broken the more he massage. “s-so good.” miguel could already feel himself becoming way less tense the more she worked. but there was still another tense spot he was starting to sport, and it was hard not to notice.

“jeez, miguel.” y/n snickered, feeling miguel up as she smoothed her hands over his back. “that good, huh?”

all miguel could do was grumble, “well-“ he sighed. “i do have an incredibly beautiful lady on top of me-“ he moaned when she massaged his shoulders. “so i’m just- responding to that.” he grinned.

“very responsive, indeed.” she teased, “want me to take care of that for you?” she smoothed her hand over his ass.

“i wouldn’t say no to that.” miguel chuckled, “love it when you take care of me like that..”

“i know you do.” she hummed.

…

“y’know..” she trailed off, grabbing the oil and dabbing some on her hand. “we haven’t filled this up in a while..” she traced and rimmed his hole, the smile on her face was almost contagious.

“you’re a tease.” miguel snorted. “but you’re right, we haven’t.” he relaxed deeply into the pillow. “makes me wonder what else will be joining us tonight..” he laugh was deep in his chest, grinning at the idea they shared.

“well, tonight is about you. wouldn’t be bad if i took care of other places then your back.” she pushed a finger in slightly before removing it.

“oh my,” he sucked in a breath. “well if the offers on the table, i would like the sound of that.” he chuckled.

“it is definitely on the table,” she peppered kissed along his back, staying in a few spots as she pushed her finger in slowly. “i need to prep you though first, okay?”

“soy todo tuyo, mami. do what you must.” his voice shook with a groan, relaxing more and more into the bed as she fingered him. he let out a deep whine as she curled one finger.

“m’gunna add another, okay?” she removed her finger and watched as his hole gaped slightly as she added oil to her middle and point. she slowly pushed into his hole again, his moans egging her on to go deeper.

she pulled out her fingers and right as they were about to escape she pushed them back in. “you’re so tight, miguel. ease up a little.” she massaged his thigh with his other hand, she fingered him slowly, moving her fingers in a beckoning motion.

“fuck- oh, cariño, te sientes tan bien.” miguel mumbled, his cock rutting slowly into the bed.

y/n snorted, pulling out slowly. she got up and went into their closet, shuffling around before finding a shoe box with plenty of things shuffling around in it. she opened it up and grabbed a particular item before stalking back towards miguel’s submissive figure. she fixed the strap-on to herself before settling back into her original position and spread his cheeks.

“this is going to hurt a little.” she mumbled into his ear, voicing soothing. “but you can take it, miguel. you always do.” she praised, rubbing oil on the strap-on then lining it up his hole. she placed soft kisses all along him as she pushed in, his breathing was heavy while his moans turned into soft whines of pain and pleasure from the depths of his throat.

once she was settled she pulled out slowly. going all the way to only the tip in then slamming in him at a medium pace in prone bone position.

he was slowly falling apart on her cock, fangs bared and claws clinging to the sheets and throaty groans unraveled from his mouth. each thrust was deep, prodding at his deepest parts. a hand was on his lower back to not only keep him in place but to hit farther, to that specific spot that had him screaming all those nights ago and it was y/n’s mission to get him to that point. she wanted to spear him on her cock like how he’s done for her. she sung praises in his ear, enjoying his pleads and fuss on how good it feels. how much he needed this. how much he loves you.

it was all sweet, y/n snaked her hand under him to toy with his cock, rubbing her thumb over the tip and using his precum to jerk him off. it was intimate, what miguel craved for.

“e-estoy cerca de correrme,” miguel stuttered out. “i’m close- so close, cariño.” his hips shook with fevor as y/n’s pace of thrust became faster.

“go ahead, mi amor.” she kissed him gently, slipping her tongue inside him as he started to come. “that’s it.” she whispered, finding joy in his moans as her thrust lackadaisically slowed. “doing so good for me, let all your stress leave.”

she let him catch his breath before pulling out. he whined at the feeling, bucking his hips deeper into the sheets. “roll over for me, love.” she kissed his shoulders gently, helping him roll over before taking off her strap-on. she made her way to the kitchen and filled a glass with water to give to him.

“that felt amazing, mi amor..” he stretched gently, sitting up against the headboard and drinking the water.

as he drunk the cooling liquid she used a warm rag to wipe wherever his cum sprayed along with the sheets, mumbling how she’ll wash them in the morning. she placed soft kisses along his back and chest, smoothing her hands over every battle scar and mumbling praises into his skin.

…

“did you enjoy yourself?” his words were soft as he pulled her close to him.

“of course i enjoyed myself, i was taking care of you.” she said in a light voice, kissing still trailing along his skin.

“mhmmm, you always know how to make me feel good.” his voice was hoarse and his hands were lazily trailing her body. “you’re simply the best.”

she grinned at his compliments. “are you trying to butter me up right now?”

“maybe, is my flattery working?”

“nope.” she chuckled. “are you aching anymore?”

“no, i feel a whole lot better actually.” he shuffled under the blankets with her, enjoying the warmth they shared. “gracias, amor mío.”

“for what?”

“por todo eso. i needed it.”

“of course, mi niño grande.”

…

“what?”

[daydreamingyuta]

Sweet Kisses | Mark Lee

summary: fluff, drabble, sweet kisses from bf!mark on a picnic date wc: 714

You finish the last strawberry and set down the stem in the little bag Mark brought for the trash. He had set up a picnic date in a private part of the park that you both found by chance a few weeks prior. It doesn't have a view of the pond that you always liked to visit, but there was nobody around which offered some peace and quiet. 

Thinking of how serene this date was made you realize that Mark hasn’t said anything in a minute. You look over at him and he’s very clearly basking in the sun, with his eyes closed. “You look like a cat.” His eyes flutter open at your words and he looks at you, smiling. “You always compare me to a cat.” 

You nod your head in agreement, “You’re a very cat-like man.”

He scrunches his nose at the comparison, “Cheetah.” He says, matter-of-factly. Usually you would pretend to argue with him, but since he took you on this beautiful picnic date, you were feeling nice so you let him have this one. “Ok, you’re a cheetah who very cutely basks in the sun.”

“See, was that so hard to admit?” He asks as he scoots closer to you, making the space in between you two nonexistent. You hum in response and he tilts his head, looking at you with the most loving eyes, and playing with the hem of your dress. “You know, you wore my favorite dress.” His words were unexpected and made you blush slightly. You had only worn it around him a few times, but each time ended with his lips inseparable from yours, proving that he very much did like this dress on you. “I didn’t think you noticed I was wearing it.”

“Of course I did, baby.” He leans in to you and gives you the softest kiss, just barely brushing against your lips. He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes for a moment before his hand meets your cheek. “You know, I think I’m like kinda obsessed with you right now, y/n.” He says, before kissing you again with more intensity. “…I mean I’m always obsessed with you, but you just-” His hands bury themselves more into your hair as he cuts himself off mid sentence giving you more kisses, “-just look so good.” His attention shifts slightly from your lips as he travels down to your neck, peppering you with a million more kisses. “and you smell so good.” 

He pulls away from the kiss and strokes your cheek, still looking at you with so much love in his eyes. “You always blush when I compliment you, baby.” He whispers to you, making the same face he always does when he’s teasing you. 

“Of course I do, you make me feel all… pretty and stuff.” You say, slightly out of breath. Your words set him off again, clearly not ready to let his lips part from yours. In this moment, you’re both in heaven. Nothing matters except the two of you, so in love that your minds are incapable of thinking of anything else.

The moment is interrupted though, when you hear a clanging noise. Mark was insistent on getting as close to you as possible, which caused the perfectly placed blanket under you to get bunched up, which then caused his water bottle to fall over. He breaks apart from you and looks over at it, making sure it was nothing important. 

You both wanted nothing more than to go back to the moment before, but the reality of what you were doing sets in, causing you both to laugh. Making out in a public park was a tad bit scandalous, especially because anyone could come into sight at any point.

You both wordlessly agree to try and contain yourselves as Mark rests his head on your shoulder. “Really though, you started it. You know I love that dress on you.”

You try to deny his words, but you knew what you were doing when you put it on this morning. There was just something in the way that Mark kissed you that was so addicting, you couldn’t help but want more, and he always gave you what you wanted, being just as addicted as you are.

[k-hotchoisan]

hii just wanted to say i love your writing and youre sooo good at describing stuff 😭😭

could u do a yunho oneshot based on or inspired by the song under the influence by chris brown? 🫠🫠🫠

Of course princess! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET iM BLUSHING \(//∇//)\ + requesting this lil prompt hohoho 😮‍💨🌶️❤️

Also that’s a rEALLY good song for Yunho 😏😏

Enjoy ✨

Synopsis: where Yunho realises he doesn’t need tussin to get high when he can get high off fucking you.

Word count: 2.1K

Genre/Warnings: fuck buddies but feelings are there just in denial, Drabble, one shot, smut, pwp, sexual brain rot, !mentioned drug use for medical purposes (please DO NOT take cough syrups unnecessarily + keeping his dose AS MINIMAL as possible), riding, praise kink, yunho’s big fucking cock, multiple orgasms, cream pies, squirting, you and Yunho are so fucking whipped for each other actually.

The world around Yunho spins as he feels pretty fucked and heavy from the tussin. He intended to take molly after that to prepare for the party, but the codeine fucking hits him, and it was only slight dose above the usual 10ml he takes for his coughs, not that he wanted to, so he decides to forgo the other drugs for another party or something. He felt pretty fucking high, but at least his irritating burning throat is suppressed.

He doesn’t want to let it override his consciousness—not yet, especially not when he sees your silhouette walking over to him, and when you come into view, you were just in his oversized tank, your legs bare, fresh out of his shower.

Yunho’s breaths grow heavier, as the only thing swimming through his mind was wanting to fuck you into whatever the nearest furniture was. His cock twitches underneath his sweats just thinking about it.

His heart races, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the syrup or because you’re just there—just drying your hair with one of his towels he lent you—he watches as drops of water falls from the tips of your fringe right onto your collarbone, as it slides down right into the dip of your cleavage. This just kills whatever Yunho was trying to rationale in his head as he swallows hard. He knows he’s fucking whipped for you, he just doesn’t want to fucking admit it.

You plop beside him as you leave the towel on a back of a chair. You move forward to pick up the remote control to flip through the channels, but Yunho stops you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but once your eyes meet his, his eyes looks pretty glazed.

“Yunho, are you crying?” You ask, still confused at first until your gaze glances at the coffee table, noticing the bottle of tussin on the coffee table.

There we go.

By the time you realigned your focus on him, Yunho is just staring right at your cleavage, like the fucking pervert he is.

“Your cough acting up again?” You ask again, since he doesn’t reply, but this time he responds, nodding slowly with his eyes shut.

“Do you need lozenges?” You offer, ready to dig through his apartment cabinets because you know he has them there, somewhere.

“I need to fuck you”, he replies, his eyes just tunnelling to you. You blink at him in disbelief before a smile cracks your face.

“Do you?” You tease.

He nods frantically. Your eyes lower to his crotch, and shit, it was stained, and there was definitely his cock just pressing so painfully against the fabric. And it doesn’t make your case any better.

His hands travel to your waist as he pulls you over to straddle his lap. You don’t want to let him know your panties were starting to soak through but the moment you attempted to avoid sitting anywhere his crotch, he already knows, because he pulls you in, and makes sure his clothed dick is sitting right below your cunt.

His hands snake to the back of your head as he pulls you in for a sloppy, deep kiss. You taste the sickeningly sweet favour of the cough syrup but the way he’s groaning in your mouth, desperate for your taste, only excites you even more. It‘s the only thing he craves.

Fuck buddies, yeah right. It was definitely developing more than that. At first it was just all fun and games, and as the both of begin to meet more often, it became a unanimous and unspoken decision to be exclusive fuck buddies, because it seemed that no one else was as compatible as the both of you were for each other.

His fingers find your nipples under the loose tank top and it almost sends him in a frenzy. He loves how your nipples are hardening instantaneously under his touch and your soft moans are just melody to his ears.

He can’t wait because it’s getting too painful for him, especially when he’s under the influence. He pushes you aside for a moment to pull off his sweats, and as you cock your eyebrow in surprise when you realise he wasn’t wearing underwear. The hem of his sweats brush against his hard and leaking cock, and a whimper leaves his lips, as more precum oozes out from his tip. Holy shit, he’s really sensitive.

Your panties are swiftly removed by him when his attention turns to you. He doesn’t want to be rough with you, and he usually isn’t, but as he’s fighting against the high, it’s taking all of his strength not to be feral with you.

And you’re back straddling his lap, just wanting to tease him a little more, since you love seeing him in this state—he almost begging to fuck you, especially since both your bare sex are just brushing against each other.

“Y/n, please. Fuck. Let me fuck you, please”, he whimpers, stroking his cock with his long and pretty fingers against your leaking cunt.

You don’t reply, but your hands are flat on each sides his shoulder; as you lower yourself down onto his thick ass cock. You sigh as he buries himself into you, and your thighs tremble from how much his thick cock is stretching you out. Yunho, on the other hand, is barely keeping it together, because the moment his tip goes in, his sigh develops into a full blown, long drawn moan as more him penetrates into you.

“Ffffuckkkkk”, his octaves go up pitch, face nuzzling against your neck, nipping at your neck and shoulders. “Why the fuck do you always feel so fucking good, y/n?”

Your only response to him is another lift from your hips before slamming down—sending your mind into a spiral of pleasure as your eyes roll back. You catch your breath to peak at Yunho’s reaction, and boy, is he already fucked out of his mind at the second stroke, evident by the blush on his cheeks and the way he’s panting so hard, mixed with his whines and whimpers.

His hands are gripping onto your hips hard enough to leave light red imprints, that’s for sure. Everything for Yunho is enhanced, no thanks to mixture, so the pleasure he feels is probably up by ten notches at least.

You start rocking your hips, as Yunho’s dickgrinds against your tight walls, sending a fuckton of pleasing signals across your body, absolutely fucking euphoric, considering how much his cockhead is pressing so disgustingly good deep inside you, and how his cock is bulging a little from how big he is. Not only was he erect, he was high and erect, and it’s the first time you feel so fucking full of his cock, right up to the brim—that was how aroused this fucker was.

Yunho’s head falls back onto the back of couch, one of his hands gripping the back of your neck, and the other tightening against the sheer fabric of your top. He can’t help himself from doing it—bucking his hips up to meet yours, making you full on bounce on his cock, causing your whines to turn into screams within seconds.

“That’s it, keep doing that. Fuck. So fucking good”, he doesn’t realise that he’s doing it himself, which amuses you but your sanity is slowly being ripped away at every thrust he pushes into you.

“God, imagine if we filmed this, that would be the best fucking sex tape. I would cum, over, and over again just remembering how much your pussy is squeezing me out like this”, he suddenly says, and that goes directly to your pussy, which causes Yunho to moan at the unintentional action.

As much as he was so fucked over, it didn’t seem like he was going to cum any time soon. Was it the influence, the exhaustion? You aren’t very sure but that is the last thing that shifts to your mind, especially when Yunho is fucking you from below so desperately.

The knot in your stomach tugs as your orgasm builds at every time Yunho’s cockhead pushes against your g-spot. His eyes are now locked onto yours, and he knows you’re close just from the way you’re twitching around his length, like he always does. He licks a stripe up his thumb and trails it down to your clit as you adjust yourself on him, and he never breaks eye contact. If anything, there’s probably a hint of pride that flashes in his eyes—he knows every part of your body, as if it’s his, and sometimes that fucking scares you because the both of you were only but just fuck buddies, and that’s what you constantly reminded yourself.

He presses his thumb on your clit as he gently pushes you back, exposing the pornographic scene before him—his cock just sinking in and out of your sopping cunt. He rubs against your clit as his free hand snakes up to your hips to push you, and his breathing shallows every time he sees his cock emerge from your abused hole, before he pulls you back in and your cunt just swallowing his cock whole.

Don’t even get him started with the noise the sex was making.

And the more he stimulates your nub, the more you realised you were gonna do more than just cum, because the sensations were getting too much.

“Yunho”, you cry out, your arm clawing against his chest, as you attempt to stop him, lifting your hips. His glazed eyes stare at yours, and his hand is on your shoulders, forcing you to stay seated on his cock like a good girl. Tears are pooling at the corner of your eyes. Fuck. It’s building too rapidly. “Yunho, I-“

“I know. I know. Let it out baby”, he whispers into your ears as he raises his hips once more, fucking so deep into you, and ensuring you feel it all in your clit as well.

“Three.”

Your body begins to go slightly limp as the orgasm is about to hit a fever pitch.

“Two.”

And it fucking burns so fucking good throughout out your body.

“One.”

Your lower abdomen convulses as your orgasm takes you out, you are barely able lift your hips because he’s holding it down as you fucking squirt all over his lower abdomen, as your cunt convulses around his cock as well, and Yunho is fighting with every nerve in his body to keep his eyes open to watch you unwind right in front him— crying about how good it all feels. And that was the moment he realised he just really wants you all for himself.

You slowly come down from your high, the aftershocks of your orgasm still tingling in your cunt. Fuck. Did he really just count you down to your orgasm while he was high? You’ve never felt like this before, in any of the fuck sessions you had with him.

He still isn’t done, because he hasn’t cummed. But this time, he seems really close, especially after watching you squirt so like that, and that, yeah, he was fucking aroused from that, because his cock only stretches you out further.

“Did that feel good?” He asks, his hands cupping your cheek, wiping away the tear stains.

“Fuck. Since when did you learn to do this like that?” You ask back, finding the energy to still continue bouncing on his dick. Every stroke on top of him, you could see the scrunch in his eyebrows accompanied by a groan.

“I know your body like the back of my hand, so why wouldn’t I?” He responds, his hands now on your hips, pressing you down hard on his cock. “Fuck. I don’t think I can-“

Before he finishes his sentence, ropes of thick cum spill into your abused hole, and his voice ups a pitch as moans spill out of his mouth.

“So good. Feels so fucking good”, he cries out, twitching in you, his fingers turning white from how hard he’s gripping your thighs.

And it’s a fuckload of cum, for some reason, that it starts oozing out of your hole while he’s still in you. His whines fill the room as he bottoms out in you. You can’t help but brush his hair back, to get a better look at his face, as he comes down from his orgasmic high. He still looks pretty glazed out, but his gaze never leaves yours as he pants heavily.

And the next words that leave his mouth take you aback.

“Y/n. I like you. Fuck.”

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Carbonara (or Carmy Cooks for You)

Pt. 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy

This is part 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy! I hope you love it. NO WARNINGS. Pure fluff

Your apartment was warm. You entered ahead of Carmy, hanging your coat on the wall and kicking off your shoes. “Make yourself at home!” You invited, jovially.

Carmy followed suit, taking in your space. It smelled like you. It was small, but cozy. Personal touches littered every inch of the space. Your kitchen was to the left, a small wooden table against the wall for your dining area. The kitchen counter looked out to the moderately sized living room. Your little orange velvet couch sat before exposed brick and two tall windows. The wall to the left was covered with posters and picture frames, to the right were a pair of bookshelves without an inch of space that wasn’t occupied by a book or trinket. Several plants crowded the windowsills. The rug was soft and plushy on his feet. It would seem hectic to the blind eye, but Carmy could sense the intention behind each item present. Drumming his fingers on his leg, he chose to look at the wall of pictures. It was an eclectic mix of old posters; there were vintage Coca Cola posters, fashion campaigns from the 70s and 80s, music posters like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zepplin and such.. There were pictures and Polaroids of you with people he didn’t recognize and a few random things in picture frames; a pressed flower, a movie ticket, an unused tea bag, a coffee cup sleeve with a scrawling handwriting on it that said “don’t look back”.

You emerged from the bathroom, your hair free from the bun Carmy was used to. It fell about your face, messy and wild in a way that made the breath catch in Carmy’s throat. You joined him at his side, smiling at the wall before you.

“My scrap wall,” you explained. “I love the idea of scrapbooks but I like seeing things everyday.” Carmy nodded, staring at your profile. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He could reach out and caress your cheek… he wrenched his gaze from you and forced it to the wall. “I uh, I had no idea you were into vintage stuff.” He said.

“Likewise.” He raised his brow at you sideways and you laughed. “Loopwheel? Very Americana.” Carmy’s face felt hot. Was this real? It couldn’t be. How could you be any more perfect. You were still wearing his shirt. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Carmy had perused your fridge and pantry, settling on the dish he’d make. You sat at the little table, one leg pulled up to your chest and scratching away in a notebook before you. Music from the playlist you put on floated through the space, complimenting the ambient sound of Camry hard at work. It was so domestic. Usually, Carmy was anxious. His head pounded, his heart raced, and he could never catch his breath. But here with you, Carmy felt peaceful. It was like he’d done this a thousand times before. It was comfortable, safe. Carmy’s chest felt warm and relaxed. His mind wandered as his well practiced hands moved through the recipe. He imagined being here with you, making dinner together after a long day at the restaurant or curled up on the couch watching something on tv, how his arms would wrap around you and you’d lay your head on his chest. Little things filled his mind: going grocery shopping together, washing dishes, folding laundry, having coffee in the morning sitting in your couch and discussing vintage American icons. Sleeping beside you, feeling your skin against his, feeling your-

“Fuck!” The hot sear of the pan against Carmy’s hand snapped him out of his thoughts. You leapt to your feet, rushing over to him.

“Are you okay?!” You asked, grasping his hand in both of yours and guiding it under the stream of cold water. Truthfully, Carmy couldn’t even feel the burn. Not when your hands were on him. You cooed and tutted, closely inspecting his hand.

“I’m alright.” He assured you. You looked up at him and released his hand, much to Carmy’s dismay. You were close, the sink pressed against your back. If you took an extra deep breath your chest would brush against his. Carmy wasn’t particularly tall, but the way he looked down at you, his eyes dark and glued to yours, lips parted slightly, and his uninjured hand resting on the edge of the counter beside you, it felt like he towered over you.

“C-can I help?” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as such a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. His proximity made you dizzy.

“No, no… it’s almost done.”

It felt like an eternity while you stared at each other. You forced yourself away, resuming your place at the table while your heart screamed at the four foot distance. The next few minutes passed in silence until Carmy set a warm bowl in front of you.

Your jaw dropped.

Carmy kicked the door to the alley open, flicking his lighter. He felt like he was going to explode. Richie’s constant bitching, the endless mess of the office and the kitchen, everything was fucked. It was fucked. Carmy ran a frantic hand through his hair. He couldn’t breathe. He took a few steps into the alley, fully intending on having a total meltdown until he heard it. A sniffle.

You sat with your back against the bricks, your head in your hands. “Hey,” Carmy tried to make his voice as gentle as he could. “Are you, um- are you okay?”

Carmy felt his heart drop out of his body when you turned your face to him. Your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. Shit. Shit shit shit. What had he done? How had he fucked this up already? What happened? Was it Richie? He’d kill him.

“I’m sorry, chef.” You said, wiping your face.

“Carmy.” He said, quickly. “Sorry um… just you can call me Carmy.”

You smiled softly, despite the tears in your eyes you were beautiful. “Carmy,” you tested it on your tongue. Carmy thought he’d explode hearing your sweet voice say his name. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying at work it’s just-” you choked up, averting your gaze and shamefully wiping your tears.

Carmy sank down to sit beside you, unsure. You sighed. “My mom uh… she’s kind of fucked up. And my brother keeps calling and screaming at me because he wants me to go home and take care of her but…” you shook your head. “I just can’t go back there, ya know?”

Carmy’s heart panged with empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean…”

“It was so fucked up when I was a kid, though.” You stared up at the sky. “When I was 10, my mom would make carbonara every Wednesday. It was my favorite day of the week because I loved carbonara. When she started to get worse, I’d make it on Wednesdays just trying to hold onto it you know? I haven’t made it since I was a kid… I don’t know, I just… couldn’t bring myself to. I miss it though.”

Carmy let you vent but truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It was a little too close to home for him. He just watched you. The sun on your face, the puffiness subsiding from your eyes. He looked down at the ground, worried he’d say something stupid if he kept staring at you. You sighed again. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. “Thank you for listening to me rant. It feels good to say it out loud.”

Carmy’s cheeks tingled as he met your gaze. He smiled in return, the anxiety that had driven him into the alley in the first place was a million miles away.

“Yeah, anytime.”

You stared at the bowl before you. A nest of creamy spaghetti, dusted with grated Parmesan, crispy pancetta, and vibrant green chives. You felt your throat grow tight, tears pricking at your eyes. Carmy settled in the chair across from you and you stared at him in disbelief. “Carbonara?”

Carmy was suddenly nervous. Had he overstepped? “You uh, you said you hadn’t had it in a while.”

Nothing could have prepared Carmy for the look on your face. Eyes wide at him and beaming with adoration. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words seemed to fall short so instead you lifted a forkful of the creamy noodles to your lips. You sighed with delight when it touched your tongue. “Oh my god…”

“Good?”

You nodded, vigorously. “That is the best carbonara I’ve ever had.” You shook your head with a chuckle as you continued to eat. “You’re so annoying.”

“What?” Carmy practically choked he was so confused.

You laughed again, the melodic sound easing his nerves. “You’re SO good at this. Better be careful or I’ll have to make you cook dinner every night.”

Carmy couldn’t think of anything he’d like more. The warmth in his chest was threatening to spill over as he gathered all his courage into one single word: “promise?”

Seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant already gave you butterflies, but having him in your apartment so close you could touch made your knees weak. You stood at the sink side by side washing the dishes from dinner. Your shoulders bumped every few seconds. You had just made Carmy laugh with your very strong opinions of John Lennon. You’d never heard him laugh like that before, so earnest and carefree. His shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes brighter. The stress of family and the restaurant was far behind both of you, kept out by your apartment door. You hummed, wishing this night could last forever.

“Yeah… me too.” Carmy was grinning at you, cheeks tinged red and bashful. Your eyes widened, had that been out loud?

“Sorry, I uh- I just mean um-” you looked shyly over to him. He was drying his hands, leaning against the counter with a pleased smile on his perfect lips.

“It’s okay,” he assured. Carmy stepped closer. The warmth in his chest was boiling over. He reached up slowly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered against your cheek. “I like taking care of you too.”

[sophiethewitch1]

Before any asks come in, I figured I'd do some for my current crowning hyperfixation, which is the boys. Did one for each of their initials but Dick got two because I couldn't choose <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! , gen soft yandere behavior, murder, kidnapping, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism

D = Darling (Beyond Morality, is Any Act Justified in Their Pursuit of Their Darling? Is Consent Merely an Obstacle to Be Overcome?):

Dick: Dick is the most moral of the yandere batfam, and considers doing the right thing very important. Of course, you’re still much, much more important but… He’ll definitely start small. He’s manipulative. Always begging and pleading for a little more of your time, whining when you don’t give it. And he does it openly, too, not even trying to hide it. Maybe that will absolve him of some of his sins, he thinks a little pathetically. Things like murder and other crimes are harder for him to get into, as he’s quite loyal to Bruce’s code. And he probably wouldn’t kidnap you, just move into your house instead, then your bedroom, then under the covers and with your arms around you. Very slowly, so he doesn’t scare you away. And as someone who has experienced s/a before, he wouldn’t do that to you. No matter how desperate, no matter how many nights he spends taking a suspiciously long time in the shower, he’d never do that to you. In the end, he just wants you to be happy so… so the other stuff doesn’t need to matter as much.

Damian: Damian has a very black and white form of thinking. It took Bruce a hell of a lot of work to change that, and with the advent of you in his life, he swings right back to that black and white. Morality is thrown right out the window when it comes to getting you, to getting you to love him. Murder? He’s done it before. Kidnapping? He’ll keep you safe with him. He’s a romantic, though (like they all are) and he wants you to love him back. He’s irritated that he can’t force that, that if he broke you, you wouldn’t be you. So in the end he won’t ever do anything too far, nothing that would truly get in the way of his goal. Still, with the kidnapping thing, you guys are just going to get stuck together for a while, because he’s certainly not letting you go. The two of you are just gonna have to suffer together till you inevitable fall in love with him. Don’t worry, he’s got a plan!

J = Jealousy (Does Jealousy Course Through Their Veins, Leading to Possessive Outbursts and a Relentless Need to Eliminate Perceived Threats?):

Jason: Jason is so unbelievably jealous it sometimes physically hurts. Like he’s being burned alive by it, which, well, he knows what that’s like so he can say it with confidence. He finds your presence calming, usually, but that first time he sees you laughing at a close friend’s joke, he realises you bring out every emotion in him. This time, fiery rage from the literal pits’ of hell. He won’t ever hurt you (and if he ever thinks of it, even for just a moment, the pure horror is enough of a cool bucket of icy water over his head to snap him out of it) but others? Oh, oh no. He left that silly ‘no killing’ code behind a long time ago, and he’s very glad for that as he beats one of your admirers into the concrete. And if you have other yanderes under your thrall? You’ll find yourself constantly breaking up fights, and maybe one day, cleaning up a body. Even then, Jason doesn’t like seeing you touch them, so he does it for you instead. What a sweet guy, eh?

R = Regret (Would Guilt Ever Be a Foreign Emotion, Overridden by the Conviction That Their Actions Are Justified? Is the Idea of Letting Their Darling Go Inconceivable?):

Richard/Dick: Constantly. Dick is constantly suffering under the weight of his choices, the way he’s treated you, the things he thinks about you. And even as he does it again, does worse, he’ll still have that bit of guilt in the back of his mind. He wants to stay with you, to fucking climb inside your rib cage and live next to the comforting sound of your beating heart, but he knows that’s all unhealthy. He sometimes can’t banish the guilt from his head, sometimes it’s overwhelming, and those are the moments he’ll back off a bit.

T = Tears (Does the Sight of Their Darling's Suffering Evoke a Twisted Pleasure, a Morbid Satisfaction Reinforcing Their Control?):

Tim (Going to play around with this one a bit, if you’ll forgive me): Tim is purely fascinated by you. He’s one of the yanderes who gets obsessed with you first, and falls for you second. Your tears, just simply by being a byproduct of you are fascinating to him too. And yeah, they turn him on. Everything about you turns him on, but the sight of your weepy face, has his cock weepy too. As a sadomasochist switch, he likes it when you’re suffering just a little bit. It’s just too cute to resist. But on the other side… he likes when you make him cry too. He likes when you hurt him, as long as you’re paying him attention, looking at him. He’ll cry all you like, if you think it makes him cute, too.

[writingoddess1125]

Cold you do a fluffy buggy with fem reader? Like just domestic stuff?

I gotcha! Thank you for the request!

Buggy×Reader!Wife

Fluff with like 1/4 teaspoon of Buggy being injured to help the fluff.

My Anchor ⚓️

"Goodnight Captian!" The crew hollered at Buggy, the sound of laughing and the crew drinking sounding behind him. He gave a laugh and bid them all fairwell with his usual flashy ways, Walking below the main deck. His face falling from the fake smile to a more exhausted expression, the day finally settling over him and the eyes of his crew away for the time being.

Silently walking into his room and closing the door behind him. His eyes staying on the floor as he leaned against the door, finally able to breath. Buggy only looked up at hearing you getting up from your favorite chair and walking towards him. Your book forgotten on the little table he stole for you as your face was painted with worry.

You, his beautiful wife. The only one who knew the real man underneath that makeup, who loves him for who he was- flaws and all. The women who made him feel alive again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, always wanting to leave options for your husband. Some days he wanted to talk your ear off, whining and throwing a temper tantrum. However today was not one of those days- he met your gaze and shook his head 'no' you knew it must have been a really really long day for him to be this detached and silent. You knew his mental struggles, his need to be the best and how it weighed on him- his hatred for himself that ge cloaked with false confidence and a hot air ego that only burned him time and time again.

"I've got you" You whispered softly, running your hands up and down his arms, Feeling the muscles relax under your fingertips. Carefully helping him out of his coat and leading him to the bed to sit down.

He sat down on the edge of the bed obediently, letting you take full control. Stepping away for only a second you grabbed a warm rag and began to wipe the makeup from his face mindful of the bumps and bruises that decorated his face. Dipping the rag back in warm water as the white, blue and red grease paint melted from his face.

The bags under his eyes being revealed as you carefully wiped away the mask he wore. Buggy watercolor eyes looked at your face, the exhaustion bleeding through his longing gaze. It was only in these moments did he let himself be vulnerable, only infront of you.. You were his anchor and the thing that kept him from floating away to a see of hatred and loneliness. Once you finished in removing the makeup you placed a series of soft kisses over his face and set to work to getting your dear husband ready to rest.

Buggy closed his eyes as he felt you take off his hat, Leaning his head Carefully against your chest and placing his hands on your hips. Your hands taking care to undo the bandana and set it to the side, Taking out the pins that held his hair up as waves of blue flowed down his form. Buggy grumbled a gentle moan as you started to run your fingers through his scalp, massaging away the stress of the day. This was always his favorite part and you made sure to give time and attention to it- taking care to detangle his hair with your fingers and massage his scalp, drawing out gentle whimpers and moans from him.

After a while you pulled away, going to grab his favorite pajama bottoms, you were careful to pull the boots from his feet and set them aside. You where ready to help him undress gently starting to undo the buttons on his vest, and taking off his dirty shirt. You had to hold back a gasp at seeing the bruises that decorated his torso, your fingers freezing at the sight as you stare. Your heart aching for Buggy who just reached a hand up to cup your cheek.

"I'm okay, It will heal"

He said softly, Pulling you closer with a gentle kiss to your lips. Both to sooth you and reassure himself. He would heal- He always did. You returned the kiss, running your fingers through his hair again as you savored his touch and taste.

It wasn't till both your guys lungs screamed for air did you two pull away from each other. Finishing getting ready to the night as Buggy slipped on his pajama bottoms and you putting away his discarded clothes to be dealt with tomorrow. Buggy climbing into the large bed first, pulling the stripped blankets up so you could join him. Climbing in after him as he quickly scooped you in his arms, sighing contently as he felt everything was alright again. Pulling you to his chest as he rested his head onto of yours.

"I love you (Y/N).. more then my words can ever express" He whispered, burying his face in your hair hand taking a heavy breath, Filling his lungs with you. His hands wrapping tighter around your form as he savored your warmth.

"I love you too Buggy"

You kiss his neck sweetly and rubbing invisible patterns on his skin as the two of you just held each other. The rocking of the ship lulling the two of you into dreams of each other.

[in-my-shifting-era]

Undercover

Spencer Reid Fluff

Summary: When an unsub is hunting for young couples at a bar; reader and Spencer are asked to go under cover posing as a couple to catch him.

Warning: the usual criminal minds stuff. Some mature themes are mentioned; illusion of alcohol consumption and some sexual tension and themes. (Not full smut but to be save minors do not interact please)

Authors note: the love my last Spencer one shot get is making my writer heart explode thank you all! This post is a thank you for all that love!

———————————————————————————————————

Going to a bar on the job was something you never imagine doing. Especially going to a bar undercover to catch a deranged serial killer who’s targeting young couples. This did mean you weren’t at the bar alone. You there with your coworker/ longtime crush Spencer Reid. Hotch has no idea about your crush on the young doctor, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have put you guys in this situation.

The situation being sat at the busy bar; hair and makeup done up and wearing a black dress that hugs your curves just a little too well. Spencer is sat on your right stirring his fake mixed drink that is placed in front of him. You look over and smile at the concentrated  face he makes as he moves the ice around in his cup. He quickly picks up on this action and turns to you and gives you a confused look before speaking. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

You can’t quite hear him over the music that is playing and lean closer to him, giving him a pretty good view down your low cut dress. Reid fights the blush burning his cheeks and starts to speak again when you get the sign from Hotch that the unsub has entered the bar. You take your closeness to Spencer to your advantage and get into character quickly by tucking some hair between his ear . “No, I’m just looking at my handsome boyfriend. that’s all.” You smile widely seeing Spencer’s cheek fully darken to a blush at your comment. You lean back in your bar stool and take your mock tail and sip it lightly.

The pub fires you begged Spencer to order finally arrive making you do a small happy dance as you eat a fry. Spencer smiles at this and takes a fry. “I’ve always found it really cute when you do that.” You blush lightly and look over at him eating his fry with a smile. “Do what? Eat my food?” You keep your tone playful as you take another fry and eat it happily. “No the little dance you do. You do it any time you are excited for something.”

You blush at this because you can tell this is coming from Spencer and not part of the undercover job. You don’t get to respond because you get word that the unsub is scanning the bar and to up the pda to gain his attention. They believe he goes for couples who are physically all over each other. Spencer places a hand on your knee and squeezes it gently. “It’s also cute that you blush at just my words”

The tone change in his voice makes your heart skip a beat. Your earpiece tells you you’re both on the unsubs radar so he continues and moves his hand further up your leg. You mumble his name breathlessly knowing your co workers are watching you as well. You put your hand on his to stop it from wondering further. “You’re hands are wandering and we’re and public babe.” The cheeky smile that falls onto Spencer’s face is not one you’ve see often.

You both see the unsub creep closer to where you are sat you look up at Spencer through your eyelashes. “Maybe we can skip getting ice cream and have dessert at home.” Spencer squeezes at your thigh rougher then he did before and begins to speak when you feel a cold drink spill onto your lap. You looks over at the culprit and are face to face with the unsub.

“I’m so sorry Miss I slipped on some water on the floor, let me help you.” He rushes to get some napkins when Spencer stands quickly and stands between you both. “She’s okay. I’ll clean her up.” The unsub abandons his act of kindness and glairs over at Spencer. “I’m just being polite and I think she can speak for herself if she’d like my help.” You feel both men’s eyes turn to you. You responded quickly and calmly. “It’s okay really. I’ll get the dress dry cleaned. Thank you though.”

Spencer puts a napkin against the spill and keeps his eyes glued on the unsub who steps back a bit and glares at you both. His hand reaches to his belt and you catch a glimpse of a knife. You fix you hair in the way to alert the team the unsub is armed. “Let’s just head out babe. The quicker I attend to the stain the better.” Spencer nods picking up the signal and keeps himself in front of you at all times.

As you stand slowly and grab you purse on the chair when someone grabs your arm rather harshly. Before you can even react and see who it is grabbing you you see Spencer pull the unsub away from you and pin him roughly against the bar with one hand behind his back. “Keep your hands off of her.” The unsub attempts to fight back but Spencer takes a grip on his arm and twists it back a bit.

The rest of the undercover agents in the bar apprehended the unsub and take him out quickly. You jump back to reality the Spencer places a hand on your arm gently. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?.” You look up at him gently. “I’m okay Spence. He just grabbed my arm kinda tight. I’ll be okay.” You give him the best reassuring smile you can still being a bit shaken up.

Spencer rubs your arm gently where a red mark has formed. He takes your ear piece off quickly and then his own and leans towards you to whisper gently. “You looked really beautiful tonight. I’m saying that with no mics or eyes on us.” You smooth out the tie he wearing that had gotten messed up in the take down just moments before. “I’d like to go on a real date with you Dr. Reid. I’m could wear this dress if you’d like.”

You give Spencer an innocent smile. He hides a blush my licking his lips slowly. The moment is ruined by the team joining you both and making sure you’re both okay. The tension in the air is thick but no one seems to take notice of it. Going undercover went better then you could have asked for. You caught the unsub and a date with Spencer Reid.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when you're sick

a/n: i love writing stuff like this, mostly because i think how someone takes care of u when ur sick means a lot :)) it’s very endearing to me!

notes: yujin is not included due to his age! just assume y/n has a nasty case of the flu or something lol, i didn't proofread so sorry for any typos!

wc | 2.8k

 from worst to best at taking care of you

gyuvin

i don’t think he’d necessarily be bad at it per say

like gyuvin’s definitely the type of guy to treat you a little bit like a baby when you’re sick

he feels really bad, and he doesn’t like seeing you all upset and unhappy :(

so for the first couple of days he’s good at supplying you with medicine and water, and he does his best to make you meals (most of them are bland convenience store soups and noodles put into bowls but it’s okay)

he also spends a lot of time with you, and, by extension, cheers you up a lot

he will amp his funny meter up like 97% because he wants to see you smile and laugh

even though you can barely laugh because you’re sick and your throat hurts

he also will be very loving when you’re sick which is nice because i don’t see him being extremely touchy when you’re going about your daily life

so you get lots of hugs and kisses even though you keep telling him not to because he will get sick

and that’s where everything goes wrong

the thing is. on day 3 he will wake up sick

no matter what, when you get sick, he will be sick within 72 hours

it’s because he’s clingy and annoying and will nap with you, get ready for bed with you, and eat food with you so there’s virtually no protection from your illness

and as much as he would love to keep taking care of you while he’s sick, he feels just as bad so now you’re BOTH rotting away while whatever sickness you have runs its course

you end up having to call hanbin over because neither of you want to do anything but lay there

so like

enjoy the two days of a very loving and doting boyfriend (more so than usual)

and make sure to tell hanbin when you get sick so he can be prepared to clear his schedule lol

under gyuvin’s (technically hanbin’s) care, it takes about a week to fully get better!

ricky

so sorry to the 04s for this slander

again i don’t think he’d be bad at it he’d just be a little clueless

i think when he gets really stressed out about something he shuts down a little bit too so when your fever is pushing 102 he’s kind of like a sim that can’t figure out how to get past a desk (if that makes sense)

you’ll be like “ugh my head hurts” and he’ll be like oh okay … then twenty minutes later he finally returns with advil and a cup of water

or like you’ll be napping and he’ll suddenly remember that you need to take more dayquil (he’s about an hour late)

and at the end of the day he will get done what he needs to get done just like give him a minute

ricky somehow makes a really good chicken noodle soup (it’s just canned soup) and you always ask him about it and how he makes it!! he tells you it’s a secret (he just slightly modifies canned soup)

i think he’s also pretty good at making sure he doesn’t get sick from taking care of you, too

like as much as he loves you and not being able to hold your hand makes him want to die, he doesn’t want to be like gyuvin and force hanbin to take care of both of you lol

so he’ll wear a mask and wash his hands pretty regularly, but he makes sure to reassure you that he’s taking the necessary precautions so that he can successfully nurse you back to health, and that he still loves you even if he can’t get too close right now :)

i think his main strength in this area is keeping you entertained, though

like he’ll make sure there’s always a movie playing or something, even if you’re asleep

he doesn’t want you to be bored and feel bad

also has an intrinsic belief that not being bored will distract you from the icky feelings

under ricky’s care, it takes a little over a week to get better!

matthew

same with ricky, i think matthew’s not necessarily bad at it, but he kind of shuts down when he finds out

he goes from like doting, loving boyfriend to oh god oh my god oh no oh god

if you give him a bit of time to gather himself he goes from panic mode to question mode

matthew will NOT leave you alone while you’re sick!!! he’s halfway convinced you’re living out your last days!!!! he has to make sure you don’t die!!!!

he also asks you 70 questions an hour

“do you need anything?” “do you want something to eat?” “do you need more water?” “do you want a massage?”

of the 70 questions, maybe about 3 or 4 of them yield the answer “yes” but that’s not 0 so he’s going to keep it up

he’s like baymax or something idk he’s just so stressed out the entire time

he’s like nigh unrecognizable the entire time

you are absolutely aware of the fact that sometimes he leaves the room to call his mom and ask for advice but you pretend that you don’t know for the sake of his dignity

although his constant stream of questions can be somewhat overwhelming at times, you’re very appreciative of his dedication because when you’re sick, you will get anything you need

he will also make any meal you desire even if he’s never made it before, and he really adores the way it makes you smile so then he’s all smiley afterwards &lt;;/3

if he needs to go out to the store to get you something, he will either enlist somebody else to do it or have someone stay with you while he’s gone

so you’ll get a lot of well wishes from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin while you’re not feeling well

when you get better it’s the best day of matthew’s life i’m pretty sure

he remembers what it feels like to not be terribly worried 24/7 so you watch him deflate like a balloon

and then he naps for like four hours

under matthew’s care, it takes 6-ish days to get better!

taerae

taerae’s pretty middle of the road in my opinion

like we learned during boys’ planet, he’s the youngest kid so he received a lot of affection and love when he was growing up

so, when you’re sick, he gives you a LOT of affection

you could be rotting away in bed and taerae will be like “you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen” with heart eyes

i think the thing that gives taerae a real leg up though is that his first thought is “oh let’s go see a doctor” and he can drive so you go pretty much immediately

that way, you get flu-specific medicine and get better quicker than you would’ve without

after that, taerae’s sick care is pretty run of the mill

i don’t think he’s too panicked about it because people get sick all the time, and so, unless you’re really, really sick he’s not going to be doting on you 24/7 like matthew would

he’ll still run errands and he won’t cancel plans unless you straight up ask him to (and if you ask he will without thinking about it!!!)

and he makes sure you’re taking your meds, drinking water, and eating three times a day

but life doesn’t stop, you know??

it’s nice because when you’re sick, sometimes all you want is to be left alone for a bit and that’s exactly what taerae does for you :)

also, because he’s continuing on with his life, he won’t get sick from you so you won’t have any of that guilt on your shoulders

one special thing taerae does when you’re sick though is sing you to sleep

sure, when you’re not sick, he’ll do it from time to time but he’s very consistent when you’re not feeling well!! he’ll get the guitar out and sing you a lullaby or two

he will also sing you awake </3 and he wakes you up to eat!!! so it’ll be a cute little made up jingle about it being breakfast time … it’s very heartwarming

under taerae’s care, you get better in 5 days!

jiwoong

i think he’s very similar to taerae in this respect, so he’s also in the middle (but a little bit higher up)

jiwoong is older and more experienced with stuff like this so he’s very businessy about it

when you wake up with a fever, you’ll head to the doctor and get your tamiflu or whatever

from then on it’s just a waiting game i think

the main difference between taerae and jiwoong though is strictly experience

he’s very routine when it comes to taking care of you

you eat breakfast, he gives you dayquil, goes out to get anything you ask for…it continues

jiwoong is also really good at knowing when you want him around and when you want him to leave you alone

but he’s always generally around, and will cancel plans (without telling you) so that he can make sure he’s available if anything goes wrong

he’s good at planning for the worst case scenario without being worried about it, too, so he’ll have a backup plan in place if you (for some reason) start getting worse rather than getting better

jiwoong is great to have around when you’re sick because he’s good at cooking, too

he will bring you the most delicious soup you’ve ever had in your life and will literally juice oranges so that you can have fresh orange juice

he doesn’t tell you but he’s a little manic about what you’re consuming when you’re sick because he doesn’t want you to throw up or get sicker because of what you’re eating

he also gives really good bear hugs when you’re sick

like the best bear hug of your life

when you trudge out of the bedroom in the morning to eat breakfast and open your arms for a hug he will gladly envelope you into the most comfortable thing you’ve felt in weeks

they’re obviously no different from his hugs when you’re not sick but for some reason they’re just so much better than when you’re not feeling well

under jiwoong’s care, you get better in 4-5 days

zhang hao

TOP 3!!

hao is so lovely to be around when everything is normal, so when you’re sick he’s like a saving grace almost

he actually notices you’re sick before you do

he wakes up one morning, looks over at you, and notices that your cheeks are flushed and you’re making a kind of unhappy face

he takes your temperature and is like >:0 oh no

so you literally wake up to him holding a gatorade and a bowl of rice and you’re like ??? what

“you’re sick”

“i am???”

and then a couple of hours the symptoms really kick in and you’re like “how are you a genius…” but he’s just observant lol

while you’re sick, he dials up the zhang hao charm like 7000% and makes sure that you know he loves you more than anything and that he will do/get anything you need until you get better

and he will ensure that you don’t feel guilty that he’s taking time off of his everyday life to dote on you

i think, in general, hao is so good at catching your illness before it’s really able to set in that your symptoms tend to be fairly mild throughout the time that you’re sick (thus, you get better faster)

and he’s good at making sure you’re staying clean too

he knows how awful it is when you get sick and you don’t have anyone to help you out, so you just end up feeling gross and disgusting all the time

so he makes sure you’re doing your skincare (he will literally do it for you if you need him to) and that you’re showering when you need to yk

and he gets “anonymous deliveries” of little treats throughout the time that you’re sick (he asks hanbin to pick some things up and put them at the door lol)

when you get better, hao will take you on a date to celebrate (and he lets you pay so you’ll truly crush any guilt you felt for interrupting his daily life)

under hao’s care, you get better in 4 days!

gunwook

this might be a hot take but i think gunwook would be so nice to have around when you’re sick

i also think, like hao, he picks up on it before it even happens idk

he’ll see that one of your friends got sick after you hung out and he just knows

he will preemptively make you take theraflu, and you think he’s being stupid but then you wake up with a fever

he’s like “i told you”

gunwook would be panicked in a way that you have no clue, so it’s out of sight and out of mind

but in all actuality he’s blowing up the zb1 gc like wtf do i DO!!!

everyone’s first recommendation is to make sure you don’t end up like gyuvin (sick and unhappy) LOL

but half the things he does are recommendations from jiwoong, hao, and hanbin so make sure to thank them at some point!!

because he takes tips from the pros he ends up being a pro you know

and he finds out ricky’s super secret (canned) soup recipe so he’s got that on lock too

essentially gunwook is the product of the rest of the group’s experience … like the answer to one big equation lol

the one thing he doesn’t listen to is everyone telling him to like not be constantly close to you

i’m a believer that gunwook rarely gets sick (his immune system is like on steroids) so he spends the entirety of this period hanging out with you

naps with you, goes to bed at the same time as you, watches whatever you’re watching, etc

obviously he’s washing his hands pretty often but he’s still hanging out with you, which makes you feel very happy and loved :)

afterwards, you’re very thankful and appreciative and gunwook will take all the credit for the techniques other people supplied him with

at some point you’ll probably catch on but you won’t say anything lol

if he’s happy, you’re happy!

under gunwook’s care, you get better in 3-4 days!

hanbin

i feel like this was obvious

this man is literally a mother

you feel like your mom is taking care of you the entire time you’re sick

when you wake up and tell him you aren’t feeling well he does the mom thing (puts his hand on your forehead) and can actually conclude you have a fever by doing that

and then he’ll tell you to go lay down while he makes breakfast lol

it’s seriously like your mom is taking care of you, i cannot overstate this

he’s giving you cold washcloths and handing you cough drops every 2-3 business hours

he asks what your symptoms are and goes “hmm” before disappearing from the room and returning with the exact remedy you need

hanbin quite literally hates the idea that you’re nothing less than happy, so he will do everything in his power to make sure you’re getting better while honoring your wishes at the same time

so if all you want to do is sleep, he’ll let you sleep

or if you want to try and still be productive, he’ll let you help with the dishes or do your own laundry if need be

being sick under hanbin’s care is so nice because you don’t feel like the world has stopped just because you’re sick, you know

the way he takes care of you keeps you feeling strong enough to do something other than lay about all day

and you don’t really get to the point where you feel like death is imminent (i assume this is a universal experience for everyone)

and he’s not too worried about you being sick as he’s worried about you getting better and not having any residual symptoms you know

also makes yummy and delicious food for you so that’s a big plus LOL

you get better so fast that it’s barely a bump in the road

you think god accidentally gave hanbin special powers and you’re glad you get to be the main benefactor of them

under hanbin’s care, you get better in 3 days!

thank you for reading!

[weird-is-life]

hey! For your winter asks, I’d so love to see fluffy ‘spencer and reader staying over in her childhood room for the first time on Christmas eve’? I love your work!! (Or! If you’re not doing christmassy stuff! They’re whisked away on a case and have to make the best of a freezing winter night in some dingy motel room’!

Hii, ty for the request🥰! I chose the second version, Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, pet names, cold weather, (0.7k)

Usually, when you are away on a case, the hotels or the places you stay at are decent, nothing too fancy. There's hot and cold water, bad mattresses and heating or AC. And that's okay, most of the time, you don't even have enough time to sleep to care for anything better.

But this motel is definitely the worst place, you've ever stayed at. You were out in the cold December weather in Alaska the whole day, so you were looking forward so so much to the warmth of yours and Spencer's room.

When you step a foot inside of the room, you realise, you are not getting much warmer tonight. Yes, the heating is on, but it does nothing to warm up the room, the heating being too old and too weak.

And another thing, that makes it even worse is the barely warm water. So the shower you take makes you feel even more cold.

Spencer showers after you and by the time he gets out of there, you are already hidden under the covers, shivering madly.

Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered too much by the cold, maybe it's because he was at the warm precinct to whole day, maybe.

He lifts the covers up to get under them and as he does that the little bit of warm you've managed to create is gone.

You whine as the cold air hits you. Spencer looks confused at you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, perplexed.

"I-I'm so freaking cold," you say and your teeth almost chatter loudly.

Spencer takes one of your hands into his and when he feels, that it's icy-cold, he drags you into his arms. His big hands immediately wrapping around you.

Spencer feels like a heater, so you instantly snuggle close to him.

"You are so cold, like a popsicle," he chuckles as his hands go up and down your arms, trying to warm you up.

"I feel like one," you murmur into his chest and he chuckles again.

"My poor girl, what am I going to do with you, huh?" he asks, he knows you already feel better in his arms, but he doesn't thing it will help totally.

He does have some spare warm clothes, he'll definitely go get you those.

He moves to get up, but you hold on to him very very tightly, "where are you going?" you scowl.

"I just want to get you something more warm to wear and I'll go ask the receptionist, if they have a heater," he tries to get up again, but you don't let him.

"No, don't go, please. I'll freeze to death here," you are maybe being a little bit dramatic, but you are just too cold.

"Sweetheart, I'll be right back, I promise. You'll get warmer quickly that way," Spencer tries to reason with you. He doesn't want you to be cold, and because of it uncomfortable.

"I already feel warm enough right now," you say stubbornly, even if you still feel a bit cold.

"Sweetheart....," Spencer sighs. And frowns playfully at you.

"Just 5 more minutes okay? Then I'll maybe let you go," you respond and cheekily put your hands under his shirt.

He yelps at the coldness of your hands on your skin," stop it." Spencer begs you and you only giggle, hands not moving even one inch.

"You are a minx, you know that, right?" Spencer says, not annoyed, he could be, but he loves you too much.

"Sorry?"

"You will be, when I wrap you up in so much warm clothes that you won't be able to move and I'll cuddle you so much, you'll get sick of me," he teases you back, it's all very lovely of course.

"Please do," you reply, suddenly remembering the cold again.

"I will, once the 5 minutes are up, I'm retrieving everything for you, lovely," you don't say anything. You only nod and hum in response and enjoy the warmth radiating from Spencer's body.

You stay like that way longer than the 5 minutes. In fact, you stay like that the whole night. The comfort of being close to Spencer is enough to lull you to sleep, forgetting all about being cold. And Spencer is always able to fall asleep quickly if you are there.

[its-time-to-write]

PLEASE i am on my knees for jamie x reader where she’s just crying thinking about all the times he needed someone but no one was there.. and now everything is great, he’s grown and he has so much love and support and he has her but all she can do is sob because when you love someone you wish you were could be there to hold them even if they were 8 and their dad was a dick.. yknow??? AND he’s just holding her face, nodding and reassuring her he’s fine and he has so many people, especially her, and he’s lowkey choked up too

So. This is actually a mix of two writings. The first part is from your request, the second is something I wrote shortly after my very first post. I actually wrote it because I was processing some personal things, so… yeah. Here it is. Just be warned, it talks about abuse and stuff, Jamie’s dad shows up and is his regular, douchey self. If that’s upsetting for anyone, just be aware. If this needs more warnings, let me know.

i don’t know how you keep smiling/i’m just choking almost constantly

“He what?” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “You’re telling me he took you there and made you do that?”

You’re sitting on your couch in your flat, legs across Jamie’s lap. He’d come over out of nowhere an hour earlier, just knocked on your door and said, “Can we talk?”

You let him in because of course you can talk. You make tea, sit down on the couch, and words just come spilling out of Jamie. It is all about his dad. How he drank, yelled, and hit, precisely in that order. Watching his mum throw him out and accept him back in, in what felt like an endless cycle. Hiding how bad it really was for her because his dad was making her laugh and she was smiling and anyway, it’s not like the bruises were anywhere anyone could see.

Jamie tells you how his dad came to his game the night before, went to the locker room, and how Jamie punched him. He says he’s scared of his dad finding him, because his dad always makes good on a threat, and he doesn’t usually have anyone to talk to but he figured you might be a good listener, what with being his girlfriend of five months and all. He says it all while staring at the chipped mug on your coffee table, the one he insisted you can’t throw out because it’s his favorite, and who care’s if it’s a little damaged? It adds character.

But all you can think about is little eight-year-old Jamie, hiding under his bed and pulling out his front tooth because his dad broke it, so he can tell his mom he just lost it like all the other kids.

You think of what you were doing that year. You would have just turned six, chasing your brother with a fairy wand and a nerf gun, ponytail flying.

The mental image of Jamie under his bed, cowering in a corner, learning to cover up welts and to lie to his mum brings a fresh wave of tears. Just the thought of him being alone makes it feel as though your heart is breaking, and you wish you would have known him then. Your parents would have loved him. Wouldn’t have let his father come around and hit him.

He just finished telling you about Amsterdam, and you can physically feel your soul shatter into pieces on his behalf. The fact that he can’t even remember it is what really gets you. 

Jamie, meanwhile has stopped staring at the mug and is now looking at you. “It- it’s alright, love,” he says. “I’m here now, and it’s alright.”

Through blurry eyes, you can see that it is not alright. Jamie’s eyes are watering now too, and he pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck.

You sniff and pull yourself together. “No, Jaim, it’s not alright. You can say, ‘I’m alright,’ or ‘I will be alright,’ but what that shithead did to you is not and never will be ok. And I’m glad you’re telling me about it, and I’m only crying because I keep thinking about how you must’ve felt. It’s not because I can’t handle it, because I can. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and you’re going to be ok.”

Jamie has started shaking in your arms, and you feel a tears start to drop onto your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair and whisper, “You’re ok. I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’re ok. I’m not leaving. You’re ok.”

—

That was the first real time Jamie ever told you about his dad. You’d talk about it periodically, whenever it got really bad, and he also started talking to a therapist. Doctor Sharon, you think her name was? Anyway, he’s getting better in his mind, which is good, because sometimes you don’t know what to do beyond listen. And you do. Soon, Jamie’s stories about his dad begin with, “Dr. Sharon says…” and he’s not as angry anymore. Not as jaded, not as broken. There are still deep cuts, but his spirit is coming back. He’s not broken in such a way that he can’t be put back together, piece by piece.

—

It’s not until you’re out to dinner at your favorite restaurant that something actually happens.

“Jamie,” you say, face serious, empty plates between you.

“Yes, love,” he replies, matching your expression.

“I think that we should get ice cream.”

His face breaks into a smile as he slides his hand off the top of yours to run it through his hair. “Babe. We just ate enough food to put a horse into a coma, and you want ice cream? What about digestion?”

“Jamie. Listen-” you both argue as he pays the bill, takes your hand again, and swings it while you head in the direction of the ice cream shop.

“-And if you think about it, it’s actually a wise food choice,” you continue.

“Babe,” he laughs, “I just think that you might be making up the health benefits of strawberry ice…”

Jamie's counter-argument has trailed off as he stares at something ahead of you, rather someone who is stumbling down the sidewalk in your direction.

You have never seen this man before, but you know exactly who he is.

He's still a good seven feet away when he yells, “Well, well, look who it is. Me son, who can’t even take the time to return his own father’s phone calls! Just joking, just joking, hey? And who’s this fine little lady?” he asks, punctuating his words with a few fake punches in Jamie’s direction as he draws closer.

Jamie is still holding your hand, but has maneuvered himself in between you and his father. He has yet to say anything, so you take your cue from him and keep silent.

James Tartt, Sr. is in front of you now, and it is more obvious now than ever that he is intoxicated. He's swaying a little bit as he stands, and there is the stench of alcohol with each breath he blows. Jamie is holding your hand so tight that it hurts, but you don’t let go. You grip it back.

“Dad,” Jamie says as a way of greeting, face taut.

You're under a streetlight, but not many people are around this time of night.

“Jamie,” his father replies, mocking his serious tone, “is this how I find out you’ve got a girl? Runnin’ into you on the street? Couldn't have sent me a quick message about it, hey? Oh I joke, I joke,” he says. His words are grating, and he keeps punching at Jamie. You do not like it at all. 

“What d’you want, dad?” Jamie asks, gripping your hand harder, if that’s even possible.

His dad wipes his face. “Ey, listen, since you’re ‘ere, what do you say you get me tickets to the Man City game this weekend? Can spend some quality time with this one.” He winks at you in a way you’re sure he thinks is endearing, which is a problem because three things happen in rapid succession: his dad makes a rude comment about quality time, Jamie pushes you behind him saying, “Don’t you ever fucking speak to her,” and James Tartt shouts, “You self-righteous, fuckin’ pussy!” and moves to hit Jamie. 

You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter because Jamie’s dad is on the ground and people are starting to stare. You pull Jamie’s still clenched fist down and say, “Babe, let’s get out of here,” while James Tartt is drunkenly trying to stand.

“Babe,” you say a little more forcefully. “let’s go.”

Jamie snaps out of it, lets out a short, “Right, yeah,” and then you’re walking as fast as you can in the opposite direction. 

Not fast enough, apparently, because you still hear his father yell, “That's two you’ve got on me, boy! You better watch your back!”

You have no circulation in your hand and for the first time that night, you feel real fear. Not for yourself, but for Jamie. You may have never met his father, but you’ve heard enough. You know that he always makes good on a threat. 

Jamie looks back twice to make sure you aren’t being followed, and you just walk. You walk a mile past your flat and then circle back. Jamie hasn’t said a single word, just held your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's not until you’re on your doorstep that you decide to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’re facing each other, you one step above him so you’re almost eye-level.

Jamie shakes his head and looks away. “Not- not tonight. I don’t think I can- I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” You slowly lift your free hand and brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Not slowly enough, apparently, because he still flinches almost imperceptibly, “It’s alright, Jaim. We don’t have to talk about it tonight.”

Jamie blows out a sigh, and you slide your hand from his hair to his cheek. He just looks so tired, all the anger and defensiveness gone out of him.

“Your place or mine?” you ask because there’s no way in hell you’re letting him be alone tonight.

Jamie shakes his head slightly. “I can’t. I have training tomorrow.”

“Jamie-”

“No, look, I just need something to be normal. And I don’t want you coming over in case me dad fuckin’ decides to come ‘round. I'll come over tomorrow after practice and we can talk then.”

He says it with such resigned finality that you don’t fight him on it. You whisper a soft “alright,” and then wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go. Jamie hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, but you don’t ever want to let him go; you memorize the feel of his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck, and the erratic beat of his heart.

He lets you go after a long moment, waits to make sure that you get inside safely, and then you watch him begin the two-block trudge to his house.

You stay awake until your phone dings with a made it from Jamie, and then, despite all the thoughts swirling in your head, you fall asleep.

——

You startle awake by someone yelling outside, followed by a loud knocking. You squint at the clock which reads an awful one a.m. for a split second you wonder if it’s Jamie at your door, then you catch a word this person is yelling.

Whore.

You’re wide awake now. You grab your phone to text Jamie as his father continues to pound on your door yelling, You stupid fucking bitch, no one messes with James Tartt, I’ll make you fucking pay for that shit he pulled!

The text goes through and you wait a second before calling 999. They answer your call and promise that someone will be over right away. You know for a fact Jamie is still asleep, but you call him just in case and his sleep-deprived voice answers on the third ring. You can only get out a few words - outside, your dad, police - before he is wide awake and on his way over.

——

It's all kind of a blur, really, and you feel truly horrendous, but all you can think about is Jamie. You’re not really sure how he does it, but he is at your flat right before the police. All your neighbor’s lights are on now, and Jamie is in your doorway holding you tight. 

You think about how awful this must be for him.

It's his dad. It’s like being a kid all over again.

You’re supposed to be the one person who he can feel safe around, but now you’re asking him to step into a volatile situation.

He got woken up in the middle of the night when he needs his sleep, which resulted in him seeing his dad get arrested.

All you can say is, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, as you try not to cry into Jamie’s pajama shirt.

He pulls back a little and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“Your place or mine?” he asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you be alone tonight.

You shake your head. “Neither,” you say. “You have training in two hours.”

“Yours,” he says as he gently backs you into the flat and shuts the door. 

“What about Roy?” you ask. Roy gets pissed if Jamie skips training.

Jamie pulls out his phone and narrates as he types: “Granddad. Won't be at training this mornin. If you’re mad about it you can go fuck yourself,” and then presses send.

You have the bizarre urge to laugh. “Jamie, you did not type that.” You try to grab his phone from him but he holds it out of your reach and shuts it off.

“Oi. We’re going to sleep and we ain’t thinkin about anything until 10 tomorrow, yeah?”

“Ok,” you say. 

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, where you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You might not be ok right now, but you will be. You’ll both be alright.

[unique-high]

clingy drunk Bada

You're not in love, You're just drunk.

a/n: hope you like it. I tried my best with it 🥺 sorry for any mistakes.

bada doesn't want you to leave her when you two get to her apartment. she likes it better when you're keeping the other side of her bed warm.

you and bada had bar hop earlier that night, but bada still wanted to drink some more. she tells you to make yourself at home like she usually does. Two glasses in her hand and a bottle of jack daniels whiskey in the other. you were sitting on the floor leaning against the front of the sofa. bada settled down beside you, shoulders brushing against each other. she pours you a little while. She gave herself half a glass.

she was feeling a buzz, and you were looking pretty under the cool glow of the living room lights. bada moves closer to you, she hangs her head down, staring at you.

“w-what?” you asked, your lips on the brim of your glass.

she smiled a little saying, “just looking at the most beautiful girl in the world.”

you laughed sitting your glass down beside your leg. “don't even start, bada.”

“start what?”

“the thing you do when you've drunk too much.”

“i do a thing?”

“yes.”

“what's the thing I do?” bada plays with a strand of your hair.

“you know.”

“no i don't. tell me y/n~”

“the thing you do where you say weird stuff...”

“i say weird stuff?” she asked. “like what?”

you flick bada's forehead and she whines.

“just drink your whiskey and leave me alone.”

after two glasses of jack daniels, bada wanted to feel closer to you. she plays with your fingers, wanting them running through her hair, and ghosting her hot flushed skin. she climbs on you, straddling your lap. her eyes are hooded. you liked the version of bada. you smile at her, and your arms go around her waist. bada is seeing hearts all around you. she thinks you got more beautiful within the last couple of minutes.

bada when she's drunk, she can be really clingy with you. from hugging you to wanting to crawl into you. She needed to touch you. bada is so cute when she's drunk, with a red flush face, to pouty lips that you want to kiss.

“i like your face.” she said quietly. her hands caress your cheeks, the palms of her hands were a little cold, her fingers softly press into your skin. “i could stare at you all day and never ever get bored.”

“there you go saying weird stuff.” you smiled at her.

bada leans into you, wrapped arms around your neck as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck. her nose rubbing against your neck. she always adored your smell. It reminds of her summer, being on a beach playing in the cool salt water.

“i...i...love you, y/n.”

you laughed at what bada said. your body lightly vibrated against hers as your arms wrap tighter around her waist.

“that's the jack daniels talking, honey.”

the fleeting of your heart and the steady hum of hers was like a silent confession.

"you remind me of cloudless blue skies in spring." bada murmurs.

It doesn't make sense to you, but it makes you happy.

You gently rock her. "you're talking nonsense now."

she pressed her lips to your neck, trailing soft, slow kisses up to your ear. she thought about wanting to kiss every inch of your skin.

heat runs up to your face feeling in your cheeks. "bada this isn't funny." you whined.

she pulls away from you. her brown eyes searching yours looking for the permissions she needed. when she finds it, she leans into you her lips lightly ghosting over yours, and the faint scent of jack daniels tickles your nose.

"but you liked it, didn't you?" she teased.

you chewed on your bottom lip before answering. "It felt nice."

"it'll feel even nicer when we kiss."

You didn't wait for bada to kiss. you. you're a little greedy smashing your lips into hers. It's sloppy, and a little clumsy. Teeth hitting teeth and biting of lips.

"fuck." you moaned into the kiss.

[helloalycia]

𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: Reaping Day is finally upon you and you know what you have to do, but there's only one problem: Lucy Gray wouldn't let you.

warning/s: again, the usual warnings that come with writing the Hunger Games stuff + potential suicidal themes.

author's note: this is the second and final part - i do hope you all like it. also i hope the person who requested it enjoys!!

one / masterlist / wattpad

Reaping Day was fast approaching, taking place next week, and I still wasn't sure what to do. I hadn't told Lucy Gray nor the Covey of Mayfair's plan, but it was killing me inside. After a lot of thought, I soon made a decision. The only thing I was certain about was that I couldn't allow Lucy Gray to have her life stolen away, not when mine was right there for the taking. So, I was going to take her place. As long as the Capitol had their tribute, they wouldn't care who it was.

But Lucy Gray would. She'd never allow it, never be so selfish as to let someone else volunteer to die for her. But I could never let her go up there to die, so with that in mind, I concocted the perfect plan to keep her alive.

The night before the reaping arrived, I'd managed to convince Lucy Gray to let me sleep over at hers, claiming I was worried and wanted to feel safe on an otherwise horrible evening. Of course, she fell for it instantly, only reminding me of how right I was to do this. She was too sweet for her own good, especially to me.

The rest of the Covey were in their rooms preparing for bed when I returned from the kitchen to Lucy Gray's room with two glasses of water.

"Here," I said, passing her the glass before taking a seat on my makeshift bed on the floor beside her actual bed.

"Thanks," she said, before taking a sip. She pulled a face and looked at her glass. "Does that taste weird to you?"

I sipped my own water and played dumb, shaking my head. "It's alright to me."

She furrowed her brows, "Huh," before downing the rest of it and putting it next to her bed.

I told myself that slipping some of my dad's crushed sleeping pills in her water was for her own good, that it needed to happen to keep her safe, but a small part of me still felt guilty for tricking her like this. I needed her to sleep in though, to miss the reaping, or at least miss the part where they call her name. After all, she couldn't stop me from volunteering if she wasn't there to witness it happen.

We both laid down in our beds, getting comfortable under our duvets. In the quiet of the evening, I could hear Tam Amber snoring from next door and smiled to myself at the familiarity. It would be the last I'd hear of it, ever.

"I don't have a good feelin' about tomorrow," Lucy Gray said quietly, earning my attention.

"Huh?"

She sounded cautious. "Something is tellin' me Mayfair has something' up her sleeve." I widened my eyes slightly, wondering if she knew what I did, but then she let out a deep, tired sigh and said, "I can't wait for it to be over."

I frowned to myself. "Me too."

She yawned, and I knew I didn't have long before she'd fall asleep, which meant I only had so much time left with her before I'd never speak to her again. That thought alone brought tears to my eyes.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm glad you've been my friend, Lucy Gray," I said honestly.

"Shut up," she said lightheartedly, an echo of a laugh present in her tired voice. "You're already sayin' goodbye and nothin' has happened."

"You never know," I said, glad that it was dark so she couldn't see me, because I wasn't sure I could say all this to her face. "Just listen, okay? I need you to know that I love you and I couldn't have asked for a better person in my life. Thank you for always being there for me. For caring."

"I love you, too," she said between a yawn, "more than you know, darlin'. And I'll tell you again tomorrow mornin', when we're still together. Idiot."

A smile formed on my lips at her teasing, but the tears slipped from my eyes because I was going to miss her so much, so much more than she would ever know.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, too, for bein' here right now," she said, though she was already slipping away, voice slowing down between each word.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Always."

She chuckled, or an attempt at a chuckle in her exhausted state. "I'll hold you to that," she said jokingly, before yawning again. "Mmm super tired. G'night..."

"Goodnight, Lucy Gray."

When I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes the next morning, I looked over at Lucy Gray and saw her fast asleep in bed. I tried to wake her, but she didn't budge, and I prayed that it would stay that away until the reaping was over.

Quickly getting ready, I could hear the others doing the same in the house. And then a succession of knocks was heard on Lucy Gray's door and Barb Azure poked her head in.

"Y/N, Lucy Gray, we've gotta–" she started, but stopped when she saw Lucy Gray still in bed. "For goodness sake, Lucy Gray, we're gonna be late! You've got–"

"I'll get her up and out of here, don't worry," I reassured Barb Azure with a nod and smile. "We'll meet you in the square."

Relieved, she nodded. "Okay, good. Good luck."

I smiled appreciatively before watching her leave, and then my smile faded and I focused on finishing getting ready. After pulling on my shoes and tying up my hair, I looked over at Lucy Gray who was still out like a light, unbothered by the noise or the daylight. She was lying on her side, duvet half covering her, and her curly hair sprawled across her pillow and in her eyes. I leaned down, moving the loose strand behind her ear, before taking in her appearance once more.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, not that it would have made a difference. "I love you, Lucy Gray, and I know you're gonna be angry and upset at first, but you'll get over it. You'll get over me. The Covey, they– they need you."

Swallowing hard and holding back my tears, sick of crying, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up and sucking up a deep breath. Pulling the duvet on her a little more, I forced myself to turn and leave, not wanting to linger any longer.

By the time I reached the square, everyone eligible for the reaping was already lined up in order of age. Just as I was about to join them, Barb Azure, who was nineteen and no longer to be considered, caught my gaze and sent me a questioning look.

'She's there', I mouthed, lying, and pointing to the lined up teens.

She didn't seem to understand, but it didn't matter because a Peacekeeper was already yelling orders at me, and then I was shoved into line and the mayor was telling everybody to quieten down. After his usual spiel about the importance of the Games, no doubt a script given to him from the Capitol, he began to dig his hand into a bag of slips with everyone's names on it. Yanking it out, he barely glanced at it before announcing what I feared.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird."

Murmurs flew around instantly, everyone looking around to find her, and I thanked my stars that she was safely asleep back home.

"Lucy Gray Baird," the mayor repeated, only intensifying the murmurs and leaving everyone confused. That was my chance.

Raising my hand, I said in the most confident voice I could muster, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Nobody knew what to do, but all eyes were on me, including the stupid cameras the Capitol brought with them, televising the whole thing. The mayor seemed surprised because it was absolute insanity that somebody would volunteer – why would you want to die?

The Peacekeepers took a moment to jump into action, eventually guiding me to the stage as they were supposed to. I passed Billy Taupe on the way, who was looking awfully guilty for someone who was once family to the Covey, and then I passed Mayfair, who was silently raging at the sight of her plans falling to pieces.

Once I stepped onstage and turned around, I caught sight of the Covey scattered in the crowd, between those that were potential tributes and those that were too old/young to take part. They seemed shocked, but I found Barb Azure's eyes and smiled a little, offering a reassuring nod. I hoped she would understand.

Lastly, my eyes found my father's, a struggle at first, considering he was tucked away at the back, forced to be present but not wanting to be. He seemed surprised at my volunteering and, for a split second, I thought he cared. But his actions remain still and I know it was probably just good riddance for him, nothing more.

I didn't expect anything less.

Only when I was on the train, being carted away to my death with the other twenty-three tributes, did I feel complete and utter relief for Lucy Gray. She was truly safe, free from the Games for another year at least, which was more than I could ask for. And maybe Mayfair would get over her vendetta by then, who knew?

Of course, now that the relief had settled in, it didn't take long for it to be replaced by concern because now I was in the Games. And I had no plan, no strategy, nothing.

After the Games...

I wasn't sure how I managed it, but I'd won. I'd really done the impossible, and barely a week later, I found myself on a train back to District Twelve with a little money and a broken arm, but otherwise alive.

Even though I'd expected to die, winning never really being an option, my survival instincts kept kicking in and I just kept getting lucky. And now here I was.

I could never forget what I'd witnessed during the Games, ever, and I wasn't sure if it was worth winning if it meant I would be haunted by all I'd experienced. But I couldn't argue with it because I was finally returning home and I didn't know what to think. It had only been a week, but I'd left a girl and was returning a murderer.

After the train pulled into the station, I was on my own and didn't even think about where my feet were taking me until I found myself walking through the Seam, back to my house. I was relieved to find my dad was at work, not in the mood to face him after all this time. I wasn't sure if anybody even knew I was alive, that I'd won, considering nobody here even had a working TV.

After all I'd endured in the Games, my father was the least of my worries. I refused to be pushed around by him anymore and knew I was going to leave as soon as I could. Even if it meant camping outside, living on the streets, I'd go. I'd figure something out, but for now, I was just lucky to be able to see my bedroom again.

As I sat on my lumpy bed and breathed a sigh of relief, I thought of the Covey, and then of Lucy Gray. Oh, how I'd missed her dearly. She was the only thought I'd had this past week, all of this being for her in the first place. I was just glad she hadn't had to endure everything I had. The guilt and shame of my actions to bring me where I was now was eating away at me, but I would have rather it been me than her.

I missed her, so so much. And I knew I couldn't wait any longer, so I immediately got up and headed straight for their house. It wasn't far from my own, though there's was much closer to the woods. When I approached, I saw Maude Ivory and Tam Amber sat outside, the former milking her goat and the latter planting some flowers. It was Maude Ivory who did a double take first, before she shouted my name and immediately ran up to me, startling me with an intense hug.

It had felt like forever since I'd had any human affection, and I couldn't help but return her hug with a relieved smile, missing her.

"I can't believe you're back!" she was saying, as the others soon began to join one by one, hugging me tightly.

"You really won!"

"We saw you on the TV one night, we were so scared."

"Thank you for volunteerin', you saved our Lucy Gray's life."

I could barely keep up with their compliments, unsure how to respond, but touched that they cared enough to be here.

And then I saw Lucy Gray, finally, as she walked out from the back door of the house, mouth agape when she noticed me. My eyebrows raised a little, hopeful, upon seeing her again. It hadn't been long, and yet it had felt like forever since I'd last seen her.

Barb Azure began to motion to the others to follow her back inside. "Let's give them some space, everyone."

They began to leave, doing just that, and without their presence, I suddenly felt exposed before Lucy Gray. I straightened up, trying to look a little more presentable, but acutely self conscious of my black eye, scarred lip and broken arm.

"Hey," I said, embarassed at how quiet it came out.

She stopped before me, watching me like I was a ghost. "You're really here."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't think I would be, but somehow, I won."

But it wasn't somehow, was it? I knew what I did to win.

She suddenly frowned, looking betrayed. "You drugged me."

Realising she was upset, I said, "It was only a sleeping pill."

Her stare hardened. "You knew. You knew it was going to be my name."

I cowered away slightly, saying, "I overheard–"

"You lied to me," she cut me off, "drugged me, volunteered like a fool and–"

"It couldn't be you," I told her sternly. "You're needed here. They need you and I couldn't let you be chosen because of some silly feud, not when I found out. It had to be me. Nobody would miss me and–"

"I would!" she shouted, and I realised her eyes were full of tears as she glared at me. "You asshole, I would! I did! I needed you! You don't get to trick me and make that choice for me and just leave!"

I felt horribly guilty as she spoke, but deep down, I didn't regret my actions.

"Lucy Gray, you would've gotten over me," I said calmly, looking between her eyes. "You would've."

She narrowed her eyes with a glare. "Fuck you."

"Lucy–"

"No, fuck you!" she yelled, shoving me backwards. "You don't get to say that! Like you know how I feel about you!"

I pressed my lips together, feeling my heart ache as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Fuck you," she murmured, before turning around and storming away, past the house and towards the meadow.

I frowned, watching her leave and feeling immense guilt pressing on my chest. I'd never seen her so upset, not in all the time I'd known her, and knowing I was the reason for it only made this whole thing worse.

Barb Azure left the house and approached me with an apologetic frown on her lips.

"I heard what happened," she said sympathetically. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"We're all grateful for what you did," she said. "She is, too. A small part. But mostly, she's upset because she grieved you. Tried to, at least. She thought you were dead."

"I was supposed to be, if it helps," I mumbled. "I didn't think I'd be coming back here, facing her like this."

It was supposed to be a faceless goodbye. She wasn't supposed to see me again, nor I her. Now, I'd only made things worse.

"She missed you so much," Barb Azure told me knowingly. "She's angry and stubborn, but she missed you, Y/N. Go to her."

I looked up, seeing the encouraging smile on her lips, and figured if anyone knew Lucy Gray more than she did, it was her family. So, with that slight positivity in mind, I followed in the direction of Lucy Gray with hope to fix this. It didn't take long for me to find her in the meadow, sat by her favourite tree and hunched over, crying into her hands.

I tried to approach quietly, but she noticed and suddenly stood up, turning around to glare at me through her tears.

"What do you want? Go away!" she ordered.

I ignored her, taking a step forward, and she only yelled at me more.

"I said go away! I don't wanna speak to you right now!"

Again, I ignored her and continued to approach her.

"Leave me alone, you asshole! I said leave!"

I hugged her before she could protest even more, my good arm tightening around her shoulders desperately, and then she finally stopped shouting and hugged me back just as tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill because I never thought I'd see her again, let alone hug her like my life depended on it.

"I'm sorry," I said into her shoulder. "I'm sorry a million times over, Lucy Gray. I never wanted to hurt you, but I don't regret what I did. I'd volunteer every single time."

She gripped my shirt in response, but didn't say anything. I swallowed hard before pulling away reluctantly, meeting her eyes with regret.

"I'm a fool, I know," I agreed with her words from before. "I'm sorry."

Her lip quivered as her eyes darted around my face, taking it in, fixating on the bruise and my scarred lip. She lifted her hand, touching my cheek tenderly, and my breath was caught in my throat at the attention.

"It weren't supposed to be you," she whispered with a broken voice.

"Nor you," I reminded her. "Mayfair cheated."

She shook her head, frowning and meeting my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't get involved, Y/N."

I exhaled through my nose, a sad smile on my lips. "I couldn't help it."

She didn't say anything, simply stared at me, and then she took a seat on the log next to the tree and I joined her, unsure what to do or say.

"I can't believe you're here," she admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her eyes flickered between mine thoughtfully, before lowering to my broken arm in a sling. "How did it happen?"

I looked down at it, hesitating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said quickly, regretfully, but I shook my head.

"No, it's–" I paused, frowning shamefully. "It's how I won."

She grabbed my hand suddenly, making me look up at her.

"You don't have to tell me," she reassured with a nod.

I looked down at her hand on mine, nerves creeping in. "You wanna know, but... you won't look at me the same. And I don't want to lose you."

"Whatever you did in that arena isn't a reflection of who you are," she said with such a determination that I almost believed her. "It was life or death. And if it meant you're here now, alive, then I don't care."

I closed my eyes, nodding. "You're right. I– you're right."

She was patient, to my relief, and it took a moment for me to find my words.

"I'd spent most of the Games hiding," I began to tell her, comforted by the warmth of her hand in mine. "I avoided confrontation where I could, but one kid, he– he cornered me and had a knife. Managed to cut my lip... I disarmed him and ran with it. Used it to defend myself, injuring whoever got in my way, but never killing. I couldn't– I couldn't do that..."

...I was running, one of the others having found me in the tunnels and chasing me out into the open where they could no doubt kill me with ease. My lungs were screaming for air, burning with each step I took, but I kept pushing myself until I was in the stands. The other tribute followed me though, carrying a spear and swinging it my way.

I avoided each swing, knife in hand but myself unable to do anything with it, not without getting in close. And then they swung again, making me dodge, and slammed the blunt end of their spear into my back, pushing me over the edge of the stands and to the ground below with a loud crack. I would have a screamed at the unbearable pain from my arm, but I'd slammed my head onto the ground, leaving me dazed.

My vision was spinning and my arm was throbbing and I didn't know what was what, but then I heard someone's feet land behind me and I knew I had to play dead, my last chance at surviving. Through one open eye, I could see footsteps approaching, but also the glint of my knife which had dropped beside me during the fall. I stayed still, practically holding my breath as the other tribute leaned down to check if I was alive. And before they could try to turn me over, I grabbed the knife and stabbed the first thing I could touch.

Only when I heard the sounds of gurgling did I look to see what I'd done. My knife was lodged into their neck, their pleading eyes begging mine as I scrambled back out of fear, watching them die a slow and painful death without meaning to. I was certain I could never un-hear those noises, or un-see their death...

Tears wet my face when I finished telling Lucy Gray the story, and I was trembling slightly as the memories flashed in my head.

"I didn't want to," I told her, shaking my head guiltily. "I didn't. But it was the only way. The only way to be done. I– I'm not a murderer. I'm not. I'm–"

She pulled me in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "It's okay. It's okay, Y/N."

I cried into her shoulder, but it didn't make me feel any better. I'd murdered someone, and now I'd live with the reminder forever.

"You did what you had to do," she tried to console me, but I knew it wasn't entirely true.

It wasn't over, not really. I'd see their faces everywhere, forever.

"I wish you didn't have to do that," she said after a moment, pulling away but holding my hand between hers. "And I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking my place, even though I didn't want you to. You saved my life. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of your own."

She kissed my cheek before hugging me again, sighing contently.

"By the way, if you ever try to tell me how I feel, I'll kill you myself," she muttered into my shoulder. "I'm not losing you, ever."

I stayed quiet, wrapping my arm around her instead. I knew I'd do this all again if it meant she was safe. But she wouldn't understand.

By the time word spread about my 'triumph' in the Games and return to District Twelve, I'd already moved out of my dad's place. He barely uttered a word to me, neither did he try stopping me. I wasn't sure if it was because he knew what I was capable of, or if he'd just been waiting for me to leave, but it was easier than I'd imagined.

My only choices were being homeless, moving into the community home full of kids with no parents or staying with the Covey. Naturally, it was easy to choose the latter, especially when Lucy Gray insisted I stayed with them.

It was easy at first, easier than I expected, to make myself at home and try to continue my life as it once was before the Games. I went back to work as soon as possible, even with one arm broken, did as many shifts as I could before the summer ended and I'd be back at school with less time to make money and afford food. I accompanied the Covey to the Hob, helping them prepare for their sets and encouraging people to donate money for their performances. It was almost normal.

But at night, that was when I couldn't seem to escape the true reality of what I'd been through. I'd fall asleep, no problem, and then my nightmares would feature different versions of the Games, bloody kills of the other tributes, the knot of fear in my chest expanding until I woke up in cold sweats and with wet eyes.

I couldn't tell anybody, especially not the Covey or Lucy Gray. I couldn't be a burden to them, not after all they'd done for me, but it was getting unbearable. The faces, they wouldn't stop haunting me. And the scar on my lip that wasn't fading only seemed to serve as a permanent reminder, frightening me because maybe I would never escape it. Maybe I'd suffer forever, a consequence of winning.

It happened again, tonight, and I woke with a start, eyes shooting open and mistaking the shadow on the ceiling for a predator in the dark. It took me a moment to remember where I was, what was real. Lucy Gray's bedroom. I was in the bed they'd set up for me, opposite hers, and the curtains were drawn, casting a ghastly blue glow around the room.

Wiping my eyes, I moved my legs over the side of the bed and glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was sound asleep. I was careful not to wake her as I slipped into some shoes and left the room, practicing the same caution as I left the house completely and sat outside on the garden furniture. The fresh air did much better to wake me up, reminding me where I was, and I simply sat there under the dark sky, trying to collect myself.

It was always the same. Some nights were worse than others, like tonight, where I'd be forced to step outside for some fresh. Other nights I could just brush it off and force myself to sleep. Would it ever get better?

I wasn't sure how long passed, but I heard the back door of the house opening and turned around, ready to apologise to whoever I'd woken. To my surprise, it was Lucy Gray.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," I said quickly, straightening up. "I can go back in. I–"

"Stop," she said softly, before taking a seat on the chair next to me, eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed thickly, unable to hold her stare.

"I've tried to give you space," she said, the fatigue laced in her voice. "Since you've been here. I've seen you leave in the middle of the night... I'm worried, Y/N. Talk to me. Please."

Embarrassed I'd been caught out, I tried to reassure her. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

She scoffed quietly. "Are we not close enough that you shouldn't lie to me?"

I glanced at her, sighing when I saw the worry looking back at me.

"It's the Games, isn't it?" she asked carefully. "You're dreamin' of them."

I didn't trust my voice, so I could only nod weakly. She tensed her jaw slightly before moving her chair closer to me and pulling me in for a side hug. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she squeezed comfortingly, and I melted under her touch.

"Wake me when it happens," she encouraged. "It's not nice bein' alone when you've just had a nightmare."

"I'm not doing that," I started, a million reasons on the tip of my tongue for why I wouldn't subject her to that, but she cut me off pleadingly.

"Please. It'll make me feel better, knowin' I can at least be with you. Knowin' you're not alone. That I can help."

I didn't reply, unsure I could agree when I knew I just couldn't do it.

"I'm gonna push the beds together if you don't," she added, lightheartedly but with a touch of concern still present.

Nonetheless, it brought a smile to my lips and I exhaled sharply through my nose, a sad attempt at a laugh. "Okay."

She squeezed my shoulder in response and then straightened up, offering me a tired smile. "Come on."

"What?"

"You're not goin' back to sleep, clearly, so let's go," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

"Go where?" I asked, though let her lead me out of the garden.

"The lake, duh."

I didn't fight it and let her tug me along, walking down to the lake. It was quiet out, especially between us, and the mindless task of walking through the woods with her hand in mine gave me something else to focus on other than my nightmares.

When we reached the lake, we took a seat at the edge of the dock again, just like last time.

"No midnight swims, please," I warned her playfully, and she laughed quietly.

"I promise," she muttered, before looking out at the water.

My eyes took in her profile for a moment, following the slope of her nose, the point of her cupid's bow, the curve of her lips... even in the dark, with only a minuscule of moonlight casting shadows across her face, she was stunning. I wondered if she knew the effect she could have on me just by being here.

"Thank you," I said, unable to keep my gratitude in for much longer. "For everything."

She rolled her eyes playfully, continuing to look ahead. "Oh, shut up."

I furrowed my brows. "Huh?"

She gave me a disapproving glance. "After all that's happened, you don't need to thank me."

"I do," I said simply, and she rolled her eyes again.

"Seriously, shut up before I make you."

Knowing I wouldn't win this one, I exhaled softly and looked away, eyes subconsciously tracing the shimmers of light in the still water.

"Why did you do it?" Lucy Gray suddenly asked, playfulness gone.

"What?"

She paused. I wasn't sure she'd continue, and then she said, "Volunteer." I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off, adding, "And don't say it's because nobody would miss you. You knew that I would have. So, why?"

I pressed my lips together firmly, suddenly feeling warm. It was such an easy question, with an even easier answer. But I couldn't bring myself to say it for the same reason I'd never told her. I was a coward. But didn't she deserve to know the truth? Didn't I deserve to finally come clean? To lift this weight from my shoulders?

My heart was thumping ever so loudly for the girl next to me. I'd faced life or death situations, surely I could do this.

"Y/N?" she prompted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips, gaze focused on the darkness ahead. "I'm in love with you."

The silence was deafening, unlike before when it was welcomed. Not even a gasp or a slight movement from beside me betrayed her reaction, her surprise. I was too paralysed with fear of rejection to look at her. Instead, I stayed put, certain I'd be stuck there in that moment forever, never hearing a response. But then finally:

"I thought that was it. I just had to hear you say it."

My jaw tensed as I digested her words, eyes still fixated on the water. She knew? This whole time, she knew?

"I love you too," she murmured, and in my peripheral, I could see her staring ahead also. "That's why I hated that you did it."

Unable to act cowardly any longer, I forced myself to look to her. She did the same, knocking the breath from me when her dark eyes met mine. It was horribly intimidating, even though she was doing nothing different. Except now she knew. She finally knew. And I knew that she knew. And that was different enough to terrify me.

"Never again," she muttered. "You have to promise me and actually keep it."

And just like that, I was reminded why I'd volunteered in the first place. Coward or not, it was only ever for her.

"I can't," I admitted.

She scrunched her face with hurt. "And why not?"

I grimaced. "I just told you why."

A frown appeared on her lips, jaw clenching in annoyance. Her eyes flickered between mine defiantly, and I knew I was upsetting her again.

"I'm sorry," I said, tilting my head.

"I hate you," she said lowly.

I shook my head, holding her intense gaze. "Not according to what you just said."

Her lips curled inwards, frustrated, and after one last glance, she leaned forward and kissed me hard. My eyes fluttered close as she caressed my cheek, holding me close. I slipped my uninjured arm around her waist, revelling in her warmth and the softness of her lips. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. The only kiss, yes, but one I'd never want to compete with.

When we pulled apart, her hand was still on my cheek, and mine still on her waist, and I worried that if I opened my eyes, something would go wrong. That this would all be a dream.

"You should've told me sooner," she murmured, lips ghosting mine.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, instantly submerged in hers. "Not everyone can speak their mind as confidently as you can, Lucy Gray."

She licked her lips, drawing my gaze to them yet again. "I can't always. Clearly."

I looked down, shaking my head slightly. "I couldn't."

Her thumb stroked my cheek tenderly. "Not even after? When you came home?"

It was hilarious, how easy she made it all sound. I raised an eyebrow at her, trying not to smile. "You don't know how you make me feel, do you?" Her expression softened, and I continued, "Imagine standing on the edge of a cliff. Then jumping off."

"Scared?" she asked, growing worried, but I shook my head.

"Free," I corrected, growing warm at my honesty, it coming way too easily for once. "And that in itself is scary, isn't it? But scary in a good way. I– I've never felt like that before."

She exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're not so bad at speaking your mind, it seems."

I breathed out through my nose, mirroring her smile. Her thumb outlined my lips lightly, tracing my scar, and then resting on my cheek again. She was thoughtful, eyes staring at my face, but distant.

"That feeling you described," she started, voice smooth and comforting, "it goes both ways."

I wondered how it could. I'd never imagined myself giving her a similar comfort, nor her feeling so strongly about me as I did with her. But then she kissed me again, and I didn't need to think about it anymore.