#and i still drove my ass home from work

[blackseafoam]

Whumptober day 04. hallucinations l Hypnosis l sensory deprivation l "you're still alive in my head"

WC: 805

Warnings: Mild injury, ocular migraine, mentioned animal death (natural causes)

Stuenn felt the flicking twigs of the underbrush grabbing at his waxed anorak and woolen mittens as he trudged ahead. The waterproof clothing now merely decorative, having sweated through all of his underlayers. The musher squinted at the path ahead of him.

It's getting worse. Stuenn had experienced ocular migraines before, but never this bad, and the timing could not have been worse.

He had no way to know how long it had been since he lost his dog team, but the sun had just begun to set the last time he'd seen their furry hides disappear down the trail. He was far out on the Taiga, exploring a new trapping route. Sure, his people knew where he was, but it was still several days journey back home.

The clear sky was his only saving grace, with the canopy of bright moonlight and stars to orient by, Stuenn could see his path. He followed the pawprints and runner tracks in the snow by the cool light. The panic subsided for a while, and Stuenn jogged in the snow for hours after his runaway team. Hoping to find them tangled beyond the ability to keep running, or the sled snagged on a tree.

The unfortunately familiar gray haze began in the bottom of the field of view in his left eye. No no, not now. Stuenn futilely rubbed at his eye over and over again as he kept jogging through the woods. It was a matter of minutes before he had no vision in his left eye, and the haze was encroaching on his right, but he couldn't stop. The lack of eyesight was dangerous, but the cold was deadly. The damp layers under his jacket and pants would make quick work of his body heat if he stopped moving.

While using his other senses to navigate as best he could, he found himself in some bushes, which were rare in the taiga (except near rivers). At this point he was guessing where to go. The panic had clouded his judgement thicker than the blank haze, which now reduced his vision to a wide pinhole.

He stepped out into nothingness.

The musher's chest constricted as his inner ear told him he was falling, fast. He reached out by instinct, grabbing thin branches that snapped instantly. Something did catch him though, his mukluk held fast between two tree roots as his body pivoted over the edge. Stuenn groaned in pain as his ankle held his body weight at an unnatural angle. Grabbing at his knife, he tried swiping at the roots with the sharp instrument. He missed. Missed again, and again. He swiped so violently that his body began to rock back and fourth as he did so.

The boot slipped off.

Stuenn felt his left side hit something on the way down, scraping his face, but slowing his descent as he then rolled down a rocky canyon wall and onto the snowbank below.

So the trapper found himself. Face down in the snow, with only one boot, still gripping his survival knife.

A voice sounded, on the edge of his auditory periphery. It spoke a lilting incomprehensible sentence.

Sluggishly lifting his head, Stuenn attempted to scan his surroundings. Breath quickening in instant panic as he was suddenly reminded that he was almost completely blinded, save for a hole no bigger than the palm of his hand at the end of an outstretched arm. He propped himself up painfully, noticing his blood in the snow as he looked down.

He heard something else. Panting. The panting of a dog team going by, the sliding of runners on a nicely packed trail. Raising his gaze again, he caught sight of a pale dog standing before him.

Vikki.

His first dog, the first sled dog he could call all his own. The dog that had lived to a healthy 17 years old. The dog that had been in his life longer than not. She stood with her head low, glowering down at him.

"You're going the wrong way, dumbass."

The voice glided by on a wind rather than coming from Vikki.

"Am I dead?" Stuenn huffed, then had to gasp for air after the effort of speaking, holding his head at an awkward angle to see his long lost companion.

"No. Get up you limp herring, we've got work to do."

"I lost my boot."

"Excuses. I have no boots, you don't see me whining about it." Vik began to turn away and walk into the darkness.

"I can't see, slow down." Stuenn struggled to his feet. Once his one booted, and one merely socked feet were underneath him he staggered forward.

His knife laid in the snow behind, forgotten. The loyal tool would have shed a tear if it had feelings.

[jaesblogstuff]

You know where home is at, don’t you now. (RAWR)

⸻

You don’t text him. You just show up.

You knock twice, the way he taught you, before slipping into the apartment like it’s your own. It isn’t. But that’s never stopped you before. Nothing about this should work. But here you are.

Same black hoodie. Same Glock under the pillow. Same grin he doesn’t bother to hide when he sees you in that skirt.

“Thought you had plans with your man,” Simon mutters, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I do,” you say. “They just changed.” He laughs once, low and sharp. Pulls you in by the waist and slaps your ass like you’re late to something.

“He know you wear that shit for me?” You hum against his mouth. “He don’t need to know everything.”

Simon Riley came from chaos. He never hid it. Said he was born somewhere hot and broke and loud. Said he had a couple acres out there, some fake papers, and a name that didn’t exist on any real record. Told you in that lazy, deep tone, like it was nothing. Like surviving shit like that was just how it goes.

“Heartbreakers,” he called them. “Women like you.”

But you were the one who stitched him back together. Drove him to court dates. Held his phone when he couldn’t stop shaking. Slept beside him when he woke up screaming from the past. You took him to Belgium once, just to say you did. Showed him a world where no one knew what he’d done. Or who he’d killed.

You made him feel safe. And that’s dangerous. Because now he needs you. And Simon Riley does not like needing anyone.

He doesn’t say much when you push him back onto the mattress, straddle him with nothing on under the skirt. He just grips your hips and grinds up once, slow and cruel, watching your mouth part around a breathless little sound that isn’t a moan but close.

You ride him until your legs shake. Until the room smells like sweat and smoke and that damn hoodie is halfway off and his tattooed arm is flexed around your waist. Until you’re ruined. Gutted. Fucked open and sore. And still, it’s not enough.

Later, when you’re on your back and the sheets are wet and the cigarette’s burning slow in his hand, he doesn’t pass it. Just lets it dangle from his lips while he stares at the you from the chair.

“You still fuckin’ him?” he asks, casual as sin. You don’t answer. Not right away. Just stretch like a cat, long and slow, letting him watch every inch of you shift under his gaze.

“Why?” you murmur. “You jealous?”

He scoffs, eyes half-lidded. “Nah. Just like knowin’ who I’m takin’ it from.” And maybe that should sting. But it doesn’t. Not from him. From him, it drips like honey. Dark, possessive, and thick with truth.

You slide off the bed, sore between the legs, and you make him wait. You don’t speak. Don’t ask. You just start to crawl. Palms to the cold floor. Eyes locked on his knees. You move slow, deliberate, like every step is a confession. A promise. A surrender.

Simon watches, legs spread wide, smoke curling around his face like a crown. “You done actin’ like you got options?” he mutters, voice rough and low. You smile up at him, teeth bared like a threat. “You scared I might?”

He leans forward, catches your jaw in one hand, thumb pressing against your lip. “Nah,” he says. “I know you won’t.” He slips two fingers into your mouth—down your tongue, past comfort. Until you gag just enough to make his eyes gleam.

“That’s my girl.”

And God help you, but you like the way that sounds. You always have.

You crawl into his lap, straddle him again. The cocky tilt of your mouth dares him to keep playing. “I didn’t fuck him,” you finally answered. “But you were thinking it.”

Simon doesn’t even blink. Just grips your waist like a man anchoring himself. “I was thinkin’ you’ve got a smart fuckin’ mouth for someone who crawls back to me beggin’.” You laugh, breath hot against his cheek. “That's why you kept beggin’? Couldn’t take not having me?”

“Beggin’?” He grabs your ass, lifts you, and drops you on his cock in one rough motion that punches the air from your lungs. “Sweetheart,” he growls, deep and close, “I own you.” And the sick part? You love how true that feels.

You fuck like it’s the last time. Like this is a war and he’s claiming the only piece of ground that ever meant anything. Your body is his battlefield, and he doesn’t just win—he conquers.

“You like when I crawl to you,” you whisper. Simon grins. “I like remindin’ you where you fuckin’ belong.”

You bite his shoulder. “Then remind me.”

He flips you, fucks you harder.

And you never forget.

[lizardho]

I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️

[bunny-jpeg]

thinking about older brother’s best friend!max who takes little innocent virgin you home after you got too drunk at a party. you trust him so much and he’s sooo dreamy but you can’t figure out how you ended up in his lap with his fingers up your miniskirt, other hand locked around your neck and skimpy lace thong stuffed in your mouth. but you don’t want to annoy him when he’s finally paying attention to you, so you furiously nod and drool when he tells you to be his good girl, his stupid little slut, and bullies his big, aching cock into your pussy. it’s soo wet and sticky but it doesn’t matter cause maxie promised he was wearing a condom…right? Right?

thank you so much for sending this to me! this is a crazy ass prompt and i love it. thank you so much! and for the people at home, send me your shit! i love insane prompts to write! give them to me, i need to write! i went with the tried and trued method of a leclerc!reader so add a little extra zest to it. i changed a few things around so i hope that's okay, all the pieces are still there just a few tweaks!! i hope you enjoy <3

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, leclerc!reader, drunk sex, dubious consent, lying, unprotected sex, size difference/kink, crybaby!reader, dark-ish fic, missionary position, fingering, (slight) choking, (technical) virgin!reader, filth(!!!)

"thank you so much for doing this. i told her not to go out tonight because i was out of town and couldn't get her if she needed help. you're a big help, mate. i owe you." charles' voice was clear on the other end of the phone.

max was grabbing his keys, "you owe me nothing, charles. i'm happy to help. wasn't up to much else tonight." he got his shoes on and headed out the door, "i'll let you know when i get her." then hung up the phone.

he got in his car and drove to the club you were supposed to be. max had known you for about as long as he had known charles, you were the curious little thing that liked being around your brother. you were close in age, but max hadn't seen you in years.

charles said that university had prevented you from ever really hanging around as much as you used to. which was a shame because max always thought you were cute, even if you were a little bit a cry baby.

he pulled up to the address of where you were supposed to be and got out of the car. it was late into the evening and there were a few people outside. the sight of him turned a few heads and some whispers. but he had to pick you out of the crowd.

he leaned against the car and did the tried and true method of finding a leclerc. he cupped his hands around his mouth and said, "hey! leclerc!"

and then as it had worked a million times with charles over the years, your voice rang out, "holy shit, max! what are you doing here?" and you got out of the crowd in front of the club.

that was when max's heart stopped.

he remembered you in your high school uniform and baggy t-shirts with various bands on them. he remembered when you had braces and that bad haircut in tenth year. but, now, are a twenty-something year old woman, you were beautiful.

you practically stumbled over to him, you tripped over the curb and against his chest. but you clung to the front of his t-shirt, "oh my god, it's you!" you howled laughter, "where's charlie?"

max steadied you back on your feet and looked over you to see the other people who were murmuring. he looked down at you, his hands still on your shoulders, "i'm going to take you back to my place tonight." even though charles said to bring you back to his place, there would be a slight detour.

plus, what if something happened? max needed to protect you, or at least he had self appointed himself with the role.

"god, i haven't seen you in like what, five years? still got those chubby cheeks though." you giggled drunkenly as you pinched at his face.

max could feel the heat rise in his face, didn't help that your plump breasts were pressed against him and he got a good view of your cleavage. he said to you, "c'mon, let's get out of here." he gave you a smile, "i think we're turning too many heads."

you nodded innocently before max helped you into the car. even going as far as to buckle to you in and closing the door. as he rounded the car he exhaled deeply, this was not what he was expecting.

you looked at him and giggled, "holy shit, it's actually you. why are you picking me up? i called charlie?"

max sighed and buckled himself in, he patted your knee, "how much have you had to drink? your brother is out of the country for most of the summer break."

a few seconds ticked by before you made an 'o' shape with your mouth, you snapped your fingers and pointed to max, "i was supposed to call lorenzo!"

max's eyebrows knitted together, "how much have you had to drink?"

you shrugged, "i don't know. there was this nice guy who kept buying me drinks and he was like super nice. but then, my friends kinda got me away from him and told me to call my brother and i said, 'which one?', because you know. i have three brothers and i don't very well want arthur to see me THIS drunk so i called charles... but i wasn't supposed to call charles, i was supposed to call lorenzo."

max wanted to kiss you really badly at that moment. and when he squeezed your thigh for reassurance, you moaned. then max's brain went silent for a moment.

you looked at each other and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you said, "sorry.... over sensitive." you licked your lips, "you can still hold my thigh if you want."

this was going to be a long night, and max wanted to see how deep this could go. after all, you both had about five years to make up.

"i hate being this drunk." you whined, as you padded across his home. you were out of the skimpy dress you wore to the club, much to max's pleasure. you looked better in no bra, one of his t-shirts and his socks that you pulled as high as they could go, "i wish i could stop being drunk the moment i got home."

he was on the couch, a glass of water and some tylonel was on the table. he patted his thigh and suggested, "i think i know something that can help." his brain had been trying to think of a clever way to get you closer to him, but you were too easy.

"water and rest?" you asked as you got closer to him. your arms across your chest.

he leaned back into the sofa a little and said, "no. why don't you come here to find out?" he could tell in the slight wave of your stance that you were still quite drunk. he chuckled as he watched you come over to him, were all leclercs curious like cats?

you perched yourself on his thigh and he pulled you into his lap. being so close to you made his cock throb in his jeans. you yelped and admitted, "i'm a virgin!"

"what?"

you looked at him so innocently it almost broke the driver's brain in half. you had your hands up near your face and your bottom lip was wobbling, "i've... i've never had sex before. i mean... i technically let a guy finger me." you swallowed, not knowing why you were admitting this, "but.. but he didn't even make me cum, i lied to him and faked it."

max's hungry gaze remained on you, "so... so no one's actually... had sex with you."

you looked like you were going to cry. you were in your twenties and a virgin (he wasn't going to acknowledge the curl of jealousy in his gut at the thought of some loser at your school poorly trying to finger you). that had all the lights going off in max's brain.

leclerc's little sister was a virgin, drunk and on the verge of tears in max's condo. shivering like a leaf. max never thought of himself in terms of animals, but at moment he felt like a big scary lion. and you a poor little deer. the signature leclerc doe eyes only added to his point.

"it's alright." he said, "how about this, you let me finger you properly. i don't think your technical first time should've been spent with you faking an orgasm."

you had to admit, you had feelings for max. when you were younger and your brother would race him, you'd follow him around afterwards asking about max. it annoyed the hell out of your brother.

even the guy who fingered you was almost an exact fit to max, the blond-brown hair, blue eyes and a big nose. but it didn't quite cut it. max had been the subject of your fantasies for years now.

you blushed, "i mean... i don't want to force you or anything. i don't want it to be a pity fuck."

he laughed and curled a strong arm around you, "no, no, not you. to make you cum would be an honour." catch more flies with honey than vinegar. catch the pretty sister of a fellow driver with soft words.

he got your panties off with a little help and put them in your mouth. the sight of your mouth full of your lacy thong made all the blood in his body pool into his cock. he brushed your cheek and chuckled at your lack of resistance, "aw, does someone like to be roughed up? i bet you're just so used to everyone treating you like glass. the only daughter." he cupped your pussy with his wide hand, "how would charles feel about this? or lorenzo? they'd have my head." he kissed at your neck.

you whined, liquor swam in your head still as you squirmed a little, "don't talk about my brothers while you're fingering me." you tried to say around the panties in your mouth.

max grazed his fingers across your pussy, "alright, alright." his breath was hot in your ear as his other hand came and was placed around your throat. he shuddered a little, oh you were just a perfect fit weren't you?

now max really had to make sure that you weren't going to run off to your private university and fooled around with other boys.

maybe a baby would have to do.

he held you close to him by the throat and played with your pussy. soon he sank two digits into you and you whined around the panties in your mouth. you felt a hot flash go through you.

this was totally different, you felt the pleasure bloom in your gut as he roughly fingered you. you held onto his wrists, but remained pressed to him as he occasionally rubbed his clothed erection against your backside.

"oh, you're beautiful." he said softly, "you are so painfully beautiful. i'm surprised you haven't made yourself a whore at school. why? scared that your brothers would kill whoever touched their sister?" he kissed your cheek as he heard your whimper.

your body felt loose and your brain felt like it was working overtime. it was beyond adorable, the little cry baby with tears in her eyes. don't worry, max will make it all better.

"but you don't want anyone else, do you? you wanna be my good girl? you know so little about sex, poor thing. but don't worry, i'll make you a nice little whore for my cock." he pressed on your throat a little harder as he really started to work his fingers inside of you.

you didn't know what to think, everything around you felt oppressive but the liquor and lust short-wired your brain. you nodded and tried to speak around the fabric in your mouth, but it all came out like a jumbled mess.

max could feel the heat rise in his body, his cock grew more stiff. he liked the sight of this. you in his clothes, letting him explore your body. you were untouched territory. all for max's taking.

you wanted to cover your face from the embarrassment of being finger-fucked by your crush. but max squeezed your throat a little tighter.

"don't hide yourself from me, i want to see it all." he pressed a hard kiss onto your shoulder and watched your shudder. your pussy clenched around his fingers which only spurred him to keep bullying them into you.

you whined something around the panties in your mouth and max continued his kisses. you felt amazing on him. he hissed against your back as you hit your climax and whined loudly. you coated his entire hand in your wetness.

max moved you by your neck and kissed you on the cheek, he said, "good girl. see, orgasms aren't that hard." he let go of your throat and took the panties out of your mouth.

you were panting heavily as you said, "holy shit." your heart was hammering and you felt hot all over. you felt his arms around you waist and his mouth in your ear.

"we're not done yet." he said.

before you knew it, you were on max's bed. the shirt you had borrowed was on the floor and your bra was right next to it. when max took off your socks, you whined and he pressed all his weight on top of you. leaving one sock left on you.

he was naked on top of you, his cheeks were pink and he felt hot all over. you could see your eye bug out a little from the sight of his naked body. he pulled away soon after and grabbed you by the hips then rubbed his hard cock against your slick pussy.

"i wish your brother brought you to the track more." he chuckled as he continued to rub up against you, "you would've been so cute hanging around, you were always so curious. but, i don't know if i could contain myself if you were around often."

you blushed, "oh c'mon, stop it, max. you're going to kill me!"

max was over you, "i would never do that. i like you very much alive. you're perfect. i think it would be the best strategy your brother ever did if he had you around the paddock. i'd have to fight off every other driver to get to you."

you admitted, "i'd only want you, max."

max grinned, "is that why you're letting me take your virginity? giving yourself over to me? i bet a part of you wished i showed up, maybe that was all the plan for you." he pressed the tip of his cock up against your entrance, "someone has a crush." he was teasing, but the look on your face showed that he had you all figured out.

you squeaked, "i do! i'm sorry! i've had one for years!" you looked like you were going to cry again.

max almost came from the sight before him, he swallowed to keep himself together as he reached for your face with one hand and looked into your eyes, "you like me."

in your inebriated state you replied, "more like love you."

he chuckled, "really now? after all the times i beat your brother, you had all these feelings for me." he pressed his chest up against you, as he guided his cock into your slick slit.

you clutched onto his shoulders and tried not too tense up too much. this was a wet dream come true. you croaked, "i've always have."

"well, aren't i lucky." he said as he kissed you gently, "taking the virginity of the most beautiful woman i've ever seen." he was a snug fit in you but, he peppered your cheeks with kisses to help relax you. thankfully you were painfully wet.

he felt a curl of possession in his gut. like he needed to have you by his side. it wouldn't be hard to convince charles to let the two of you date, even if he was protective of you. he knew that max was a good man, he'd be a loving, caring boyfriend. maybe even an eventual husband.

he moved his hips slowly, not to push too much on you at once. you were still painfully drunk, all of these were admissions under intoxication. the consent of the situation was murky at best, but the way you looked at he pushed his cock into you excited him.

"do you want this?" he asked.

you nodded, your gaze unfocused, "of course. why, why would you ask that?" you really were so cute. your brain was polluted with liquor and pleasure, maybe he should've put you to bed before this all got out of hand.

but in all fairness, max was a little too far gone. he always held feelings for you, he was just better at covering them up. but, as he thrusted into you, your legs around his waist as he rutted against you. it was like the little flame from his youth came alive into an inferno.

oh, this was the woman he was meant to marry.

he kissed you once more, and picked up the pace. he held your sides, feeling your warmth against him as he felt the intense feelings bloom in your chest. call him an obsessive freak, but he should've known all those years ago.

stupid teen max, look what was right in front of him! you two could've been married by now. had a family and everything. but as he was balls deep inside of you, he believed everything happened for a reason.

you were now in his arms, under him as he moved against you. the blunt end of his cock, hit against the beginning of your cervix. a promise of what was to come. that you'd get nice and pregnant by him.

by the time he was finished with you, you were going to be at least five percent dutch if not more, you two had a whole week together. this was just the start. you two lazily made out.

the lust throbbed in your head as the liquor still coursed through your system. your mouth felt dry but you couldn't do much else but lie under him. his kisses were domineering and strong. his cock was buried up inside of you like it belonged there.

he believed that you two were two halves of a same whole. he wish he had gotten a glimpse of you sooner. seen how much you matured, he melted a little at the feeling of you. beyond perfect for him.

the pleasure was getting to your head, even in your intoxicated state. you clung to him like a life line as he moved against you. your sweet noises and that your eyes were barely open.

"beautiful." he said, "and all mine."

you swallowed, "you're wearing a condom, right?"

he staggered in his pace for a moment, but he gave you best media smile as he lied through his teeth, "of course, can't have any accidents." he kissed you once more. and you just melted into it so easily.

you then let out a sweet noise as you felt orgasm grip you. you panted heavily as the lust flooded your brain. you held onto him tightly as he continued to move against you. this all felt like a dream, and the noises you made as you came had max panting heavily.

"please."

"i need you." you said with tears in your eyes. the orgasm has torn through you and you were left a sputtering, hot mess under him.

he continued to rut against you, his pace was erratic as he moved against you. his heart raced at the sight of you. he was fully gone for you, he wanted you. tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. he wanted his cock buried in your sweet pussy.

it was fine, obviously there was a connection. he just had to seal the deal, and with a few more strokes of his cock. he was putting all of his weight on top of him. he finished inside of you and you made a small pathetic noise.

"fuck." he groaned.

you whined, "please, max."

when he pulled away, he wasn't away long. he soon pulled you in for a searing hot kiss while he let his cock stay inside of you for a moment longer. to feel the closeness. you were a lucky girl, you were now max's newest obsession.

he licked the bead of sweat off your neck, his cock twitched inside of you. perfect.

he curled up beside you soon after, his grip on you was possessive at the least and obsessive at the most. he felt like a lion with prey between its jaws, not biting hard enough to kill it. but just to keep it still. you were a sweet little thing in his arms.

maybe it was smart for you not to be around the track as much because of school, because if max had gotten a glimpse of the little crybaby leclerc all grown up, you two would've already been married by now.

but don't worry, be a good girl and you'll have a pretty ring in your future. the thoughts pooled in max's gut and made his softening cock twitch a little.

before he could go another round with you, you were fast asleep next to him. your soft snoring could be felt in his chest. he may have had to a little lying and manipulating before, but he wasn't going to fuck that sweet cunt while you were asleep.

he wasn't a monster. but that didn't mean he got out of your sleepy grasp and grabbed his phone from his jeans pocket to take some photos. not to share of course, he doesn't share. they'll be for his personal collection when you eventually go limping back to your brother.

come morning you were wrapped up in max's arms. you woke up with a throbbing headache and the sun that came through the window made you want to die. when you tried to wiggle in his grasp, he held on tighter.

he kissed you on the back of the neck, "good morning."

the sound of his low voice was like a shock to your system as you woke up quicker. you looked over your shoulder at him and swallowed. last night was barely pieced together. but you were naked next to him under the covers with one of his cats scratching at the door demanding breakfast.

when you tried to pull away he only pulled you back to him. your back against his broad chest. he said, "you're not getting away that easily." he rested his head on your shoulder, his arms around you tightened.

"what happened last night?" you croaked.

"ah don't worry. just tell your brother your safe and sound. you can stay here until he gets back home." he rubbed his cock up against your behind, "a woman like you shouldn't be alone in a city like this. lots of bad men out there that could hurt you."

"but not you?" you felt something bloom in your chest. the familiar pang from your youth.

he kissed your jaw and said, "of course. i'll always keep you safe." as if his cum wasn't dried to your inner thigh. but don't worry, he'll freshen it up once that pesky headache of yours is gone. after all, your sweet older brother was gone for another week.

-

"you know." charles said sometime later, he was in max's drivers room picking at the food on the table, "i feel like i should kill you for fucking my sister."

max was seated across from him, one leg over the other. he smirked, "and what's stopping you?"

charles shrugged, "i don't have to hear her talk about you all the time. i mean, at least i can vouch for you. you are practically family, better than some random guy that she met at school." he looked at his fellow driver, "will not forgive you for getting her pregnant though. and outside of marriage too. you should've heard our mother when she told her." he rubbed his forehead.

max chuckled, "well that'll be dealt with after the season. it feels wrong scheduling it between races. she deserves a lovely wedding."

"good, good. and i better see my nephew! we live in the same city, you better not lock her away!" charles shook his finger at max.

max laughed, "don't worry don't worry. but i cannot promise that he race for monaco when he grows up." then winked at his fellow driver (and future brother in law).

in the end, max hobbled together a narrative of the night you spent together. which led to a week together, which led to you getting pregnant by him. no one could've suspected that he could ever hurt a hair on your head. he was too in love with you, almost to an obsessive degree. he took your virginity and now you were taking his last name. <3

[frudoo]

I need the 141 as a group of slashers. Their shared wife gets harassed at the store and tells them when she gets home?

Might send more asks for slasher 141 if that's okay

You can ALWAYS send me slasher!141 ideas are you joking?!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment (NOT by the 141), typical mentions of weapons and violence. Fem!Reader.

It’s pouring down freezing rain, the cold seemingly nudging past your skin and settling itself into your bones. Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, letting out a defeated wail when you miss the lock for the fifth fucking time. Throwing your keys in your purse, you settle for knocking, then calling out that it’s just you. You’d rather not have one of your lovers answering the door with a machete to your throat. They always have had a flair for the dramatic. 

     It’s John who answers the door. Immediately he takes in your shivering figure and his bushy eyebrows furrow with concern. Scanning the vast land of the farm and finding nothing that could be perceived as a threat, he gently takes the purse from your hands. Strong arms hustle you inside and he kicks the door shut, working quickly to get you out of your sopping wet clothes. 

     “Darlin’, what happened? Why’re you cryin’?” John asks softly, hanging your coat on the rack—he can tell it’s bad by the way you flinch just from the question. 

     Simon, Johnny, and Kyle trail into the living room to greet you, but when they see your state, it’s like you can feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a weathered rubber band. Simon comes to scoop you up, uncaring of the drenched clothes you still have on, and carries you up the stairs. He jerks his head to signal that everyone else should follow him. 

     While Kyle runs you a bath, John finishes undressing you, tossing your clothing into the hamper with a wet plop. You’re still shivering, tears streaming down your chilly cheeks, and it breaks their hearts. John cups your face in his big, warm hands, crystal blue eyes scanning for injuries or any reason you might be so spooked. 

     “You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

     His voice is soothing, and you lean into the comfort of his touch. He always has been the best at calming you down, rich gravel filling your ears until you remember how cherished you are in his eyes. In all of their eyes. 

     “T-there was a man,” you stutter, head whipping around violently with your fist raised when Johnny wraps an arm around your waist to help you into the bath. “No!”

     “Hey, hey, jus’ me, hen,” Johnny’s eyes widen as he throws his hands up in surrender, backing away to avoid getting hit. 

     “I’m sorry,” you weep, covering your face with your trembling hands as Johnny tries again, this time successful in getting you settled into the warm water. 

     “Wha’ did he do?” Simon’s raspy voice sounds from the corner of the room, eerily calm. “Wha’ did tha’ fucker do?” 

     “The man… I-I was at the store to get groceries, but there was- he… he grabbed my ass and my tits and f-followed me out to the car. I drove away really fast so he couldn’t come after me, but… I’m sorry, I didn’t get the groceries.”

     “Oh, sweetheart,” Kyle frowns, gently reaching out to grab a hold of one of your hands. “The fuckin’ groceries are the least of our concerns.”

     You nod noncommittally, sniffling and just barely squeezing Kyle’s hand to let him know you appreciate the gesture. John’s jaw is clenched tight, and you can practically hear the rage brewing in his brain. Such a sweet thing traumatized by some stupid fuck who wanted his hands full of their soft, perfect girl. He wants—needs—to make him pay. John turns on his heel and just about rushes through the door, but your gentle voice stops him in his tracks.

     “John? Please stay,” you beg so, so prettily, pouty lips still swollen from how hard you’d been crying, and John’s far too weak a man to deny you. 

     Hesitantly, the captain trails back inside the bathroom, giving the other three a curt nod. They understand instantly, and Simon is cracking his knuckles so loud you’re almost sure the city can hear it. 

     “Bring the bastard back alive,” John commands, and faster than you can blink, Kyle, Simon, and Johnny are out the door.

     “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes focused on the ripple of the bathwater when you submerge your hands.

     John shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that you look him in the eye. He leans forward and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, a silent question. When you nod he leans in to kiss you long and slow, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you stop to catch a breath.

     “No need to be sorry, sweet girl. You’ll get a turn on him soon enough.”

[beomiracles]

𝓑𝐋𝓞𝓞𝐃𝓑𝓞𝓤𝐍𝐃

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 2.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing vampire!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings kidnapping, imprisonment, blood drinking, heavy dub-con, reader suffers from depression, mentions of suicide, unprotected sex + creampie, no prep, death threats, reader is terrified for the half of it & taehyun is a cold heartless mf, he nearly kills reader, taehyun develops something that borders on lima syndrome toward the end.

#serene adds ✎.. light snack while I work on my larger projects :3 I'm seriously hoping to finish ttocbg soon, I just need to pull the motivation out of my ass and get to it >-<

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. 

Yet Taehyun finds himself unable to let you go. He tells himself that it was only out of convenience. To keep a human at home, within the high walls of his estate, it was comfortable. It meant he didn’t have to leave and hunt as often. No, he could satiate himself for a moment, thanks to you. 

Oh, you. So pretty, young and alive. Blood flows within your veins, carrying all the way to your beating heart, the one he can hear from miles away. Your breath hitches when his sharp fangs brush against your neck, your eyes flutter before they widen in fear. — God it drove him insane. 

The first time Taehyun had laid his crimson eyes upon you, he knew that one taste wouldn’t be enough. He would need you for as long as he could. Nothing could quite still his desires like you, and nothing could fuel them the same. — So he kept you. He even tended to your human needs. Taehyun thinks they make you worthless. Unable to suffice a whole day without sleep, needing three meals a day. Not to mention the sunlight you so begged of him to see. 

Humans were high maintenance, he quickly learned that. Still, he was willing to accept those terms, if it meant another taste of you. But Taehyun wasn’t stupid, he knew that he couldn’t just take and take, then there would be nothing left of you. — He would wait. Feed. Then wait again. The wait was damn near agonizing. Your scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls of his home and sinking into the cracks of his floors. 

Sometimes he would leave for days, when the urge to tear you apart completely became too strong. You never questioned his absence, in fact, Taehyun sometimes wondered if you perhaps even enjoyed it. Though he didn’t care for your feelings toward him. They were unimportant. 

You were intimate every now and again. It was unexplainable really. Sometimes he felt like it, others he didn’t. You were the same. You usually cried, glistening tears coating your soft and pretty face, your broken sobs ringing out into the quiet bedroom air. Other times you remained silent, save for the occasional gasp to slip between your lips. — You always thanked him afterward.

Thanked him for sparing your life. 

Your gratitude confused him. Taehyun couldn’t quite understand what about your situation was so appealing. It wasn’t like he was going to kill you. He wanted no, needed you alive. Did you not understand that? Still you begged and pleaded for your life during your first three months there, for days on end you fell to your knees in prayer before him. 

It had been well over a year now, and that had stopped. — But that wasn’t all. Something was different, you were different. Fear had abandoned you completely, and now lingered nothing but an empty shell of the human he’d taken all those months ago. You hardly leave your room, not that you did before, but now you’re even refusing meals. 

Depression, that’s what he thinks it’s called. A state which humans can undergo when they’re not right in the head, or something like that. Taehyun didn’t bother to read up on the matter any further. All he knows is that you’re unhappy. Your skin is slowly turning a greyish hue and your eyes, once filled with terror, now look lifeless. You looked like him. 

It makes your blood taste bitter. And Taehyun hates it. 

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what will make you happy again. Letting you go was not an option. He wouldn’t trade his source of fulfillment for a mere human’s sake. But he needed to do something about it. — He tries letting you outside more. He walks through his large gardens, eyes trailing your tired figure as you brush past the many blooming flowers. You no longer appeared skittish around him, merely accepting of his ever looming presence. 

When the extra sunlight proves futile he tries new foods, bringing you a greater variety to choose from. But you merely shrug and grab the first thing you see, shoving it in your mouth as you struggle to swallow. It was as if your whole body rejected life itself. — Taehyun grew all the more restless. He even refrained from feeding off of you, allowing you to save your precious blood for a full two months, thinking that it would make a difference. 

You did not get better, and he got worse. 

He’s had enough. There must be something, something he can do to force any other emotion out of you. He doesn’t even dare leave his home for more than a few hours, afraid that you will find a way to end your pathetic human life in his absence. He couldn’t have that. 

So one night, he finds himself stalking up the stairs with the determined and fast strides. His fingers clenched into fists by his sides, his red eyes locked on the door by the far end of the hall. When he reaches it he stops, taking a slow and deliberate breath. It wasn’t like he even needed the air, but the sensation was calming. He exhales. Then he quietly slips inside your room. 

It’s dark, the only source of light is the moon, resting high above the clouds as its glow caresses your bare skin. You slept a lot more these days, and tonight was no different. But Taehyun had held back for long enough, he’d tried to accommodate your every need, he’d been walking on eggshells for over two months and deprived himself of the only thing that kept him on this earth, your blood. 

His cold breath ghosts over your cheek, his fingers light as they trace your arms. He turns you slowly, making you lay flat on your back as he immediately leans down to nose along the juncture of your neck. He’d caught the slow and steady sounds of your heartbeat before he even decided to go upstairs, and now that he was this close, the sound was near pounding in his ears. Blood rushes beneath your warm skin, and Taehyun licks his sharp fangs slowly as he eyes your perfectly healed skin. God it had been ages. 

You stir only when his lips press against your neck. The soft whine rolling off your tongue makes his ears perk and Taehyun can’t contain his smirk as his fangs graze along your supple flesh. Confused and still laced with sleep, you squirm beneath him as you attempt to get away, but Taehyun's grip on your arms is firm as he locks you in place. 

Quickly you realize what was going on, and your body goes limp in his grasp, as if someone had turned on autopilot. For some reason, it makes him waver. A grimace of disgust flickers across his face. This isn’t how he wants it. It’s no fun when you act like this. — His hands are rough as he yanks you off the mattress, bringing you to his face by the collar of your shirt. 

“Do you want to die, is that it?” He snarls, his nose pressed against yours when he speaks. To his surprise, he finds you staring back at him with wide and shocked eyes. He can hear the way your heart rate picks up, and he can feel the rush of blood as adrenaline courses through you. — “I’ll fucking kill you then, how about that?” His sharp fangs glint under the moonlight and Taehyun watches as your expression morphs from confusion to fear. 

Oh how he’d missed that look on you. 

Fervently you shake your head, spluttering out a shaky “N-No..!” Taehyun huffs, shoving you back against the mattress with a harsh push. His tongue is hot against your skin when he drags it across your jaw, and it pleases him when your breath hitches in your throat, just like it did before. He takes one final moment to inhale your scent, to allow himself to get intoxicated by it. 

“I’m going to make it quick for you”, he murmurs as he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck, sharp teeth poking at your flesh. “A quick and painless death.” It’s the last thing he says before he sinks his fangs into you, relishing in the loud cry you emit as you shake your head. — Fuck, he’d forgotten just how wonderful you tasted, how delirious your blood made him feel. 

Your nails claw at every part of him you can access, the terror evident in the way you try to pry him off. Taehyun doesn’t pay you any mind, all he can think of is how he needs more, more, more, more. He swallows mouthful after mouthful of your blood. And as the warm liquid slips down his throat, he can feel your resistance gradually fade as he quickly drains you of life. 

You’re reduced to a spluttering mess, tears staining your face and your bottom lip trembling as your eyes remain dazed and filled with horror. When you’re on the brink of going unconscious, just barely holding onto yourself, that’s when he pulls back. — Taehyun wasn’t going to kill you. Fuck, you taste far too good for that. But you didn’t have to know that. 

The lower half of his face is coated in a thick layer of your blood and he licks his lips slowly as he watches your bleary eyes search for him. All he meant to do was scare you, and god had it worked. Finally, your face was painted with emotion, you were finally alive again. Oh how he couldn’t be happier. 

“W-Why..?” You choke the word out, your breaths coming out jagged as you blink. He’s not hearing you, his gaze is trained on the way your lips move when you speak, and he’s completely entranced by them. — He leans in to kiss you, something he’d never done before. He would always be too focused on the way you tasted, on the way your tight and warm cunt wrapped around his cock to even think about the act of kissing. 

Tonight was different. He needs to taste your fear, in every way he can. 

He feels you cringe as his bloody tongue slips inside your mouth, he doesn’t care. Hands groping at your waist, he shoves your squirming body back against the mattress. His fingers hook around your sleep-shorts, tugging them down your thighs along with your panties. He’d gotten you an entire closet of assortments to choose from, yet you always picked the most mundane ones. It didn’t matter. 

You yelp against his lips when he suddenly aligns his hard cock with your unprepared cunt. Taehyun breaks the kiss for a brief moment, leaning back to admire your terrified expression. Blood had smeared all over your own face, your blood, he twitches at the sight. — You still think he’s going to kill you. It’s wonderful. He can’t help the sinister smirk that pulls across his lips before he reconnects them with yours. 

He slides inside of you with surprisingly little restraint, his large hand on your hip as he holds you down. The choked sob you emit vibrates on his tongue and Taehyun groans as he feels you clench around him. It was better than ever before. — His gaze drifts to the punctures on your neck, fresh blood spilled from their cuts and he felt himself grow dizzy. 

Taehyun rips himself from the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as you cling onto his shoulders. He’s quick to lap at the crimson liquid, moaning at the taste before he re-opens your barely healed wounds. You whimper when his fangs sink into you a second time that night, it was something he’d never done before. Even Taehyun knows that he should stop by now, that if he takes as much as another drop you might not make it until the following morning. 

But you just taste so good. 

His eyes flutter, hands gripping at your waist with a force that could easily break bones. His hips have set a slow and deliberate pace as he takes his time fucking your tight cunt, making sure that every stroke left your thighs spasming. 

Small, almost inaudible sobs pass your lips and Taehyun withdraws from your neck with a grunt. Fuck he was beginning to grow really tired of you crying. — His rough palm feels gigantic against your soft and wet cheek. The surprisingly intimate movement makes your breath hitch and causes your sob to catch in your throat. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he huffs. Your already terrified eyes widen tenfold, and Taehyun resist the urge to just finish you off right there, you looked fucking delectable. But he holds off, his free hand moving from your hip and between your legs. 

Taehyun rarely touched you, if ever. He would have you prepare yourself while he fed, it was a lot more convenient that way. Tonight he felt like doing it himself, for reasons he could not explain. — His thumb brushes against your clit, and his eyebrows raise when he feels your cunt clench around him deliciously. A soft moan falls from your lips, the sound is a surprisingly nice change. Taehyun needs to hear it again. 

He touches you with a newfound eagerness, his mouth finding yours as they blend together in a mix of blood and saliva. You tremble beneath him, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, clinging onto him like there was no tomorrow. — You cum around his cock a mere minute later, Taehyun can’t remember if he’d ever brought you to an orgasm before, he doesn’t think so. The way you squeeze around him is far from familiar, yet it makes his head spin. 

His hips snap against yours as he picks up his pace, his brows furrowing when he feels his throbbing cock twitch inside your warm cunt. All of you were so blissfully alive at this moment. Hell, even Taehyun felt alive like this, so closely connected to you, in a way he long ago swore he would never be with a mere human being. 

You moan when he finishes inside of you, you had never done that before. Taehyun finds that he enjoys it. The taste of you linger on his tongue, and the scent of your arousal infiltrates his nostrils, it was far more prominent this time. — Dark crimson eyes find your wide ones when he peers down at you. For the first time, you’re watching him almost expectantly. 

“Thank you.” 

There it is again, your everlasting gratitude toward him. He still cannot understand it, but he figures it doesn’t matter as long as you’re willing to live. 

Willing to live for him. 

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @izzyy-stuff @heeambi @saejinniestar @hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @minji-willstay @beombunni

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[rafedaddy01]

Babysitter y/n slipping into rafes bed during the night when his wife is away on a work trip

She convinces him ,because she normally already drove home at 8 pm that he is just having a lucid dream

So shes not real and there are not consequences to his actions

So rafe makes all his dream about her come true

Fing her tight virgin p Doggy style as hard as he can

Of course raw

Grabing her as he wishes

And it really is a dream come true

Until the next mornign when he wakes up d still inside of y/n and he hears "honey I am home"

And he realizes he just actually f d his babysitter

Summary: You've spent years trying to get Rafe Cameron to pop your cherry. He's eight years older than you, but that's never stopped you. Ever since you were 16, you've been obsessed with him. Now, you've finally landed a job as his babysitter, and you're determined to get exactly what you want.

Warnings: SMUT, age-gap

Notes: thank you for the request. I added my own little back story to it ❤️

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins leaving you trembling. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing?”

“Shh, it’s not real. Just a dream, baby.”

He placed his palms firmly on your hips, his grip possessive as he steadied you over him. A sly smirk tugged at his lips. “Is it now? Funny, ‘cause it feels pretty damn real to me, baby.”

Your heart raced, but you forced yourself to stay composed as you leaned in and kissed him deeply, your lips lingering against his. Pulling back just slightly, you whispered, "If this were real, would I be doing this?"

The atmosphere shifted in an instant, heavy and electric. Rafe moved with predatory precision, flipping you over with ease until you were ass-up beneath him. His palm came down hard on your skin, the sharp sting leaving a mark and pulling a startled whine from your lips.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his hand lingering on the sting he left behind. “You like that, huh? Thought you could tease me and get away with it? Nah, baby, I don’t play nice.”

“Rafe—” your voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper as you glanced back at him. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of nerves and anticipation twisting in your stomach. “You can’t just… do that and expect me to keep it together.”

Rafe’s grin was wicked as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “Baby, if this is a dream, I’m making the most of it. Who knows when I’ll get to ruin you like this in real life?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, soft and inviting, as you tilted your head slightly, exposing the curve of your neck. Your eyes met his, a mixture of daring and vulnerability. “Do anything you want to me, Rafey,” you murmured, your words hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge, full of promise and surrender.

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered under his breath, his voice rough and low, like he was trying to convince himself this was real. The way you looked at him, eyes wide and filled with something between trust and temptation, made his chest tighten. You looked untouchable, like some kind of angel sent to test him, and yet here you were, all his for the taking. His lips curled into that signature smirk, dark and dangerous.“You’re too fucking perfect for me,” he murmured, his hand brushing your jaw as his thumb traced over your bottom lip. His blue eyes burned into yours, a storm of desire and control swirling inside them. “But you keep looking at me like that, and I’ll ruin you, angel. Consider it a challenge… and I never lose, baby.”

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you felt the tip of him pressing against your entrance. Your hips instinctively rolled back, seeking him, your movements deliberate, enticing, and impossible for him to resist.

"Ready, baby?" Rafe's voice was low and rough, a warning laced with dark intent. He didn't wait for your answer, pressing forward until his cock filled you completely, stretching you to the hilt. A guttural groan escaped his lips, his head falling back for a moment before his piercing blue eyes locked onto you again. "Fucking perfect," he hissed through gritted teeth, his palms gripping your hips with a bruising intensity. Without hesitation, he pulled back, then thrust forward with a force that made your breath hitch, his control slipping as he chased the pleasure only you could give him.

"Yes! Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice breaking as your nails clawed desperately at the sheets beneath you. Your knees dug into the mattress, your back arching instinctively, presenting yourself to him in a way that made his breath hitch. From behind, Rafe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched himself disappear into you, the sight driving him wild. "God, you're fucking perfect," he growled, his pace faltering for a moment as he took in the view, utterly consumed by you.

"Fucking perfect, baby," Rafe groaned, his voice rough as he pulled you closer. "So tight and warm... I fucking love it." Without warning, he smacked the curve of your ass, the sound sharp and satisfying. His hand lingered there, gripping and kneading the flesh, soothing the sting with a possessive caress.

Your release built rapidly, the pressure becoming unbearable. "Rafe, l'm gonna cum!" you moaned, your voice trembling with need. His palms gripped your hips tightly as his cock pulsed inside you, his own release dangerously close.

"Come on, baby, give it to me. Let me feel you soak my cock," Rafe growled, thrusting harder, his tip relentlessly hitting your g-spot.

"Fuck, Rafe," you gasped, the words barely escaping as the floodgates opened. Your legs trembled uncontrollably as you came, his release following in sync, his body collapsing beside yours. His cock still nestled inside you, the two of you drifted into an exhausted slumber. But morning arrived with an ominous chill, the sound of creaking steps jolting you awake. A voice, clear and sharp, echoed through the house-his wife's voice, calling out for her husband. Your heart froze as Rafe stirred beside you, still buried within you, completely unaware of the storm about to erupt.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10 @writingroom21 @wtfdudesblog

[mikomikumi]

Guys I was on the plane and got bored. I wrote y’all some milkman smut~

Plz enjoy

Francis mosses x reader SMUT

Warnings; Penetration (PinV), orgasm denial, dom! Francis. sub! Reader. afab! Reader.

————————————————————————

This day couldn’t be any more boring than it already is. The Doorman is slumped in their seat, bored out of their mind.

They heard footsteps coming up to the window. It appears to be Francis Mosses. “Mmm, hello”. The usual greeting. Nothing seems off. “ID and Entry card please?”, asks the Doorman. Francis slips the paper under.

Appearance? Normal

Description? On point.

ID? One number is off.

“Hmm, your ID doesn’t fully match the correct one we have here.” The doppelgänger that stood in front of him started to panic. “I-I think you just need to re-read it. That’s m-my ID.” Unusual, he never speaks this much. “I saw your roommate Y/N come home earlier. Let me just give your room a call”. The doorman grabs the rotary phone and rings up Francis’s room, in hopes either you or the real Francis would answer.

The day was about to get just a little less boring.

————————————————————————

“Ngh~ fuck, so tight~” Francis moaned. The second you had come home from the bakery, Francis snuck up behind you and tried to strip you. He had been so horny all day. His one day off and you had to go to work. The milkman needed to give someone his milk~

“Take it, Y/N. Please~ Let me fill you with my milk~ Francis moaned and begged. He pounded your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He had filled you with cream about 3 times already. Yet his cock stayed hard, throbbing for more. He gripped your plush thigh, with the other hand on your chin. Francis's tongue fucked your mouth with passion. “Mmh~ good girl”.

Your tight little cunt didn’t mind. Your legs stayed open and welcome for each thrust of his hips, for each slap of his balls against your ass. You loved him. The way he fucked you gave you life. “Francis~”, you moaned his name for the hundredth time that day. You rubbed your clit as you were on the edge of another climax. It drove his cock wild. It throbbed as he was about to cum again-

“Ring ring!” The rotary phone on the bedside locker buzzed. You reached your hand over to it when all of a sudden it was pinned to the bed. “Don’t, we’re busy”. Francis demanded, getting ready to thrust inside you again. “Francis, if they let a doppelgänger in, the building is dead!” You argued. This annoyed the milkman. He let go of your wrist. “Mmm…Fine, but make it quick. I still have more cum to pump you full with”.

Your body turns away from the milkman. His cock leaves your hole as you pick up the phone. Francis, despite the orgasm denial, had an idea. He wasn’t a huge fan of that doorman, always looking at his Y/N. Maybe he could put him in their place.

“Hello? Ah hi there Mx. Doorma-ah!”. The milkman cheekily slapped your thigh, and your body shivered. “S-sorry. Yes I’m in my apartment. My roomma-”. Francis was sick of you calling him his ‘roommate’ instead of boyfriend. The only reason you did was that it was muscle memory. Francis grabbed the phone from your hand. He used his other hand to pin you down and he started thrusting himself back into you. You let out a scream, which you quickly muffled with your hand along with the other moans.

“Mmm…yes. I’m in my apartment with Y/N”. The clapping of skin could be heard in the background. “Is that all?” The milkman asked. He pounded into you faster, as payback for not letting him finish earlier. “…yes…”. The doorman eventually answered. Francis almost threw the phone back down into its place before gripping both your thighs tight. “Now, you owe me”. He shows no mercy, holds your thighs up and full-on pounds your pussy in.

“You’re…you’re gonna take my cum inside again?…right Y/N?…you’re gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock…?”. You know it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

“Yes Francis….fuuuck~”. Your eyes roll to the back of your head while you release yourself for the 4th time today. Your body sinks into the cum-soaked sheets as you let your boyfriend take over.

“Cumming…fucking…take it” he lets out a massive groan, this cock throbs and twitches as white ropes spew into your cunt. “Yeah…good girl”. Francis slowly continued to thrust, helping ride out his and your orgasm. He almost collapses on top of you when he finishes. He lies on your chest, his cock still buried deep in your womb as he snuggles.

“Always a cuddle bug after sex” You stroked his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. Francis is now completely drained. His baggy eyes stare into yours. “So…tired…”…the milkman mumbles, drifting into a deep slumber. You decide to join him, closing your eyes. You couldn’t ask for a better way to sleep other than having your boyfriend in your arms.

————————————————————————

The Doorman stares at the phone in mortified awe after the real Francis hangs up. They turn to look at the doppelgänger, who is now sweating profusely. “Sorry buddy, you ain’t coming in”. The doorman lifts the clear cover of the red button and pushes it.

[monimccoythings]

Double Trouble

I'm just saying that Wolverines have litters of two-three cubs or so I've heard. This poor man wasn't ready. While I work on my other wips I'll release this short drabble to the world.

tags: slight ooc!Logan (he freaks out a bit), pregnancy fic, f!reader, happy ending.

Twins.

The word repeated itself over and over in his head like a broken record.

You were having twins.

He stared at the screen in utter silence, looking like a fucking idiot. Twins. Two whole ass babies. Two more new additions to the family. He blinked quickly, several times, still not completely processing the news.

It all made sense now, why you looked bigger than the average pregnant woman, why he had heard more than two heartbeats and had rushed you towards the ER thinking that maybe there was something wrong with your hearts.

Fucking hell. He had already mentally prepared himself for one baby, how was he going to manage two?? He was barely an adequate father for Laura, how would he manage with two new babies?? What if he wasn't good enough? What if he was a terrible father? What if they hated him? Whay if YOU hated him? He wouldn't be able to live with that.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, someone was calling his name, but the voice looked so far away and drowned by the constant ringing in his ears. The hand shaked his shoulder and he looked up at your face. So pretty, so sweet, his little wife.

She looks concerned.

No.

He doesn't want you concerned. It's not good for the babies. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be dragged into his pity party. You were too good for him.

"Logan, it's is going to be okay, alright? I'm here." Your mouth was forming words, but he could barely comprehend them. Had you always smelled so sweet? So enciting? The light from the fluorescent tube was enveloping you like a halo.

Your hand moved from his broad shoulder to his cheek, he found himself leaning into it. He always found confort in your touch, so soft and warm.

"Babe, I know you're scared." He opened his mouht to argue. "No, listen. I know this was unexpected, fuck I'm freaking out myself; we didn't plan for this Logan. But we will pull through together, like always." You gave him your sweetest smile, despite being terrified yourself. He could smell it on you.

Logan gave you a lopsided smile, or at least he tried to. His large hand covered yours. For a couple of seconds it was the two, no, four of you, all alone against the world.

He had always thought of himself as undeserving of love, happy endings weren't made for him. He either outlived them or drove them away. But now, now he had a chance. He could grow as old as he could with you, raise your kids in peace. No one would go after you, no threat against mutantkind would rip you away.

Two, three, four babies, who cared? As terrifying as that sounded he had been given this gift and he got to share it with you. He would manage, you would manage, as you two always did.

His breaths became steadier, much more calm than they had been moments before. Logan's eyes went downwards, to your belly, which was the current home of your future kids. Just the thought of watching them grow and develop filled him with a warm feeling barely known to him.

He didn't know why, but he was sure everything would be alright.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: While Bradley thought it was unfair of the Navy to mess with him while he was still in his honeymoon phase, he certainly did love getting mail from you.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

That autumn....

As soon as you led Bradley inside after he drove the two of you home from Salvatore's, you ran your fingers along his cheek and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You had a lunch picnic with Thai food on the beach. And then you got pasta for dinner. Do you have any other requests?" you asked, using your strict classroom voice which made Bradley's mouth water. 

"I do, actually," he whispered, melting into your touch. "How about some of that lingerie you picked out in Paris?"

The honeymoon was almost three months ago, but not an hour went by where Bradley didn't reminisce about the days he got to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower and the view of your ass while he fucked you. It always left him with a smile on his face. But his smile started to falter when he remembered that he was shipping out tomorrow, and he wouldn't return until after the New Year. At least he would be allowed to communicate with you this time. That was the only thing saving him from almost certain despair.

"I think that can be arranged," you told him with a smile, unbuttoning your top as he stumbled along after you. "But you have to wait out here until I'm ready."

Bradley groaned and leaned on the wall in the hallway, watching you bounce along to the bedroom without him while you laughed. He didn't mind waiting a few minutes, because he was going to love whatever you were about to do. He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.

He hadn't even finished packing his duffle yet, because he didn't want this to feel real. He was planning on doing that tonight with your help, kissing you as you folded up his shirts and lined up his socks on the bed. But that was going to have to wait a few minutes. You opened the door to reveal the sheer nightie hugging your body as you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.

Bradley was pushing away from the wall, heading right for you. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pulling you against him and walking you backwards to the bed. "Baby, I'm going to miss this too much."

His heart was pounding in his ears, hands full of your lace covered ass before you dropped to the bed on your back. "I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back.

"No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby." You grinned as you turned your head to the side, and Bradley stepped out of his remaining clothing before he climbed in bed. He was hovering above you, lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "You'll wear the goodies for me, too. And you'll email me every mouth watering photo that you take of your fingers shoved deep in your pussy."

"Bradley," you whined, bucking your hips up until he had to hold you in place with his big hands on your body.

"I want a little treat every time you touch yourself. And I want to know that you're thinking about me."

"I'm always thinking about you."

Your words were an ego boost. Just the kind of thing that would get him through this work assignment and back into your arms. "When you're alone and thinking about me, I want some pictures, pretty girl. A whole inbox full of them. Some sweet ones," he crooned, kissing his way along your jaw to your lips. "And some dirty ones," he added, mouth teasing your skin until your nipple was between his lips and you were whining. He sucked gently, tugging until his lips popped free, leaving you begging for more with your fingers in his hair.

You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.

"I'm going to miss my wife," he crooned, guiding his cock inside your slick perfection as soon as you spread your legs. He rocked in and out of you slowly, enjoying the feel of your body and your voice and your sweet scent. Memorizing everything. Telling himself he could get through the time away from you as long as he could come back to this.

It was so late when Bradley finally left the bed. You and he were wrung out and fucked out. Fingers laced together, barely moving, unable to go for a fourth round. "That was wild," you laughed when he finally rolled away from you, dizzy as he stood and looked at the wrecked bedding around your naked body.

"Shit, Gorgeous." He was laughing, too as he said, "I still need to finish packing in the next five hours."

You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?"

"Then I would say I love you."

----------------------------------

Waking up for work in a bed that was half cold was not your idea of a good time. You shivered every morning that Bradley was gone, especially when November brought with it a chilly bite to the air. The commute from Coronado to Mira Mesa and back each day felt like a punishment when you knew you weren't going to arrive home to a husband who was excited to see you and hear about your adventures in teaching.

Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime.

And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.

While you made it a point to spend time with Natasha, Edith, Ruby and Marty, the loneliness was somehow worse now that you had rings on your finger. The best thing to happen was the arrival of the day when your new fourth grade class started their unit on aviation.

Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."

Later that week, you had a sizable cardboard box packed up with letters and snacks for your husband. Instead of telling him exactly when the first package would arrive, you left it as a surprise for him to stumble upon.

-------------------------------

Bradley was exhausted. The mechanical crew on this deployment was nowhere near as kind or competent as Marty, and he found himself constantly visiting their shop to work through issues with his aircraft. He missed his friends and his home and his wife. He missed you so fucking much. All of the letters and emails you sent him were fantastic, but he even missed having a bunch of pen pals to converse with at the end of the day.

Every happy thought that entered his mind seemed to be pushed aside when he realized he was still a long way from returning to San Diego. He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall. 

The cabbage rolls were disgusting, but at least the aircraft carriers were consistent. He picked at his meal and then ate two plates of dessert to make himself feel a little bit better. When he was sorting his dirty dishes and tray into the appropriate place, he was surprised to hear his name being called amongst some others.

"Bradshaw! You've got unclaimed mail!"

He perked up immediately. How did he have something else to claim? He picked up an enormous envelope from you the other day along with a card from Edith. Did you send him a handwritten note again already?

When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips. He could have some regular pen pals to correspond with again. His smile grew wider when he looked at the way you addressed the box to him in your tidy handwriting.

To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)

---------------------------------

Bradley has the ultimate pen pal in his wife. Thanks for reading this series which ended up being so much longer than originally intended! Thanks for all of the love and feedback along the way! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

[tonellivision]

rule three

authors note: this is my first story, so have some grace for my terrible writing. This is not based on my life, BUT i am a camp counsellor, so this is what I got the idea from.

setting: canadian cottage country

pairing: kimi antonelli x fem!reader

warnings: flirting, angst, slow-burn, fluff, reader is canadian (this doesn't matter to the plot), very light swearing, angry confession, death threats? (it's a joke), not proofread

word count: 10.3k (my bad)

summary: y/n has three rules to survive living at camp for a summer, and they work pretty well considering she has been going back for the last 4 years. the rules are simple: have fun, do not get caught up in drama and most importantly, do not fall for someone at camp. but what happens when she meets a boy that could make her break the most important of the three.

rules were great.

my rules made sure my camp life wasn't complete crap.

my rules had made sure that my second, third and fourth summers working at camp went perfectly, and i was sure they were going to make sure i had another wonderful year.

they were very simple:

have fun

don't get involved in drama

DO NOT fall for someone at camp

– june 22nd –

i had been driving on the back roads for nearly an hour after exiting the highway, on which i had also been driving on for several hours before. now, i was surrounded by trees, my arm sat on the open window, noah kahan playing through the speaker of my crv. my car was packed full of everything i’d need for the summer, my exams had finished a couple weeks before, i had graduated a few days after that and now, I was going to my favourite place on earth. life was good. as i drove, i passed familiar mail boxes, towering maples, and gravel driveways. soon, i saw the rustic sign which displayed the camp's name in big bold letters which made me smile softly, knowing i was nearly at my home away from home.

i turned down the dirt road and drove even further into the woods. i knew there was a large lake through the trees ahead (simply because i had lived here for 4 summers), but the trees were so dense, i couldn’t see anything. rays of sunshine shone through the thick ceiling of leaves, keeping my car in the shade haphazardly.

i adored my job as a camp counsellor. if i didn’t, i wouldn’t be coming back. i adored pouring into the kids lives over the summer, bonding with them, making bracelets, swimming, sitting by the bond fire. sure, the pay was ass and my sleep schedule was never healthy but there were pros and cons to every job.

as i pulled into the main clearing, i could already see the other staff bustling about. there were a lot of returnees but i saw a few new faces. i drove passed the dining hall, shouting a few “heys” and “hellos” to my friends out the window. most were dragging suitcases and other things they had brought from home down to the cabins, a cody, carter, heather and jenna (who must have already unpacked) were playing spikeball in the field, and luke, julia and a few others were just lounging on the hammocks chatting and catching up about their school year. i drove into my parking spot, which was really just an empty bit of grass by the edge of the woods, hopped out of my car, flipped my shades in front of my eyes and opened up my trunk to begin unloading everything.

although i had tried to pack as light as possible for the almost 10 weeks i’d be here, there was still a ton of stuff. one big suitcase, a laundry basket packed full of essentials i knew i'd need, my bedding, my guitar and a few extras. i huffed and decided to begin with the suitcase. I had just started to pull the suitcase out, when a voice came from behind me, making me jump and nearly drop it.

“need a hand?” the voice said. it was heavily accented, italian probably? i wasn’t sure. i turned and was greeted with probably the most attractive boy i had ever seen in my life. he had gorgeous curls and a charming smile and these soft brown eyes and- oh no. i cut off my thoughts and i quickly recovered, hoping my face hadn’t displayed the wave of fear that i washed over me when i realised there was, in fact, someone here that may cause me to break rule three. “i’m kimi, by the way”

“oh! that would actually be fantastic. i'm y/n” i said smiling and sticking out my hand, knowing that this boy would be my downfall.

— july 1st —

we had been at camp for over a week now. we spent the first week prepping, cleaning and training for when the kids arrived, so when they arrived on the 29th we were ready. we were three days into the first actual camp week, and things had been great. i had gotten assigned the twelve-to-thirteen-year-old girls, and they were awesome. super energetic, funny, but unfortunately, not blind.

they had seen me and kimi talking and obviously began teasing as soon as they realised. i had finally managed to calm their giggles and explain that coworkers do, in fact, have to speak to each other, and it is not a sign of me wanting him to be my boyfriend, but kimi decided he was going to have a staring problem.

the first few days, his eyes would drift to me. i could feel them on me, but i managed to keep my eyes away from his. not only did my campers notice kimis eyes, but even worse, HIS campers noticed. so now i had to not only deal with nine twelve-to-thirteen-year-old girls trying to get me to admit i liked kimi, but i also had to listen to another nine pre-teen boys screeching at kimi to “use his italian rizz to seduce her” (an: this is a direct quote i experience this summer, im being so fr rn).

aside from this whole fiasco, the week had been going great. i had already bonded pretty well with my campers, we had gone tubing, swimming, played capture the flag, all the stereotypical camp activities. and of course, today was canada day, so that meant bonfire, red and white themed snacks and fireworks.

the sun was just starting to dip behind the trees when we got to the bonfire. the air smelled like woodsmoke and bug spray, and the mosquitoes were already beginning their nightly war against everyones ankles. my campers had rushed off to grab s’mores supplies and claim the best log seats, shouting over each other about who could roast their marshmallow the best. i let them go. they were good kids. loud, chaotic, a little too observant for my liking, but good.

i took a seat at one of the logs at the back. quieter, in the dark away from the fire light, more peaceful. of course, the moment i pulled out my guitar, a handful of my girls immediately perched around me like ducklings, asking for me to play different songs.

i started strumming a song i was pretty sure none of them would know but i knew the other counsellors loved. death wish love was just something soft to keep their chaos level from climbing too high. i didn’t even get through half a verse before the whispers started.

“miss y/n, he’s staring again.” kiana whispered.

i didn’t look up. i didn’t have to. i already knew who “he” was. i could feel his gaze from across the firepit like it was physically leaning on me. perhaps that was a tad bit dramatic. but accurate.

“i’m sure he’s just zoning out,” i said, not looking up from my guitar. “there’s fire. it’s hypnotic.”

giggles. always with the giggles.

“yeah, sure, he’s zoning out into your soul,” layla sassed.

i sighed. deeply. “go toast your marshmallows before i make you clean the latrines tomorrow.”

that scattered them fast enough.

i continued quietly strumming and singing softly, hoping to seem far to busy to care about the boy across from me.

kimi was across the fire pit, sitting on a log with his boys, pretending to be engaged in whatever story one of them was telling about catching a frog or making a leaf boat, but he wasn’t slick. i could feel his eyes on me. again.

the first firework went off with a bang that made the younger campers squeal and the older ones cheer like it was a soccer game. i stopped playing, just resting the guitar on my lap, letting the kids get lost in the colours. it was quiet for a few seconds.

peaceful.

then someone sat down next to me.

i didn’t have to look to know who it was.

not peaceful.

“you’re good with them,” he said after a beat, voice low enough that only i could hear it.

i shrugged. “bribery and thinly veiled threats work wonders.”

he huffed a laugh.

“you have a pretty voice too,” he said. i felt the tips of my ears heat up.

i turned to look at him, but he wasn’t looking at me this time. he was staring straight ahead, his profile all soft angles and flickering shadows from the firelight. he looked calm. he looked—ugh. he looked good. so good.

“you're really bad at being subtle,” i muttered.

he smiled, barely. “maybe.”

we sat like that for a while. i should have moved. everything in my body said move. but i didn’t. i didn’t move away, and he didn’t either.

— july 15th —

wednesday was the counselors' first day off. a few of the kids’ parents had come up to visit for the day, taking them away from camp for little day trips and lakeside lunches, which meant one thing: blissful, precious silence. the directors took charge of the stragglers who hadn’t been picked up, and the rest of us got the green light to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back before curfew and didn’t, quote, "get arrested or start a forest fire."

so naturally, that’s how i found myself crammed into the old camp van with seven other half-sweaty, half-hyper counselors and one very worn-out air freshener dangling from the mirror. kimi was driving, which should’ve been illegal, honestly. not because he was bad at it—he was actually really good—but because there was something about him driving with one hand on the wheel, sunglasses on, window down, wind ruffling his curls, that made it really hard to remember how to form coherent thoughts.

i was in the middle seat, squished between julia and heather, trying very hard not to look at kimi in the rearview mirror. or out the window reflection. or literally anywhere near his direction. it was fine. totally fine.

carter was in shotgun when he spoke “town run? or beach first?”

“town,” jenna said immediately from the back. “we need snacks. and i need dry shampoo or i’ll actually die.”

“respectfully,” luke added next to her, “you already kind of look like a victorian ghost.”

jenna whacked him over the head with her empty gatorade bottle, and cody attempted to restrain luke, who had started trying to yank the bottle from jennas hands.

“honestly, why do we need campers when we already have you too,” i said, rolling my eyes playfully. kimi just grinned and turned the van toward the highway.

the town was tiny, one of those classic one-street, general-store-and-ice-cream kind of towns, but it was basically a major metropolitan city to us after being stuck in the woods for weeks. we pulled up to the general store called Buck n Wilsons General Store but the sign was missing the B and G so it was uck n Wilson eneral Store.

“okay, you’re with me,” julia said, dragging jenna and carter toward the toiletries aisle. cody and luke bee-lined for the cold drinks. heather disappeared without a word. wow. fantastic.

i lingered by the door, pretending to look at a rack of keychains but mostly just needing a second to reset from the body heat of the van.

“you coming, tesoro?”

i blinked. “sorry—what?”

i turned, halfway expecting i misheard him or he was talking to someone else. but no—there was kimi, holding a handbasket, giving me that stupid little smirk like he knew what he was doing.

“did you just—what?” i asked.

he tilted his head. “tesoro. you don’t know what that means?”

“should i…?.”

“it means… like… treasure, sweetheart, or something like that. i think that's the english equivalent”

i stared at him. he looked way too casual about the fact that he just casually called me sweetheart. in his native language. while standing next to a rack of beef jerky and car air fresheners. i felt my cheeks dust with colour.

“right,” i said slowly. “that’s… normal coworker talk.”

he grinned. his stupid grin. and i swear i felt my stomach do an actual backflip, which was dumb, because this wasn’t a rom-com and i wasn’t about to fall for the guy who’d just spent the last two weeks accidentally making my campers think i was secretly dating him.

we wandered down the candy aisle together. i kept my eyes very fixed on a display of sour peach rings, hoping my face would stop feeling like it was on fire. kimi noticed this too.

“you like these?” he asked, holding up the peach rings.

“julia does. she always eats any of the packs i bring back to camp.”

he raised an eyebrow. “didn’t ask that. i asked if you liked them.”

“… maybe.”

he tossed pack into my hand before i could stop him.

and yeah, maybe i did spend the next five minutes walking through the store like i was completely fine, like i wasn’t still thinking about that stupid word and the way he said it.

but i didn’t like him. i didn’t. i was not breaking rule 3.

i just needed a snack.

that’s all.

— july 23rd —

sneaking out after the campers were all asleep was a pretty common occurrence. the campers slept like the dead due to how much energy they spent throughout the day, so it was very easy thing to accomplish. were we good role models? absolutely not, but you know, we were still kids too.

i slipped out of my cabin and made my way down to the dock. the dock was my spot. it always has been. just far enough away from camp that i could breathe again, with the lake stretching out in front of me like a secret. i was already picturing myself sitting at the edge, toes dipped in the water, maybe humming a song under my breath—until i spotted someone already in my spot.

i paused, squinting.

a figure. hoodie. legs stretched out. confident posture.

of course.

i sighed, louder than i had meant to, and sure enough, he turned his head just slightly like he’d been waiting for that. even in the dark, i could feel the smirk on his face.

“you’re in my seat,” i said flatly, already considering turning back.

“oh no,” kimi said, stretching out a little more like he was making himself comfortable on purpose. “don’t tell me this whole dock belongs to you now.”

“it’s an unspoken rule,” i muttered. “everyone knows it.”

“funny,” he said. “i must’ve missed that part in training week.”

i hovered for a second, fully ready to turn and go sulk by the archery range or something, but then he said—

“wait. stay.”

i blinked. “why?”

“because i’d rather not sit out here alone like a weirdo. it’s less depressing if you’re here.”

“you are a weirdo,” i muttered, but didn’t move. he didn’t deny it—just patted the space beside him without looking at me. bold.

but i obliged. i sat next to him, letting my crocs graze the top of the water. we sat in silence. goodness, i hated it.

“so, what do you do?” i asked, breaking the silence.

“hmm?”

“like what are you going back to? after camp i mean? like school? a job?” i asked

he glanced over at me, a little grin playing on his lips. “i drive.”

i stared at him. “okay. vague.”

he shrugged. “it’s the truth.”

“like what—uber?”

he snorted. “no.”

“pizza delivery?”

“worse.”

i tilted my head. “then what?”

“formula one.”

i blinked. “like… racing? like… cars?”

kimi nodded, eyes fixed on the water like this was just some casual little hobby he was telling me about.

“formula one,” he repeated, like i didn’t hear him the first time.

i scoffed, a small smile playing on my lips. “you’re joking”

“i’m not.” he reassured me. “you can google it if you want”

“no, it’s okay, i believe you…” i said.

i mean, i knew formula one was a big deal—fast cars, european guys with accents, monaco and champagne or whatever. i wasn’t an expert or anything, but i’d heard of charles leclerc. and lewis hamilton. mostly because of cars 2 and tiktok,

i played it off though. i'm not sure why. maybe i just didn't want him to know that i knew it was a big deal.

“huh,” i said, trying to sound cool. chill. unbothered. “that’s… neat.”

he huffed a laugh. “neat?”

“i mean, it’s no camp counselor,” i said sarcastically, pulling my knees to my chest. “but sure.”

in the moonlight, i can see him smile.

we sat there for a while, the silence settling around us like an old friend. it was nice—too nice, almost. the kind of nice that made you want to close your eyes and just breathe, but that also made you wonder why the hell you felt so comfortable. he stretched beside me and let his fingers rest on mine. thank goodness for the darkness, because my cheeks were probably pink at this moment. but i didnt move my fingers. and he didn’t either.

“so,” kimi said, breaking the silence. “what about you? what’s your big plan after camp?”

i glanced over at him. “plan?”

“yeah, you’re training for something, right?”

“i’m training to be a medic,” i said, feeling the words roll off my tongue easily. “already finished half of my training, actually. graduated early. i was supposed to graduate next year, but i graduated this year.”

his eyebrow arched slightly. “graduated early?”

i shrugged, not really seeing what the big deal was. “yeah. but i don’t want to work in a hospital. that’s not my thing. i want to be an onsite medic, for places like camps, events, stuff like that.”

“not a fan of hospitals?” he asked, his voice softer now, more interested.

i shook my head. “hospitals are too… sterile? too much red tape. i’ve always liked the idea of being in the field, more hands-on. i’m already a trained lifeguard, so i know how to keep calm in high-pressure situations. but working in a hospital just feels… too boxed-in, you know?”

the quiet stretched again, but this time it felt different—comfortable. he wasn’t pushing, wasn’t trying to get too deep, but there was a warmth in his eyes like he actually cared about the answer. it was nice, but… maybe too nice. and that’s when he threw me off again.

“so,” he started, breaking the quiet. “do you have a boyfriend?”

i blinked, caught completely off guard. “what?”

“you know,” he said, leaning back a little, casually. “someone back home.”

my stomach dropped for a second, but i couldn’t let him see that. i let out a short laugh and looked away, trying to cover the sudden wave of unease. “no…why?”

“i don’t know,” he said, the smirk back in place. “just curious. you seem like someone who would have someone by now.”

i felt my face flush slightly, but i fought the heat creeping up my neck. “well, i’m not exactly looking for someone, and… people don't really pay attention to me.”

the awkward silence came back. what do you even say to follow up after that?

“so, you’re not staying in canada after the summer, then?” i asked, trying to sound casual, but something about the way i said it made my throat feel tight. it wasn’t like i wanted him to stay. it wasn’t like i was planning on visiting or something, but something about the idea of him leaving felt like it hit a little closer to home than i was willing to admit.

he paused, glancing at me sideways. “yeah. i’ve got pre-season training after summer, then the racing season starts in march.” he shrugged, his gaze drifting back to the water, the casual air about him making the words somehow sting more than i expected.

i tried to mask my disappointment with a quick, forced smile, but i wasn’t fooling anyone. least of all myself. "right," i said, staring at the ripples in the lake. "guess you’ve got a whole world to go back to."

it was stupid to feel anything about it, i told myself. i didn’t even like him. so why did it feel like a weight in my chest when i thought about him leaving?

kimi didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. we just sat there, side by side, both lost in our thoughts, the quiet stretching longer than before.

— july 27th —

it was dusk and the lake looked like glass, all soft purples and pinks reflecting off the water like someone had dropped a watercolor palette on the sky. today was another counsellor off day. we had a few volunteers come up to deal with the kids for the day while we took some time to ourselves. the air smelled like sunscreen and pine, and it was warm in that sticky, end-of-july kind of way where no one really bothered with towels anymore because you were just going to end up wet again anyway.

i was sitting cross-legged at the edge of the dock with heather and jenna, our legs dangling over the water, damp from earlier swimming and now slowly drying under the setting sun. we had lemonade in plastic cups and were trading gossip in low voices, like we were thirteen again at a sleepover.

“i’m just saying,” heather said, sipping dramatically, “if kimi stares at you any harder during breakfast, the table’s going to catch fire.”

“he’s not staring,” i muttered, picking at a bow on my swim top.

“he absolutely is,” jenna added. “he doesn’t even blink when you walk into the dining hall.”

“i think he just has one of those… intense faces,” i said, already hating how lame that sounded.

heather gave me a look. “babe. be serious.”

i shrugged. “it’s not like it means anything. he’s just flirty with everyone. that’s his thing.”

“right,” jenna said with a knowing smirk. “and you just happen to blush every time he talks to you because you’re allergic to compliments.”

“i’m not blushing right now,” i shot back.

“because he’s not here,” heather said.

i rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to argue—but i didn’t get the chance.

strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist and i let out a shriek, my cup of lemonade launching into the air.

“what the—kimi!”

before i could protest any further, i was lifted completely off the dock.

“no, no, no—don’t you dare—!”

he started towards the end of the dock which made me shriek more, my arms went instinctively around his neck, holding on tight in the name of self-preservation.

“oh, now you want to be close to me?” he teased, walking us steadily toward the edge of the dock.

“you’re insane. put me down—gently.”

“i was going to,” he said innocently, “but then you started holding on like your life depended on it. can’t say i hate it.”

“you are impossible,” i hissed.

“i’ve been called worse.”

he then tried to throw me off, but this was made difficult because due to how i was clinging to him like a koala.

he huffed. and then, he didn’t throw me in.

he just… fell.

pulled us both down into the lake with one solid, dramatic step, like he couldn’t bear to let go of me either.

the water was shock-cold against the warm air, wrapping around us in a whoosh of bubbles and sunken laughter. i hadn’t realized how tightly i’d been holding onto him until we hit the water—and even then, i didn’t let go.

we hovered there under the surface, still tangled together, limbs brushing. i felt his hand steady on my back, the soft pressure of his chest against mine. he looked at me underwater, amused, and something warm stirred in my stomach.

then—light as a whisper—his mouth brushed the edge of my jaw. too soft to be on purpose. too lingering to be an accident.

i blinked at him through the water.

and then we broke the surface, gasping and laughing. i pushed my wet hair out of my face and splashed him.

“you’re ridiculous,” i said, half out of breath.

“you liked it,” he grinned, swimming backward, smug and soaked.

behind us, heather and jenna were howling with laughter, someone was already yelling, “called it!” and i dove under the water, swimming to shore, hoping to hide the heat rising in my cheeks.

pretended it didn’t mean anything.

pretended it wasn’t everything.

— august 1st —

breakfast at camp was always chaotic in a familiar, comforting way—wooden benches scraping against the floor, the smell of slightly-burnt toast, kids yelling over one another about what table got pancakes first. organized chaos.

i sat at my usual table with my girls, doing my best to mediate a very passionate debate about whether ketchup belonged on eggs (it did) while keeping an eye on the one camper who always tried to sneak a third juice box.

everything was normal. or at least it should’ve been.

until i felt it again.

the staring.

i didn’t have to look. i knew. kimi’s eyes drifted across the dining hall and landed on me like i was the only person eating breakfast in a room of a hundred. and for some reason, he still hadn’t figured out how not to make it obvious.

i took a sip of my lukewarm coffee, very purposely not looking in his direction. if i didn’t look, i could pretend it wasn’t happening. that was the game. denial was key.

but of course, his campers had zero interest in subtlety.

“broooo, stop looking at her!” one of his boys, landon, shrieked loud enough for half the room to hear, voice cracking halfway through.

i didn’t flinch. didn’t blink. just nodded along as one of my girls described a dream that featured a dinosaur, her dad, and tate mcrae.

“she’s not even at our table, man, focus on your oatmeal!” jake added.

i bit down on the inside of my cheek, eyes trained firmly on the center of my table, nodding like i was still deeply invested in a camper’s retelling of her dream from last night.

“i think he’s trying to use his italian rizz again,” noah whispered—but not really whispered—like the concept of volume was optional.

adam wacked noah's hat, which was backwards, off. “his italian rizz doesn’t work when he stares through her skull, bro. she’s not, like, telekenesis or whatever that mind-reading power is.”

“do you think it works better in another language?” levi asked.

“ciao bella, you wanna share a canoe?” landon mimicked, throwing on the worst italian accent i’d ever heard in my life. the entire table burst into laughter. i heard kimi mumble something that must have been some curse word.

i pressed my lips together and absolutely did not smile. nope. not even a twitch. i was focused. ketchup-on-eggs level of focused.

“ma che cavolo…” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like this was a daily occurrence (it was). “i’m literally not even looking,” he muttered.

“you were literally staring,” noah said, dramatically rolling his eyes.

“no i’m not!” kimi snapped, voice cracking just slightly in a way that did nothing to help his case. “ragazzi! basta! just eat your cereal!”

“bro, he’s blushing!” jake yelled.

“dude, she’s gonna notice, and then you’ll have to move back to italy from embarrassment.”

“ask her out already! you’re so slow!”

kimi groaned again, sliding down in his seat like he wanted to disappear into the floor. “dio mio…”

and then—disaster struck.

one of his campers, matthew, a thirteen-year-old with absolutely no self-preservation instinct, shout across the hall, straight at my table, specifically at the girl directly across from me, “HEY LAYLA! ASK Y/N OUT FOR KIMI, HES SCARE-” he was cut off by kimi covering his mouth with his hand but the damage was already done.

my campers paused. then all hell broke loose. and it wasn’t even just our table. the sheer volume of the commotion had gotten the attention of all the other tables.

“i told you he was staring at her yesterday during canoe check-in!” another girl howled, slapping the table. “you didn’t believe me!”

“guys, guys—ask her if she’ll go on a date with him!”

“should we write it on a napkin?? pass it over like in class?!”

“NO,” I said firmly, but of course, my face betrayed me by turning an absolutely traitorous shade of red. “guys, eat your eggs.”

i refused to look over at kimi. i didn’t have to. i felt the heat coming off of him. the entire dining hall was vibrating, and there was no escape.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” Landon yelled, spinning around and ordering like a tiny general. “SHE’S RIGHT THERE! SHE MIGHT HEAR! HAVE SOME RESPECT!”

i took a deep breath. calm. cool. professional. unbothered.

my campers, the lovely girls they were, quietly whispered, trying to keep it a secret, as if the entire dining hall wasn’t jittering, “so do you like him?”

“i don’t even know what you’re talking about,” i said, taking a very casual sip of my coffee.

then i choked on it.

because from across the room, kimi finally looked up, cheeks red, muttered something in italian that sounded vaguely like a prayer, and grinned at me.

I did not like him. i had rules to keep.

— august 6th —

it was almost 2:45 a.m. when the unmistakable sound of muffled giggles and the creak of cabin floorboards yanked me from my sleep.

at first, i thought one of the girls was sneaking off to the bathroom. but then came the second sound—quick footsteps just outside the door, followed by a suspiciously soft thunk.

i sat up, immediately suspicious.

then came more whispering. another thunk. a laugh—quickly shushed.

groaning, i dragged myself out of bed, still wrapped in my favourite hoodie and matching grey sweatpants, hair a mess and eyes barely open. i shoved my feet into my crocs and stumbled to the door with every intention of scaring off whatever little monsters were giggling outside.

i yanked the door open.

bad move.

WHOOSH.

a full bucket of freezing water dumped straight on my head.

everything stopped. my breath caught in my throat. cold soaked through every layer in an instant.

my hoodie clung to my arms like wet seaweed, and my sweatpants were sagging from the water weight. i stood there, stunned, dripping, homicidal.

slowly, i looked up at the porch roof. a bucket lay upside-down near the edge.

on the path, frozen mid-step, stood alex—kimi’s personal twelve-year-old goblin of a camper—eyes wide with horror.

“oh my—,” he whispered. “it wasn’t supposed to fall—”

i stepped off the porch like a ghost straight from a horror movie.

alex let out a strangled squeak and scrambled backward.

behind him, more campers peeked from behind trees and bushes, giggling—until they saw my face.

“abort mission!” landon hissed from the shadows.

“dude. fix it.”

jake shoved kimi forward like a peace offering. “flirt with her- grovel- i don’t know!”

kimi stumbled a little, catching his balance as he stepped between me and alex. he looked like he was about to say something clever—but then his eyes landed on me.

and lingered.

i peeled off my hoodie with an angry huff, wringing it out with both hands. my t-shirt underneath was soaked too, clinging to my body like a bodysuit.

kimi blinked once. then again. his eyes dropped before he caught himself and immediately snapped his gaze up and to the side, ears going red.

“wow,” he said, clearing his throat, “that shirt is—um—very… absorbent.”

i raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over my chest automatically, which only made his jaw tighten as he visibly forced himself to keep eye contact.

“okay,” he muttered, voice pitching awkwardly. “let me fix this.”

he pulled his hoodie off in one quick motion and stepped closer, holding it out to me like an offering to an angry deity. it was still warm, soft, and smelled like smoke, pine, and whatever stupid cologne he pretended was just “soap.”

“you think a hoodie’s gonna fix this?” i said flatly, still dripping.

“well… it’s one of my favourites,” he replied, trying to smile. “only the prettiest, scariest girl at camp gets to wear it.”

i stared at him.

“that’s you,” he added quickly. “just to be clear.”

i snatched it from him and tugged it over my head, shivering slightly as the warmth sank into my skin. his fingers brushed my arm as he helped untwist the sleeve, and i hated how nice it felt. how easy he was to like when he wasn’t being an agent of chaos.

“better?” he asked with a crooked smile.

“no.” but my voice cracked slightly from the cold.

“you know,” he said, still lingering a step too close, “i could make it up to you. a muffin? maybe your own hoodie? one that hasn’t been part of a war crime?”

i sighed.

“you’re lucky i’m too tired to commit actual murder.”

he grinned. “means i’ve got a shot.”

from the bushes, one of the kids whispered, “he’s winning.”

“GO TO BED,” i barked, and they scattered.

kimi stayed a second longer, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at me like he wanted to say something else but didn’t know how.

“you gonna be warm enough?” he asked finally.

“i’m fine.”

“you sure? you’re not gonna slip in your crocs and drown in a puddle?”

i shot him a glare over my shoulder and turned back toward my cabin.

but i didn’t give the hoodie back.

and maybe—just maybe—i didn’t totally hate how warm it was.

— august 11th —

the woods were quieter than usual.

darkness was draping itself over the trees, the moonlight shining through certain bare spots in the woods, bugs hummed everywhere and nowhere at the same time, the air heavy summer humidity that made your shirt stick to your back by the time you'd gone five steps. kimi walked beside me, talking about some gossip his mom had updated him on from back home.

we were supposed to be looking for campers, tagging the ones hiding in the woods for the big camp-wide game so they’d have to run back to base and start over. “night watchers.” sounded dramatic. for me,  it was a nice excuse to walk in the dark and pretend i wasn’t entirely aware of every time his hand brushed mine.

“i feel like we’re the villains of this game,” i said, scanning the trees. “just walking around, destroying dreams and catching kids in the act.”

“you say that like it’s not the best part,” kimi replied, his voice casual. he was twirling his flashlight in his hand like it was just an accessory, not something he was actually using. “we’re the final boss. very powerful.”

i rolled my eyes. “you and this power complex again.”

he smirked. “i’m just saying… the kids scream when they see me. that’s impact.”

“that’s trauma,” i corrected. “you’re lucky they’re not in therapy already.”

he laughed, and i glanced over at him—just a quick peek. of course, he was already looking at me. of course. his eyes crinkled a little when he smiled, and i hated that i noticed that. i also hated that i didn’t look away fast enough.

“you like being out here with me,” he said suddenly.

i blinked. “what?”

“you do,” he said, grinning wider now. “you always end up paired with me on these shifts.”

“yeah, well, the directors seem to think we work well together,” i stammered.

“mmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure that's the only reason.”

i kicked a rock off the path, face heating against my will. “don’t flatter yourself, antonelli.”

“too late,” he said with a shrug. “you like me.”

“i like not running,” i corrected. “this is the laziest job and you just happen to show up every time i’m assigned it. that’s all.”

“you’re flustered.”

“i’m not!”

he laughed, smug and just a little too close. i shoved his shoulder.

god, he was so annoying.

“you’re one to talk about flustered,” i said, straightening a little. “remember breakfast?”

that stopped him. “breakfast?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you forgot,” I said, turning to grin at him now, the confidence slowly crawling back into my voice. “You staring at me from across the dining hall like it was the most subtle thing in the world. Your campers screamed at you.”

Kimi groaned. “That was not my fault.”

“Uh-huh. Because you definitely didn’t have the world’s worst staring problem.”

“I did not have a—”

“‘Broooo, stop looking at her!’” I mimicked in my best high-pitched camper voice.

He buried his face in his hands for a second. “They’re demons.”

“‘He’s trying to use his Italian rizz again!’” I added dramatically.

He dropped his hands with a groan. “You’re evil.”

“I’m accurate.”

“You loved it.”

I opened my mouth to argue—but couldn’t. He caught that, too. Of course he did.

“See?” he said, nudging my shoulder with his. “You liked it.”

I scoffed. “Please. I had to explain what the word rizz meant to the directors.”

“I made you blush, didn’t I?”

“You made yourself blush.”

“No way,” he said. “You did first.”

I shook my head, but I could feel the color creeping into my cheeks again. I looked away.

He leaned in a little, not touching but closer now. “You're blushing right now, cara mia.”

I shoved his arm. “Stop calling me things I don’t understand!”

He just grinned. “Would you rather I translate it?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Kimi—”

“It means ‘my dear.’”

Oh.

I blinked at him, my mouth going dry. “That’s—why would you—”

“I told you,” he said, tilting his head with a faux-innocent shrug, “you like me.”

“I—” I choked on the word and shook my head fast. “You’re delusional.”

“You’re in denial.”

I sped up my pace to get away from the smugness radiating off of him, but he easily matched my steps, his grin only getting bigger.

“You so are.”

“I’m literally just here to tag campers,” I muttered. “This is my job.”

“And I’m just here for the game,” he said lightly.

I glanced sideways at him.

We both knew we were lying.

— august 21st —

i don’t know when it shifted.

maybe it was gradual—like water warming under a flame, slow enough that i didn’t notice until it was too hot to touch.

but it hit me all at once.

i was brushing sand off my legs after waterfront, still damp from swimming, and someone said his name—just in passing. a joke. something dumb about how he helped carry a canoe like it was nothing. everyone laughed. i smiled too, automatically. like muscle memory.

and then it hit me.

i like him.

not the heehee haha kind of like i had been telling myself it was. not the kind of like where you tell your friends he's hot and tease each other when he walks by. not a surface-level crush you nurse for fun during the summer and forget by september.

i actually like him.

i felt it like a wave slamming into my chest, all salt and pressure. i sat down on the edge of the dock like my knees gave out.

oh no.

i like the way he notices things. how he always grabs an extra juice box at breakfast because he knows i never get one.

i like the way his voice sounds when he says my name, even if i pretend not to notice.

i like the way he looks at me like i’m someone worth staring at.

and i hate that i like that.

because he’s leaving.

of course he’s leaving.

this is camp. summer. temporary. that’s the whole point.

and he’s not staying in canada.

he said it like it was nothing. just a fact. like saying he didn’t like olives.

i should’ve listened more closely when he said he wasn't staying.

he’s not even trying to stay.

he’s not mine.

he never was.

i pressed my hands to my face and groaned, low and quiet, like if i got the sound out of my chest it might take the feelings with it.

stupid. so stupid.

i don’t want this. i don’t want to care about someone who’s already halfway gone.

i don't want to be the girl who falls for the summer boy with the smile and the accent and the stupid curly hair.

i want to go back.

back to teasing him and pretending like none of it mattered.

back to not looking forward to night watcher shifts.

back to pretending i didn’t feel anything.

i have to kill this feeling. now.

so that’s the new plan.

i’ll avoid him. not in a dramatic, over-the-top way. just… enough. i won’t sit next to him. i won’t stay behind when he lingers after staff meetings. i won’t walk with him after curfew or laugh at his dumb one-liners or let my eyes meet his across the dining hall.

i’ll let it fade.

it has to fade.

because the alternative—

the alternative is letting myself fall harder for someone who’s already made it clear he’s not staying.

and i can’t do that.

not again. the rules were in place for a reason.

so no more late-night dock talks.

no more brush-of-the-shoulder, is-this-flirting or not moments.

no more getting soft because he says cara mia in a voice that makes my name feel different.

i’ll be fine.

i just have to forget i ever liked him in the first place.

Easy.

— August 25th —

camp was quiet in the strangest way.

the kind of quiet that felt wrong. no shouting across the field, no whistles, no splashing at the waterfront, no kids trying to convince me that brushing their teeth “technically” counted as showering.

just leftover tan lines, half-zipped duffel bags, and the smell of the last campfire still hanging in the air.

cleanup week was always a little depressing, but i didn’t mind the work. scrubbing out cabins, hauling lost and found bins, folding half-destroyed t-shirts into boxes for next year, it kept my hands busy.

which was good. because my head was a mess.

i hadn’t talked to kimi in three days.

not really.

sure, there had been a few hellos, a nod here and there. but nothing real. no quiet late-night conversations or casually bumping shoulders on the path.

because i was trying not to. on purpose.

it shouldn’t have mattered anymore. the campers were gone. camp was wrapping up. in a few days, we’d all be scattered—back to cities, universities, real life. he’d be back on a plane. probably already had a suitcase half-packed.

so why did it still ache when i saw him out of the corner of my eye?

why did i still know the exact sound of his laugh from across the dining hall when the staff was eating their leftover pizza and pretending they weren’t about to cry when they left this place?

i was elbow-deep in a plastic bin of sports equipment when i felt someone behind me. not footsteps—just the weight of presence.

i didn’t turn around.

but of course.

“did i do something?”

his voice was soft. careful.

i took my time adjusting the dodgeballs, hoping maybe he’d give up.

he didn’t.

“because if i did, i want to fix it,” he added. “but i feel like you’ve been—”

he paused, searching for the word.

“—distant.”

i forced a laugh, short and hollow. “i’ve been busy.”

“right,” he said, clearly not buying it. “busy avoiding me?”

i finally looked up. he was standing just a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, hair a little messy like he’d just taken off his hat. he looked… confused. and a little frustrated.

i shrugged. “it’s the end of the summer. everyone’s doing their own thing.”

“that’s not what this is,” he said, stepping closer. “come on. i know you.”

those words—i know you—they hit me right in the gut.

because he did.

i didn’t say anything. i just turned back to the bin and started aggressively re-rolling a soccer jersey that was never going to fold properly.

“you don’t even look at me anymore,” he said quietly. “did i say something wrong?”

“no.”

“then what is it?” he asked, more desperate now. “you were fine last week. and now you act like i’m… like i don’t even exist.”

i squeezed my eyes shut for a second and inhaled. big mistake. he smelled like lake water and camp laundry detergent. and that stupid cologne.

“i don’t want to do this right now,” i said, trying to keep my voice steady.

kimi stepped closer. “why not?”

“because you’re leaving,” i said sharply, finally turning to look at him, eyes hot. “okay? you’re not staying. and i don’t want to make things more complicated than they already are.”

he blinked, stunned silent for a moment.

i hadn’t meant to say it like that.

“i’m not asking you to make things complicated,” he said softly.

“no, but i made it complicated,” i shot back, trying to shove the lid on the bin. “and now i need to uncomplicate it.”

his eyes searched mine like he wanted to argue, but i didn’t let him. i grabbed the bin, hauled it to the storage closet, and didn’t look back.

i needed space. i needed logic. i needed a time machine to take me back before i let myself fall for the one person who was never going to stay. i needed to go back to when i started breaking rule 3 and slap some sense into her.

and most of all, i needed this summer to end.

before i did something stupid.

like ask him to stay.

— august 26th —

nine weeks. nine weeks of working with him. nine weeks of stupid jokes. nine weeks of our cabins pranking each other. nine weeks of him stealing my bug spray because he didn't bring any from italy. nine weeks of long talks at the fires after our campers had all gone to sleep. nine weeks of lingering touches. nine weeks of flirting. nine weeks of flustered sighs. nine weeks of teasing from campers. nine weeks of ignoring said teasing. nine weeks of the damn feelings not leaving, but not having enough willpower to distance myself from him.

i was back on the end of the dock, my toes dangling in the water, breathing in the fresh air. the lake was beautiful tonight. calm, reflecting the clear night sky. it was quiet, the only sounds coming from crickets in the woods and quiet laughter and voices from a fire across the little bay we were situated on. the other counsellors had all gone to sleep after the late night bonfire party we had to celebrate the end of the summer. i took in a deep breath, letting my hands run gently over the smooth wood of the dock. it was always bittersweet to leave camp, but this time was particularly bad.

i buried my head in my hands. gosh, i was so damn stupid. i had that feeling in my chest, like that tightness you have when you need to sob.

we only had two more days at camp until we went home. It had only been a day since our conversation. I hated ignoring kimi. i knew it bothered him. hell, it probably bothered me more. but i knew i had to detach from him before i went home. i needed to get rid of the feelings which had been bubbling up over the past nine weeks. i shouldn’t have let the feelings develop in the first place, but now, i was in a situation where every time i saw his face, the tips of my ears felt hot, i could feel the butterflies in my stomach and my heart began pounding ridiculously fast.

stolen glances, lingering touches, teasing, subtle flirting. what the hell was i thinking?

it could never work. Maybe if i had known that he was a formula one driver from the very beginning, i could have stopped myself from liking him. Why did he have to be a formula one race-car driver? and why did he have to be a damn good one too? Before him, i didn't know much about formula one, except for charles leclerc from the tiktok edits that popped up on my fyp and hamilton from cars, but he patiently and passionately explained it. I learn about the paddock, the pits, the other drivers. I knew things now. he'd be driving for mercedes this coming march, travelling around the world, probably getting with those drop dead gorgeous models who walked around the paddock.

maybe i let myself like him because at the time, i didn’t realise how impossible the situation was until it was too late.

maybe i let myself like him because i didn’t know he would be travelling for practically the entire year.

maybe i let myself like him because i thought maybe, just maybe, there's a chance this could work. but there wasn’t, and i was stupid for thinking otherwise.

i knew he was behind me before he spoke. kimi was a quiet walker, but you can’t silence the vibrations sent by your feet through a dock. i stayed silent though, not saying anything, not moving, silently praying he'd just leave.

“why are you ignoring me?” kimi’s voice cut through the silence. i breathed in softly and didn’t move, keeping my head forward, watching the moon's reflection in the still waters.

“i told you. i dont want to make things more complicated.” i said simply, trying to keep my voice steady but there was a subtle shake in the last few words. i could hear him huff in frustration before marching over and sitting next to me, letting the tips of his sandals dip in the water.

“y/n.” he said heatedly. angry? maybe. but there was something else there too. “look at me. What did i do?” he was pleading.

i looked at him. goodness, he was beautiful. everything about him made my heart beat quicker and i was forced to calm my breathing. “You did nothing, kimi. i’m fine.”

"no, somethings wrong,” he countered.

“kimi, there's nothin-” i began, but was quickly cut off.

“no, it's not nothing. suddenly you just don’t want to speak to me, look at me, or even be in the same room.” he shot back. he was angry, but i could still hear the pleading in his voice. he was hurt. i didn't want to hurt him, but i knew i couldn’t tell him why i had to.

“i don’t know, i’m just tired-” i mumbled feebly, turning away again, when i felt kimi’s hand grab mine, pulling my attention back to his face.

“no, you’re not. something else is going on. i’ve seen you tired, and you are never like this! you have never acted like this when you’re tired. i’m leaving in two days and you can’t even look at me!” he insisted. his voice had the shake mine did.

i didn’t answer and he pushed again. i could feel the tears welling in my eyes. no. i could not cry. not tonight. not over a stupid boy. even if that boy was the sweetest person in the whole world.

“y/n whats-” i got up at his words and started walking down the dock but he was faster, getting up after me and grabbing my wrist gently. “-wrong?”

“what if i don’t want to get hurt, kimi?” i snapped, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“what do you mean?! by me? i would never hurt you-” he started, but this time i cut him off.

“you’re leaving me kimi! i mean you’re going off to be a formula one driver, and you won’t have time for me anymore, and i’ll see you with some other girl-” i caught myself. crap. i felt a few of the tears beginning to fall. i pursed my lips, looking down. i tried to pull my wrist away, but he held me firm.

“w-what are you talking ab-”

i couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“i like you, dammit! Not just a little crush! Not just one I can be teased about! I genuinely have feelings for you, and it is physically sickening how far gone i am. and now you’re going off to your mercedes drivers training, then you will g-go to formula one and i’ll never see you again, and i’ll have to watch you succeed from here, with some rich girl on your arm that won’t be me. And I hate it,” I spat, pacing back and forth at the edge of the dock.

he opens his mouth to interject but i raise a finger "I'm not done."

“i hate feeling this way. i hate you making me feel this way. i hate how you stare at me like it means something when you’re just going to leave in a few days. i hate that you’re so damn perfect and i can’t get you out of my head. i hate the way you make me laugh when i’m supposed to be mad at you, and i hate how i’ve started thinking about you at night when i know i’m not supposed to. and i hate this damn pit in my stomach because i know it’s never going to happen. you’re leaving. you’re going back to that stupid, perfect life of yours, and i’m stuck here. and it’s killing me,” i breathed in and he looked like he was about to say something but i continued.

“i’ve been ignoring it for weeks, pretending like this didn’t matter because i knew it was just gonna hurt when you left. but then you kept looking at me—looking at me like i was the only one in the world who mattered, and i started to believe it! and now i’m here, standing in front of you, and i’m trying to convince myself that it’s just some stupid crush, or maybe it’s just this summer heat that’s getting to me, but it’s not. it’s real. and it fucking terrifies me.” i stopped in my tracks, chest heaving, crying.

he opens his mouth to interject but i raise a finger "i'm not done."

i took another breath before starting my rant again. “i don’t want to fall for you. i don’t. you’re leaving, kimi. and i’ve been so stupid because i thought maybe, just maybe, i could make it through the last days of camp without really feeling anything for you. but now i do. and i can’t—i can’t—watch you walk away without feeling like i’m breaking into a million pieces. you’re everything i’ve spent the last few weeks trying not to want.”

i could see his face change, the hurt there, but there was something else too—a softness in his eyes that didn’t match the anger and frustration in my voice.

“you’re so fucking selfish, kimi,” i spat out, the words bitter on my tongue. “you come into my life like it’s just this temporary thing, like i’m some game you can play with for a few weeks, and i’m supposed to act like everything’s fine while you go back to your perfect little life and forget about me! well, i’m not fine, okay? i’m not okay. and i’m not just some passing thing for you to fixate on until the end of the summer and then leave behind.”

“i let myself actually like you,” i said, my voice cracking. “and that was so stupid, because this isn’t real. it’s just camp, and you’re just—this perfect, impossible thing that i can’t have, and i hate that i let you get under my skin. i hate that i care—”

but i didn’t finish the sentence.

because suddenly, kimi’s hands were cupping my face and his mouth was on mine and everything—every word, every fight, every glance across the dining hall—fell away like it had just been waiting for this moment to crash.

i froze for a second, mid-breath, mid-heartbeat, before my body finally caught up with what was happening and i kissed him back. hard.

it wasn’t gentle. it wasn’t soft or slow or sweet. it was weeks of tension, of looking and not touching, of biting our tongues and pretending and denying and wanting. it was angry and messy and real.

when he finally pulled away, i was breathless and stunned, his forehead pressed against mine.

“you talk too much,” he whispered.

my heart was doing backflips. i tried to glare. “you’re one to talk.”

he laughed, just a little, and didn’t move. “you’re wrong, you know.”

“about what?”

“about this being camp. about this not being real.” he pulled back to look at me fully, eyes wide and shining. “i’m not letting you go just because the summer ends.”

“kimi, you have to.”

“no, listen.” his hands dropped to my shoulders like he needed to hold onto something solid. “you said you want to be an onsite medic. come with me.”

“what?”

“formula one teams travel with medics. we need people like you. i need someone like you. i’ll talk to the team doctor, or i’ll talk to toto. or—i don’t know—i’ll fake an injury just so they have to bring you. you’re smart, you’re trained, you’re already halfway there.”

i blinked. “you want me to—what—follow you across the world?”

“if that’s what it takes.” he was rambling now, his voice shaking a little with adrenaline. “or—or we do long distance. i’ll fly you out when you want to come. i’ll come back during the break. i’ll do long-distance. i’ll come back here in the winter. i’ll quit if i have to—”

“kimi—”

“i don’t care how we make it work, i just know i want to. i want you. i’m serious. i’ll give them excuses or fake injuries or learn how to crash a car safely if it means they have to bring you to me. i want you there. or here. or wherever you want to be, as long as you let me be in it with you.”

my brain had officially short-circuited.

“be my girlfriend,” he said, without even hesitating. “please. i’m asking you now before i lose the nerve.”

i stared at him, heart racing. “you’re serious.”

“i’ve never been more serious,” he said, breathless. “and you can still say no, if that’s what you want. but i’m in. i’ve been in. since, like, week two.”

i laughed—stupid, giddy, overwhelmed laughter—and shook my head. “you’re insane.”

“only for you,” he said, grinning. “say yes.”

i didn’t answer.

i just kissed him again.

this time it was slower, my eyes fluttered shut. i felt his hands on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping the tears which had fallen down my cheeks. one of his hands moved to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss with a content sigh. the other slid down to my ass, which made me roll my eyes and move his hand up to my lower back. i could feel him smiling against my lips. my hands moved to his hair, letting my fingers tangle in his curls. i felt his tongue swipe my lower lip, almost begging for an entrance. i would have rolled my eyes again but instead i gave him what he wanted, opening my mouth just enough for him to slip his tongue into my mouth and keep kissing me. my one hand was tangled in his hair, and the other moved to slide down the front of his hoodie. i heard him hum with contentment as i kept kissing him. when we finally broke the kiss, i wrapped my arms around him and hid my face in his chest. he held me tight. i didn't even realise i was still crying, maybe from the rant, maybe the weeks of tension and yearning, but he held me tight, tracing circles on my back, his chin resting on the top of my head, occasionally pressing kisses to it, mumbling stuff in italian which i still couldn’t understand. i felt his chest rising slowly and steadily, his fingers running down the back of my sweatshirt. and we stayed like that for a while, me in his arms, slowly pulling myself together, and kimi holding me as if i would sprint into the lake if he let go.

“so, you didn’t answer my question,” he said into my hair, his voice low and warm. “can i be your boyfriend… please?”

i didn’t look up. i couldn’t. my face was still buried in his hoodie, my emotions barely under control. but i gave a small nod, a soft hum of approval vibrating in my throat.

“use your words, mi vida,” he murmured in my ear, his hand gently finding my chin and tilting it until i was forced to meet his eyes.

“yes, kimi,” i said, breath catching. “i would love that.”

his gaze softened. one hand moved from my chin to my cheek, brushing away a stray tear. and then—he laughed. quiet, breathy, affectionate.

“stop laughing at me!” i protested, though the corner of my mouth was already tugging into a smile.

“i’m not—” he tried to defend, still laughing, “i just didn’t expect you to be crying when i finally asked you out.”

i rolled my eyes but leaned into his touch anyway, my heart doing that fluttery thing it had no business doing.

“you know you made me break my third rule?” i said, voice barely above a whisper.

he smirked. “yeah, i heard about that one. ‘don’t fall for anyone at camp,’ right?” he stepped closer, arms sliding fully around me. “didn’t really go that well for you, huh?”

“oh, shut up,” i muttered, burying my face back into his chest to hide the smile i couldn’t stop.

maybe breaking my rules was a little okay.

© all works belong to tonellivision. please do not copy, translate or reupload to third party websites or feed my work to ai, character bots or recommend on tiktok/ twitter.

[honeyslibrary]

Shutout | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Smut, angst(?), cursing, not sure what else, edited once. The ending is very abrupt and kind of awkward but I'm tired of looking at it so maybe one day I'll go back and fix it probably not though.

Summary; Canucks lose to the Seattle Kraken and Quinn needs a release except is kind of weird because I have a tiny kink for men crying (? newly discovered) so yeah. 

Word Count; 2.5k

Author's note; I don't care for this and I may delete it.  Also it's not my best work but uh yeah. Also life is lowkey kicking my ass but we are powering through. Any thoughts are appreciated 😊 -Honey

Quinn, who was usually all soft touches and whispered praises in bed, became an entirely different man when anger simmered beneath his skin. It didn’t happen often—he was patient, level-headed, the kind of person who shrugged off most things with a quiet sigh. But when he did get angry, it was usually because of one of two things: the Canucks losing a game, or him playing like shit in said game.

And when that happened, there was no slow, sensual love-making. No lingering kisses, no careful caresses. No, when Quinn was angry, he took. Pressed you into the mattress, into the wall, bent you over whatever was closest. He used you—gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, drove into you with a desperation that had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with exorcising the frustration knotted inside him. He wouldn’t stop until he felt something shift, until the tension in his muscles melted away, until he was wrecked enough to forget the sting of failure.

And you? You were his outlet, his release, the only thing that could pull him from the storm raging inside his head. He’d make you come again and again, dragging you over the edge until your body was trembling, until your voice was hoarse from moaning his name. Because when Quinn was in this kind of mood, satisfaction wasn’t just a desire—it was a necessity. And he wouldn’t stop until he had wrung every ounce of it from you.

You had barely stepped through the door before Quinn was on you. His grip was firm, desperate, fingers digging into your waist like you were the only thing tethering him to the present. The Canucks had just suffered a brutal 5-0 loss to the Seattle Kraken—one that all but crushed their playoff hopes—and no one felt the weight of it more than Quinn.

He had been eerily silent on the drive home, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road like he was still replaying every mistake, every missed opportunity. When you had approached him outside the locker room, searching his face for some sign of how he was handling it, he had brushed past you with a stiff nod, his expression unreadable. But now, with the door closed behind you, his emotions bled through in a different way.

There was no hesitation. No words. Just Quinn, seething frustration radiating from his body as he scooped you up without a second thought. He didn’t give you the chance to question him, to ask if he was okay—because he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to talk.

He carried you upstairs with single-minded purpose, the tension in his muscles betraying the storm inside him. When he reached your shared bedroom, he dropped you onto the mattress with a kind of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine. His breathing was heavy, his eyes dark with something unspoken.

Quinn didn’t need comfort. He needed release. And you were the only one who could give it to him.

Your clothes were gone in seconds—torn from your body with a desperation that left no room for patience. His hands were rough, hurried, gripping, pulling, as if he couldn’t stand the barrier of fabric between you for even a moment longer. And then he was on you, over you, inside you—all heat and frustration, no warning, no foreplay, no condom. Just need. Raw and unfiltered.

His fingers curled around the headboard, knuckles white with the force of his grip as he snapped his hips into you, each thrust sending a sharp creak through the mattress. The rhythm was relentless, punishing, each movement driving deeper, faster, as if he was chasing something neither of you could name.

You let your eyes slip shut, surrendering to it—to him. The way his body moved against yours, the heat of his skin, the sheer force of his frustration being poured into you. You welcomed it. Let yourself drown in the pleasure, the intensity, the way he used your body to quiet the chaos inside his own.

“It’s not fuckin’ fair,” he groans, his hips snapping into you with an unrelenting force. His frustration bleeds into every movement, every rough thrust, like he’s trying to fuck the disappointment out of his system.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting his as he looms over you. His gaze is dark, stormy—anger and exhaustion warring behind the glassy sheen of his frustration. His chest heaves, sweat slicking his skin, muscles taut with tension he can’t shake. For a moment, his grip on the headboard loosens, and his hand drifts down, fingers brushing against your face with a gentleness that contradicts the rest of him. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as if grounding himself in you.

“I do so much,” he grits out, his voice strained.

“You do,” you murmur, nodding, knowing there’s nothing you can say to ease the ache inside him.

His jaw clenches, a deep, ragged moan breaking from his lips as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. He’s unraveling, but he’s not ready to stop—not yet.

“I played through my injuries,” he growls, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust. “So much fucking pain… all of it—for nothing. Just to miss the goddamn playoffs anyway.”

His voice is laced with bitterness, laced with frustration, but underneath it all, there’s something else—something heavier. Defeat. And you feel it, in the way he moves, the way his hands grip your body like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“I-It’s not your fault,” you moan out, voice breaking as your back arches beneath him. His cock drags against that perfect spot inside you, sending a sharp wave of pleasure up your spine, making your breath hitch.

Quinn lets out a laugh, but there’s nothing light about it. It’s cutting, edged with something self-destructive. His grip tightens on your waist, fingertips pressing hard enough to leave marks.

“Whose fault is it, then?” he questions, almost demanding. His hips snap forward, forcing another moan from your lips.

You don’t have an answer—not one he’ll accept.

“I’m the Captain.” Another thrust, deep, punishing. His jaw clenches, frustration burning in his eyes as he glares down at you.

“This is all on me.” Another thrust—harder this time, as if trying to fuck the guilt out of his own body, as if the act itself could erase the weight of responsibility crushing his chest.

The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard rattling against the wall with every forceful movement. His breath is ragged, his muscles tense, and though he’s buried inside you, his mind is somewhere else—lost in the what-ifs, the could-have-beens, the relentless weight of expectations he feels he hasn’t met.

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of doing everything,” he breathes out, but this time, his voice isn’t rough with frustration—it’s fragile, barely more than a whimper. His body presses against yours, the weight of him sinking into you, his exhaustion seeping into your skin. His head falls into the crook of your neck, damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead, his breath hot and uneven against your pulse.

“So fucking tired,” he murmurs, voice cracking on the last word.

Before you can respond, a ragged moan rips from his throat, raw and agonizing. His entire body tenses, fingers digging into your hips as he spills inside you, thrusting shallowly as he rides out his release. His hips jerk with every pulse, fucking his cum deeper into you, but there’s no longer that sharp, frenzied desperation behind it—just something heavy, something broken.

You’re teetering on the edge yourself, pleasure coiling tight in your core when you suddenly feel something warm hit your neck. A single drop. Then another. Then the quiet, shuddering sound of Quinn’s breath hitching as a sob escapes him.

Your eyes snap open, your heart lurching in your chest.

Quinn was never one to shy away from emotion, but this—this was different. He had never sobbed in front of you before. Not even when the Canucks got eliminated in the second round last season, not even in his worst moments of frustration.

His hips still, his body going rigid, his breath coming in shaky, uneven gasps. Another quiet sob escapes him, muffled against your skin, and that’s when you realize—he isn’t just tired. He’s breaking.

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him in tighter. One hand glides soothingly down his back, feeling the tremble of his muscles beneath your touch, while the other tangles in his damp hair, fingers threading through the strands in slow, comforting strokes.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his temple. “I’ve got you.”

Quinn shudders against you, his breath coming in uneven gasps, his body still pressed tightly to yours. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion.

You don’t let him finish. “Don’t apologize,” you murmur softly.

His breath hitches, another sob shaking through him, and his hands tighten their hold on you. “Just—” his voice breaks, the words barely making it out before he exhales sharply. “It’s just so much pressure.”

You feel the way his body trembles against yours, the weight of the season, the losses, the expectations pressing down on him like a crushing force. He had carried it all for so long—on the ice, in the locker room, in every interview where he shouldered the blame, in every moment where he put the team before himself.

But here, in your arms, there’s no need for that. No expectations. No burden he has to bear alone.

“I know,” you whisper, your fingers still threading gently through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “I know, baby.”

His breathing is still shaky, but he exhales against your skin like he’s finally letting some of it go, like the pressure that’s been caging him in is cracking just enough for him to breathe.

You hold him through it, not saying anything more, because you know he doesn’t need words right now. He just needs this. Needs you.

And you’re more than willing to be that for him.

Quinn stays wrapped around you for a while, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. His sobs fade into quiet, relaxed breaths, and slowly—so slowly—his body begins to relax. His grip on you loosens just a little, his fingers no longer clutching like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You keep holding him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands against your fingertips. Every so often, you whisper little reassurances—soft, meaningless things that aren’t really meaningless at all. I love you. You’re okay. I’m here.

And eventually, after another long moment, he shifts, lifting his head just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are still glassy, red-rimmed, but there’s something softer there now, something less dejected. He blinks at you, then sniffles, scrubbing a hand down his face as if embarrassed.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “I—”

You shake your head before he can say it. “Don’t.”

A small, almost sheepish huff leaves his lips, and though it’s not quite a laugh, it’s something lighter than before. His arms tighten around you for a second before he finally shifts, drawing back.

Carefully, he pulls out of you, and you wince slightly at the sudden emptiness, at the mess left between your thighs. Quinn notices immediately, his brows furrowing, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmurs. He presses one last kiss against your collarbone before sitting up and moving off the bed.

You watch as he disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm, damp cloth. He’s gentle as he wipes you down, his touch slow and careful, the rough edges of his frustration from earlier completely gone now. When he’s finished, he tosses the cloth aside and settles back in beside you, pulling the blanket over both of you before wrapping an arm around your waist.

For a while, neither of you say anything. Just the steady rhythm of breathing, the quiet hum of the furnace. Quinn’s arm stays draped over your waist, his fingers idly tracing little circles against your skin. His body is warm, heavy with exhaustion, but his breathing has finally evened out, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away.

Then, after a moment, he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His voice is quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Did you…” He pauses, rubbing a hand over his face before trying again. “Did you cum?”

You blink up at him, lips parting slightly. You think about sparing his pride, but the way his expression shifts—hopeful but wary—makes you decide to be honest.

“Um, no,” you say, shaking your head.

Quinn stares at you for a second, then groans, flopping onto his back with a dramatic sigh.

“Fuck,” he mutters, covering his face with his hands. “Are you serious?”

You can’t help but laugh, the corners of your mouth curling up as you turn to face him. “Yeah. I mean, you kinda had a lot going on, Quinn.”

“I can’t believe this,” he groans again, dragging his hands down his face before peeking at you through his fingers. His ears are tinged pink now, embarrassment creeping in, and you swear you see an actual pout forming on his lips. “That’s so fucking embarrassing.”

You grin, rolling onto your side as you rest your head against his shoulder. “It’s not that deep.”

He huffs, clearly unconvinced. “No, it is. I just—God, that’s so bad.” His hand drops to his stomach as he stares up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I was too busy having a goddamn breakdown, and I didn’t even—” He exhales sharply. “Jesus.”

You giggle, nuzzling into his neck, your lips brushing against his jaw. “You’re cute when you get all flustered.”

Quinn groans again, turning his head to press his face into the pillow, clearly trying to hide from the world. “Don’t patronize me,” he mumbles, voice muffled.

You laugh, tugging the blanket up over both of you again, letting the warmth of the moment settle between you. After a few seconds, he turns his head back to face you.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he mumbles, “Promise.”

You hum, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You can make it up to me by telling me what's going on inside your head."

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. "Any chance I can get you to ignore what happened?"

"No," a laugh escapes you. "Now talk, or I'll get the team psychologist on your ass."

My Patreon, where you can find exclusive fics not posted anywhere else: HERE

[yourelliewillms]

driver!ellie headcanons

hiii, here are some headcanons bc i'm avoiding studying <3 PLEASE remember english is not my first language so there may be some mistakes, if you find one you can tell me !!

no smut again, just mention of it ? maybe if i do a part 2 i could add some. ANYWAYS ENJOY!!!

☆ she'd be so annoying honking when she picks you up at your house, almost five minutes straight honking and even the neighbors would complain about it.

☆ and once you get into the car and you are looking at her dead ass serious, she'd just kiss you. "looking cute today, babe"

☆ she drives fast, like really fast, and that would scare you the first times she drove you home but now you're used to it because you know that she's actually good at driving.

☆ she'd shout at the other drivers "HOW DID YOU GET THAT DRIVER'S LICENSE, MOTHERFUCKER" and then smile at you as if nothing happened.

☆ her car is a mess. there are rests of cigarettes, little money, some of your makeup, her clothes everywhere, some of YOUR clothes (underwear) too that you left there sometime when you two were... y'know. she promised to give them back but she just likes the view of them in there.

☆ also, you don't know how that car is still working. ellie is fixing it all the time, sometimes it'd stop working in the middle of the road and she would act all calm with you "don't worry, babe, i'll fix it" and then you can see her struggling and cursing from the windshield.

☆ the music is always on full volume, except when you're there because she likes to listen to you talk.

☆ when the road is almost empty and she can relax a little, one of her hands is on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

☆ at every red light, she'd give you a little peck on your lips or hand, or maybe make out for a few seconds when things are heating up.

☆ "did i show you the magic trick this baby can do?" she says and she'd move her seat back enough for her to be lying down on it and she'd look at you with a smirk and raise her eyebrows while tapping her lap with one of her hands.

☆ but sometimes the seat would get stuck and she gets all frustrated and just jumps into the back of the car.

☆ you'd follow her trying not to laugh and you'd spend hours making love there, you know she LOVES doing it in that car.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts," 

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

           [01:21] You: Jwannn

           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?” 

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 

How harmful can it be? 

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?” 

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

[ughdontbeboring]

hidden.

Feyd x Black/WoC Reader (can be read by anyone tho)

you and Feyd have this thing and it can never be more.

warnings: Feyd bc let’s be real, smut, a little degradation, breeding kink

note: I love feyd, don’t know if I did him justice at all BUT the need to write him just won’t leave me be. I have a few others in the works so let’s see how it goes. Also no proofread, it’s late and I’m horny so yea.

No description of ethnicity but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

x

x

You know you shouldn’t be doing this but you just can’t help yourself. In all honesty how could you be expected to control yourself and behave like a lady of a great house when HE exists, when he was fucking you completely stupid against this cold wall in a darken slightly hidden hallway in the fortress. 

You were extremely thankful this meeting of the great houses was taking place on Giedi Prime because not a living soul on this planet would dare speak of seeing the sight that the two of you made. Completely lost in each other, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked into you with a desperate need, his muscular ass on display, your face full of pleasure as he bite love marks into your chest where your breast were fully exposed - because he knows there’s less chance of anyone seeing and he only even thinks of that for you and your honor - His plump lips pulling a nipple into his soft wet mouth to suck making you cry out.

Even your handmaids could be sent away and wait where they wouldn’t be spotted without you because he could do so on his own home planet though he probably could manage it on any planet he was that feared. You were lucky enough to sway your father to let you bring the only two you knew you could trust. 

You could hardly keep your thoughts together when a particularly hard slow thrust made you scream out. You knew you were caught letting your mind wonder. 

He tsked against your ear, his blacken teeth nipping the lobe before his tongue flicked it.

“Am I boring you my lady?” His deep raspy voice questioned in the deathly quiet hallway. 

“No my love, know s-sometimes can’t help it” You answered breathlessly as you pulled your head back, your hand cradling his cheek as your eyes finally found each others.

Sometimes you got too caught in your thoughts and worries about being found, something he didn’t like. He was the kind of man that didn’t like anything to take your attention away from him and with the limited time your both able to find to be together he demanded you were fully present with him at all times and if not he’d have to bring that pretty little mind of yours back to the situation at hand.

He smirked, it was then you realized he had pulled out. The empty feeling sitting in. 

“Then let me help you” 

Before you could respond his thick long cock was pushing past your sensitive lips and burying its self deep within you to the hilt. You choked on your own scream as his pelvis pulled back and snapped forward with another hard thrust. You felt every veiny inch of him within your slick tight walls. 

“Oh fuck” you moaned eyes rolling back as he continued his short brutal thrusts “oh Feyd, please”. 

“Please what?” His deep voice mocked.

“Please, please wanna cum” you mumbled hardly getting the words out as your head fell backwards into the wall.

“Would you let me fuck you like this in front of all of them? In front of him?” He mocked some more, the “him” carrying the hatred you knew he had for the man he viewed as weak that your father had promised you to. 

“Oh god yes! ‘M all yours!” You yelled desperately, pinned to the wall like decor, a fine piece of art as he drove his cock into you at that tortuous pace. It was hard, slow and deep. 

His large rough callous hands which were somehow still soft held your bare ass under your dress to keep you in place as he fucked you. His fingers tips gripped you so tight you were sure there would be bruising. 

“Let him see how wet I make you? How my pretty girl screams for me? Begging for my cock?” He rasped as his eyes bore into yours, your faces were so close at this point your sure you both were just breathing in eachothers breaths.

Your tight walls clenched even harder on his throbbing cock causing him to falter slightly, his hips needing a split second to get back into rhythm. 

“Fuck!” He roared in that unique tone of his, “Look at you getting wet like a whore” he spat at you, though there was no malice.

“Getting fucking wet when I talk about fucking you in front of him, is that what you want? Want him and the whole known universe to know that you belong to me? That you belong to na-Baron Feyd Rutha Harkonnen? Know how well you take my cock?” He gritted, the look of pure possessiveness in his blue eyes as his nostrils flared, his full bottom lip being pulled between his teeth.

You couldn’t help the tears that sprung, and your nails that dug into his back no doubt breaking skin, you heard the hiss pass through his lips at the pleasure of it but he was just fucking you so good, splitting you wide open on his cock and saying the most nastiness things a lady of a great house should never hear. He was speaking to you a way no one would ever dare and it was driving crazy you like he knows it always does. 

“Y-yes! Wan’ them all to know!” You moaned as your shaky breath washed over his full lips. You closed the small space and took his mouth upon yours, his opening immediately to take dominance over your tongue. The kiss was just as messy and sloppy as the fucking currently happening in a hallway anyone could walk down. Yet you couldn’t care less because of the pure ecstasy he was making you feel and because you knew Feyd would kill anyone stupid enough to walk this way, let along gaze upon you in this state. 

The rest of the world may have not knew but those here did and they knew better than to ever speak on it. 

Here they all know you belong to Feyd and that made your heart soar because you’d give anything for all to know. 

“Fuck pretty girl” he groaned against your wet mouth, “You’re dripping down my balls, my fucking thighs are wet with you”.

His words just made you moan louder.

“Go head, cum for me, let go my pretty little pet” he rasped.

The scream that tore through you should make you embarrassed how much you sounded like a common whore but nothing in you could muster a care in the world. Feyd was worth everything. Worth getting caught, worth the embarrassment on your family, worth whatever came with being found out. 

Your body shook as the force of your orgasm pushed Feyd’s cock out, momentarily catching him off guard before the loss of your heat and your desperate whine at the action caused him to snap back in action and drive his cock back in til he was brushing your cervix. 

Your body continued to shake as your pussy claimed his cock in a vice grip and your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging open with some slight drool down the corner. Everything about the moment sent a chill down Feyd’s  spine as his balls drew tight and his cock swelled, the release of his cum shooting into your warmth and drenching your walls with his thick seed. 

How Feyd wished more then anything you both could allowed it to take, the thought of you claimed in that way, round with his child caused Feyd release to prolong. A groan ripping through his chest, as his cock continued to spurt his cum into your warm haven. Desperate to see you round, full of him. 

“Fuck!” 

Your hands guided his head as you brought him in for an embrace. Your faces pressed together.

The both of you stayed that way for awhile. Deep breathing slowly coming to a normal pace as the mixture from both your releases cooled on each of your thighs. 

He slowly pulled out his soften cock as you verbally mourned the loss. 

Feyd helped you fix yourself before slipping his cock back into his pants and pulling them back over his hips. He hadn’t pull them down far to begin with with the rush you both were in. Just enough to get his impressive cock out. 

“Did you mean it?” He asked catching you off guard with the softness and vulnerability of his deep raspy tone. 

You searched his handsome face looking for an answer before it hit you. You fought back the tears that threaten to fall. The sadness that washed over you you wished wasn’t the reality.

“Of course, more than anything but we both know it would never happen Feyd. I am already betrothed” you remind him. “My father will not reconsider, not while house Fenring has offered so much and he still carry’s hatred for the Baron”.

Feyd didn’t seem surprised at your statement, it was the truth you both knew. He just seemed to be contemplating and that worried you. You didn’t want him to do anything that would get himself into trouble.

x

It was two long days later when you got to see Feyd again, this time in the arena. You don’t understand how it all happened because it had happened so quickly. 

You were sitting up in the guest seats watching with a few the other young lady’s of great houses, gossiping about Feyds skill and brutality with the rest of your respective families when Feyd had just finished his slaughter. He stood there proud after taking off his shield and finishing in an even more entertaining way when all realized some of the slaves weren’t drugged. 

He raised a single fist as the roar from the area slowly came to a stop. A servant rushed to him handing over something. You sat watching with all wondering what was happening since this wasn’t customary for the end of the fight. 

“What is the na-Baron up to?” One of the lords from the other houses asked as everyone watched. 

Your heart raced as you watched through your glasses as he brought a mic up to his mouth. He smirked before announcing his challenge to the young lord of house Fenring for your hand in marriage.

You could swear he looked directly up at you high in the sky above him smirking before he cut his palm, made a fist and pounded his chest in a salute of ultimate respect. The stunned crowed of Giedi Prime following their beloved na-Baron. The sound was deafening. Your breathing stopped as you heard all the gasps around you. The young lady’s grasping at you asking a million questions as your father and Lord Fenring jumped to their feet yelling their rage at the disrespect of the young na-Baron. For they understood things were different here and just like the na-Baron was currently explaining on Giedi Prime his challenge must be accepted by the young lord himself and he would not be able to choose a fighter instead where the laws of marriage was considered. It was fight to the death or be shamed and seen as weak. Which on Giedi Prime was seen as the worst fate. To refuse meant House Harkkonen would refuse to acknowledge House Fenring because of their weakness. All deals and trade voided. 

You couldn’t slow your breathing as you leaned on the railing watching him watching you. You could hear the commotion around you and the young lord Fenring fighting with his father over his acceptance before making his way out the room. Hope bloomed in your chest, you knew your father could not refuse a display like this. Such an open declaration of love, of ownership. You were his and he would fight to the death to make it so in all ways.

It wasn’t long before you seen doors on the stadium floor beginning to open. And Feyd’s smirk turned into a monstrous smile full of blackened teeth. You were his and it was time all knew. Giedi Prime would finally have their na-Baroness. 

x

x

[tommydarlings]

wrong number, right time | T.W

pairing: professor!toto!wolff x student!reader

warnings: mentions of being under the influence of alcohol

w/c: 2.4k

summary: After realising that you need a ride home from the club that you got absolutely wasted at, you call your best friend Tina — or at least you thought you did.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +70 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Toto groaned as his phone rang, his fingers quickly going through his messy hair before he picked it up,

“Hello? Who’s this?“ obviously he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID at almost two a.m on a Friday night.

To his surprise, you were the person on the other line, sounding definitely not sober.

“Heyyy Tina!“ you sounded rather excited, “I’m at this-”

“Y/n?“ Toto spoke up again as soon as he realised its you, one of his best students in his German lecture.

You quickly stopped speaking, staying silent for a few seconds before you loudly gulped, “yes”you replied carefully, still not understanding who you’re actually talking to.

Toto sat up in his bed with a sigh that sounded almost as if he was disappointed, “You're not speaking to Tina, do you know who you just called at two-”

You stared giggling, “have you started taking some kind of testosterone pills? You sound so manly!“ you found it hilarious.

Toto briefly rolled his eyes, “I’m not Tina, y/n-”

“Can't you just… please — pretty please pick me up?“ you whined almost desperately, feeling tired and exhausted from all the partying with your other friends.

Your German professor scoffed quietly before he hoped out of his bed and quickly threw some pair of black trousers on, swiftly pairing it with a white shirt.

“Where are you exactly?“ he asked demandingly.

You looked tipsily around, stumbling a bit before you told him the name of the club that you’re standing in front of.

Toto nodded to himself before he grabbed his car keys and got into his expensive car, “stay on the line with me, yeah? Don't hang up,“ the Austrian said into the speaker before he put it into his lap and drove off.

And your smart ass only nodded, but of course he couldn’t see that.

Toto stepped on the gas, “hello? Did you hang up? I’ve told her-”

“I’m here!“ you quickly said as if you were in the middle of attendance in university, making him release a quick breath of relief.

You still didn’t understand who you were actually talking to, you really thought it was just your friend Tina playing with you, making her voice deeper and adding an Austrian accent.

Yeah, you were pretty drunk.

The Austrian sighed loudly, making you furrow your brows on the other line before you spoke up again,

“I’m cold,“ you mumbled into the speaker, hugging your figure in your black dress.

Toto glanced down at his phone before he put his eyes back on the road ahead of him, “I have a jacket in my car,“ he replied quietly in a deep tone.

After five more minutes he quickly ended the call and parked a few feet away from the entrance of the club where you were now lazily leaning against a lamppost, not even noticing how the call ended until you talked into the speaker and realised that the person on the other line wasn’t even there anymore.

You sighed heavily before you saw how your German professor approached you with quick steps and a big jacket in his hand.

And to his surprise, you furrowed your brows and almost gasped loudly.

“Professor?“ you gulped and tried your best to stand up straighter, trying to look more approachable even though you both knew that you looked like a mess.

Toto sighed and handed you the jacket which you grabbed with still widened eyes.

“Who did you expect? Tina? You called me… and now I’m gonna get you home safely because you clearly drank too much,“ he almost scoffed like a frustrated dad.

While you still stared up at him, Toto decided to take matters into his own hands and helped you into his jacket before he quickly zipped it up, “you should feel warmer in a bit,“ your professor took a step back again, looking down at you with a tired but caring gaze.

You gulped nervously and nodded, “thanks,” you whispered and hugged your figure again.

You also stumbled a bit, accidentally tripping over your own feet and falling literally right into Toto’s arms, quickly holding onto them to steady yourself.

Toto scoffed again, “be careful, god please,” he mumbled to you but he wasn’t even sure if you were able to understand what he was saying.

He cleared his throat as he gently held you by your arms, trying his best to not touch you too much or somewhere where it was too inappropriate but he was convinced that this line was already crossed at this point,

“Let’s walk to the car, yeah? I’ll help you,“ he said in a deep and quiet tone, already guiding you towards his Mercedes.

After a few wobbly steps and tiny scoffs from your professor, you finally reached his car and hopped into it, getting comfortable on the expansive and rich leather seats.

As Toto got into the car, he noticed how you looked around the interior of his Mercedes, eyes wide and slightly glassy from the cold and probably also from the alcohol.

You clutched on to his jacket, not having the balls to look at him right now, feeling embarrassed,

“seatbelt, please,“ he demanded in a soft tone.

You glanced at him, “oh sorry,“ you apologised quickly before you put the seatbelt on.

———

As you arrived at your small flat, you felt a sense of relief, you’ve been missing your bed a lot.

But not only your bed — his touch as well.

But you could never admit that.

Your German professor swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt before he got out of the car and walked over to your door, opening it slowly before he unbuckled your seatbelt and offered his hand to you.

“C’mon, let’s get you into your bed,“ he mumbled to quietly.

With tired but slightly darker eyes, you placed your smaller hand into his and let him guide you towards your door.

He watched you unlock the door and walk inside, protectively having his hands on your arms as he stood behind you, his fingertips barely touching his jacket.

The two of you slowly walked inside, Toto scanning your flat for a few seconds before he was forced to catch your figure that stumbled awkwardly around.

“Need help with your shoes?“ he asked you as he noticed how you tried to take your heels off.

You sighed but eventually nodded, your unintentional doe eyes looking up at him, making him gulp.

Toto quickly bend down and gently grabbed your ankle, putting your foot onto his thigh before he started to undo the small clip.

You were quite surprised that he could do that with his big fingers.

After a few more seconds, he also removed the second black heel, putting them aside before he set your foot down again and stood back up, easily towering over you.

You slowly took his jacket off and handed it to him, your eyes suddenly meeting his.

Toto cleared his throat, “do you… need anything else?“ he murmured under his breath.

For a few seconds, you just batted your eye lashes at him, your infamous doe eyes driving him wild — just like they always do during his classes.

After another moment, you sighed and looked down, suddenly feeling nothing else than exhaustion and pure shame.

And then you started crying, first your bottom lip wobbled, and then the tears hit your reddened cheeks.

Your professor sighed and immediately brought you into a hug, letting your bury your face in his chest, the tears staining his neat shirt.

“I’m making your shirt go all wet, I’m-” you started but he interrupted you swiftly,

“Don’t be sorry,“ he whispered, his big palm carefully caressing the back of your head, “it’s okay, don’t worry about that now.“

You only gulped and briefly nodded before you continued fisting his shirt and crying into it.

He cleared his throat, “why are you so upset now all of a sudden? Why the tears, hmm?“ he asked you gently.

His one hand went to your wet cheek, cupping it and caressing it with his thumb,

“Talk to me, c’mon…“

You closed your eyes and sniffled quietly, nuzzling more into his chest like a little kitten, “I just…I-I feel so much shame n-now, I feel so embarrassed,“ you released small hiccups.

He looked down at you, gently wiping your tears away, “why? Because you called me instead of your friend? Because I drove you home tonight?”

After a few more tears were shed, you nodded slowly, his words making you realise it all even more.

“Hey,“ he cupped your face woth both hands,

“it’s okay… I didn’t mind that much,“ he continued in a hush tone, “yes, it was unexpected and you interrupted me from my much needed sleep,” he chuckled before he continued,

“But I’m just happy that I got you home safely because you really stumbled around outside of that club like… like I don’t know what!“ he smiled widely but it still sounded almost as if he was scolding you.

You sighed with a tiny grin, “I know… don't remind me professor,“ you mumbled, letting your head fall forward into his chest.

He chuckled deeply, “you can uhm…“ he cleared his throat, “outside of university you can call me Toto.“

You nodded unsurely, “o-okay, thank you Toto,”you whispered, his fingers still gently running along your hair.

“And can you repeat that in German?“

You groaned before you sniffled, “are you serious?“ you grinned up at him.

Toto nodded with a smug smirk, “yes, now thank me again, but this time in my language,” he demanded.

You bit your lip and thought about it for a bit, not sure if the pronunciation would be right but you just gave it a shot and tried your best, “Dankeschön?“ it sounded more like a question.

But as soon as you saw him nod and smile, you knew it was right, “perfect… good girl,“ he whispered, making you gulp as you hid your reddened cheeks in his shirt again, “I am surprised that you even pay attention during my class, always see you staring more at me then at the board,“ your professor mumbled and even thought you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was grinning again.

You sighed tiredly before you released a loud yawn.

Toto glanced down at you, his hand gently running along your back, sending shivers down your spine,

“Are you tired?“ he whispered.

After a few seconds, you nodded,

“Yeah, do you know what time it is?”

He glanced down at his expansive watch, “four in the morning,“ Toto told you quietly, his hand going back to rest on your back.

“Wanna go to bed,“ you mumbled under your breath, slowly stepping away from him.

The Austrian nodded, “okay, yeah…“ he cleared his throat, “I’ll help you into bed, is that okay with you?“

You glanced up at him and slowly nodded,

“please, yeah,“ you slowly walked towards your little bedroom.

It was a typical girly bedroom, posters and pictures on the wall, lots of different hair accessories laying on the desk, makeup wipes that you were too lazy to throw into the bin laying right next to them.

“Sorry for the mess,“ you said in a quiet tone as you noticed your own mess but Toto only chuckled and shook his head,

“Don’t worry, didnt expect anything else from a girl your age,“ he replied, making you turn around and look up at him,

“Excuse me? Did you already imagine what my room looked like?“

At that comment of yours, your professor immediately blushed, gulping for a second before he looked into your eyes, “uh… no, of course not!“

You giggled as he continued, “but that’s just what every teenage girl's room looks like nowadays, right?“ he lightly furrowed his brows and tilted his head.

You nodded, “guess you’re right,“ you murmured before you grabbed your pyjamas and walked to the bathroom.

“I’m just gonna change real quick,“ toto already nodded before you disappeared into your small bathroom — but after only a few seconds, you stuck your head through the crack of the door.

“Toto?“ you asked quietly, your dress still hugging your beautiful body.

“Yes?“ he turned around after you caught him inspecting your pictures and decorations on the wall.

You cleared your throat, suddenly seeming a bit nervous, “could you help me… out of the dress? I can’t get it off myself,“ you murmured.

Toto stared at you for a couple of seconds before he nodded, “Uh, yeah of course,“ your professor slowly walked towards you,

“Turn around,“ he whispered and you quickly obeyed and turned around.

In a slow and almost cautious manner, Toto raised his big hands and slowly unzipped your dress, his fingertips running down your back, making you shiver.

“Thank you,“ you mumbled before you quickly walked back into the bathroom to finish changing.

Your professor watched you closely before he sighed and ran his palms over his face, slowly sitting down on your bed, facing the bathroom door.

After a couple of minutes, you finally walked out, your eyes immediately landing on him, “I’m sorry but I don’t think I have anything for you to.. sleep in,“ you gulped.

Toto stared at you before he shook his head, “that’s alright,“ he replied quietly.

You nodded along and walked over to the other side of the bed and slowly plopped down, pulling the covers over you,

“You don’t have to stay the night if you don’t want to, you know..“ you whispered, looking up at his back, his muscles visible through the button up.

The Austrian cleared his throat, “You want me to, don't you?“

In a slow manner, you sat up against the headboard, eyes staying on him the entire time, ”well I wouldn’t mind if you did,“ you admitted nervously.

Your professor smiled briefly before he looked down at the sheets, purposely ignoring your gaze a bit, “get some sleep, yeah? I think you need it, okay?“

You bit your lip before you nodded and scooted down, laying on the bed and nuzzling into your blanket and pillow.

After some time, you slowly scooted closer…

And then Toto removed his big hands from his lap, inviting you in.

You smiled tiredly before you put your head onto his lap, your hands lightly fisting his pants.

“Night,“ you whispered, feeling safe and happy.

Your professor glanced down at you, his fingers running through your hair now, “night, y/n,“ he sighed deeply.