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scuderiahoney · 3 months

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Love Of My Life

Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.

a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content

1. something old

“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”

You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.

So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?

Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.

She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”

She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.

By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?

You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.

Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”

You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.

2. something new

Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.

“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.

You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.

“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”

You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.

Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.

His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.

“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”

He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.

“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”

Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.

“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”

“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.

Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”

He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.

Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.

“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.

“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.

“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.

You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.

“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.

“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.

“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.

She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.

You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.

“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.

“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.

She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.

“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”

You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.

“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”

Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”

3. something borrowed

You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.

He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”

You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.

“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.

A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”

His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.

You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”

He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”

After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.

By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.

You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.

He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.

Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.

4. something blue

Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.

“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.

Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”

“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”

“I have ideas,” he says.

“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”

Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.

You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”

You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.

“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”

You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.

The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.

“Too boring,” he says about one.

“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.

He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”

It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.

“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”

Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.

He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.

“What?” You ask, softly.

“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”

You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.

And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.

You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.

5. and a sixpence in your shoe

You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.

Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.

“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.

You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”

“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.

He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.

“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.

He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”

You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.

“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”

“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.

“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.

Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.

“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”

He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.

“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”

You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.

“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”

“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”

There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.

You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.

“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“

Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”

You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.

You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.

Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”

You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.

The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. Christian, Geri, and GP are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.

You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.

“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”

You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”

She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”

She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.

“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”

“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“

“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”

Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.

“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.

But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.

The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.

He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.

“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”

Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.

“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”

God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.

“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.

When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.

…..

While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.

You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.

You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.

“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”

“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”

He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You're as sweet as strawberry wine

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.

“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.

He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.

…..

When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.

You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.

He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.

You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”

He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”

You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”

You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.

“Should we go dance?” He asks.

You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”

The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.

You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.

By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.

“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.

You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”

He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.

You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.

He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.

When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.

You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.

But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.

“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.

“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.

“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“

“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”

You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”

“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”

You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”

Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“

“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”

“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.

…..

You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.

“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.

“Always,” he’d answered.

You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.

That sounds pretty perfect.

a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷

ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

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nathaslosthershit · 8 months

Text

Off in His Own Little World

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: When two people love each other very much…

Warnings: Talk of baby makin’ and the beginnings of it

A/N: This was originally a Quinn fic but I just realized I already have a Quinn fic about him getting baby fever and his brothers being annoying so I had to change most of it to fit Jack instead.

Jack had taken his girlfriend to his parents house for the holidays. He knew one of his cousins had recently had a baby, what he hadn’t expected was for the baby to be so adorable, for the infant to get so attached to his partner of two years, and for it to mess with his head so much. Seeing her with the baby had changed him. All he could think about now was her with a baby, with his baby.

It had begun to piss her off. Jack was in his own little world so much of the time and he refused to acknowledge the difference in his attitude or explain himself. After a full day of socializing, she was tired and just wanted her boyfriend to stop staring off into the distance.

“Okay what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?” Her harsh words immediately took him out of his daydream. One with her on a boat, at the lake house, with a sleeping baby in her arms. It was his new favorite thing to imagine. He almost went back into his hazy state but was interrupted again by her agitated voice.

“You have been somewhere else for the past three days, Jack! It has been so hard having to do all the socializing because you have been practically catatonic. What is going on? Where are you going?”

She began to get more desperate the longer he stayed silent till he let out a quiet, “I want one.”

“You want what, Jack?”

“A baby”

“...I don’t know what you expect me to do about that”

“I can think of a few things…” “Jack, we are 22 and unmarried. I think the media would lose their mind if you got me pregnant. I mean seriously, they would think you are irresponsible or that I baby trapped you. People are going to start questioning if your priorities are with the team or your family and frankly-” He cuts her off with a kiss. A passionate one. One she knows is just to distract her. One that will definitely lead Jack to getting what he wants if she doesn’t stop it first.

“Jack, I am serious. Why all of a sudden?”

“It's not all of a sudden! I have wanted this for a while. I just- I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what you would say. Yes, I know we are young. Yes, some fans would get mad but fuck them. People will always be mad no matter what I do and there will always be reasons not to do it.”

Now it was her turn to stay silent.

“...do you really want one?”

“More than anything.”

“...Okay”

“Okay? That's it? I mean if you don’t want one then thats not-”

“I want a baby. I want a baby with you. And if you are ready, really ready, then why not.” He kisses her again. Even harder than the first time, if that is even possible.

In what feels like seconds they are on the bed, her hands in his hair as he starts to kiss her lips, her neck, then her stomach. He takes her pants off and goes to kiss her thighs right before he hears someone yelling out-

“Jack! Come on man, Quinn, Dad, and I are gonna play pool and we need another person for pairs. Come down!” Luke screams. This stops Jack for a few seconds before he moves up to kiss you again.

“Jack, he won’t sto-”

“He will if we ignore him.”

“Jack! Get off her and let’s go” His brother yells once more. This, momentarily, stops Jack’s assault on your lips.

“I really do not like him right now.” She says.

“I never do.” He is getting desperate at this point. After years of his brothers ruining shit for him, this is the one moment he begs some higher power to give him peace.

She finally pushes him off her neck to make eye contact.

“Honey, he won’t stop.”

“He will. He has to. And I’m trying to get you pregnant so can you please be quiet and let me work.”

Luckily, Luke seemed to have given up after screaming a few more times. He was pissed at Jack in the morning for ignoring him, but the flustered look on your two faces at breakfast stopped him from bringing it up. And a month later when he found out he was going to be an uncle, he had already forgotten about the whole thing.

Jack didn't. He was still mad.

#jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine

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jjks1ut · 4 months

Text

Crawling Back To You

pairing: toji x reader

summary:after a major argument having you and Toji breakup here you are to get your things from your apartment but he's ready to convince you to stay, you always come crawling back to him anyways.

cw:explicit content edging, cheating, arguing, manipulation, foul language, degrading, pet names, unprotected sex, tit-sucking, fingering, overstimulation, some praise, p in v, heated making out, slight breeding kink

a/n:hi and happy holidays to all my followers, im so sorry for my lack of content for the longest as for a good while I've lost motivation in writing and been so caught up in life. I hope u can come back and enjoy my writing again even if its a bit rusty :)

“You already found another boyfriend?” Toji asks, there’s almost a sneer on his face. “You can’t even handle being single for a month.”

He doesn’t even mean what he’s saying, but he hates seeing you move on. Toji’s self-aware enough to know he’s in the wrong. He wasn’t a good boyfriend. That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to move on, though. Isn’t it obvious he still wants you? Why do you need some other guy? Just come crawling back to him like you always do.

“I’m sorry Toji”, were your only words as you began to pack a suitcase to take all the things you had left in his place.

Deep down inside you really didn't want to leave him but after the last argument you two shared. It had been over something so small, but Tojil continued to reject that he was at fault and it drove you crazy and up the walls of your apartment as you yelled at each other all that night, and when Tojil left to go ‘blow off some steam’ you knew this was the last straw.

So after your breakup you found yourself going to parties, bars, and all kinds of social places while you stayed at your friends place hoping to blow off some steam of your own now without Toji in the picture. So when you found yourself hooking up with a guy or two one of them had finally asked to take things further and make you his lover.

Since then you went straight to dating that new someone to get Toji off your mind and push away your deep down longing. When Toji heard your sudden acceptance and eagerness to leave and move on to someone new it cut him deep.

He doesn’t want you to go. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have you in his life. Not after the way he treated you. But just the idea of you leaving? For another guy? No. He can’t let you go. Not this easily. He can’t let you move on from him. He’s not going down without a fight.

“Wait, please don’t leave babe”,he spoke practically begging you to just hear him out and stay as he went to grab for your wrist. Toji looks up at you, the expression on his face shifting as his expression becomes more sincere. He holds your gaze, making his voice soft.

“Please baby, I know I’ve done a horrible job as your boyfriend these past few years. I took you for granted. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should have. And I regret all of that more than you know”.

He continued as he came closer to you, taking your hands in his own as he began to trail light kisses along them trailing them down until they reached your upper arm bringing out a small moan at your lips bringing a smirk from Toji’s smug grin.

Yet even with the way Toji was making you feel, you felt guilty. Your mind was telling you no, to not put yourself in the same situation you had been in with Toji for so long but your body told you something different as you felt the throbbing of your core as Toji’s ever so hulking form was towering over you. But, to your body’s dismay you followed your mind.

“After everything we’ve been through Toji, I just can’t”, you sighed, pulling your hands away as you went back to packing your things.

As you continue to maneuver around the house getting more of your things each time Toji tries to slow you down or stop you spewing apologies. Even trying to convince you to stay a little longer. Probably just even hear him out but you refuse each time.

Toji’s eyes widened at your refusals, not wanting to let you go so easily. He steps in front of you. "Please. Don't. This time it'll be different. I can fix things, I know I can." He steps closer to her.

"I need you. You can't leave me alone to pick up the pieces." That last sentence comes out just as he intended. He needs you. He needs you to be with him. He can't do this alone.

It’s those first three words that make a small ache form in your heart. Somewhere deep down inside you knew he was lying about trying to fix himself. But, the way he spoke those three words ‘I need you’ made you want to come crawling back but you continued to refuse those feelings.

“It’s no Toji”, you protested as you finished with your bag beginning to make your way to the door with your luggage in hand rolling right beside you. But, what was to happen next you didn’t expect.

As you made your way to the door, Toji wasn’t taking your shit anymore and went to the last thought and resort he had. “Does he make you happy? Does he please you the way I do?”He spoke, leaving you to completely stop in your tracks. It’s a question you never wanted to have to answer when it was coming from Toji.

You had to admit the new guy you were dating was a nice man, a great man even but you knew he could never compare to Toji. From the way his hands would roam over the expanse of your body even outside the bedroom just hoping to get you flustered.

From the way you didn’t even have to ask him and he knew you wanted him. Even needed him to fill the intoxicating throb you felt at your core whenever you two were apart. So that’s exactly why you ran straight to another even after only a month apart hoping to fill that void but to your disappointment it never was.

“What did you say?”,you asked, turning to look at him with a slight eye roll.

“You heard me”, he spoke sternly as he stepped towards you with a slow but almost intimidating pace as he carefully took each step approaching you.

When he finally reached you he slammed the slightly open front door behind you shut, having you jump slightly now backed into the door with his hulking form. At this point you could feel the atmosphere thicken and your skin seem to warm at the sudden closeness Miguel was now bringing at his proximity.

“Toji-“,you try to speak but are soon cut off by his hand covering your mouth, feeling the warmth of skin rise even more. “You didn’t answer my question, y/n”. Toji replied with a smirk forming on his smug face as his other hand brushed some of your hair from your face.

“Now tell me, does he please you the way I do? Make you weak in the knees just at his touch?”, he continues his hands now leave their place on you as he steps back giving you any chance at this point now to leave, to walk right out his home and leave him feeling defeated knowing you’re now not his anymore. But your next words surprise him…

“No he doesn’t, and he never will”,you reply stepping an inch closer as you take his hand into your own.

This now brings a smile on Toji’s face as he steps back towards you placing a hand on the side of your face caressing it with his thumb as he presses a soft kiss against your lips. “That’s a good girl”,he whispers as his kisses begin to trail down your neck leaving you to melt into his arms before carrying you back to his(your shared) bedroom.

Once finally in the room Toji tosses you effortlessly onto the cool mattress where you two spent many heated nights together. That has always been the effect of your disputes. Where he would show how sorry he was through the way he laid you out and used you like his own personal slut.

“Be a good girl for me and strip out those clothes of yours”,he demanded without a second thought. You pulled the sweatshirt of yours over your head and slipped off your pants revealing a lacy bra and panties you had under. “I can’t believe the sight I’m seeing right now”, Toji laughed with an amused look written all over your face.

Just a moment ago you had been eager to leave him but here you were undressed in some sexy underwear as if you came here just to do this with him.

“Now tell me, was this little set for me, or that dumb fuck you’re dating instead of me?”. Toji spoke as he came close to your quivering form to lightly hook his finger at the band of your panties and let go just as fast to hear the quick snap of the material against your skin eliciting a soft mewl from your lips.

In any other circumstance these would be bold words and a straight insult coming from anyone else but from him it just made you need him even more as your thighs clamped together on instinct to hold in the way your core began to leak with arousal.

“Come on, talk to me, pretty girl”, he said, holding your face in his hand to make sure you were looking right at him as his brown eyes bore holes into your skull.

“They just looked nice is all Toji'',you replied, placing your hand on top of his. With your words he smiled, pressing a small kiss on your cheek before he completely pulled off the lingerie, tearing off the bra and doing the same with your panties.

“Toji! That was expensive!”you shouted in protest, now completely bare for his eyes to see as you tried to cover yourself with your hands as heat began to rise on your face, contrasting unfortunately with the cool bed sheets.

“Shut up and just let me pound you into this mattress like the dirty little whore you are sweetheart. Besides we can just buy you a new one once we’re back together just as pretty”,he spoke in an almost cruel tone but his words were filled with sincerity almost hinting at the fact you’ll be coming back to him even with your new boyfriend.

Now with you completely bare in front of Toji everything was open and ready for him to access. So to start the night off he continued to kiss you like he did earlier now trailing his kisses from your neck down to your collarbone until it reached your soft mounds as he took one in his mouth flicking his tongue against the erect nipple and doing the same on the other side but with his finger.

“Toji~”, you moaned in ecstasy at the way his tongue ran circles along the tips, having your whole body quiver beneath his touch already clawing at his back for leverage.

“Fuck I missed this feeling baby, the way you feel under my touch. Tell me, does that new boyfriend of yours make you feel like this?”he whispered as he ran a finger along your silk folds in sensual and long strokes as he watched the way you gasped and trembled at the feeling.

“Tojil..I-”, you began to speak but all that came out was a whimper of yours as you felt him push in another finger into your seeping wet heat. “Speak up, pretty thing, I want to hear what you have to say about the bastard. The one that I know could never make you feel the way I do”. He continued as one finger ran circles around your clit as two others of his thrusted inside your puffy folds.

With one swift motion he began to pump his fingers inside separating your folds apart with two fingers of his. Just one of his fingers felt like two, almost three of your own.

“Just shut up already, Toji.” You whined as his pace increased his hands working in tandem with the way your hips thrusted against his fingers hoping to get the best out of the feeling his fingers had you under.

With each thrust all you could think of was Toji and how well he did you, even if it was just his bare hands he knew each and every spot that would have you squirm.

So as his fingers continued their tantalizing pace inside you, it was only a few seconds until your orgasm washed over you causing your back to arch and mouth to fall open in a silent scream, and no matter if you wanted to deny it or not all that could be heard was you screaming Toji’s name as you left your high.

“I knew you missed me”, he smirked as he could already feel the ache from the forming dent in his pants. “You think your ready for what you’ve been missing out on the most'' he smirks as you can already hear the unzipping of his jeans and as he lifts up his shirt showing off his toned pecs he had always been running to the gym to make even bigger and bulky.

But what really had your eyes widening and mouth watering was the dent in his boxers from his member hidden within his drawers. “You think you can take all of me? Or you've gotten used to that other guy’s micro shit”, Toji teased as he slipped off his boxers, slapping his member against your walls as he let it slide up and down your soaked lips watching the way your pussy seemed to puff up at his member against it.

“Look at you, I haven’t even put it in yet and you're soaking wet practically begging me to put it in”, he continued to tease as he took your lips into his own as he muffled your whiny moans with his tongue sucking in your rambling words of release and for him to already use you already which he obliged happily. “You asked for it pretty thing”

Your breath caught, the unexpected contact of his member sending a shiver down your spine. You met his eyes, finding a silver of vulnerability in his usually cheeky behavior as he let out a breathy groan upon entering your soaking cunt. For a moment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension as he let himself take the final push inside you.

“You good sweetheart? You think you can keep going?”, he spoke softly the first time he generally spoke words of comfort without any backhand talk as he caressed his hand along the side of your cheek his thumb running small circles there.

But, once you nodded in consent his fat dribbling tip finally seeped inside your slick walls. Almost instantly your thighs spread unconsciously for his long legs to take place in between them, an arm snaking from below your side to hold onto your hips as he kept a steady pace slipping in out of your hole that was clenching at the large size stretching your walls.

You feel like a fucking toy under him, just taking all of him at once as he pleased but you wouldn’t deny in the slightest you took in every last bit of his cock as you could hear every noise that was coming from the two of you. From your breathy moans of desperation begging for more of him, to his grunts and groans as you dragged your fingernails along his back gasping from each time his cock would hit that sweet spot inside of you.

The feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix left your body to writhe and squirm. Yet your haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix.

And no matter how badly you want to last longer for him and not come so early you can already feel your brain turning into mush from the relentless ruts against your puffy wet lips.

“Toji~, Please I’m gonna come~” , are your last words as you feel your eyes roll into the back of your lids as tears streamed down your cheeks and drool falling past your lips running down your chest but Toji continued his onslaught even with his precise hits to your canal of nerves.

“You just feel so good princess, let me come inside you first.”, he whispered as his finger slipped between your thighs playing with your clit as he watched the way another wash of release was already on your face. “You gonna let me come in this pretty cunt of yours? Let me be yours instead of that stupid bastard?” Toji mumbled into your ear as he grabbed you by the chin forcing you to stare into those green eyes.

The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? So without a second thought you obliged as you were practically rutting against his thrusts as you watched the way his cock would make its way in pushing the mix of slick and previous orgasms back inside you.

With one final shared moan between you both you felt his hot seed slip inside your walls filling you to the brim. “Fuck I can’t wait to see you with my baby”, Toji sighed with one final breath before falling against the now warm sheets as he pulled you in close.

Later that night, you would wake up to go use the bathroom with Toji dead asleep knocked out with the occasional snoring from the bigger man. But, even with this clear chance to sneak out and leave you had no intention to. Just like he said you would, you came crawling back to him like you always do.

As you pulled out your phone while on the toilet you were met with over 20+ messages from the guy you had been talking to in your time apart from Toji and when you opened the messages you were met with an interesting sight.

There you were sprawled out on the sheets you had just been on with Toji as a video played of your moaning and drooling face crying Toji’s name as he practically made you his bitch on screen ;).

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk toji

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deltaharrington · 1 year

Text

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY PT. 1 [SEASON 3 SPOILERS]

PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Female!Kook!Reader

WARNINGS: SEASON 3 SPOILERS AHEAD, doubt, social class degradation.

SUMMARY: JJ is in love with the reader but she’s just like Sarah; a Kook out of her element.

When you arrived back in the OBX with the Pogues, you weren’t expecting things to go back to normal.

For starters, your parents had moved back upstate to the main house, leaving the beach house they owned empty. You were heartbroken, but too angry at them to even call and tell them you were alright.

You split from the group with Sarah, needing to go home to get some fresh clothes. Halfway there you were reminded that a certain blonde didn’t have anyone to go home to either.

JJ Maybank.

At that thought, you made your way back to the cut and to JJ’s house, where he was sitting by his bike.

“Come stay at my house” You spoke and he looked shocked at bow blunt you were with him.

You and JJ met through Sarah and became almost instant friends. JJ was a bit wary of you at first due to your Kook status, but after a while, he warmed up.

JJ had always been jealous of how carefree you seemed. Even though you had a family and a future, you didn’t care to help the Pogues.

That made him angry sometimes.

A few times he had expressed his anger, either lashing out and yelling at you, or releasing his anger on inanimate objects. JJ should have scared you off.

But he didn’t.

You understood his pain. You understood his jealousy. You understood him. More than he believed to be true.

“What? Y/n, I’m okay here I don’t need-“ He started to protest but you cut him off, taking a step closer to him.

“We both don’t have anyone right now…please J” You said and JJ felt his heart tug. Your parents had left you?

JJ nodded his head and moved to get on his bike, leaving you a bit confused. He turned back to look at you with a smirk on his face.

“Get on, pretty girl” He said “You didn’t think we’d walk did you?” He added and you laughed, hopping on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around his lower torso.

“To Figure 8 we go” JJ said and revved the bike up, on his way to your house.

How an argument started between you both was a mystery to you. As soon as you walked in, JJ’s jealousy of the Kook lifestyle overrode his thoughts and he blurted out things he shouldn’t have.

At that, you fought back.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” You said to the blonde, who was facing you with anger and hurt in his eyes.

“I’m the asshole? Says the goddamn Kook!” JJ countered and hurt flashed in your eyes, making him regret even calling you a Kook.

“I didn’t choose this, JJ.” you said calmly and he nodded his head apologetically.

“I didn’t mean that…m’sorry.” JJ said and you sighed, nodding understandingly.

“You can shower here, do whatever you want” You said, and made your way towards your room. You didn’t realize JJ had followed you.

You peeled your shirt off your back as soon as you got into the bathroom, revealing cuts and bruises on your back. You were about to untie your bikini when a soft hand touched your shoulder.

You jumped with a gasp as JJ moved to look at your wounds.

“Did Singh’s men do this?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“When we ran before we caught two of them, one knocked me down and he just kept hitting me over and over and over…” You trailed off and JJ looked hurt himself.

“Y/n..” JJ said as tear welled in your eyes. He held his arms open and you fell into his embrace, letting out the emotions you were feeling.

It felt good to have someone there. Especially JJ.

“Thank you, JayJ” You said and he hummed in response, looking down at you, already looking at him.

You both leaned in at the same time, emotions overwhelming you. JJ ghosted his lips over yours before he finally kissed you.

You weren’t expecting him to actually give in, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer as your lips moved in sync.

Before anything more could happen, JJ pulled away, a frown on his face. This confused you and you were about to say something when he cut you off.

“We can’t” He started “What are we doing?” JJ finished and you were hurt, but you didn’t show it.

“Yeah- I’m sorry” You whispered and he nodded, apologizing as well.

“I need to shower, so…I’ll see you in a bit?” You said and he nodded his head, leaving you alone in your bathroom.

What the hell just happened?

“JJ?” You questioned after finally getting yourself ready. You wore a bikini top and some shorts, expecting to go out eventually.

The blonde looked up from his spot on your couch. You were perched at the top of your staircase.

He looked good.

He wore a green shirt and a blue hat with white accents.

“Want to go to the Chateau?” You asked the blonde and he nodded his head, moving to grab all his stuff.

“J, you can stay here.” You said to him and he shook his head “Please, I don’t want to be alone”

JJ looked like he was debating with himself before he finally nodded, putting his stuff back.

“Let’s go see the others” You said and began to walk towards the door.

JJ followed you like a lost puppy, not knowing where things stood between you two.

“Fuck” He said to himself, shaking his head.

TO BE CONTINUED…

#outer banks #x y/n #obx netflix #outer banks x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #rafe cameron #john b x reader #john booker routledge

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Note

idea! you and Alessia meeting in Ibiza and she’s got the hots for you but you play hard to get? but a cute happy ending where they eventually get together

such a low quality pic but she looks so 😮‍💨🤩 criminal we didn’t get more Ibiza content

bodyslammer II a.russo

alessia was dancing like a mad woman beside lois in the poolside beach club, her carefree good mood fueled by many cocktails and a lack of impending stress now that she had finally secured a new contract. no longer needing to stress over what her future career in football would look like.

it had been years since she had been able to take a proper break and go on holiday, and to do it with the girls she grew up playing football with and hardly ever got to see all together only made it all the more enjoyable and easy for her to let loose.

she’d made herself a promise to stay off social media as much as possible during the trip away.

with her transfer not yet announced she knew the world would continue to spread rumours and speculate over every little thing, and alessia was determined to enjoy the week off in ibiza in ignorant bliss before returning to reality.

“less i’m gonna grab another one! you good?” lois yelled to her, cupping her hand around her ear due to deafening house music pumping around them. “yeah i’m still going!” alessia confirmed, yelling back and holding up her drink she’d only taken a few sips out of, the shorter girl beside her sending her a toothy grin and thumbs up before melting away into the crowd.

looking around and spotting the rest of their group not too far away alessia started to make her way over there, mumbling apologies as she elbowed her way through the throng of drunken party goers.

she had almost made it to her friends when she felt someone slam into her back, sending her hurtling forward and meaning her own body smacked into someone else’s, her drink going all over them as alessias eyes widened.

she opened her mouth to immediately ramble out a hasty apology but as the girl she’d just accidentally swilled turned around alessia seemingly went mute, apology drying up on her tongue before she could make it.

the girl was gorgeous, and it had alessia feeling light headed in a way she knew wasn’t just the alcohol currently pumping through her.

“i am so so sorry!” the blonde finally managed to spit out, the mystery girl simply grinning at her. “don’t be. i’d never wear anything here i didn’t expect to be covered in some sort of liquid, its like a zoo in there!” she laughed nodding behind alessia to the thickening crowd of sweaty bodies building behind her.

“you’re telling me, though i think whoever just rammed me might have actually realigned my spine?” alessia joked, stomach fluttering as she was rewarded with a loud bout of laughter from the girl in front of her.

“sounds like you should go thank them! chiropractors don’t come cheap you know.” the girl teased, her nose scrunching up as she grinned and alessia once more swooned.

“can i buy you another drink?” the blonde moved a little closer due to the noise and offered sincerely. “you’re offering to get me a drink when you just spilled yours?” you asked with an amused smile, alessia’s cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as she nodded none the less.

“you’re cute. i should go find my friends before one of them disappears in there, once calvin harris starts later i fear i may not ever be able to get them back.” you’d grinned, and before alessia could even say another word you’d pressed a kiss to her cheek and you were gone, leaving the blonde tenderly touching her face which burned where your lips had just been.

with a deflated huff she dumped her now empty cup onto a nearby table and continued on her way to find her friends, throwing herself down onto a sun lounge.

“woah now! we’re in ibiza baby, why the long face?” anna asked as she sat down beside the blonde. “i bumped into a cute girl, spilled my drink all over her and didn’t even get her name before she dissapeared!” alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before flicking her sunglasses off the top of her head and sliding them onto the bridge of her nose.

“i’ll say it again we’re in ibiza less! there’s loads of fit people around, go find someone else to dance and flirt with!” anna shouted, handing the blonde her drink to finish off and running away after taylor who snatched her sunglasses off her head.

sculling the last few mouthfuls of the lukewarm tequila alessia winced at the alcohol burning it’s way down her throat before deciding to heed anna’s words.

she grabbed lois’s hand as her friend returned, dragging them both back onto the dance floor.

but hard as she tried to dance and drink the afternoon away to forget you, you were a thought that consistently lingered in the back of alessia’s mind.

which is why when she heard someone call out her name and quickly turned, knocking into someone who stood a lot closer than she had bargained, alessias hands quickly steadying them as they slipped, a smile tugged at her lips seeing she had once again bumped into you, literally.

“i’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose now!” you teased, alessia instantly noticing you’d ditched the top she’d spilled her drink all over last time and your top half was now only just covered by a bright green bikini. it took all of her willpower to focus her eyes on you and not your partially exposed chest.

“no i think this time’s on you!” alessia grinned, her left hand resting on your waist where she’d grabbed at you to stop you from falling over. “alessia.” the blonde removed her hand from your side and held it out with a beaming white toothed smile as she introduced herself.

“then consider us even!” you winked, cheekily snatching her drink from her right hand and once again melting away into the crowd.

“hey! you pinch my drink and i don’t even get to know your name?” alessia didn’t let you get away so easily this time, shouldering her way over to you and slinging an arm lazily around your waist to stop you from running away again.

“i believe in fate alessia, so let’s see if this happens again then and maybe you can get my name if you’re lucky.” you shamelessly flirted, sending her one more wink and again kissing her cheek before charging off after your friends into the crowd.

“unbelievable.” alessia threw her head back with a groan before hands fell to her shoulders and her friends surrounded her, dragging her away with them as the sun began to set, bathing the cluster of drunken sweaty bodies below in a golden orange glow.

deciding that it clearly wasn’t meant to be, alessia didn’t even know your name let alone if you were into girls, she forced you once again to the back of her mind, throwing down shots and cheering loudly as they announced calvin harris.

“let’s go!” hands intertwined with hers as her group pushed in closer toward the stage, alessia almost tripping over her own feet she was tugged aggressively into the crowd, though she waved it off with a tipsy laugh as she hugged her friends and whooped loudly as the familiar bass started to boom beneath their feet.

the set was halfway through when alessia once again spotted you, huddled a few feet away inbetween a group of girls and throwing your head back with a laugh as one of them poked at you, twirling you around and forcing alessia ignored the weird jealous clenching of her stomach at the sight.

she heard her friends yell out for her as she began to break away from them, fueled by tequila shots and liquid confidence she shrugged off their hands and made a beeline toward you.

unbeknownst to alessia you’d already spotted her a few moments earlier, yelling in your friends ear that the girl you’d been flirting with before had indeed found you again like you hoped.

which was why it came as no surprise to you when your best friend twirled you around, “accidentally” shoving you backwards and sending your body hurtling into alessia’s whose hands again grabbed protectively at your hips to stop you from taking the two of you down onto the ground.

“we simply have to stop meeting like this.” you grinned, your friend winking at you from behind the blonde and holding her drink up in a silent cheers before turning away back to your group.

“third time seems the charm then, i’m alessia.” the taller girl wasted no time introducing herself again, knowing it meant you would need to finally reveal your own name.

“so you already said.” you teased, purposefully not giving in to what you knew she was after and watching the girl in front of you shake her head with a knowing smirk.

“it’s not nice to lie, i believe you said if this happened again i’d finally get your name.” alessias body pressed in closer to yours, her hand moving to sit at the small of your back as your own stomach now fluttered.

“I said if you were lucky!”

“well i’m certainly feeling lucky. if i do get your name then maybe you’ll be forgiven for stealing two drinks from me.”

“stealing two drinks? i think you’ll find i’m the one whose still owed an apology bodyslammer!”

“give me your name and maybe you’ll get a third drink and an apology.” alessia bargained, tilting her head with a sly grin as you shook your own in amusement.

“y/n.” you finally revealed, someone knocking into you from behind meaning you were thrust even closer into alessia, both of you now chest to chest as you both shared a smile, clearly not minding.

“come on then bodyslammer.” you grabbed her hand tugging her with you as alessia laughed at her apparent new nickname, the music getting louder and louder as pushed deeper into the crowd.

alessia tensed in surprise as you stopped and grabbed her hands, placing them on you as you started to dance, purposefully pressing yourself into her.

recovering from the brief shock the blonde wasted no time in pulling your body tightly into hers, the two of you grinding against one another to the beat, surrounded by hundreds of drunken party goers all doing the same.

by the third song you’d turned so the two of you were now dancing face to face and alessia couldn’t help but find her eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds, a habit which didn’t go unnoticed to you as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck.

the two of you now locked eyes and you nodded reassuringly as the taller girl leant down but paused briefly, craning your neck to meet her halfway, both of your stomachs doing backflips as your lips met.

neither one of you sober it didn’t take long until the kiss became a little sloppy, alessia ramming her tongue down your throat as you held back a moan and forced yourself to pull away.

over her shoulder you noticed one of your friends frantically waving toward you, struggling to hold up your best friend who had clearly had too much to drink, signalling they were leaving.

leaning in again you shouted your phone number into the blondes ear, removing her hands from where they’d wandered dangerously low down your body and striding off toward your friends without another word, leaving the striker positively dumbstruck behind you.

“i better get a message bodyslammer, you still owe me that third drink, and an apology!” you turned to call out teasingly toward her, alessias once defeated expression quickly brightening as she scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag.

and it was safe to say you most certainly did get a message, and it was far from the last you saw of the blonde.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #fic recs #woso community #wwc23

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valeriianz · 4 months

Text

Dream is trying to be good. He is out of his house, for starters, attempting to mingle among the crowds. He figures this effort alone is worth at least 10 points on the socialization scale.

He may be wearing black on black as usual, but at least this is his nice pea coat, and his jeans don’t have any rips in them. His hair is even washed (though he hadn’t bothered with a combing, minus 3 points).

It’s New Year’s Eve, he’s standing at one of the few scattered tables around the large space. The bar’s ceiling and walls are lit up in a colorful agglomeration of Christmas lights and twinkling decor, so much that the people around him appear to have pink or blue or orange skin, otherwise the place is dark.

Dream drums his fingers on the tall table’s surface, scanning the crowd and trying not to look too uncomfortable at the DJ’s choice in thumping bass and current rap trends blanketing the ocean of conversation happening all around him.

“Hey, how are you?”

Dream watches as a man walks around him to stand across the table, setting a drink down and smiling in a lazy, drunk way.

Dream just stares.

“Sorry, I saw you standing alone and thought you might want some company.”

The man has to lean forward and yell to be heard over the music and people. Dream is responsive enough to at least lean in as well to catch the stranger’s words.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Dream barely has to raise his voice, thanks to his natural baritone. He’s thankful for that; he hates shouting and to do so just to commit to a conversation would be tribulation.

The man doesn’t seem to catch Dream’s response though, or doesn’t care to. He takes a sip of his drink and tries again, his fingers curling around the pint.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Dream seizes the opportunity to politely turn this man away from him.

“No, thank you. My boyfriend is getting my drink.”

The man’s brows pinch together.

“Where is your boyfriend?”

He says it like it’s a joke. Like he’s caught Dream red-handed. Dream sighs and turns to look at the crowded bar.

“He’s right…” Dream’s eyes desperately scan the scene of chaos at the bar, hoping to find Hob’s familiar head of dark brown hair, his mischievous caramel brown eyes, or even the bomber jacket he wore tonight. But from here, it’s difficult to spot anyone’s face in the crowd. The blinking lights give off strange shadows and everyone is moving, either dancing or stumbling to push through the dense sea of bodies.

He hears a soft laugh from the man across from him and looks over to find him shaking his head, but he’s smiling.

“Look, I don’t mean to come off strong, but someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t be alone on New Year's Eve.”

Any patience left for this man is immediately snuffed out, like water tossed onto a fire.

“I told you, I’m–”

“Waiting for your boyfriend, uh huh.” He grins with his teeth and Dream barely restrains from throwing his head back in annoyance.

If there weren’t a threat of getting lost in the crowd, Dream would abandon his station here and go looking for Hob. But he knows it’s better to stay here and wait as he had been, despite the nuisance still attempting to converse with Dream.

He steps around the table to stand next to Dream, who takes a deliberate step sideways away from him.

“What’s your name?”

Dream ignores him, head now permanently angled towards the bar.

“You know,” he starts up again and Dream eyes flutter shut, praying for patience. “The longer you ignore me, the more persistent I’ll become.”

Dream opens his eyes and levels the man, who is definitely drunk, with an unamused look.

“Even if I weren’t already spoken for, this is a terrible way to receive my affections.”

“He speaks!” The man exclaims and laughs. Dream pinches the bridge of his nose and has officially made the decision to lose his mind at the stranger, when he blessedly feels two familiar strong arms wrap around his waist.

“Sorry that took so long,” Hob speaks directly into Dream’s ear, no need to shout with lips tickling his skin. “I got us two drinks each so we don’t have to deal with that again.”

Dream smiles, unaware of how tense he was as his body relaxes against Hob’s– before it sharpens to a smirk at the utterly baffled expression on the strange man’s face.

Hob’s lips trail up the shell of Dream’s ear, his nose nudging in his hairline as he speaks again, his hot breath warming Dream up from the inside and sparking a sudden and intense feeling of surrender in Hob’s possessive hold.

“Who’s your friend?” And fuck, Dream can hear the control in Hob’s voice. The question is innocent enough, but the way his tone pitches into a growl, low and dangerous, makes Dream’s toes curl.

“I don’t know,” Dream answers simply, one brow arching at the other man, giving him the decency to turn and walk away on his own before Hob can make a show of animalistic ownership that Dream can practically feel radiating off Hob’s self-control.

Thankfully the stranger leaves, which is just as well, though Dream would have rather liked being ravished with an audience.

He turns to face Hob properly, duly noticing the drinks on the table and slips his arms around Hob’s middle, bringing them flush together in what can only be described as a bear hug.

Dream tucks his face under Hob’s jaw– bending his knees a little– and inhaling deeply, the scent of Hob’s cologne grounding him, and exhaling loudly through his mouth and smiling again at Hob’s deep chuckle that rumbles through his own body.

“You good?” Hob asks into Dream’s hair, placing a kiss there.

“Mm…” Dream hums. “I’m great.”

#happy new year!#dreamling #hob x dream #have a little possessive Hob. as a treat #inspired by events that transpired last night #my writing

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cultofdixon · 4 months

Text

I’ll remind you everyday if I have to

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It’s the smallest of things to startle a person, but thankfully you have someone to always make sure you’re okay • ANGST/SFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks

Requested by: Anon

Anything does it

Loud noises

Yelling

Door slams

Motorcycle engines starting

Walkers trying to claw their way in

Loud snoring if the source is unknown

Honestly, if you made a joke about something breathing and it triggering Y/N’s anxiety…most would think that’s true. She may not be outwardly expressive with her anxiety attacks but one knows she’s having one if she’s disappeared for a period of time.

Her infamous hiding spots are under tables. Carl found her in the closet once when they first arrived to Alexandria and the new people were overwhelming so no one really dared to drag her out. Not that anyone would given Daryl is usually the one to take care of these moments but there were situations where Y/N had to be dragged out of the comfort of hiding.

The farm fire

Governor attack 1

Prison outbreak

Governor attack 2

The Claimers

Terminus

The chapel

The hospital

The barn

Y/N got creative a few times with her hiding spots during the periods where they were moving a lot. But now the group resides in Alexandria and after a few days Y/N left the living room closet sticking with Daryl for the most part since he gives her the most comfort. He didn’t like the place but after all they have been through, after what they have been through, he’s willing to bend slightly so that they could possibly make this place their home.

“Are you coming with to the party?” Rick asks Daryl who seems to have never left the porch whenever he stepped outside finding him always there.

“Nah. Well I don’t know” He frowns keeping his gaze to the floor while he chewed away at his thumb. “Y/N going?”

“Nope. She’s staying in.” Rick states making his way down the steps and more over to Carol’s porch that Daryl stood on. “Judith is coming with me later so Y/N will be alone in the house if yea ever wanna check in on her”

“You make it sound like she had another attack” His worry started to eat at him and with no instant reply back, his own words are only confirming it. “Why didn’t—-“

“Because in some way, you’re also not okay here. Some people need space, others need comfort…Y/N is safe in the house and for once, after all these anxiety attacks I’ve witnessed, she asked for space” Rick gave a small smile to Daryl in the sense of there’s been improvement, but that didn’t stop the worry from brewing inside the archer. “Take the opportunity and if you change your mind about the party? Everybody else will be there”

Daryl watches the retired sheriff walk past as he looks over to his home finding Y/N turned away from the window holding herself. For a second he wanted to go on and check on her, but decided to listen to Rick.

Even if listening to him this time brought an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

The party started when the sunset and Daryl found himself watching from outside. He never felt like he fitted in with these types of crowds. The social people. Those who host parties and make charcuterie boards. It was weird how old world this place was.

When he stepped away and started to make his way back to the house Aaron the one who brought them in, stopped him to talk. This talk lead to being invited for dinner then a good thing to come out of this place…a bike frame. He can feel like his old self and make a new bike after losing the other one to the prison collapse.

But right before he left, Daryl stepped into the kitchen hesitantly but catching Eric’s attention.

“Did you need something?”

“If it’s uh…not too much” Daryl usually never has this much trouble, it’s just. Talking to new people.

Eventually Daryl got the leftovers he asked for after finally getting it out of him along with who it’s for. But when he entered the still very empty house, because of the party, he didn’t find Y/N instantly. She didn’t take a room in the Grimes’s residence, Carol offered a room in hers for her. She was in there last he saw her.

He checked everywhere.

The rooms, the kitchen, the garage, even the small areas in the front and back of the house. It should’ve been more obvious to check Carol’s but even when he looked in her place, she wasn’t instantly found. Which brought his anxiety to be vocal.

“Y/N?” He calls out, not receiving an immediate reply back. “Y/N!” He didn’t mean to shout knowing that would scare her but he was getting to an extreme level that will most likely be taken out on one of Deanna’s sons. They weren’t all that welcoming and he noticed how sad that made his partner.

A few more calls and Daryl eventually stopped in the kitchen to put away the plate in the fridge when he heard the sniffling.

“You didn’t hear me call you back?” Her hushed whisper still made it to Daryl’s ears as he quickly rounds the kitchen island to the dinning table crouching to find her sobbing in her curled position.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry” Daryl frowns bringing himself to sit on the floor and scooting up to her watching her uncurl to wrap her arms around his neck. He gently brought his around her waist pulling her into his lap as she wraps her legs around his torso. “I’m usually better at finding yea but this place is too new…”

“We aren’t used to it” Y/N finished while hiding her face in the crook of his neck for a moment.

Daryl held her for as long as she needed even if that lasted til Carol returned a few hours later. She didn’t say anything, only gave a look to the archer that if they needed anything to just call her, before heading upstairs to sleep.

But after a little while longer of being under the table, the two eventually moved out from under it and Daryl kept Y/N close the rest of the night which led them to the room she claimed. Y/N laid on top of Daryl as he gently grazes his fingers against her back in a soothing motion.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“It just…happened” Y/N frowns bringing herself to look at Daryl and his worried expression. “I feel so stupid…”

“You’re not stupid. You’re never stupid for bein’ anxious, sunshine” Daryl gently brushes the hair out of the way of her face watching her sadden expression last. “Sometimes we can’t control how we feel…just be glad yea ain’t quick to anger like some of us”

“You have reasons for your anger. A pen could drop on hard wood flooring and my mind could think someone is breaking in” Y/N laughed at her own problems which Daryl didn’t exactly like but he hasn’t heard her laugh in some time. As she rests her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head holding her a bit tighter.

“You feel safe with me…and our family. Everybody is unsettled in this place and it’ll take time to get used to it. You’re never at fault for your anxiety…I’ll remind yea everyday if I have to”

“Yeah?”

“I promise, sunshine” Daryl kissed her once more, leading her to lift her head and bring herself up so that she could kiss his lips which brought a hum from his chest. “I’ll always keep yea safe, too. From everything”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Y/N smiles bringing her head back to lay on his chest as he held her close with a hint of a smile gracing his features.

“By being you”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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ijustreallylovethem · 1 year

Text

your momma still does

hehe it’s fic time! i love this song recently so i wrote a fic about it because it just screams ellen hughes to me! hope y’all enjoy.

ex!jack hughes x reader, platonic!luke hughes x reader

words: 3,008

masterlist

it had come out of nowhere. it confused you how he had just done a full 180 spin and ended your three year relationship. he had left for a roadie, kissed you goodbye and said he’d miss you, and then came back a completely different person. it wasn’t until three days after the breakup that you found out the reason.

moosey

have you been on socials today?

big sis

haven’t been on my phone much

moosey

can i tell you before you find out yourself?

you stared at the text, wondering what he could possibly know, when his picture popped up on your screen with a facetime. you barely had the energy to talk, your eyes were red and puffy, and you were sure your voice was hoarse from crying, but for some reason you answered. maybe it was intrigue or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t talked to luke since before they left for the roadie and you missed him. when the call connected you could tell he was angry, which just confused you even more.

“hello?”

“hey, y/n, how are you doing?” despite his initial demeanor, luke was caring and comforting, which made you smile a bit.

“not great, obviously.”

“i’m sorry, but i have something i need to tell you and it’s not going to make you feel any better.” your heart was racing at his words.

“what?”

“so i was on instagram and this picture comes up so i click on it, right? jack out in winnipeg.”

“luke, i don’t-“

“y/n. he was with a girl.” you went silent, not even sure if you were breathing or your heart was beating. “i had no clue until i saw the picture. i’m gonna fucking kill him.” you stayed silent, taking in the information. luke just sat there silent as well, not sure what to say and still seething at his brothers actions.

“like… how was he… like kissing her?”

“well it was multiple pictures. in the first they were walking and then going in this building but it was all windows on the front so in the next picture you could see them uh…”

“kissing.”

“yeah.” you felt like your whole world was collapsing around you. sure, he had broken up with you, but now he had cheated on you as well? “i’m sorry, y/n.” your stomach hurt at just the thought of him with someone else.

“no, thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but it was as loud as your voice would go. how long had he been talking to this girl? had he planned to meet with her when he went there?

“do you need anything?” luke asked, but you barely heard him. his voice was distant, but a reminder that he was still on the phone. you hung up, or at least thought you did, before you took off to the bathroom. how many other girls did he have in other cities? everything in your stomach came up, which wasn’t much considering you had holed yourself up in bed the past three days. luke sighed as he heard you, hanging up and calling his mom.

you took your time laying there on the bathroom floor, resting your head on your arms. your head swirled with thoughts and questions, each one making you feel more sick as well as angry. you eventually heard your roommate emily coming home, and knew she’d find your feet sticking out of the bathroom door into the hallway. it was only moments later that you heard her voice outside of the door.

“so i see you’ve moved from your bed.”

“he cheated,” was your only response, but you didn’t say it loud enough for her to hear. she hummed in confusion and you rolled over to your back. “he cheated!” you nearly yelled, sniffling afterward. you hadn’t realized until now that tears had been steadily spilling from your eyes, but now they were turning into full sobs. her face fell as she sat down and pulled you up into a hug, letting you cry on her shoulder again. she rubbed your back as you soaked her shoulder with snot and tears, eventually corralling you back to your bed. she refilled your glass of water to make sure you were hydrated, and then left with the promise of bringing you some food.

you were almost asleep when your phone rang, pulling you back to consciousness. you sighed, wondering who could dare to be calling you when pictures of your boyfriend cheating on you were clearly spread across the internet by now. you picked up the phone and groaned at the brightness, but your eyes focused on the name on the screen. ellen.

“hello?” your voice was raspy from crying and then nearly being asleep.

“y/n.” she sounded relieved to hear your voice, which put you at a weird sort of ease. you weren’t sure why you supposed she would be mad at you, but you realized now that you had. “i am so sorry! luke called and told me everything. jack hadn’t even told me that you two had split! i promise you that i’ll be calling him and giving him a piece of my mind because i know i didn’t raise him to do this.”

“oh, thanks, ellen.” you weren’t quite sure what else to say.

“look, i want you to know that we still care about you. you’ve been a part of our family for so long and i need you to let me know if you need anything.”

“yeah, i will,” you told her, though you weren’t sure that you’d take her up on that offer.

“okay, we’ll it’s getting late and i don’t want to hold you up but keep in touch, alright?”

“of course. bye, ellen.”

“bye, hun.” the phone call ended and you dropped your phone to the mattress, looking up to see emily walking in with a plate of food.

“his mom?” you nodded, sitting up and taking the plate. it looked delicious but you just weren’t hungry. “what did she say?”

“just apologized, asked to keep in touch.” you shrugged. “doubt i will though.”

“yeah, that’s tough.” emily knew how close you were to jacks family due to how close he was to them. you had spent three summers at the lake house with them, as well as various holidays and big games. you had grown to be a big sister to luke considering he lived with jack for a year and a half now. she left you alone to eat but you just set the plate on the nightstand, laying back down and falling asleep.

it was a week later that you got another call. by now the whole world knew about the end of your relationship with jack, you had started to do better and migrated to the couch when you weren’t in class or at work. you were in the middle of an episode of new girl when your phone rang, ellen’s name popping up.

“hello?” you weren’t really sure why you picked it up, but here you were.

“y/n! hi! how are you doing, hun?”

“oh, i’m okay.”

“good! good. um, i just wanted to call and check in on you. i haven’t heard anything from you or even luke but i know it’s probably still a rough time for you.”

“yeah.”

“i just- is it okay if i tell you how much i yelled at jack?” you let out a laugh at her question, and she took that as a sign to continue. “i mean, i really laid into him!” she said with a laugh of her own. “i told him to try and apologize, even though i knew he had fucked up and you wouldn’t take him back after what he did.”

“oh, he um, he hasn’t called or anything.”

“i didn’t think he would,” she mumbled, as if she was saying it more to herself.

“i saw that quinn got a hatty the other night,” you said, trying to change the subject.

“he did! it was in detroit so me and jim were there actually and the whole place went crazy. i thought i might lose my hearing for a minute.” you both laughed, and it was almost like your conversations with her before.

“that’s good! he deserves it.”

“he does, he really does.” it was silent for a moment, and you were about to speak again but she beats you to it. “well, i don’t want to keep you. hopefully you weren’t busy when i called.”

“oh no, it’s no problem!”

“i’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“yeah, talk to you soon.”

after that, it was like clockwork. ellen would call once a week, sometimes twice, always around six o’clock. sometimes you would be busy or working and couldn’t answer, but you’d just apologize during your next call. she never minded, telling you that it was good that you were living your life and having fun. the calls always started with her asking how you were doing, and then you’d talk about things you had heard in the media and news recently. sometimes it was hockey related, sometimes it was about luke or quinn, and sometimes it was other things like new music or the outfits from some award show.

occasionally, the conversation would fall toward jack. when he scored a hatty, when he was chosen to be on the cover of some magazine, when he was once again seen with a girl and the pictures got spread everywhere. ellen tried not to bring it up, but old habits died hard, and you used to spend a lot of time discussing jack. she would always end the conversations about him with apologies, and you always reminded her that it wasn’t her fault.

a month after you had talked to luke last, he was sending you a text and asking you if you could meet for dinner. you hadn’t seen him since before the breakup, and you really missed him, so of course you agreed. he picked you up later that night and you smiled when you climbed into his passenger seat.

“hi lukey. how have you been?”

“pretty good. been playing well.”

“that’s good. i wish i could say that i knew that but-“

“it’s okay. i didn’t think you’d be watching every game after what happened.” you nodded, looking out the window.

“i watch quinn’s sometimes but… watching you is a little harder since it’s not just you.” the car was silent after that, but it didn’t take long for luke to pull up to a small diner. you had brought him here one night that he wasn’t feeling the best about his game, and you knew he needed to get out of his head a bit. so you distracted him by bringing him to the only place you knew was still open at one in the morning. daisy’s diner. once you were in and seated, you both took a quick look over the menu. you ordered your drinks and then when those came out, your food as well, and then settled in.

“can i get the elephant in the room out of the way?” luke asked. you sipped your shake but then nodded. “so back when i told you what happened…” he took a second to find his words, “i confronted jack about all of it. i probably didn’t go about it like i should’ve but i was pissed off so i just really went in on him. he got pissed too and told me it wasn’t any of my business. by the time i talked to him, i had called mom and i guess mom had called him because he started telling me that i had no right to tell her about it and whatever.” he shook his head. “what he did was a dick thing to do though and you didn’t deserve that at all. he’s been mad at me ever since but i’m still mad at him so…” he shrugged.

“awe, lukey. you didn’t have to do all of that for me. your mom told me that she yelled at him pretty bad too.”

“mom talked to you?” he took a sip of his own shake and you nodded.

“yeah. she called me i guess after you called and told her. then she called about a week later. now we’ve been talking once or twice a week.”

“hm. didn’t know that. that’s good though. i should’ve called too, checked in on you.”

“i’ve been okay.” you shrugged. “okay as i can be after getting out of a three year relationship and finding out i’ve been cheated on at least once.” luke gasped.

“you think it was more than once?” you let your eyes fall to the table, shaking your head slightly.

“i don’t know. he never gave me any reason to think he was cheating, even when i was thinking back after we broke up. but i wasn’t with him when he was on the road, who knows what he was doing?”

“okay, you weren’t with him, but i was. he wasn’t usually like that. i actually had to think super hard about when that picture could’ve been taken because he’s almost always with me or dawson or nico when we’re away. it was when we went out after we won and i guess he happened to slip away from everyone. we didn’t even realize he wasn’t there until we were leaving so i called and he said he left early, was already back at the hotel. he was there when i got back so i didn’t really have any reason not to believe him until we got back.” you nodded, trying to blink away the tears that were building on your lash line.

“but that never happened before?” luke shook his head.

“i hate that he did that to you. not only because he’s an asshole and he hurt you, but if i can be a little selfish, i haven’t seen you in a month and i miss you being around all the time.” you laughed slightly, wiping away your tears before they could fall. “seriously! i was trying to text a girl the other day and i didn’t have anyone around to help me come up with what to say.” you laughed more now, and luke smiled.

“did you fumble?”

“massively.”

“awe, it’s okay. i’ll help you next time.” your phone rang and you picked it up, seeing ellen’s name on your screen. “oh, it’s your mom.” luke nodded, letting you know you could answer it.

“i’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.” he was up and out of the booth as you lifted the phone to your ear.

“hey, ellen. how are you?”

“i’m good! you probably didn’t see but luke set a record for longest ice time in the devils franchise.”

“he didn’t tell me that!”

“you’ve still been talking to him?”

“i’m with him right now, actually. we hadn’t talked since before but he asked if we could go to dinner and catch up.”

“oh well don’t let me interrupt! we can talk later?”

“of course! talk to you later.” the call ended just as the waitress set your food on the table and you thanked her. luke came back a moment later and you both dug into your food. “wait!” you chewed your bite and picked up your phone, swiping over to the camera. “pose!” luke rolled his eyes but posed, giving a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t holding his fork. you smiled and placed your phone back down, going back to eating.

“this is so fucking good,” luke said, and you nodded in agreement. only a few moments went by before you spoke up again.

“you know you can call me and talk whenever you want, lukey.” he smiled slightly at you, the best he could with food in his mouth.

“thanks, y/n.” you nodded. “um, i do have something else to tell you.” you looked up at him confused. “i wasn’t sure if i was going to tell you for sure or not but,” luke put his fork down and leaned back, reaching into his pocket, “i searched jacks room the other day because he took something from me but instead of finding it i found this.” your jaw dropped at the box he held out and opened, displaying the prettiest ring you’d ever seen.

“luke…” you didn’t know what to say.

“i just figured you should know.” you nodded.

“just put it back where you found it,” you said quietly. he nodded, slipping the box back into his pocket. it was silent between the two of you for a few minutes before you spoke again, trying to get yourself out of your head. “your mom said you broke a franchise record.”

“oh, yeah.” his cheeks flushed at the attention being put on him.

“good job! i’m proud of you.”

“thanks.”

ellen called again the next week, asking how you were doing and how your dinner with luke was. you could hear a bit of a smile in her voice when she asked about it.

“i saw the picture you posted after. he looked like he actually didn’t mind having his picture taken for once.”

“he definitely rolled his eyes but he posed.” you were a little nervous about the fact that she had seen it, considering the aftermath of posting it. you had captioned the post “my favorite hughes brother” and allegations were immediately flying. people were sending you threats for jumping from jack to luke, with very few coming to your defense. you didn’t pay them any mind though, not until now. you didn’t think you could handle it if ellen thought the same as all of those so-called fans.

“well i, for one, loved the caption.” you smiled at her words, laughing along with her when she giggled. “don’t tell jack i said that though.”

“oh don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl #new jersey devils #Spotify #luke hughes

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lorelaiblair · 30 days

Text

It all started with a phone call. Wednesday swore that modern technology would be the downfall of humanity.

“Wednesday” The boy pleaded.

“Eugene” She countered.

“I haven’t seen you in months, and you’re coming to the city anyway” He explained, for nearly the tenth time.

“I can afford a hotel room”

“I am well aware” Eugene laughed “What kind of a person would I be if I let my sister sleep alone in a hotel, especially when I have an apartment with a guest room barely five miles away from your publisher”

“Don’t imply that I cannot handle myself”

“I know that you can, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you here with me”

“I would be there for quite a while, the editing process for this book is proving to be tedious”

“I’d love to have you, for as long as you want to stay”

“I will arrive Tuesday”

“Really?” Eugene asked, the excitement obvious in his voice. He was met with the dial tone, the conversation apparently over.

Two days later, he woke up to his alarm. He showered, brushed his teeth, and was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast when he realized something had changed. He went to make himself some coffee, and there was already half of a fresh pot.

Was someone in his apartment?

He was tired. He was too tired to care all that much. He poured himself a cup and sat back down.

It only took a couple moments for Wednesday to join him in the kitchen.

“Where do you keep your sewing kit?” She asked

“Junk drawer” He told her, pointing despite the fact that she already knew which one it was, despite knowing that she would be angry at its disarray considering she had been the one to organize it for him the last time. She pulled the kit out and tsked at him, before wandering back to her room.

Eugene took a sip of his warm drink before blinking in surprise.

“Wednesday?” He yelled

“Yes, Eugene?”

“When did you get here?”

“About two hours ago” She explained, he climbed out of his chair to walk down the hallway and stand in the doorway of her room. She was using his sewing kit to reattach one of Thing’s fingers.

“I would ask how you got in but” He laughed to himself “I’ll get a key made for you on my way home from work”

“Alright”

“What happened to Thing?”

“He fell out of the plane” Wednesday told him.

“What?” Eugene blanched. “What do you mean he fell out of the plane, is he okay?”

Thing wiggled his remaining fingers to tell the boy yes, he was fine.

“Just pulled a few stitches” Wednesday explained “My first meeting with the editor is later today, although I will probably be back before you are”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight” Eugene said, turning to head out “Oh yeah, i’m off tomorrow and a few friends from nevermore are coming over for lunch”

“Eugene” She complained

“You don’t have to socialize, I swear. This door comes with a perfect little lock on it” He grinned, as if it could counter Wednesday’s death glare.

Eugene’s friends had arrived nearly twenty minutes ago, and Wednesday was facing a bit of a conundrum.

She had been up all night writing. Her editor left her with so many notes that she considered stabbing him in the eye with his own red ink pen, which had marked and marked all over Wednesday's first draft.

Not to mention her publisher wanted it all completed in less than a week.

She really had her work cut out for her. Wednesday was completely capable, she would get it done with time to spare, but what she really, really needed was another cup of coffee. Coffee. Coffee, her savior. Coffee, which was in the kitchen. Eugene and his group of very loud friends, sat in the dining room, nothing but a single door separating them.

She would send Thing to do it, but the last time she had asked him he had spilled scalding hot coffee all over himself. Now he refused to help her with the specific conquest.

She exited her room and stalked down the small hallway. Wednesday cursed herself, for knowing what she would be getting into when agreeing to spend the next few months with Eugene, and agreeing nonetheless. This was a torture of her own making.

As Wednesday scooped spoonfuls of coffee into a filter she could hear the people in the other room laughing. She turned the pot on and sat at the small table Eugene kept in his kitchen.

Wednesday’s publisher had gone on and on about how her book needed ‘character’, said that it wasn’t at all personable. She absolutely detested that. The book was full of character, she had been writing about Viper and her adventures for years now, and not once had a person mentioned a ‘lack of character’.

It was frustrating.

Wednesday knew that the publisher was onto something.

Wednesday had been writing Viper for years, and the stories she wrote were becoming almost predictable. She hated it. She absolutely despised it all.

She needed to change something, but she had no idea what that something was.

The door into the kitchen swung open, and Wednesday cursed herself once again. She had no energy for any of the ‘friends’ Eugene had invited over. It didn’t help that her eyes were assaulted the second the girl walked through the door.

Blonde hair with pink and blue ends, and an entire pink ensemble. Brilliant blue eyes, a shiny and slightly too sharp to be human smile.

“Uh, hi?” The bright girl asked, a sheepish smile on her pretty face.

Wednesday raised her eyebrows at the girl.

“Who are you?” She asked, turning to look back into the dinning room as if making sure she didn’t accidentally step into somebody else’s apartment. Wednesday leaned back in her chair, watching her.

The girl’s blue eyes met Wednesday’s again.

Wednesday Addams needed to change something, in her book and in her life, and she knew now what that thing was.

#wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday is soft for enid #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday and enid #wednesday fanfic #wednesday au #netflix wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday show #enid and wednesday #eniday #eugene ottinger

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Text

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 2

I forgot to mention, the chapter titles/series name comes from the song, “the grudge.” I’d highly recommend listening to it at least once to get the feel I was going for in this fic, or at least what influenced parts of it.

table of contents try to be tough

It’s raining, not completely unusual for early August, and it feels like a reset. The air smells clean and fresh, and you know that it’s going to be a slow workday. You pull out your computer and check up on your online orders and update some posts on social media. You’re gaining serious traction, with reposts and likes from some American celebrities. Shit, with the way things are going, you could sell your flat and buy an actual house.

The grudge you hold against Jamie doesn’t seem so huge at the moment. It’s still there, but it no longer feels as though he pulled the rug out from under your feet. For the first time, you’re allowed to think about other things than the struggle he left you with. For example, why did he leave you in the first place? You hadn’t considered about it since cutting up everything he ever gave you, too busy with the all-consuming thought how will I survive?

It hurts, hurts much more than you think it still should.

The two of you grew up together in the same council estate, right next to each other. You terrorized the neighbors while your mothers discussed money and shared food and scrounged together what they could to support both of you.

When you got older and he was scouted for footie and headed for the academy, you still called him almost every day. He’d listened when you cried about your mum and watched her fade away right in front of you.

He’d gotten leave and come home for her funeral, and helped you pack everything up to either sell or to move next door with Georgie.

Jamie had been there for every part of your life, just as you’d been there for him when his dad came around, or he got yelled at by his teachers.

He knew you, knew how much it meant that he stayed. Knew how much the support meant, and the way you both had clawed your way to get at least close to the top.

This plagues you as you wrap pickup orders for the day and place them in their spots behind the counter.

You’re coming to the conclusion that he did it on purpose, that he must have known exactly what he was doing and somehow decided you deserved it, when a customer comes in out of the rain.

“Morning!” you say. “I have your order all ready for you. And it’s all paid for, so nothing else is needed on your end.”

Keeley says “Thanks,” with far less energy than she showed the other day with Jamie.

You ask, “You alright?” before you can stop yourself.

She huffs out half a laugh. “Yeah, fucking great. Life’s just peachy at the moment, as I’m sure you’ve read in The Sun.”

You hadn’t, but you’ve a good guess what it has to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say as she takes the earrings.

She just laughs again, short and grating. “Yeah. Y’know, I’ve been on all your socials. Read your website about empowering yourself and all that. Part of the reason why I wanted to come here, actually, y’know, fucking… girls supporting girls.”

You nod, unsure of what to say.

“I’m glad you’re getting the success you deserve, babes. Your bio said you went through a lot of shit to get here. Guess I’m still in my ‘lot of shit,’ part of life, you know? Anyway.” She goes to leave, jewelry tucked safely into her purse.

You think, fuck it.

“Keeley?” you ask hesitantly. She turns back around to face you.

“I just- I’ve been with someone who didn’t value me. Who didn’t hold himself accountable. It didn’t start that way at first, it was a lot of fun, but it ended up hurting me. I haven’t been able to trust anyone like that since, and I don’t want you to end up like me. You don’t have to stay with him. You can have a whole life all on your own, you know?”

Keeley gives you a small smile, says, “Thank you,” and heads out the door.

—

I deserved it.

Those words ring in your head as you walk home. You don’t bother to open your umbrella, opting to let the rain fall as it will in some form of absolution.

I deserved it.

You shut the door to your flat and drop your clothes on the way to the shower. You turn the knob to scalding, and let the suffocating steam fill the bathroom.

I deserved it.

The rain hits the roof with more force as you drink half a bottle of wine in lieu of dinner. It’ll hurt you tomorrow, but you don’t work tomorrow.

I-

No. It’s 3am, and you’re awoken from vivid dreams of your mum and Georgie and Simon, of Keeley, and of fucking Jamie.

No. You didn’t- you don’t deserve it.

“No,” you say aloud. “I know how to swim. I made it.”

With that pronouncement, you pull your blankets tighter around you, slipping easily into a dream where your mum holds you and whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

—

It’s another rainy day in Richmond. The sky is dark and cloudy, and you can hear the sound of drops hitting the pavement as soft music plays in the shop. You haven’t seen Jamie or Keeley in a while, but his face is stuck all over Richmond, just like you predicted.

Every time you see it, you think a calm, fuck you and continue walking. You didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you.

You’re working on an order when the door chimes and Keeley Jones breezes in.

“Hi, welcome back! Jamie buying you more jewelry?”

Keeley grimaces. “Broke up with him a bit ago, actually. Thought a lot about what you said about accountability, then a friend of mine used the exact same word. It’s a little bit shit, but like you said. I can have a whole life all on my own, yeah?”

“Yeah!” you hastily reassure. “I promise you, it’s fucking brill without him. Hard at first, but you have to know your value.”

She grins a little half-grin and places the Keeley earrings on the counter.

That’s not unexpected, people often want to get rid of gifts from their ex, but you do still have a business.

“I’m so sorry about your breakup, but we can’t really do returns. Everything’s custom, so…” you trail off.

“Oh!” Keeley says. “No, I actually came back because I really fucking love these earrings, and I want something else to go with it. What d’you recommend?”

“Oh!” you parrot. “Well, we have necklaces. The charms are the same style, I can make a mockup for you if you give me a minute.” You turn around to pull out some boxes, and hear the door jingle. The air in the room changes ever so slightly and you know without looking who has just stepped in.

Jamie looks back and forth between you and Keeley, like he didn’t expect to see either of you there.

That fucking drowning feeling, the one you worked so hard to get over, comes back in full force.

“Hey,” Jamie says hesitantly, “um, I’ll just-”

He leaves as quick as he came.

Keeley gives you a strange look. “What the fuck?” she laughs. “Was he looking for me? How the fuck did he know where I was?”

You tear your eyes away from the space Jamie just occupied. It’s been what, a month since the first time he came into your shop? Longer? It feels right and wrong somehow, like it’s both at once; you and him, in the same room, just like it’s always been. Like no time has passed.

But time has passed, and more importantly the time for you to respond to Keeley has passed. You’ve been quiet a beat longer than normal, and she catches it. Keeley’s a smart girl, smarter than she’s given credit for. She’s puzzling out all the information she has, and you can practically hear it all bouncing around in her mind.

Something clicks into place. You see it in the way Keeley’s entire expression changes. She claps a hand over her mouth and exclaims, “Oh shit!”

You don’t have a a chance to say anything because she looks at you with horror in her eyes and says, “It was Jamie.”

“What do you mean?” you ask carefully.

Keeley’s still processing. “It was Jamie,” she repeats. “That’s your ex. The one who didn’t hold himself accountable, the one you said cheated on you. Oh my god, I’m the other woman! How could I do that to you?”

Keeley is having an epiphany mixed with a heart attack.

“You didn’t know!” you argue. “You didn’t know, and you never would have done it if you had.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she moans.

You grab her arm. “Keeley. You. Didn’t. Know. It’s been over a year. I’m fine.”

She snaps out of it a little bit, but still looks dazed as she says, “Why the fuck have you been so sweet? You knew exactly who I was.”

You lift a shoulder. “Jamie… he’s like a magnet. I dunno. I get what it’s like when he looks at you, it’s like you can’t believe that someone that wonderful even notices you. And I guess I understand why he dumped me, you know? We’ve known each other since we were kids and it’s fine if you have a regular job, but if you’re a fucking Premier League footballer… probably best to stick with models.”

Keeley walks over to the door and flips the sign to “closed.”

You look at her quizzically, but she just leans against the door and whispers, “I didn’t know you knew each other that long.”

There’s no good response to that statement, so you chew on your lip. For a long moment, you two just stare at each other.

Finally you say, “Okay. Fuck this. We’re going to my flat and we’re going to eat a shit ton of food and get absolutely smashed.”

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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mixsethaddams · 10 months

Text

Some trans Eddie soft Steddie pre-relationship fluff for your Sunday. Modern au, college-aged, no kids, no upside down. Warning for blood and periods. Enjoy.

Blood pooled underneath Eddie where he sat.

His mind was working a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to get out of here.

Everyone else around him seemed blissfully unaware of his predicament. No one knew he was staining Steve Harrington’s mother’s white fucking couch a shiny crimson just by existing on top of it.

Eddie’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t move. Of course not. No one knew. He wasn’t out. He had to leave though, he had to figure out a way to run straight through the door without drawing attention to himself and never come back. And he had to do it fast, too, because if the sticky feeling between his legs was anything to go by, the leak would soon creep out from under him and then everyone would be able to see.

Eddie’s eyes started to sting. How could he have been so stupid? All it would have taken was a quick glance at the calendar but nooooo. He read online that six months of treatments would stop his period so he stopped even marking it. Idiot.

“Hey man, you ok?”

Fuck.

Steve was standing in front of him, looking genuinely concerned.

“I, uh, yeah, just…”

Eddie stuttered as he tried to think of an excuse as to why he was the only one left in the living room when everyone else had long since moved to the kitchen.

Steve’s brow furrowed and his eyes trailed down to the fabric of the seat. His eyebrows raised and nononono fuck no.

“Is that-?”

“Steve I can explain I-“

“Don’t move, okay?” said Steve gently. “Just stay there,”

“What?”

“Everybody out,” Steve yelled, walking back to the kitchen. “Someone broke a vase, no second chances, everybody out!”

Eddie watched as the rest of the party goers quickly vacated the house. Steve’s parents were famous for flying off the handle if something got so much as scratched after Steve had friends over, so no one wanted to hang around to get the blame pinned on them.

People shot glances through the living room door at Eddie as they left. Some laughed, some gave looks of sympathy. They all assumed he was the one who broke the non-existant vase.

When everyone was gone, Steve returned to the living room. He was holding a damp towel in one hand and a pair of shorts in the other. He took a small package out of his pocket and handed it to Eddie.

“Dunno if you can use it though, I know some people don’t like them… Robin leaves a stash here so thats all I have, sorry,”

Eddie stared at the tampon in his hand.

“You can change in the bathroom, I’ll wash your stuff for you,” said Steve, holding out the other items for Eddie to take. “You were planning on staying over with everyone else after the party, right?”

Eddie nodded, dumbfounded and still sitting on the wet seat.

“Cool, there’ll be time for it to dry overnight too then,” said Steve, stepping back so Eddie could stand. “There’s still a ton of pizza in the kitchen. Wanna watch a movie?”

Steve waited expectantly for Eddie to answer, his expression open and light. Eddie wasn’t sure what to do, or say.

“Yeah, uh, I guess?” he said after a pause. “I can just go though, you don’t need to like, do anything for me. I think I ruined your party, right?”

Steve scoffed.

“Ten people who were only here for free beer doesn’t exactly scream best friday night ever,” said Steve. “Eating pizza in peace with a movie sounds way better,”

Eddie clutched the wet towel and shorts. He and Steve were barely friends. Their social circles overlapped in certain places. Met a few times on campus, flirted at the bar, almost kissed one night before Eddie pulled away, too afraid of what might happen if he didn’t.

“We should probably watch it in the other room though,” added Steve, teasing gently.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to… I’ll pay for it to be cleaned I swear,”

Steve waved a hand.

“I’ll tell my parents I had a nosebleed, it’s fine,” said Steve easily. “Go change, I’ll be in the kitchen,”

Eddie hesitated.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” he asked quietly.

Steve just shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” said Steve airily. “I mean it, people get periods, doesn’t bother me. You don’t need to be embarrassed about it,”

Eddie bit his lip, his eyes threatening him with tears again.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, holding in a sob.

“No problem, man,” said Steve with another shrug.

Eddie started to make his way towards the bathroom as Steve returned to the kitchen.

“Oh, Eddie?” called Steve. Eddie turned and seen him standing with his hands in his back pockets. “Is it… Is it cool if I keep flirting with you though?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“You can say no!” Steve hurried to add. “Totally okay if you do, nothing’s changed, pizza and a movie are still like, totally happening, just wanted to ask,”

Eddie couldn’t help but let a small smile break out.

“You can do that,” said Eddie shyly.

“Cool, cool,” said Steve, rocking onto his heels. “I was, hah, I was kind of planning on trying to kiss you tonight too, you know, since we didn’t at the bar that time, but uh, if you don’t want that either then-“

“You can do that too,” said Eddie, cutting him off. “If you’re, you know, cool about… everything…”

Steve’s smile grew wider.

“Cool,” repeated Steve.

#seth writes #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic #trans eddie munson #tw blood #tw periods

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ghostfacd · 11 months

Text

WHEN I GET HOME, I’M GONNA BURY YOU. — LUKE HUGHES

pairing; slytherin!luke x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary; in which luke hughes kills someone for you, but not in the way you would think

genre; fluff, teeny tiny angst but it’s not between luke & reader, hogwarts!au, “hates everybody but you” trope, blackcat bf!luke + golden retriever!gf reader

author’s note; this is the last addition to the slytherin!luke hogwarts series before yn and him graduate !! there will be so much more parts of them after hogwarts so definitely stay tuned for that ^_^ luke is a changed man yall! we love affectionate lukey <3

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

Luke Hughes was a very cold person, there was no doubt in that.

He liked his social circle small, and only really interacted with those who were in Slytherin or in his Quidditch team. It was definitely a shocker when the students had found out that he was dating a Hufflepuff of all people, you.

The boy sat himself down in the common room of Slytherin, his icy gaze fixed on the flickering fire in the room. You walked into the room a bit later, eyes instantly searching for Luke.

You had to go fetch your textbooks and told him to meet you there. As always, he gave a curt nod and went about his way.

"Hi Lukey," you greet him softly, taking a seat beside him. "How was your day?"

Luke glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable.

“It was fine lovie,” he says. He glances towards his two close friends, who were also in Slytherin. They were arguing quietly, hands moving in distress.

Luke had always kept his emotions and display of affection to low in public. It’s not like he was embarrassed of you, he wasn’t, but he didn’t want people to be up in his love life. He liked to love you behind closed doors rather than openly, it was just who Luke Hughes was.

“What’s wrong with them?” You ask, concerned.

“They’re having a disagreement,” Luke watches as Mark sighs sharply, hand coming up to his hair in frustration.

“I don’t get it! Why do you always have a problem with me talking to other girls?!” Mark yells, running his fingers through his hair in a rushed manner.

“Really? You really don’t get it? Fine Mark! Do whatever you want! I don’t care!” Kielle lets out an angry huff as she marches over to where you two are sitting. Luke, being the attentive person he is, already knew what she was coming for. He handed Kielle her bag, letting the girl walk off to cool herself down.

“Idiot,” Luke says to Mark as soon as he comes down to sit next to the two of you.

You shake your hand at your boyfriend, hand coming to hold his. “Lukey, that’s mean.”

“Yeah Lukey, stop being fucking mean,”

Luke was about to jump at his best friend, already annoyed at the fact that he had made Kielle upset.

“Whoa!” Quinn appears out of nowhere, holding his younger brother back. “Guys, no fighting. We’re all friends, remember?”

He turns to look at you, “hey YN, how about you come back another time? Let these boys cool down or something,”

You nod, already feeling overwhelmed by the tension in the room. You kiss Luke on the cheek, something that he slightly flinches at, which makes your raise your eyebrows.

“Bye Lu, I’ll see you later.”

He gives you a curt nod.

When you arrive back at the Hufflepuff Common Room, you had texted Luke right away. He felt bad for letting his emotions take over him, especially right in front of you.

“I don’t even know why YN likes him,” a Slytherin who Luke had not cared enough to know the name of, whispered, “he’s just always so cold, you know? Like yeah, I guess that’s just his personality, but if I were her, I would be sick of it. I need a golden retriever boyfriend, not somebody who always looks like they’d rather be dead than be with me.”

Even though Luke has heard shit being talked about him quite literally all the time—it didn’t make it hurt any less. The last time he let his insecurities get the best of him—you two had broken up. He didn’t want that to happen, not again. He loved you far too much to lose you.

So he pivots. Right into Kielle’s dorm, which, if any Professor had saw, he would’ve gotten in massive trouble for it.

“Why are you here?” She asks. She doesn’t even have to turn around to know that it’s her best friend Luke. Nobody else would walk as quietly as he did, and nobody else would enter without knocking.

“I need help, I guess,” he mutters, letting himself fall face first into the comfort of her silk mattress.

“Alright, go on.”

“I don’t even know what to do Kiels,” Luke groans from beneath the pillow, “I just feel like I could do better for YN, you know? I mean, I literally broke things off before because I was too fucking insecure. And now, the insecurities are getting to me again. I used to not care about what people said about me, but maybe they’re right.”

“Shut up Luke,” Kielle pulls the heartbroken boy over to his side so that she could face him, “don’t you dare talk that way about yourself. Luke, you’re more than enough for YN. Sure, you’re closed off and cold but we can all tell you love her.”

“Thanks Kiels,” he sniffles, taking a sweater from her bed and placing it on himself. “Is this Mark’s sweater?”

“Yeah, I need to return it to him.” The girl sighs, “what an asshole.”

“Can you give me advice at least?”

“Okay,” Kielle sits herself next to him, placing on her own sweatshirt, “just show her you love her I guess? Girls love it when the guy they’re dating isn’t afraid to show them off. I know you don’t really like PDA but it would probably mean the world to her if you showed more affection in front of others.”

Luke nods, taking in the girl’s words fully. It was easy, he thinks. He loved you, so it wouldn’t be hard to display his affection. What was hard was doing it publicly. He rarely kissed you in public; mostly just a bit of hand holding and back hugging. That or cheek kisses.

“But if I.. do PDA.. then I’ll betray my image.” Luke sighs, “my image is very dear to me.”

“You mean the image that makes everybody shit on you?” Kielle laughs, but quickly stops when she sees Luke frustrated, “okay sorry Lu. But really, is your image dearer to you than YN?”

“No,” Luke mutters, “not dearer than YN.”

“There you have it Lu,” the girl wraps her arms around the much taller boy, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Hey, don’t work yourself up over what those dumbasses are saying about you okay? YN loves you, I can see it.”

“Thanks Kiels,” Luke says, pulling away to wrap his arms around Kielle’s shoulder. “I’ll get Mark to apologize. He’s a dick for talking to other girls. It may not look like it, but he’s obsessed with you. He’s just too dumb to realize what he’s doing.”

Kielle shrugs, getting up and going over to sit herself on her desk chair. “Yeah, that’s Estapa for you.”

- -

When Luke Hughes arrives back at his dorm, he knew exactly what he had to do. He had to change, not only for you, but for himself.

There were no more bottling up emotions, no more making you cry or upset, and most definitely no more of being a bad boyfriend.

He was going to bury his old self. It was a decision that he stood by, knowing it meant it will better the relationship for the both of you. Doing it, however, was a lot harder than he had imagined.

“Alright Luke,” he reassures himself, “you’re doing this for your girlfriend. ‘Cause you love her. And you want the best for her.”

The next day, Luke Hughes arrives to class with a bright smile, so bright that it actually scares the shit out of Mark as soon as they make eye contact.

“Holy shit Hughes! Did somebody force you to smile? Blink twice for help!”

“Very funny,” Luke says, pushing the boy back harshly. Mark only laughs, not expecting his best friend to have a smile on his face this early in the morning—or at all, for the matter.

“Hi,” you say shyly as you sat down near your boyfriend. You can’t help but widen your eyes when you see him give you a boyish smile, one that makes your heart flutter inside your chest.

“Hi lovie,” he hesitate for a bit, then intertwines both your hands as he uses his free hand to wrap themselves around your shoulder.

What was going on?

“Now PDA? God Luke, what happened yesterday that made you be a changed man?!” Mark can’t help but holler loudly, quickly stopping when he sees Kielle walk into the room.

“Kiels!” He motions for her to come over, which makes the girl roll her eyes in annoyance.

“You won’t believe it Kiels, Luke is actually smiling, and he’s—he’s wrapping his arms around her shoulder! Publicly!”

“Oh settle down Mark,” Kielle takes a seat next to him, right across from you and Luke. “Glad to see my favorite couple.”

“Thanks Kie,” you reply, blushing tremendously. You hadn’t been this flushed since the day Luke had officially asked you to be his girlfriend.

“I’m guessing you two made up then?” Luke raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, yesterday,” it was now Mark’s turn to wrap his arms around somebody; that somebody being Kielle. He pulls her close to his body, his face plastered into a wide grin. “I was calling you yesterday nonstop to tell you of the news. Why didn’t you pick up?”

“Just had to do a little burying.”

Mark raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” His grin grows even wider.

“Not anyone important,” Luke replies.

The two boys burst out into laughter, while you and Kielle look at each other in amusement.

Boys will be boys. And your boys were extremely interesting, to say the least.

“Alright well, Kiels and I are dating. I decided to apologize and we actually spent the night together yesterday,”

Luke’s lips form a straight line before descending into a small smile.

“Congrats.” He says, “but just so you know Estapa, if Kiels ever comes to me crying, you are so dead.”

“Hey! What if I was the one to come crying to you instead?”

“Then you must’ve done something to Kielle that would’ve made her make you cry.”

“Now that’s just unfair,”

You and Kielle can’t help but giggle quietly at your two boyfriends bickering. You didn’t know where the sudden change in Luke came from, but you were glad he was still your sweet, caring boyfriend.

“I love you,” you whisper to him quietly as you lay on his shoulder.

“I love you more.”

And for the first time publicly, Luke Hughes places a long kiss on your lips, eyes closed as he cherishes the moment.

“Gross!” Mark exclaims, “get a room!”

#slytherin!luke (ghostfacd version)#luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x oc #hughes brothers #Quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #umich hockey #umich blurbs

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brandogenius · 3 months

Note

hellooo :b can we get a oneshot of the reader surprising pheobe on tour after they’ve been apart for months? I feel like it’ll be so sweet :(

of course!!

‼️RPF‼️

Surprises on tour.

Phoebe x reader

Word count: 1,580

the house being empty without phoebes presence was something you hated. no laughter or yelling as phoebe threw flour at you while baking cupcakes. no sounds of phoebe humming tunes to unreleased songs of hers filling the air. it was quiet and empty.

of course, phoebe promised nightly phone calls before both of you went to sleep after her shows. usually for an hour or two, both of you would catch up on your day. phoebe telling you all about what went on backstage, while you rambled on about the gossip you heard in the store.

tonight’s phone call was a bit different. the smile on phoebes face was wide as she listened to you. the connection and service sometimes cutting in and out as the tour has traveled to their new destination.

“where are you?” phoebes asks through the phone. noticing the layout behind you wasn’t the same as the shared bedroom both of you are so familiar with.

“at my friends house. staying while she’s out of town” phoebe nodded “you’re not coming to the show tomorrow?” there was a lace of sadness and disappointment in phoebes voice, ringing throughout the phone. you tried your best to look sad and upset. not wanting to ruin the plan.

“unfortunately.. bad timing baby. i’ll try come to the next show in new york?” you looked up from the phone, glancing down at your suitcase. the hotel was big and spacious. a double bed, for one person tonight- room for a familiar platinum silver woman to join you tomorrow.

“that’s fine” phoebe reassured, bundled up in your hoodie. you rested your head on the hotel pillow, holding the phone above your face. “honey, it is pretty late. you need sleep before the gig tomorrow” you checked the time on the phone. 12:45am.

phoebes laughed. the small dim light from the bunk illuminating her face. the way her eyes scrunched up when laughing made you smile. “ even millions of miles apart, you still are worried about my sleep schedule. rest assured i will be sleeping the minute we end call”

you felt satisfied with the answer as you nodded. “i’ll let you sleep now then baby. you text me when you wake up alright?”

phoebe nodded on the other side, giving a thumbs up.

“i miss you” phoebe frowned, her voice small. you smiled a bit, feeling your heart hurt a bit. “don’t get sappy on me tonight. you’ll be back here in two months.” the older woman looked away for a moment “i suppose so.. just missing those cuddles and late night chats”

“i know you do baby” you chuckled. checking the time again you watched as phoebe moved around in her bunk. moving onto her side as she propped the phone up against the wall.

“go to sleep baby”

getting phoebe to sleep was always a bit of a challenge. as someone who has a shit sleep schedule, she values the free time she has in the night. taking it as a form of alone time to be able to scroll freely on social media without the countdown before she gets her hair done or having to preform on stage.

she knew you were looking out for her but it was different. phoebe was a clingy person especially at night. always loving to hold onto someone or something. extra pillows stuffed into her bunk to hold onto at night and pretend it was you beside her. back at home when not on tour, both of you would stay awake until early hours. talking and rambling about anything. it was phoebes favourite time of the night. you allowing her to come up with topics for both of you to debate on.

is pineapple on pizza allowed or should it be banned?

which is the better hair colour, pink hair or blue?

they were silly little debates that kept both of you awake till sunrise. in each others arms, legs tangled as you were given the role of defending pinapple on pizza to be the best whilst phoebe have herself the role of wanting it to be banned.

it was something that entertained both of you. then there was the more serious, deep conversations. some on the topic of mental health, the world crisis, climate change and politics.

phoebe just liked to hear you talk for hours on end. something about hearing you dive deep into theories and why you believe each star represents someone who was once on this earth, intrigues her. you had a way with how you phrased stuff. an intelligent grasp on words that made phoebe wonder how you could possible say something so poetic about pineapple or stars.

phoebe guesses you were doing a good thing. forcing the blonde to shut off her phone while the buss driver drove overnight to the state for their performance. LA was on their next stop. closest to home and closest to you. there wouldn’t have been time to visit you with the schedule packed with unloading and preparing for the show.

but at least she can be thankful every night. shutting off the phone at a reasonable time, waking up at 6am to get ready for the day. when on a normal day, the two of you would be going to sleep at this time.

shutting off the phone, the silver haired woman grabbed the nearest pillows, hugging them close to her chest as she shut her eyes, waiting for the bus to stop.

you were always considered a morning person. waking up to the sound of the birds chirping always gave you immense joy.

waking up at 9am was a bit later than normal for you. you didn’t have much to do other than get ready and head to the venue. you had it prepared a week in advance. discussing amongst lucy and julien to surprise phoebe on tour.

it has been four months since you last seen your girlfriend. it was needed. you had it schemed out. book a hotel in LA close to the stadium and surprise phoebe backstage.

lucy working with the security to make sure you get in without anyone noticing. she was going to meet you at the venue in an hour so you had time to prepare.

taking a quick shower and putting on some makeup, you made your way to the hotel lobby. booking a taxi to the arena wasn’t that bad. it was a quick ride. you tipped the driver, sending a quick message to lucy.

not long after, lucy makes her out. the brings you into a hug. “it’s been so long” the taller woman announced, breaking away from the hug, slinging a lanyard around your neck. ‘CREW’ was written in big bold letters.

“it’s been too long” you answered, walking with lucy into the venue. lucy herself had a lanyard with ARTIST on it. staff instantly recognising and allowing both of you to enter.

you were nervous. was phoebe going to be mad at you? would she be excited? so many thoughts ran through your brain as lucy lead you down the hallway. staff and crew busied themselves with preparing for the upcoming show tonight.

lucy stopped you outside the dressing room door. “i’ll go in first and you come in after me yeah?” lucy tilted her head, smiling at you. you nodded your head, feeling anxious. “yeah sure-“ you watched as lucy opened the door, slipping into the room.

you quietly snuck in. phoebes back was turned to you as lucy talked to her. julien was sat on the couch, her smile growing wider, eyes flicking between you and phoebe.

julien cleared her throat as lucy looked over phoebes head. “what’s that?” lucy pointed towards your direction, causing phoebe to turn around confused. phoebes eyes landed on you as she dropped the phone that was in her hands.

“holy fuck-“ phoebe wasted no time running full force at you. she jumped into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist as she yelled excitedly. you stumbled back a bit, holding onto her tightly. julien grinning while she sipped her coffee as lucy recorded the surprise on her phone.

phoebe lifted her head up from your neck, attacking your face with kisses. “i thought you weren’t coming?!” she said in between kisses on your cheek, neck, lips and forehead. you kissed phoebe back softly, moving to the couch, phoebe still in your lap.

“well it was a surprise wasn’t it? had it planned for a while, with the help of those two” you gestured to the other two boys. phoebe sighed happily, resting her head back onto your shoulder. “you don’t know how much i missed you”

you ran a hand across her back. “i know honey. but you know what?” your hands found themselves in phoebes hair, twirling some strands around with your finger. phoebe lifts her head up, raising an eyebrow.

“what?”

“i’ll be with you for the rest of the tour. as if you can’t get rid of me now” you missed her on the forehead.

“seriously? like - for real?” she perked up with a grin. “i don’t need to hug pillows anymore i can just cuddle you?” you nodded your head

“fuck- this is the best surprise ever” phoebe laughed, hugging you tighter. you leaned back on the couch, holding onto phoebe for a little while longer before she had to be physically dragged away from you to get her makeup done

#pom writes #phoebe bridgers x reader #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers fanfic #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot #boygenius x reader

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skzimagines · 11 months

Text

Part 2

Characters: Lee know x Female reader.

Genre: Friends to lovers | Angst | Fluff | Smut

Warnings: 18+ Sexual content minors dni | cursing |

Summary: Minho is your best friend. He has been for almost 5 years. Minho never keeps secrets from you, besides the one where he’s madly in love with you. But when your deceiving boyfriend screws you over.. again, he does everything in his power, to win you over.

—————————————————————————————

“So, one question.” He says.

I look at him and him in response.

“Is what you said earlier true?” He asks with a smirk.

“What did I say earlier?” I ask, giving him a confused look.

“About how your life would be better if you were fucking me before him.” He smiles, while biting his lip.

My heart drops. Why did I even say that? Why would those words come out of my mouth. Especially in front of him! I have thought about Minho, as a boyfriend, as a lover. And I love the idea of all of them. But I would never put our friendships at risk and he would never feel the same way about me. I can’t afford to lose him. So I had pushed my feelings for him aside, because he is my best friend and I love him, more than anyone else on this planet.

“Ohh.. yeah, I just said that to piss him off.” I say with a chuckle, hoping that it’s convincing enough for him to believe.

Minhos smile drops. “Oh, okay.” He says with a sigh. “Let’s go in.”

We get back inside and head to my room. We both lay down in my bed and pull out our phones. We lay close to one another as we scroll through social media.

“I can’t believe that fucking loser.” Minho sighs, turning his head to look at me. His nose brushing against mine. The feeling of his face that close, causes a blush to form across my cheeks.

“I-I know.” I stutter back. We stay there, with our noses brushing, for what felt like hours. Just starting into each others eyes. His eyes are beautiful. A dark brown, with black highlight to them, and they are so big. Enhancing how beautiful they are.

“You don’t deserve him y/n.” He whispers. “You don’t deserve the be treated like that. You are so smart and funny a-and beautiful. You’ve got to leave him y/n. Please, for me. Do not go back to him.” He pleads. Looking between your eyes and you lips, that are just a hair apart.

My heart flutters at him calling me beautiful, but I quickly shove those feelings back again. I move my face away, so he doesn’t see my blush. “I don’t know Minho, I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” I sigh, feeling tears well up in my eyes again. “What do you mean?” He asks, sitting up to look at me with shock. “You’re not taking him back!” His voice getting louder by the second. “He can’t come back here y/n!” He rubs his hand through his long hair. Showing me the perfect skin on his forehead, something I don’t see often. He is so beautiful… no y/n stop! “Minho, he lives here. Where is he going to go?” I ask. “Fuck him!” Minho yells. “How can you just let him treat you like this y/n? I don’t understand it.”

By now he’s off of the bed, pacing back and forth through my room. Picking up random things here and there to inspect them before putting them back.

“Minho, I can’t kick him out. I just can’t do that to someone. It doesn’t matter what he’s done to me, I’m not making someone homeless.” I say.

“You’re heart is too big y/n..” he says, looking into my eyes. “But he can’t come back here, he just can’t. I’ll take his shit to him, do you really think he’s not staying with some other girl right now?”

“Why would you say that?” I whisper, the tears finally spilling out and down my cheeks.

“Because you need to hear the truth y/n, I have been here through all of this. Now, I’ve stuck around, pretending everything would be okay for you. But no matter how many times I told you that he’d do this again, over and over and over… you never listened to me. So this time you’re going to listen.”

Minho quickly goes in my closet, tearing all of my ex’s stuff off of the hangers, throwing them in my room. Once he’s gotten them all, he heads to my dresser and does the same thing.

He finally gets a big pile of his shit in the middle of my room. “Open your window.” He says. “What? Why wo-” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off. “Just open the window!”

I jump out of bed and slide my window up. “Happy?” I ask sarcastically. “Very much so.” Minho says with an evil smirk, before he begins throwing all of his stuff out of the window. “Here we go! Now the loser doesn’t have to come back.” Minho says laughing. He continues to throw the rest of his stuff out of the window and shuts it once he’s done.

“Might want to text him and tell him to come pick up his shit.” He says, plopping down on the bed next to you. “Minho you shouldn’t have done that.” I sigh. “And you’re still sticking up for him, why?” He asks. “I don’t know Minho! Okay! I don’t know! Maybe I’m just fucking used to it.” I yell. “Well get un-used to it, because he’s a fucking loser.” Minho says, laying back in the bed. “Whatever.” I sigh. “No, it’s not whatever y/n! Because for the last 2 years you’ve been with that asshole, I have been trying to get you to leave him. He’s no fucking good for you.” He begins to argue again. I’ve had enough arguing. I can’t take it anymore. “Minho, maybe you should go.” I whisper, looking down at my hands.

“What?” He asks, his voice cracking as he says it. “I don’t want to fight, and right now that’s all that’s happening. So maybe you should leave.” I whisper. He lets out a scoff, standing off of the bed and walking to my bedroom door. “You know what your problem is?” He asks. My look up at him. A single tear runs down my face, as I wait for something mean and spiteful to leave his mouth. “Your problem is that, you have someone who fucking loves you, right next to you every single day y/n. Someone who wants to take care of you, kiss you and hold you twenty four seven. I’ve been in love with you for five fucking years, and you haven’t even noticed!” He yells, I swear I see tears forming in his eyes. “But you can see him! You can see him, fucking other chicks behind your back, and still go back to him? Why!” He asks.

After everything he’s just said to me. My brain can’t process it all, I’m stuck in shock just looking at him from my bed. “No answer. Okay.” He whispers, with a sad chuckle. Before turning around and leaving my apartment.

What the fuck just happened…

————————————————————————————

Part 3

Tag list: @yumiblogs @chubbyanarkiss @chansbabygirlsstuff @multeciahucho @leaneverleaves2 @greysweaters-blog

#lee know x reader #lee know #lee Minho #lee know imagine #lee know smut #stray kids #Skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #Bangchan #Changbin #hyunjin #hanjisung #leefelix #Seungmin #jeongin #i.n

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

games, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You don't have a crush on Min Yoongi. You two are just fucking. Yup. You ignore him for two weeks because of Pokémon. Sorry. Twelve days. He's mad about it (and drunk?). Oh, shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; OT6 are nosy so now it's somehow crack???? this always happens idk how; friends-with-benefits; soulmate vibes(?); ft my obsession Pokemon Scarlet / Violet; feels + smut (fem reader, penetrative sex, scratching, m-receiving oral, mutual masturbation, choking); non-idol!AU; switches between your POV and Yoongi's POV

“Yoongi?”

Wow, that was loud and unexpected. Knocked you right out of your very pleasant dream of stuffing your face at a buffet with thick, juicy slices of prime rib, complete with flakes of premium sea salt.

“YOONGI?!”

You could still almost taste it, but, like all dreams, the savory delight slipped away from you rapidly as you groggily blinked and realized you were resembling a croissant folded into this couch.

“You have a crush on Min Yoongi of all people?!”

Similar to the flaky buttery pastry, you had no idea what the fuck was going on. Unlike the product of a baker’s pride, sentient life required you to reorient yourself into humanity, hazily taking note of the MapleStory mushroom-printed blanket draped over you and your empty hands. Your hands had been holding your phone before you passed out. You were obsessed with mobile puzzle games recently. It was nice to have games on the go to occupy yourself instead of, bleh, socializing. It was awesome. When you figured them out too easily though, they made you sleepy.

Anyway, where the hell was your phone?

“Really?! Yoongi-hyung? Oh my gosh, he texted a human being all in his own? Wow!”

That kind of excitement could only be the voice of…

“Come on, guys, hyung’s been better about such things recently. He’s surprisingly sentimental, you know.”

And that sensible voice was none other than…

Someone snorted.

That was Kim Seokjin.

You rubbed your eyes to see a familiar man holding your very expensive Samsung smartphone with your customized Rotom phone case, poking at the screen as if he was his own.

“What kind of illegal activity are you doing over there?” you hummed as you sat up, knowing full well he did not possess access due to the fingerprint scanner. One time you snuck up on him as he tried to snoop on your phone. He had flung it, so this time you calmly stayed on the sofa as your longtime friend on the armchair jumped, thoroughly scaring himself and the lean, tan drink-of-sunshine standing behind him.

“You’re awake!” Seokjin blurted. Tall, gangly if you squinted, absolutely handsome, somehow always dancing on the edge of endearing caretaker and walking disaster, Kim Seokjin threw himself out of the plushy white armchair and shoved your phone into your face accusingly as if you were the one responsible of wrongdoing. His chestnut-brown poofy hair bounced as he relentlessly poked you in the head. “You’re texting Min Yoongi! Is that the one you have a crush on?!”

“Er, technically all hyung asked was when the group was meeting up…” Jung Hoseok squeaked, radiating apologies while Seokjin continued poking you in the head with his free hand. “I tried to tell him not to touch your phone.”

“I’m sure you did,” you replied. “I’m also sure he didn’t listen.”

“Hey. Answer me.”

“Hyung…” The concerned, deep voice was coming from the barstools in the kitchen behind you, in the don’t-annoy-her-that’s-rude-but-also-it's-not-my-place-to-scold-since-I’m-younger tone. Kim Namjoon, who was probably reading a book and drinking tea at the counter. He must have been banished there. The last time he had done the same activities in the living room, he had spilled tea all over Seokjin’s white rug. That had earned him a good yelling.

You glanced at Hoseok’s rueful expression and half-smiled, waving your hand to indicate you weren’t that bothered.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me.”

Kim Seokjin believed he needed to know such information about you because he had been your friend since your accountant mother started dragging you to house calls to a very specific home (mansion) in hopes of child you falling in love with the dashingly handsome son of one of her clients (she told his parents that it was because she couldn’t afford daycare, but even child you knew better). Instead, Seokjin and you became inseparable hopelessly addicted gaming fanatics that could not imagine each other naked without puking.

You did end up becoming inseparable. Just not in the way your mother wanted.

Oops.

“I don’t have a crush on Min Yoongi.”

“Oh yeah?” He said it in a high-pitched, disbelieving tone. You swatted his hand and snatched your phone from him, peering at the message preview. “Why is he texting you then, huh? HUH?”

Your phone vibrated.

Sorry to bother you. I would have texted Seokjin-hyung, but he’s annoying.

“He says you’re annoying.”

“Ex-cuse ME?”

“Here’s the proof.”

“EXCUSE HIM?!”

“What.”

“Let me in. It’s cold out here.”

“What are you doing here?” Kim Taehyung sputtered, obediently opening his apartment door to the slightly shorter, much more imposing figure of Min Yoongi. His long black hair was wild and windblown, puffy black parka zipped all the way up, hood out but useless at the moment. Light denim jeans and black boots crusted with snow. Nothing but his serious, intense demeanor made him imposing. Yoongi carefully kicked off the white ice before stepping in, slowly raising an eyebrow at Taehyung’s askew brown locks and rumpled gray sweat set.

“You’re not leaving like that are you?”

Taehyung frowned. “I’m not, duh. Jimin’s taking ages to use the bathroom. I think he fell in the toilet.”

“Hey! I heard that! Who’s out there?”

“You won’t believe it,” Taehyung shouted back to the disembodied voice coming from inside his apartment. He pushed his hair back from his eyes like he himself couldn’t believe it, revealing his classically handsome sharp features and stunned frown. “It’s Yoongi.”

“YOONGI?!”

The Min Yoongi, of the hour it seemed, rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing back there?” he called to the voice inside from the front hallway, not moving.

“Fixing my hair!” Park Jimin yelled back several decibels louder.

“I’m surprised,” Taehyung said, looking scowling Yoongi up and down like he was some kind of unidentified foreign object. “I thought you weren’t coming. Didn’t you say you were busy?”

“I made myself unbusy,” Yoongi grumbled back, pulling out his phone.

“You don’t make yourself unbusy for no reason.” Taehyung persisted, sticking his face in between Yoongi and his phone, making those cat-like eyes above narrow in annoyance.

“There’s alcohol.”

Taehyung wiggled his dark eyebrows. “I thought you were cutting back.”

Deadpan.

“Life’s shit, man.”

The younger male broke out into his boxy smile and booming laugh, pulling his head of brown curls back to double over. It was the combination of Yoongi’s dead-inside expression and monotone reply that was making Taehyung snort, that and Yoongi’s immediate return to his phone as if nothing was happening. Yoongi still made no move to actually step further into the apartment. He simply continued standing in front of the closed front door, on the welcome mat next to the shoes thrown about because Kim Taehyung couldn’t be neat unless he was impressing someone, and those people were not his best friend Park Jimin and unexpected-guest-but-still-friend Min Yoongi.

“You’re so funny, hyung.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows as he stared at his phone and gave Taehyung absolutely fucking nothing to work with to continue the conversation.

“I guess you intend to drink since you stopped by here,” Taehyung chattered on, bored and unbothered about Yoongi’s lack of communication. “I’m closest to the train station and in between the karaoke bar. Plus sharing a taxi with us is cheaper than paying on your own.”

Silence.

Taehyung prodded Yoongi’s arm.

“Uh huh.”

Innovative answer.

“I think everyone is going to be there then,” Taehyung continued on, smooth baritone voice calming as he listed the people. “Namjoonie-hyung, Seokjinnie-hyung, Hoseokie-hyung, Jimin, Jungkookie, you, me…”

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s asleep.”

Taehyung pointed to the couch. There was a blob of gray, black and white, too much fabric and face-down into the couch pillows. A poof of wavy black hair the only indication the pile was a human and not forgotten laundry.

“What is he, a newborn infant?”

“I don’t know. He said he was tired. If we don’t let him nap now, he’ll pass out during karaoke and we’re not strong enough to carry him out. Remember last time?” Taehyung sighed.

The monochrome blob that was supposedly the man named Jeon Jungkook suddenly snored, as if on cue.

“Yeah, I don’t know what he’s is doing in the gym but he’s unmovable,” Yoongi muttered.

The phone vibrated.

“Oh, is that me?” Taehyung immediately felt around his pockets and looked around. “Ah, where did I–”

But it was not him. Yoongi looked down. Unfortunately, you’ll bear witness to my awful singing. I apologize in advance. The corner of his lips ticked as he read the message. He breathed out. One, two, three, four seconds, and typed back. That makes the two of us then. A part of him thought he shouldn’t have started this conversation. He wasn’t good at this small talk thing, but one had to make some kind of effort in getting to know someone. And, anyway, he knew himself.

Do before getting carried away.

And, yeah, he wanted to know this one.

“I knew it.”

Yoongi slowly blinked, sensing an ominous presence staring at his phone screen, most certainly reading the name there. Sigh. He pulled his arm back and put his phone in his pocket, looking up to see the grinning, scheming, falsely-angelic face of Park Jimin looming into his peripheral view.

“Oooh, Min Yoongi has a crush.”

Yoongi said nothing, because saying nothing was better than reaching over and strangling Jimin. The latter would require physical effort. Oh, and perhaps land him in jail for murder. But that was only because Taehyung was here as witness.

“Huh… I thought I got a notification,” the latter commented, emerging from his bedroom with his uncased smartphone. Yoongi often wondered how Taehyung never cracked it, but perhaps he just bought new ones when he did. Taehyung often chose aesthetics over practicality. “Oh, finally, you’re out of the bathroom. Do I have to open a window to spare myself?”

“Tae, Yoongi-hyung has a crush,” Jimin sing-songed, bouncing around the older male teasingly as Yoongi remained statuesque. “He’s texting Seokjinnie-hyung’s lady gamer friend.”

Yoongi did not confirm or deny this information as Taehyung’s brown doe eyes went wide.

“OH?”

“Hyung’s flirting.”

Yoongi felt his right eyelid twitch.

“Jungkookie! Jungkookie, wake up, I have news!”

The blob trembled, suddenly alive, shaken violently by a hyper-excited Taehyung who couldn’t believe his ears even though he did not fact-check Jimin and had zero proof if his best friend was telling the truth or not. Apparently, he was filled with too much glee to relay this sudden revelation to the youngest, sleepiest one of the soon-to-be-drunk-as-fuck-karaoke group.

“W... Wuh?”

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook was not that articulate when barely roused from the dead.

“Yoongi-hyung’s flirting!”

Those big peepers snapped open.

“He’s WHAT?!”

“Mmm.”

The night smelled like smoke and someone’s delicious dinner.

“I should, ah, head home now that you’re safely at your door and all that.”

The winter night framed his figure. A halo of streetlamp light caught the gloss of his wavy black hair. Long and dark and shadowy, strands curling around high cheekbones and fair skin. He caught your gaze as you turned to face him. Black-brown eyes and unreadable expression. Half-zipped parka, black sweatshirt, and blue jeans with gray paint splattered onto one knee. No scarf. Strange, because you knew this man was the kind of guy who always wore a beanie and prioritized sensibility over aesthetics, and yet.

Min Yoongi raised his hands and exhaled into his curled palms, warming his nose at the same time. He looked away from you to do so.

“Cold?”

He shrugged. “It’s winter.”

You half-smiled, lifting your ungloved left hand. “My hands are always warm. My face always gets cold first before my hands.”

He eyed your fur-lined leather jacket. A chocolatey faux fur, softness peeking out from the tougher black fabric. Then his eyeline shifted. Intently observing your face. If you were younger, you might have thought you had to react differently. Been shy like the movies or some shit.

You simply waited, keeping your touch hovering in the winter night.

Slowly, you lowered your hand.

Something fluttered in the darkness that was those eyes. You had seen it before, maybe even spied it earlier this night. It was only a get-together between friends, drinks and karaoke, neither activity you particularly enjoyed which led to your original decision of not going. One small detail changed your mind, and he was standing right in front of you. Your singing was awful, but Yoongi was still polite enough to say that you were better than he was. I’m only good at rap. Sure. You heard what he said and his singing voice proved to contradict it. So Min Yoongi was that kind of liar, huh.

You didn’t say goodbye yet.

You could see Yoongi was waiting for you to say it first. You removed your other hand from your jacket pocket. Empty, purposefully leaving your keys behind. Calmly stared into those dark eyes as he stepped forward. You could feel it. The fire beneath the waves. Felt it all night. In the stolen glances, in the way he spoke to you, polite with piqued curiosity, in the way time stopped when your eyes connected.

You smiled.

His cold fingers touched the back of your hand.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need the conversation to be with words. His hand on yours, chills wrapping around the warmth. Experiential. Testing the feeling between you and him. You didn’t need to wonder what he thought of you. He had reached out and touched your hand and you let him, reaching between you and him to softly rub the back of his knuckles, silently speaking to those dark eyes and parted lips through touch. His other hand raised and laid above your joined hands.

Black strands curved around his cheeks as Yoongi lowered his head.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he whispered, smokey and dusky.

Bodies closer, breath mixing. Your head tilted. Lashes lowering. Cold night air disappearing because of the fire under the water, breath to breath, hot, almost burning, the desire to break the surface rising, rising.

“Is it this?” you murmured, barely audible.

You could tell a lot from one kiss. He did not hide his hesitancy or his want. Honesty from the very beginning of his lips on yours, surprised at the way you pressed back against him and inhaled, imprinting the moment to your memory with his scent. Your grip tightened and his did too, telling you everything you needed to know, kiss after kiss, pulling him to you, away from the winter night and memories of a friendly get-together, about to change them into something…

Else.

Yeah.

Fuck it, you were already pushing his parka down his shoulders before your front door finished closing. It was dark but that didn’t matter when you remembered where everything was, flicking on low lights and bringing his face close to yours again, creating the magical moments on your own, not waiting for Yoongi for do so. He was enough magic in his breathless gasps and the way he seamlessly followed the fervor of your kiss, his shallow sighs saturated with lust. There was very little talking except the conversation of bodies. Not much to say when you collided him into the wall and slid your hands under his sweatshirt, skin to warm skin, kisses turning to hot breath and flicks of tongue against his neck, shivers under your lips, and then he flipped the situation, strong hands on your shoulders and rolling against the wall, pinning you with his body.

Hair all over his eyes.

Shaking inhale.

A hall lamp lighting the left side of his face.

“Too fast?” you asked softly.

Dark orbs flickered to yours.

“… No.”

Closer, his air becoming your air.

“I just don’t want you to think this is the reason I walked you home. I didn’t want you to get hurt. Walking at night alone isn’t safe. People are crazy.”

You half-smiled. Alright, more of a smirk. “Maybe I’m one of them.”

A light chuckle, impressed and amused at the same time. “I was trying to sober up too.” Giving excuses.

“Heard you have a high tolerance.”

“Alcohol is alcohol.”

“So, does the alcohol wanna fuck me or do you?”

No one ever called you subtle.

Yoongi closed the distance, his hair falling against your forehead. You could tell he was struggling with himself whether or not to be swept up in the waves of your fire, or maybe struggling with what was wrong and what was right, or maybe he was hesitating once he felt your relentless energy under his hands, but you could also feel something pressing against your crotch and it wasn’t one of his legs.

He was very calm once he made his decision.

“What do you like?”

Your hands in his hair, his ear between your teeth, and his moan into your pillows. Clothes all over the floor, body to body, so much heat that you both seemed to forget it was winter. His hand on your breasts, your hard nipples between his fingertips, your mouth opening and extending your tongue, teasing him, tangling your legs in his. There was some irresistible about his smile and his smirk. You chased both, running your nails over his back and ass, his hard cock pressed to your thigh and his hiss against your neck, do you have condoms, we shouldn’t, but he didn’t need to finish since you were already prepared.

“I’m not irresponsible.”

“Oh?” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow. Glanced at your rumpled sheets, his naked body as he rolled down the condom, and then at your naked body. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

You just smirked.

You were often careful after the first time, following the energy of the other person rather than your own desires. But this time, something was different. Your hand would press to his chest, fingernails curling in, and, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, his length filling you, contented sighs mixing, raking your nails down, lines of pain in your wake, listening to his hitched breath, his eyes flashing.

He didn’t say it, but his voice was in his racing heartbeat and throbbing cock.

More.

Not quite competitiveness but more like pleasure from pushing the limit. There was a certain measure of reservedness, like how he waited patiently for you to lift your leg up onto his shoulder. First one, and then you tapped his other arm. Yoongi raised his eyebrows, but he lifted his other arm, hand back to your mattress once you were folded under him.

You lifted your hips up and rammed into his crotch.

He sucked in a growl and winced, screwing his eyes shut. Probably to avoid you seeing anything too embarrassing. You let your muscles slowly close in around him, squeezing his hardness, letting yourself feel him inside you. Appreciating. He didn’t move right away. You did, steadily fucking him from below, his chest against your thighs, keeping the smirk on your face to stay as infuriating as possible.

“Fucking… Are you enjoying this?”

Low and dangerous, sweet chills up your spine at his deep voice.

“Do you fuck without the intent of enjoying it?” you countered.

He narrowed his eyes and fucked you into your mattress. Merciless and hard and deliberate. Good rhythm, which you expected. Intensity over speed, which you did not expect. Yoongi knew what he was doing. He was not just chasing his own pleasure. There was no need to with the way that you were nearly sending him over the edge with the control of your own muscles. He slowed down for a moment, lifting a hand and tracing your jaw with his fingertips, whispers under his pants, you have nice lips, you know, the perfect shape, and you licked the air, the tongue is better.

Cocked eyebrow, open-mouthed smirk.

“I’ll have to find out next time.” He ticked his head downward. “You wanna get off with me?”

“I will if you fuck me hard enough.”

“You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not. You’ll feel it, trust me.”

You thrusted with him to get that depth you liked and he did, in fact, feel it.

“F-Fuck!”

You bit your lower lip and grinned, throwing your head back and feeling your moan vibrate in your chest, lengthening your high with the containment. Eyes closing, no more talking, your arms up and hands clutching the pillows, fucking him as he fucked you, his swears turning into moans as he felt your orgasm convulse around him, honey wetness sticking to your inner thighs and his, chasing a higher high, cutting off every one before the final crescendo, not letting yourself fully let go, not yet, almost there, not yet.

Saturating every second with vicious, hot pleasure.

Somehow Yoongi knew. Felt it, chased it with you, his muscles tense, rigid, holding back too, building the higher high, harder, steady, fuck, so good.

Your name tumbling from his throat, the warning, and his from yours, the moment, orgasm so intense you forgot to breathe for a second, suspended, and then the crash, gasping as you felt him twitch inside you and your walls pulse, electricity shooting through your nerves, tingling and euphoric, gripping your pillows covered in your hair as Yoongi leaned forward and covered you in his hair and hot breath, colliding kiss matching the escalating beats of racing hearts.

Yoongi stared into your eyes much later, all his clothes back on.

“What?” you asked.

“Just memorizing your eyes.”

He kissed you.

“Love is more circumstance than fate.”

“I always thought so, too.”

These kinds of things came up in conversation around others. These were moments that happened by happenstance. For instance, in the middle of Taehyung’s tirade about how true love was definitely fate between two beings who had a connection unique to themselves that could not be replicated, and he deliberately ignored Yoongi when he pointed out that every connection one had with another was unique because it was between two individuals.

You and Yoongi shared a look of faint amusement in the midst of Taehyung’s abrupt soapbox speech.

Hoseok blinked and repeated his question of whether or not he suited the acorn-shaped pouch that was slightly overpriced despite being on sale. Namjoon injected and said that if he has asking then it meant that he was hesitating. Seokjin told him who cares, just buy it, it’s cute. That was enough convincing for Jung Hoseok. He brought it on the spot.

You found Yoongi afterward, waiting for you around the corner.

“Oh. I thought you went home.”

He looked at you, lowering the hood of his parka.

“I thought about it, but it had been a while since I appreciated the night.”

Then there was silence, until you were close, and then those dark eyes stayed on you, tendrils of black between you and him. Your fingertips touched the button placket of his coat. His head lowered. His breath had a little sweetness to it because of the Korean liquor. You kissed him.

You closed your eyes when you did.

You didn’t say much more.

You didn’t really look at his apartment when you arrived. You were too entangled in the lip lock and pinning his wrists to the wall. Heat pressed to heat. His tongue thrusting between your lips. The cold rapidly defrosting once skin was against skin.

Your nails down his chest.

Heavy exhale, burning anticipation.

You didn’t need to ask yourself, why am I like this. People spent years wondering on their own, but those years were already behind you, in lonely nights of both your parents working overtime and you alone at the table doing homework, cooking your own meals, cleaning up after yourself. If you wanted the video games to distract your brain, you had to be a good daughter. Being a good daughter was not that hard. Do all the things you were supposed to do and take up as little mental space as possible.

Something like that.

You ran your tongue along the inside of Yoongi’s thigh and savored his shudder.

The only detail that slightly annoyed your mother was that you weren’t interested in marrying Seokjin and Seokjin was clearly not interested in marrying you. Not much she could do about that. She gave up on asking for those kinds of details after that, mostly to avoid her own disappointment.

You wrapped your tongue around hot, taut skin, controlling the pressure of your tongue and lips. Up, down, tongue moving independently along the underside of the head, so precise that you saw his fingers sink into his sheets, surprise rippling over his features. Raised an eyebrow at him, letting the amusement show.

Yoongi smirked, a look that suited him very much.

All the way down, hitting the back of your throat. Easy. Guess a lot of people could call you a whore for that but, then again, the ones who actually knew were probably too busy pining over the fact that they would never feel it once more. Didn’t help that you acted as if it never happened once you were done.

You had dedication to games, but to people?

Not really.

It was fun to figure out people. It was fun discovering Yoongi. His sounds, every sigh, the tone of his moan, the way his breath shook when you took him deep and slow. He became very hard every time you went as deep as possible, past the point of breathing. He didn’t try to push your head or interfere with your pace. It was as if he trusted your movement, which was what he should do, because you knew what you were doing.

You swirled your tongue around the head as you went down.

He sucked in a gasp and closed his eyes, visible tension over his chest.

There was a strange familiarity to his movements. That was the only way you could describe the ease of reading his body language. Sometimes you let yourself feel the extent of the pleasure and sometimes you let the pressure build in your body to wallow in the torture of the buildup, like what he was doing now. He wanted to last, so you made it last. Not too fast. Tongue all over his hard, pulsing length, slowing down at the right moment of his hips shivering, layering the intensity again, stroking his balls as you sucked him, spreading the dripping saliva all over.

You hadn’t been having sex with Yoongi for very long, but it felt like you already knew his body.

You let him consider the possibility of you not letting him cum and then you continued the intensity, pushing him over the edge.

“… F-Fuck…!”

Rammed the throbbing head down your throat and felt his thick, salty orgasm spurt into the confines, leaking over your tongue and the roof of your mouth, breathing in to push it back. His hips involuntarily jerked and you immediately reached up to grip them and shove him back down, swallowing around the harsh pulses.

You heard Yoongi moan, low and sweet and erotic.

People were like games.

Only few had replay value.

He thought about saying something, but there wasn’t much to say.

It was his policy to not make something out of nothing. Grander, more general things, sure, he kept those ambitions. But, day-to-day, he learned it was better to go with the flow. You didn’t have disappointments if you didn’t expect much to begin with, so Yoongi didn’t expect much and let himself feel what he wanted to feel.

Like his hands on those thighs and pressing delicious legs to his chest as he sank in.

He tended to enjoy the fucking on top simply because it was easier for him. Most of the time, he didn’t feel much need to experiment or be creative. Most of the time, they weren’t worth it. Her? He fucked her in every position he could think of. This time, he felt the urge to fuck with most of his clothes on, with her holding up his shirt as he thrust into her on the edge of the bed. Not the most optimal position for maximum pleasure, but the arousal in the unnatural movement was enough to get him off.

Her too.

He could tell by the unforgiving clenching around his cock and the sopping wetness that was sticking to his balls, which was causing him to last minutes. You would think the human body would last longer if it felt better, so the pleasure could be felt more extensively, but his dick was much more interested in the instant gratification it was getting.

Oh, well.

He would have to fuck multiple times then, to prolong the pleasure.

She was the one to ask him first. Meeting without the false alibi of just happening to be at the same gathering at the same time. He went with the flow. Their fingertips touching. Her leaning in and kissing his collarbone, lips so soft that they made his nerves spark and muscles shiver, tilting his head back as her tongue traced a thin line upwards, wet heat against his pulse, her hand falling from his hand, tracing his neck.

“Choke me,” he whispered.

Yoongi liked doing things for the sheer curiosity of it.

She sucked on his ear when she choked him and electrified his whole body with lust, his hands finding her hips and slamming them down on his crotch, moaning into her ear shamelessly.

Yoongi knew he got himself into moments like this.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own.

His fingers buried into her wet, warm pussy and he inhaled, drinking in the sweet scent of her juices, in, out, so good, the feeling of power and pleasure at his fingertips, tactile and visceral and intense. Staring into those piercing eyes with one hand around his neck and the other around his hard cock, choking both until he came on her thigh and hip, but not before she came onto his fingers, pushing himself to the brink with his forearm vibrating. Ended up being sore the next day.

Worth it.

Yoongi told himself to do before getting carried away.

He was getting carried away, especially when he was alone.

His shaking breath, breathe in, breathe out, high on the bliss, their lips colliding, covered in each other, salty, sweet, sticky, closer but not, and it was nobody’s fault but his own, because he always thought about saying something, but didn’t.

There wasn’t much to say.

He looked into those eyes, and he didn’t want to say anything. Just wanted to appreciate their shape, their color, the feeling they gave him when he gazed into them, like he could live million lifetimes but recognize those eyes every time. A strange kind of familiarity that didn’t have an explanation. He had known Kim Seokjin for a while, but Seokjin was protective of his female friends, especially his most important one.

So, Yoongi stayed respectful until his brain started getting carried away because his dick wasn’t doing enough.

Well.

He tried.

“I gotta ask you something.”

“You can ask me after you press A, you dimwit.”

“I am pressing A. It’s lagging!” Seokjin growled, bopping you on the arm. You continued leaning against his broad shoulder as the Pokémon raid loaded up. “Are you dating Yoongi?”

“Mmm,” was your reply as you pressed the buttons in order. Battle, Swords Dance, on your Ceruledge. Had to get the setup going to do the most damage before your stats become nullified. The raids in Pokémon were meant to convince players to participate in online play, but math and logic could help you solo or duo them quite easily. You needed Seokjin there so you had one less idiot AI. In fact, Seokjin only purchased this generation of Pokémon to help you out in certain things. Raids and completing the Pokédex. He wasn’t as attached to the series as you were. He played so he could understand what you meant when referencing it, but he wasn’t that invested.

He was a good friend.

“Are you or not?”

“Don’t think it’s any of your business,” you responded absentmindedly, reaching over to command his statistically-perfect Arboliva that you gifted him for this very purpose to perform Helping Hand. You might as well have been doing this raid alone. Seokjin was basically simply a spare console accompanied by a warm body.

For now.

Kidding… unless?

Nah, he was too much fun to tease.

“It is my business. You’re my friend, he’s my friend and, if you two are dating, it’ll make the group all weird.”

“Your friend group is already all weird.”

Seokjin prodded you in the head as you selected Bitter Blade for your attack move. “Be serious.”

“Ask him.”

“I did. He said to ask you.”

“Huh.”

Silence.

“… I’ll kill him if he abandons you.”

You couldn’t pause the raid. It was timed and the raid Pokémon had to be defeated in that time, or you would get kicked out. You didn’t say anything. Just kept pressing buttons, turning automatic.

“Well, I won’t kill him. I’ll make Jungkook kill him.”

Reaching over Seokjin, who did nothing to help you. He just held the Switch as you selected the correct moves and thought about who you needed to raise next. Maybe a Gardevoir. You needed more special attackers to avoid Abilities like Cursed Body and the Burn status condition.

Seokjin was suddenly quiet.

“… You think he’d do that?” you finally said, not quite sure what you meant in asking that.

You felt a hand on your head, bringing you closer to broad shoulders and his game.

“I don’t know.”

One thing about Seokjin was that he always told the truth.

“Are you getting your dick wet or what?”

Yoongi blinked slowly.

“What?”

“Jimin, you can’t ask that,” Hoseok scolded, whacking Jimin’s chopsticks with his own to punish the younger male because the walking sunshine was too pure-hearted to physically strike Jimin. “Eat your food.”

Jimin thinned his plump lips and gave Yoongi the side eye instead of eating his meal like Hoseok told him to. “I think you are. I feel it.”

Yoongi made the executive decision to ignore Jimin and continue serving himself the soup, adding plenty of vegetables. “Hoseok, haven’t you been working a lot lately? You need to eat more meat. You’re getting too thin.”

“You sound like my parents, hyung,” Hoseok laughed jovially as Yoongi added extra slices of marinated beef onto his plate. “Thanks, thanks.”

“Don’t avoid the question,” Jimin continued, buzzing away like a determined bee.

“I get it wet every day. It’s called a shower.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And I answered you.”

Jimin squinted under his fluffy auburn locks. “You’re sussy.”

“Huh?” Hoseok blinked rapidly, cocking his head. “Sussy?”

“Suspicious. Taehyung taught me.”

Hoseok’s lips curled into a round ‘o’, seemingly filing away this new lingo. “Man, sometimes I feel so old around you and Taehyung even though I’m only a year older.” The bustling restaurant complimented his cheerful voice, warm smells and fragrant conversation mixing with the clinking of plates and glasses. He reached over the table, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re talking to someone though. I thought you were going to die alone.”

Those cat-like eyes shifted away.

“… Thanks.”

Nothing more.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble in paradise already.”

“Is something wrong?” Hoseok asked, frowning slightly at the older male’s reaction.

Yoongi sighed, and shook his head.

“It’s nothing. There’s not much to say about it.”

Hoseok caught on right away, nodding intently. “Right! Speaking of, Jimin, I heard you are leading a theater production all on your own.”

“A-Ah, just the choreography for the songs…” A small hand attempted to wave away Hoseok’s sudden unwavering excitement. “Really, it’s not that serious…”

“Yes, it is! A musical! With weeks and weeks of shows…!”

Yoongi avoided looking at his phone all night. He kept his eyes forward and focused on the conversation with his friends. If he didn’t, he would be stuck in his thoughts, wondering what all those nights really meant if all he had now was silence and a loveholic’s hangover he didn’t ask for.

“Oh, shit.”

Those were the first words you had spoken to a real, physical, in-the-flesh human being in a long time (Seokjin didn’t count). First words you had spoken all day, actually. Wait. Maybe you exclaimed out loud, you little fucker, get in the damn ball, earlier. Highly probable. No need to censor yourself when you were at home.

“You have left me on read for two weeks.”

“Oh… shit.”

After the shock had set in, the cold suddenly became apparent. It was winter, after all. Extra obvious by the snow on the ground and the big black parka the person outside your door was wearing, although the red flush around his neck and cheekbones was not from the icy breeze.

“Two weeks,” the man at your front door repeated with a growl, and he started advancing which, in most cases, would be a sign to call the police.

“Surely,” you sputtered, fumbling with your phone in your other hand, letting go of the knob because the screen was tab after open tab of various Pokédex entries of the Pokémon you were considering spending your previous in-game money on to make statistically perfect. Ahem, anyway, you hurriedly changed apps to your Messages app, your eyes widening as you saw the dates of your last messages.

Oh shit.

“Actually, it’s only been twelve days–”

“Twelve days of nothing,” he snapped, slamming closed your front door that you were honestly slightly grateful for. It was fuckin’ cold out there. “And what do I hear tonight? Just yesterday you were speaking to Jeon Jungkook on the phone.”

And, at this point, Min Yoongi got in your face.

You held your phone close to your purple sherpa pullover and stepped back as a stern, gracefully annoyed expression confronted you. Wild long black hair, furrowed eyebrows, and flashing dark eyes. Flushed pink lips twisted into irritation. Open jacket revealing his black sweater and light blue jeans, strange for such a cold night.

“Have you been drinking?” you observed, catching a whiff of his exhale.

“I’m not drunk,” Yoongi countered, backing up and scowling. “I was at Namjoon’s and then I remembered you lived nearby. So, I walked.”

“You… walked?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked slowly.

“Kim Namjoon… if you’re walking… that’s about an hour away….”

The scowl straightened out, leaving a stoic profile as Yoongi refused to look at you.

He grunted.

You were surprised.

“I… Jeon Jungkook called me.” You felt the sudden urge to fill the space of silence as the man before you kept his gaze at a firm ninety-degrees to the wall despite your face being right there. “He was worried about Seokjin, because he kept trying to call him. Seokjin had sent him a box of grapes from his uncle’s farm and Jungkook was trying to thank him via call because his mom told him he couldn’t simply text, but Seokjin wasn’t answering the calls and then Jungkook got worried so he called me since I have Seokjin’s family number but then I reminded Jungkook that that rich guy and his family went to a luxurious mountain resort to go skiing and wouldn’t be back until next weekend,” you finished in a jumbled mess of oversharing.

Silence.

You were highly aware that your Nintendo Switch was loudly playing the classic, cheery jingle of the Pokémon Center in your bedroom, echoing the bright notes throughout your apartment as, er, your possibly-soon-to-be-past fling? current interest? situation-ship? continued staring at the wall as if the paint was the one speaking to him.

To reiterate, you were surprised.

“I… I didn’t think you cared,” you explained, looking up at Yoongi.

He turned his head.

Looking down, black hair around his cheeks. Lashes lifting, slow motion, dark brown orbs raising, then the darkness was on you, and there was no anger, no malice, the heated air of his rash imposition fizzling out once your eyes connected.

His lips parted.

Nothing came out, as if he was about to say something emotional but then stopped himself. His brows knitted together, a moment of recollection, and then.

“Namjoon said I should be honest, so I’m here to tell you that you pissed me off by ignoring me,” he mumbled.

You blinked. Slowly, once again.

“O… Oh. I apologize.”

Silence except heartbeats.

Yoongi looked away.

You could piece the entire picture together now. Your eyes shifted, side to side, to his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, to the faint tint of pink around his ears and neck, to his relaxed shoulders and that tense heart, and you were surprised because Yoongi had always held himself with a devil-may-care attitude and straightforward bluntness. Not that you didn’t think there was more, but rather it seemed as if he didn’t want to address that under any circumstances and you had no need for more when you were your own happiness, and so you asked him another question.

“Is this you or the alcohol talking?”

Yoongi clicked his tongue and frowned, flickering glare meeting you. “Alcohol doesn’t make you a different person. I’m not someone else just because I had a few bottles with Namjoon. I have a high tolerance anyway.”

You smiled.

“I know. Wanted to make sure you were thinking the same thing I was.”

That was why Yoongi and you ended up in this situation. Because he seemed to always end up thinking the same thing you were. There wasn’t much discussion or mystery. There was you and there was him in the same place at the same time. Multiple times. Overlapping interests, but not all the same. Kept things interesting. Discovering you had the same core values and then the same kind of comfortable silence that turned into his hand on yours, experimental, are you thinking what I’m thinking, bodies closer, breath mixing, heads tilting, is it this?

Playing the game.

The Pokémon Center music faded out and then picked up again, always aggressively joyous, always ready to nurse your team back to full health.

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Hah… I’ve just… been playing the new Pokémon game came out recently, so I took time off to play it… thought I said…”

“You did say,” he interrupted.

Awkward pause.

“You did say,” and this time Yoongi sighed, suddenly smacking his palm into his forehead and rubbing it, mussing up his own hair. “You did say, and I believe everyone should enjoy something with the kind of passion you exhibit for your interests. I just wanted you to involve me even though I know nothing.”

You stared at him.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would I involve you in something you don’t care about?”

“I don’t care about it yet.”

“Why would you care about it?”

He flung his hand away from his face and scowled. “Are you an idiot?”

“Depends, are you confessing?”

Again, no one ever called you subtle.

Frigid embarrassment, and it wasn’t from you. Shocking. Suddenly your wall became irresistible to Yoongi’s eyeballs once more. You patiently waited.

“… No.”

“Ah. I see.”

You did see, straight through his bullshit.

Yoongi pursed his lips and gave you the side-eye. “I don’t want to play games.”

You shrugged. “Well, I do, because I’m a nerd, and I could make you a nerd too if you take off your shoes and come to the bedroom.” Chewed on your lip and felt that you should go back to being serious, at least for a moment. “I am sorry. I thought you would call me a kid, and I like you enough to not want you to be so ignorant, so I especially avoided speaking much about playing Pokémon. Honestly, I would rather hear you say that you don’t want to see me anymore than hear you talk shit about my cute pocket monster friends.”

Yoongi surprised you again.

He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t hate Pokémon. I used to watch the animation as a kid. I somewhat regret not being more into it, because then maybe you would have let me in a lot more if we had that common interest.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“Putting your dick in my pussy is not letting you in a lot more?”

He raised an eyebrow back.

“You’re right. That was the alcohol talking,” he replied in a deadpan voice.

You smiled.

He smiled back. It did not seem like he wanted to and it did not seem like he could help himself either. What a predicament. You couldn’t relate.

“Do people like to tell you you’re difficult?” you asked with too much glee, unable to hide your amusement any longer.

The corner of his lips twitched. “All the fuckin’ time.”

You nodded knowingly. “Did you know we have that in common?”

He ticked his head at you, messy black hair over his cheeks and open-mouthed smirk. “Strangely enough, I seem to have learned that tonight.”

“I’m about to teach you a lot more, this time about Pokémon and not about how deep I can throat dick.”

“Consider giving me a supplemental lesson about the latter in the morning when I’m completely sober.”

“Hmm, I accept if can you listen without falling asleep.”

Yoongi eventually did fall asleep, but he did last three hours and retained most of the information in the morning despite being a drunk, ahem, not drunk (according to him) man confessing his feelings at your doorstep. In the future, once he had purchased his own game and was playing alongside you, he would insist that moment was not the one when he confessed, that he definitely confessed later (sober, mind you), and that he definitely did not purchase a Nintendo Switch and start studying the Pokédex more because of you (he had simply found the game a good way to wind down).

Games were just more fun to play now when he had a player two.

Yeah.

We know better.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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