#i hope he knows were with him till the end of the line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jenchan-writingmultis · 1 day

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This was for the best, right? (Vil x AFAB Reader)

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Genre: Heavy angst/ No comfort

Pairing: Vil x AFAB Reader & One-sided Rook x AFAB Reader

A/n: Hi! So do you guys recall the idea I had with Vil x Reader angst? So this is it! If you want to know about it first, I’ll link it (here) I hope you like this one, I gave my best effort on this, hopefully, it fits Vil, I love him so much.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers!

Warning: This is ANGST NO COMFORT! Panic Attacks on Vil’s side, Breakups no reconciliation, misunderstanding and Insecure Vil, relapses of Trauma on Vil’s side, talking bad about Reader’s appearance, although vague it still is there.

!PROCEED WITH CAUTION! Masterlist

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Sypnosis: Your face got leaked throughout social media when you went to have a date with your boyfriend Vil. It made him hate his reputation; he would understand if people bashed him instead, after all, he wouldn't let those words affect him, he's more worried about you, you're not used to the media watching you, having you be seen with him by paparazzi. He kept thinking of ending things with you to protect you from the backlash. ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

He is usually unbothered by the fact that he gains hate often, he plays villainous roles, having to only reach till halfway or even before the story’s conclusion. It was normal for people to threaten him just because his character did something horrible to the main character. At least he is aware of how well he performed in acting by how despised he was. However, what he wasn’t prepared for was you being the one gaining hate.

People are hypocrites, they cuss him out and throw the worst insults they could think of towards him, and at the same time, they view him as a perfect human who deserves someone “better for him”. He didn’t expect that his selfishness would get in the way of his relationship with you just because he wants one normal date outside of school but when one of his paparazzi caught a picture of him with you out on a simple date in Pyroxene. The picture showed your face fully without any filters, those uncouth journalists milking his fame with their horrendous illegal articles; anything to gain a higher footing in their industry than anyone else.

When he found out about the article, you two were cuddling in Pomefiore in his bedroom. He had a separate, massive bedroom since he was the housewarden, watching the film that he was recently cast in. As usual, he was given the role of a villain, it was the same old same old, except this time, the villain won, and it was satisfying to see him reach the end. He didn’t tell you though, so while you lay your head on his shoulder, watching; complimenting his looks and joking about how you’d date him even if he was that crazy.

He loves your little antics, you’re the only one who had an odd mind falling for the roles he has. “You have a peculiar taste for characters sweetheart” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer while you giggled.

“Funny how I’m dating you” You cuddled closer to him, what you said earned you a playful glare. He was about to tickle you as punishment, but his phone suddenly vibrated, showing the name of his manager, he went to kiss your forehead before he untangled himself off you; “Give me a second, I’ll take this call real quick” he informed you which you gave a nod, letting him out of the bedroom and to his bathroom.

"What is it?"He examined himself in the mirror, fixing his hair while his manager spoke, "Vil, check what I sent you, it's a link." Vil glanced at his phone and clicked on the article, wondering what it was, he waited for a bit, and as soon as it finished loading his heart drops.

“Famous actor Vil Schoenheit caught dating!” It was a stupid title, but he didn’t give any thought about It, fearing for the worst he scrolled further, finding your face unblurred on it. “What is the meaning of this?” he frowned, gripping his phone before his manager answered.

“I’m not sure how they found out about the café you and your lover frequent but I’m trying to track down the owner of the article and threaten them with a lawsuit, but with how the media eats up everything, I’m afraid the damage has been done” Vil could hear rustling from the other end his manager taking out which he thinks is paperwork, most likely about the process of lawsuit, he was growing restless as he looked at how many comments and likes did the article gain. He didn’t even notice that his Magicam was being blown up by “fans” questioning him for his taste, and criticizing you.

He was starting to feel chills around his body when he continued to investigate the whole thing, Vil was close to having a panic attack, gripping the edge of the sink. He tried to calm himself down, remembering what his father taught him.

“Deep breath in, deep breath out” he recalled, causing him to loosen his grip a bit and relax. A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts when he faintly hears you from outside.

“Vil? Are you okay? You’re taking a while there” you asked which he straightened himself up, composing himself before looking at his phone, who still had his manager on call. “I’ll have you deal with this; I need to go.” He walked to the door opening it after his manager agreed and ended the call.

“Sorry, it was just a minor nuisance at work” He smiled at you, he was a good actor but when it comes to you sometimes, he can’t seem to lie. “Are you sure? You sounded pretty agitated when I went to check on you” You touched his hand, entangling your fingers with his, which made him sigh.

“it’s…” he hesitated for a moment; does he tell you? He can’t drag you into all of this, he was planning to have it stay hidden till the article was gone, but at the same time, you’re bound to know about it once your friends find out and question you about it.

“Can we talk?” He finally gave it, gazing at you with a mixture of worry in his eyes; how could you say no to that?

When you found out about the article, Vil was worried that you’d be upset at him, not once did your expression change when he was explaining it. He didn’t expect you to smile and kiss his cheek, telling him that “it’s okay, the media will die down on it, at least if they found out, they won’t bat an eye if we go on dates more publicly, right?” you told him.

He was amazed with how well you handled the news; what about the possibility of receiving backlash? No, actually you both were receiving backlash already. “You’ll have to stop using social media for a while and deactivate it just to be safe” he warned you, looking at you for any signs of distress, he was worried you were just hiding it, you’re not someone who’s made to handle the eyes of strangers, he thinks you might not even understand what it means to have your face be doxed by media.

"Darling," he said, enveloping you in his embrace, which you gladly returned. He said, "Listen, this is the media we're talking about," stepping back to look directly into your eyes. You'll be receiving insults left and right, and I worry that if your friends choose to drop you because of our reputation, it will negatively impact you. I'm capable of managing myself and safeguarding you from the public eye, but what if this also concerns your friends?" he knew that the possibility of your close friends dropping you for something trivial like this was unlikely to happen but there’s still a possibility.

“If they drop me for something so stupid, I guess they don’t deserve to be my friend,” you said firmly, “Vil, I don’t mind this, but it seems like you’re bothered by it” You pointed out, touching his face, it was true, he is bothered by it, he’s scared of the outcome, he’s afraid that every day when you go out in public, people will try to hurt you or coerce you into doing something you don’t like.

“Once the article is down, it’ll die out” You comforted him, noticing that his breathing seemed to start being uneven. Was it really going to stop once that article gets taken down? There might be people who saved that article and reposted it.

In the next few days, you two would often just stay within school grounds, Night Raven College is big enough for you two to roam around and have your usual dates; Despite his frequent work schedule and dormitory maintenance, he still made time to have meals with you. During those times, everyone seemed to keep testing his patience, when he was on set, his unprofessional coworkers kept festering him about you, and when outside, he felt restricted, not being able to walk freely without eyes catching him, so he was advised by his manager to use his car to go back to school and work. He kept his social media muted as well; he couldn’t scroll around Magicam cause every article in those past few days has been nothing but hatred towards you.

“That woman looks so average, what the hell did Vil see in her?”

“Honestly, I would even accept if he’s gay for Neige, whenever those two are together they look so cute!”

“She looks like an extra://”

Comment after comment of users trashing your looks, your whole being even without knowing you.

It angers him, so for the sake of his mental health and yours, he made sure that you also kept your social media muted, although often, he saw you scrolling on it, reading the comments, or just chatting with your friends.

He doesn’t understand why you do it, it frustrates him a bit when you do, but he couldn’t tell you to just delete social media entirely, he’s not toxic.

During lunchtime, he was late to meet you, rushing through the cafeteria, he found you with Deuce and Ace, chatting away. He was going to greet you till he heard what Ace said.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna stop this act?” he munched on his egg sandwich while Deuce looked at Ace like he had just grown a second head.

“What the hell are you talking about Ace” Deuce said before Ace glared back at him. “I mean! Being unbothered by whatever nonsense Magicam’s got on. You have your face everywhere and people are talking smack about it!” He pointed out in which Vil couldn’t even see what your expression was right now. “If I were you, I’d confront him as to why it doesn’t die down at all,” Deuce wanted to hit Ace that time, but it was true, both your friends were confused as to why it continued to circulate.

“You don’t have to listen to Ace” Deuce paused, not knowing where this could possibly lead to what he meant. “It’s okay, I understand the concern.” You voiced out, placing the fork down, fiddling with your fingers, “It does affect me, but It’s not Vil’s fault that It got way out of hand.”

Vil frowned, hearing that, so it did affect you, why didn’t you tell him? Was it because of his incompetence? He thought about how many times you told him that it was okay, that you didn’t mind it. He knew that the article was stupid, but the evidence was evidence to journalists, and that caused you to be in the middle of the crossfire between him and his “fans”.

Was it worth sacrificing your peace dating him? He smiled bitterly to himself, how stupid of him to have these kinds of thoughts. He looked at his phone, he was going to send you a message that he was in the cafeteria but decided to go against it.

“I don’t think I can make it. You can go eat.” He sent the message before leaving the cafeteria and going back to the dormitory, he needed some time for himself. When he reached his living quarters, he sat down on his bed, noticing the way the curtains were covering any light coming inside. It was like the state of his mind currently, he didn’t feel like doing his daily routine today, which is funny, if he didn’t push himself to keep a perfect image, he would be nothing but average; but if he did look average, would that give both of you the pleasure of living a normal life?

He scoffed to himself, he can’t just throw his career away, he needs it for your future; both your futures, he stood up, grabbing all the necessary cream, face powder, and other stuff for his face, but the moment he saw himself, looking tired, he stiffened up. Will there be a future where the two of you would be together?

Vil didn’t realize that he started to avoid you. His bedroom is inaccessible, you would knock on his door, but he wouldn’t confront you. Just waiting till the knocking subsided and you were out.

He still showed up to needed House warden meetings, or event planning, he did his duties as usual, he just didn’t do his duties being your boyfriend.

It was as if his insecurities when he was younger were relapsing whenever he thought of talking with you, was it okay to talk to you right now? He still thinks it’s not the right timing. He isn’t his usual self right now and he doesn’t want to risk doing anything bad.

However, it breaks his heart to see the sorrow in your eyes when you meet him and to see him neglect you. He was aware that the distance between you and his unwillingness to communicate about the situation was making your relationship unstable.

After three days of no contact, he was on top of Pomefiore’s garden, he missed you dearly, he gazed down to see his dormmates having tea under the recently renovated garden, then he noticed someone familiar within the garden, focusing his eyes on it, it was you! You looked… happy?

That was the smile that you usually only reserve for him, what’s going on? Vil ripped his eyes off from you, only to notice Rook Hunt, touching you the way you would with a lover, giving you a gaze he never saw from Rook, but he knew what that was.

Rook liked you, and you two looked so perfect for each other, his hand touching yours, having the time of your life, without him. His hand clawed the railing of the balcony, his eyes blurring as he walked away, fearing that he might fall if he ever passed out. His heartbeats were the only sound he could hear, aside from the static his ears were hearing.

“Breathe.”

He fell back into his bedroom, feeling his whole body shiver as he grips on his arm, numb to the pain that his nails were digging into his flesh. Cold sweat trickled down his face, he didn’t know if he was even breathing or not, his brain foggy, like an impending doom was going to happen if he once tried to “breathe.”

Vil ended up passing out, and unfortunately, the moment he woke up, it was already 5 am, he jolted awake, standing up, hearing a continuous knock from his door, he groaned his head throbbing when he moved to the door, opening it, not expecting to see the person he least wants to see.

“Roi de Poison” Rook greets him, smiling brightly at him, Irritating. “I noticed you haven’t gotten up and gone to work yet, did you take a sick leave?” Rook continued, his voice filled with worry, he was about to fix the hair covering Vil’s face before he got his hand slapped away, startling him, he noticed the way Vil’s eyes darkened a bit.

“I’m fine” Vil affirmed, groaning a bit, he pinched the bridge of his nose as another headache hit his head again. “I’ll get ready, for the meantime, please take care of the dorm in my absence” He continued, replying curtly as he slammed the door shut before Rook could even say anything, He was sure that Rook would do as he says, if he didn’t, he’ll find a new vice housewarden.

Vil was already late for work, plus his disheveled look was barely noticeable but his manager noticed the slight imperfection in his looks. She walked up to him, fixing the sleeves of his outfit. “You’re late Mr. Schoenheit” She buttoned the sleeves, waiting for a response from Vil, who just sighed, “I apologize, something came up, can we start?”

You were getting worried, Rook went to your dorm, telling you about the state of Vil and that he was worst for wear, you decided that this time, you were going to visit, it’s been dragging on for too long, and the avoidance of your lover and the media hurting you. You need to do something before your relationship reaches a breaking point.

When you arrived at the modeling agency where Vil works, you were graciously allowed in. You were familiar to those at the agency; some supported you, while others did not. However, the only support you needed was Vil's.

The moment you stepped inside the photoshoot, you saw Vil, working with another model, he looked gorgeous as always, although it seemed that he was tired; it was unusual for him to be in a state where it was obvious.

The manager noticed you before she ushered you further in, just to get nearer where Vil could see you, and Vil froze, stopping the shooting when he saw your face.

“I’m going to take a break,” he said to the crew members, seeing you, his gaze remained unfazed, “Let’s talk on the lounge” he murmured, walking past you.

You didn’t know what else to do but follow him, understanding that Vil wasn’t feeling well. The moment the two of you were alone, he went to give you apple juice, the one that Epel’s family sells, you give a gentle smile to him, but he didn’t reciprocate. It made your heart ache.

“What do you need?” he asked, sitting down on the opposite side of you. Reluctant to look at him, you fixed your gaze on the apple juice. “Are you feeling alright?” you asked, which made Vil chuckle, “That’s a funny question Y/n”

“I just wanted to know, You’ve been avoiding me for a while and-“You were cut off by Vil who placed the half-empty apple juice on the table. “I just needed time to think, plus we agreed to lay low” He answered, which frustrates you “Vil, I heard from Rook that you turned up late during work, that never happened,” you said, wanting to touch his hand, but he pulled it away, his eyes showing a trace of betrayal.

“What?” he asked, heart breaking as he looked at you, “Rook told you?”

“Of course he did, he’s a close friend of yours!” you protested, feeling a sense of desperation when Vil kept rejecting you, for the past few weeks, or months? You don’t know, but it’s been so long since you two last saw each other and stared at each other for more than just a glance, now you’re on the receiving end of his glare?

“You…” Vil murmured, before he finally let his body relax, “I think we should break things off.”

“What?” you gasped, gripping on the apple juice a little bit too hard, “Vil- “

“Why?”

Why? Vil wanted to answer why, there were plenty of reasons why, you two were just way too different, and the fact that if he pursued this relationship further, it’d hurt both of you more. It was clear that Rook liked you and you liked Rook, what is there to continue this relationship? Plus, the media will continue to see you as inferior, this will continue for a lifetime, and no matter what he can’t see why and how your relationship with him will continue without it getting toxic. He finally understood that he is way too much for you, his feelings would slowly wrap you around vines that contain poison, HIS poison. He was thinking of the future, and he can’t see it going beyond the challenges you two face.

He eventually responded, "I lost interest, I’m sorry, we both should focus on our careers first” He lied, not looking at you as well, you both were too hurt to even gaze at each other. You didn’t move or talk, so he decided to stand up, fixing his attire and looking cold. “I’ll be leaving now, hopefully, we can put this all behind us, I’ll have a taxi be ready to get you home when you’re ready.” he said, his heart aching, he wanted to hold you, but he stopped himself, “Just talk to the manager when you want to leave” he continued, turning around before leaving the lounge.

The moment you left, the manager went up to him excitedly, he didn’t feel like celebrating at all when he found out that they found out who the journalist is and are now filing a lawsuit against them; at least on a positive note, you were out of the picture, out of the prying eyes of the media.

This was for the best, he thought to himself, feeling numb while he felt his chest tighten when he went back to work.

Word Count: 3418

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #angst #vil twst #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil x yuu #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #rook x mc #rook x reader #twst rook #rook hunt

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tanktoplinson · 2 years

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early 2000s soft rock brit pop alternative indie goodness or is it just louis tomlinson?

#i rewatched zach sang interview again #and i really agree with what he meant about louis’ music heading into a genre #kinda not explored but a lot if not anyone at this moment #it brings a lot to the table in a sense that’s also nostalgic #WHICH is the reason why a variety of people have shown interest and love for what he puts out #and nobody is really doing it like him #im so so proud that he’s carving his own path and working hard to make the art he’d always wanted to be making #we’ve come a long way since radio chasing days but even then each part of the journey is crucial #i hope he knows were with him till the end of the line #my love letter to lou #reyna speaks

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bluebeary-jay · 9 months

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Damage done

Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully

Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts

Word count: 4K

A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌

It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.

So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.

It was about the play at Sarah’s school.

“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”

“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”

You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.

You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.

“It’s your kid, Joel–”

“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”

“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”

“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.

“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”

“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”

“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.

“No, you’re not.”

“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.

It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.

Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.

Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…

Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.

He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.

Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.

You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.

“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”

Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.

But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”

He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.

“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”

He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”

A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”

You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.

“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”

“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”

Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.

“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”

“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”

You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.

“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”

His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.

Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.

You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.

“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”

“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.

And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.

“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”

“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.

“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.

“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”

Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”

He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.

Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.

Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.

Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.

“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.

You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…

You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.

You couldn’t lose him.

“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”

You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”

You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.

“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”

“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”

He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.

“What can I do?”

That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.

“What?”

“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.

“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”

Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.

“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.

“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.

“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”

You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”

“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”

You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.

His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.

“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.

“I want to take care of you.”

“But your back pains…”

“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”

His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.

He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.

But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.

“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.

“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.

“Can you… can you hold me?”

Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.

Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.

You knew you were safe with Joel.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.

Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.

But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.

And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.

When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.

“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.

He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #young joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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s0ulryo · 3 months

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Boyfriend Alastor Headcanons .♡ ⋆·˚.

[Alastor x Reader] Synopsis: Oddly specific (but also vague) boyfriend Alastor headcanons. Tags: Soft, established relationship, typical violence Notes: Probably ooc, not proofread, lowercase intended, feeding the void, i hope u enjoy hehe

(Reader is always gn unless specified otherwise.)

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who loves to be a pain in your ass—constantly saying that he won’t do the chores you asked him to do—but ends up doing everything you asked and everything you were supposed to do.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who will send out his shadow to mess with you when you guys are apart.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who will attempt to bite you every chance he gets, forgive him; you just look so tasty!

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who uses your shampoo, conditioner, and body wash when (if) he takes a shower—he likes how you smell and can’t be bothered to buy his own.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who loves to cook for you! he often cooks meals that his mother taught him to make; he also enjoys it when you add your spin to those recipes.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who takes all your things and hides them; there is no reason, sometimes he feels a bit silly.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who often asks you to dance with him. he likes spinning himself and spinning you till you’re dizzy.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who will attack anyone who disrespects you with no hesitation—they’re basically disrespecting him when they disrespect you.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who likes to cut you off, speaking or waiting in line, doesn’t matter to him; he really just wants to test your patience.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who head bumps you when he doesn’t know what to say.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who likes wearing your things that are easily concealable; jewelry, socks, nail polish even—it reminds him of you, usually smells like you, and it’s probably cleaner than his stuff.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who will sneak up behind you every chance he gets.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who likes staring at you; he’ll try to do it when you’re not paying attention to avoid having to talk about it.

BOYFRIEND ALASTOR, who really does care for you; believe him, he’s trying his best to show his affection.

#s0ulryo #s0ulryo writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #meowmeowmeowmeow

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longing-for-the-past-times · 9 months

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The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - two.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 3,157 (got a bit carried away)

synopsis: after a mission, you and Ghost end up in a safe house, waiting for exfil. Both of you are exhausted after two days of being under the fire, but will any of you give in to exhaustion?

notes: I definitely did not expect so much support on the first part, so thank you very much, I really don't know what to say. I hope you enjoy this as much as the first part!

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

two.

You hadn't slept properly in two days, but at least the mission was a success. As successful as a mission can be when you have to spend the night in a deserted safe-house, in the middle of nowhere, waiting for exfil.

At least you were not alone, you reasoned, as you lay on the ragged couch and pulled out your sniper rifle. And perhaps you could get some shut-eye before dawn if your partner would assign you to the first watch.

There was a catch though. The person you ended up in the safe house with was none other than your Lieutenant, Ghost. And after the embarrassing scene where you fell asleep on him on base last week, you were mortified to be in his presence, especially when you were alone and there was no one there to fill the awkward silence that would settle in. He hadn't even teased you about it—only that one time, immediately after you groggily awoke on his shoulder.

The memory of the moment lingered in the back of your mind: the exaggerated way in which he rolled his shoulder, as if to emphasize your weight almost put his arm to sleep, and the glint in his eyes, perhaps delighted to catch you off-guard. If you hadn’t been so busy avoiding him for the following days, you would have noticed his slight shift in demeanour towards you. Whenever you were in the same room, his gaze would linger on you, his eyes visibly softening as if he was silently reliving the scene. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but after he had the time to fully process the interaction, he’d felt oddly satisfied with himself - he made you feel safe and protected, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

So why wouldn’t you look him in the eye when he tried to speak with you?

“You can go rest, L.T., I’ll take the first watch!”

He definitely did not want to give you that look, not when it had been two days since you’d last exchanged any words with him. But he was stubborn, and you were also stubborn, and the last thing he wanted was to argue with you.

“There’s a bed in the other room. You can rest there till they get us out.”

So he chose his preferred tactic: deflect your words, plainly overlook them, as if they were merely a background noise in the conversation.

He did not miss the way your shoulders tensed up or that you’d stopped cleaning your sniper riffle. The fact that your breath stilled was not lost on him, but he kept pretending he was busy checking his own riffle as if it would determine you to listen to his words and get some well-deserved rest. And yes, he was stubborn. But you were more than stubborn. And you had also won several debate competitions in high school:

“I was only involved in surveillance, I believe I am rested enough to take at least the first watch!" “We are not having this conversation, Sergeant!”, Simon rolled his eyes in annoyance, all too aware that you were only beginning your argument. “You haven't slept in two days!” “Well, technically I was in a position that allowed me to rest more than you! I was literally resting on my belly for most of the time while you were out there, in the line of fire!” "We both know that's not how it works, Bambi!", he let out a frustrated groan that made you widen your eyes in his direction. It was the second time he expressed himself in such an uncharacteristic way, not even seeming to be bothered afterwards by the sudden display of emotion.

But that did not make you back down. Instead, you propped your sniper riffle on the small coffee table, purposefully ignoring him as you busied yourself making the necessary adjustments so that it pointed towards the middle of the wooden door. Anyone who would try to barge in without identifying themselves would be pierced by your bullets before realising what was actually going on. Ghost placed his skull mask on the same table and discarded most of his heavy gear, until he remained in the tactical vest, a basic black balaclava covering his face. As he got up from the couch to check on his ammo, you also started to get rid of the heavy layers of your sniper gear, most of which was covered in grass and dirt. You wouldn't even bother to clean it up when you got back to the base - the messier it was, the more realistic it looked on the field. As you were checking that all knives were in their sheaths, your gaze fell on the skull plate casually tossed next to your riffle. You were so used to it being plastered to Ghost’s face that seeing it carelessly thrown on the table seemed out of place, inexplicably domestic even. The more you thought of it, the more you realised that you’d never seen it anywhere but on his face - he must have kept it stowed away somewhere when you were stationed at the base.

If you were sane and did not have a death wish, you would have at least asked for permission before leaning in to touch it. No, scratch that, the thought of the action itself would not even cross your mind: no one touched L.T.'s mask, whether it was on his face or not. But you were exhausted, the two days of constantly being on the lookout, with little news of your team, starting to take a toll on you. And the sight of splattered blood across the cracked white surface was troubling enough to make you let your guard down and start scrubbing the mask vigorously with your sleeve, in a seemingly futile effort.

You were so concentrated on the task at hand, eyebrows etched into a deep frown, that you did not notice the creeping silhouette that was lingering in the doorway. The sight of a 6'2" man, coming to stand directly in front of you with his arms crossed in a suggestive stance was completely lost on you as you kept rubbing your palm against the red stains, huffing in annoyance when they did not seem to go away. He must have been involved in some form of close combat as the blood clearly wasn’t his and although you knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, the thoughts of what could have been if he hadn’t paid enough attention, or if he’d been outnumbered plagued your mind. You were not supposed to worry about him like that. He was just your superior.

And also the person you fell asleep on once.

In the meantime, Simon was at a loss for words. He too was tired, having spent the last 48 hours being shot at and almost stabbed a couple of times. And perhaps, if he had to spend the night with someone like Soap, he might have gone to sleep for a couple of hours, letting the demolition expert keep watch. But he couldn’t allow himself such a liberty when you came into the equation- the need to protect you, to keep you from harm’s way was too intense, almost burning inside him. He could not fathom the thought of trying to rest with you having to spend the night in alert, on the lookout for any potential enemies. It was not that he did trust you with such a task, he was aware you were fully capable of it, but it just didn't sit well with him.

Yet there you were, your hands holding a piece of him. More than a couple of years have passed since he'd donned the persona of Ghost and the mask that you rubbed your knuckles against was an integral part of it. Never before had someone dared to touch his mask, he knew that everyone was too scared of it, of the persona he'd created through countless missions and stories. He was used to hearing people whispering behind his back, scrawny recruits sloppily pointing at the skull plate he'd spent an entire night stitching to a balaclava. He was also aware of the bets made on that topic and the gossip that claimed he must have been some kind of mutant, his physical features too grotesque to be displayed to the world.

There was a time when he himself did not know why he was wearing it, but the familiar weight on his face was a comforting sensation, a lover's embrace. That was the moment he knew he was becoming one with Ghost. That, and the fact that people couldn't tell his mood based on his facial expressions anymore. It was sort of liberating, not having to be judged based on what your face looked like at a certain moment.

He slightly tilted his head to the side, both amazed and alarmed that you hadn't noticed him yet. He hoped it was because you didn't think of him as a threat, not because your situational awareness was dimmed as your exhaustion increased. And he had to bite back a smile when he heard you mutter a string of curses under your breath when the crimson stains didn't seem to go away. Should he tell you only bleach does the job?

He decided to keep that secret to himself, loudly clearing his throat to get your attention. At that point, he was willing his eyes to stay inexpressive in spite of his lips twitching as your reaction to him was worthy of your callsign.

You couldn't help but flinch at the sudden intrusion, quickly placing the mask back on the table. You gave Ghost a tight-lipped smile, all too aware of the heat that was spreading across your face, your eyes resembling those of a deer caught in the headlights.

"I'm so sorry, Lieutenant, definitely did not mean to pry like that!', you profusely apologised, trying, but failing, to not look into his dark orbs.

Those damned eyelashes, why did they have to be so perfect?

But Ghost was too distracted by your doe eyes that he did not process your words properly. He wouldn't ask you to repeat whatever you'd just said, but he also did not want to ignore you, not when you spoke to him more than you did in a week, so he said the first thing that came to his mind: one of his army puns.

"Why did the mask go to therapy?"

You blinked back at him, not quite accepting that he'd simply brush it off like that. But his look was so expectant, almost willing you to answer what you knew was going to be one of his bad dad jokes, that you had no choice but to gesture him he could go on.

“It had too much 'bloody' emotional baggage.”

You cringed visibly at the reply, letting out a small sigh as you sat back on the couch, with him plopping next to you:

"Not gonna lie, but that was really bad, Ghost!"

He gave you his usual unimpressed look and you could see his balaclava shifting as he opened his mouth to answer, but a huge yawn interrupted him. A huge yawn that you tried to cover with both of your hands and that made you give him a sheepish look, that of a naughty child who pretends to be innocent.

"Wanna hear another?" "Oh God, spare me-" "Why did the tired operator try to stay awake during the mission?"

It was your turn to look unimpressed. He was definitely making it up on the go.

"Because she thought falling asleep on the job would be a 'mission impossible'."

His balaclava may have been on, but his eyes were sparkling again, a small glimpse of amusement in them. You wished you'd known a couple of one-liners just to be able to keep that glimmer as it was.

"You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?" "All I'm trying to say is that you should get some rest, Bambi. I know you think I'm also tired, and believe me, I am, but you know what do two tired operators make?"

If you were taken aback by the amount of words he put into that sentence, you did not let it show. Instead, you caught on the quip and dutifully replied:

"Two dead ones." "You're a quick learner. So just get some sleep, even half an hour would do it. In the bed, on the couch, hell, even on the floor if that's what you want-" "Ok, ok, you got me, Ghost! But on one condition!" "Let's hear it." "When I wake up, it's your turn to rest. Two tired operators are dead operators, but one rested and one tired operator are just as much!"

The defeated mumble that you got as a response made you smirk, purposefully avoiding his determined gaze, currently set on you. Shaking your head in defeat, you trudged to the bedroom, took the weighted blanket from the bed and placed it on the couch, unaware that Ghost had scooted over to make you more space. It was not a complete success, he'd rather you took the bed that at least had a mattress more comfortable than the springs from the couch, but he would make the compromise. And you would be sleeping in his presence again, not that he had any feelings, good or bad, towards it. He would just relish in the vulnerability of the moment and his role as your protector.

"Alright, wake me up in 30!", you warned him as you got under the blanket, leaning on the arm of the couch, bracing your knees to your chest.

The deep hum you got as an answer sent a soothing sensation down your spine, and you couldn't help but smile as you cuddled up in the fetal position you chose. Deep down, a part of you felt selfish for giving in to the weariness, but the Lieutenant was right: fatigue led to mistakes which could lead to getting you killed.

Besides, you would also make sure he got some rest before morning. You were confident you could do it, you just didn't know how. Yet.

***

The mark of half an hour came and went, but Simon did not shift from his rigid position facing the entry of the safe house. He couldn't bring himself to wake you, not when the faint noises you occasionally let out were a testament to how much you needed the break. And it was not like he could have slept as peacefully as you did - now that he had time to think and reassess the mission, his mind was plagued by alternate scenarios and what-ifs. What if Laswell's intel pointed them to the second building in the compound instead of the first, and they would have been blown up to pieces as soon as they'd broken in? What if Soap hadn't warned him through comms of the two hostiles that were headed towards him, from his blind spot? What if someone had noticed that their men were falling even when no one in the building was shooting at them, and sent someone to look for the sniper positioned nearby?

His trail of thoughts was interrupted when he felt a familiar weight near his leg. He momentarily froze and had to make an effort to look down at the couch and see that your head was resting dangerously close to his leg, your hair gently brushing against his worn-down tactical pants. You must have somehow shifted in your sleep, as the weighted blanket you covered yourself with was forgotten on the floor, your left arm hanging limply on one side of the couch. You were lying on your back, soft snores leaving from your half-open mouth, and all Simon could think of was that your head was almost in his lap.

Why did he want it to be there? He recalled your embarrassment when you fell asleep on his shoulder, back at the base. You would be mortified if you woke up with your head in his lap, and tactically speaking, it would make it harder for him to react to an immediate threat. Then why was he craving the contact like he craved the feeling of the sun on his face on those first days he wore the mask?

Another hour passed and Ghost had no intent of waking you up. You truly must have been exhausted, he thought to himself, as he took in your soft snores and occasionally small sighs. The night was dark and silent, and the only source of light that trickled into the room was a dingy lamppost from across the road.

Eventually, Ghost let his eyes wander over your sleeping silhouette, hooded eyes hungrily lingering over the delicate details accentuated by the faint glow. And in that moment, you were as boundless as the sea and vast as the universe. You were lost in a world woven from your dreams, while he, awake and aware, found himself trapped in a dream of his own. And he was in deep that he did not realise when he let his arm rest above yours, leaning his head onto the back of the couch. The grip on his combat knife remained firm, ready to jump into action if needed, but his eyelids were heavy, too heavy for his liking and the soft cadence of your breathing was too inviting. He would only rest his eyes for a bit, not that he could fall asleep like this. He shouldn’t fall asleep like this, not when he is supposed to keep you safe.

The faint crackling of your communications could be heard across the room, mingling with the sunbeams that filtered through the heavy curtains. Grunting in annoyance, you rolled on your side, looking for the blanket you’d covered yourself in earlier. It took your mind a moment to register you were not in your bed, but on a couch, yet it was too late to prevent you from rolling into thin air, the heavy thud of you falling on the floor reverberating across the room.

Ghost opened his eyes in an instant, eyes promptly directed to where you had been sleeping. The absence of your body sent his half-asleep mind into a frenzy, hands scrambling for a weapon which he pointed to the floor. His cold gaze softened when he saw your bleary-eyed figure, a smile dancing on his lips as he took in the string of curses you kept muttering under your breath.

“Watcher 1 to Bravo 0-7, how copy? Exfil’s inbound your way. I say again, exfil’s inbound your way.”

Not taking his eyes off you, Ghost pressed the button on his comms, wishing he had Soap’s Polaroid at hand:

“Bravo 0-7 to Watcher 1, copy.”

taglist: @neoarchipelago

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #task force 141 #ghost imagine #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #call of duty imagine

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jaylaxies · 9 months

Note

ARIAARIAARIAAAAA HAVE YOU SEEN THISS

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSL7vJc3J/

GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS 💭 - 🎉

OMG I HAVE and here:

tw: stalking, drugs, blackmailing, gambling, guns, smut

stalker!hee who pretends to be the nerd in your class, always watching you from a distance simply because he can’t get enough of you, you’re too pretty for anyone else to have and that’s how he learns the way to your heart, getting information about the smallest things such as your favourite drink so when he finally talks to you, he can manipulate you into thinking that he’s the perfect guy for you, knowing everything there is about you, him being wild in bed and having a big cock is only a bonus.

drug dealer!jay who’s always present at all your frat parties with whatever a person would need to feel out of this world, yet that’s not what you crave, you want love, you don’t wish to feel alone in this world and so, you try drugs in an empty balcony, but you request jay to accompany you for the same. he’s habitual to it, and he finds you cute with your mumbling, but once you both get high out of your mind, heat kicks in and soon, you’re on top of jay, kissing the life out of him while riding his cock, which feels a thousand times better while smoking.

blackmailer!jake who’s also your ex and possessive beyond what you’d consider normal. the breakup was messy, he was controlling your life and you were against it, but he had ruined everything for you. nothing felt good after him, no one fucked you as good as him till the day you get a text from him, hoping that it’ll be an apology but he ends up blackmailing you with the crime you had committed and buried deep in your memory. what he wants in return? you. it’s an easy bargain with you missing his touch and him doing anything and everything to have his cock in you again.

street racer!sunghoon who’s all the money in this world and yet nothing gives him the thrill like racing does, and that’s why he finds himself back there each week, until one day he spots you. he hardly pays attention to anyone, and he almost missed you since your clothes fit right in, but he doesn’t like how you’re clinging on to his rival heeseung. that would have been enough for him to stop thinking about you but that wasn’t the case when he made most out of the line bet with him—that he’ll have a night with you if he wins, which he did. but you’re fierce, you hate how they treated you as a bet, and without your knowledge at that. but that doesn’t stop you from fighting back, and fighting with sunghoon doesn’t end well, one minute you’re fighting, the other you’re under him, begging for more as he fucks you senseless on his silk sheets.

gambler!sunoo who cannot stop getting back to the gambling hub each night. the reason? you. he doesn’t like how you wear that smirk of yours, clad in the tightest clothes while playing strip poker, somehow always winning and never having to go beyond removing your top. sunoo never plays with your group, always observing from a distance until he finally caves in and plays with you, eyes on you, not caring about the ones around. he plays effortlessly, being the best player you had ever came across, a gasp left your mouth when you were left in nothing but your panties but he stops you from removing them, eyes dark, “leave them on, it’s only for me to see,” he’d whisper, and yes, you can’t deny him and find yourself following him back to a hotel.

mafia!jungwon who never had any other motive in life but to kill his rival as a revenge for his family, but right on the day of his final plan, things went south and you (who happened to be at the same restaurant) got hurt. of course jungwon completed his mission but leaving a girl injured would be way out of line even for him, and you had also seen their faces behind the masks while holding guns, which is why they couldn’t let you run away, which is why you found yourself in their secret building, trying your best to get away, but jungwon wasn’t having any of it. he snapped, pinning you against the wall and warning you, but you took this as an opportunity to kiss him, turning it into something deeper as you let him fuck his pent up frustrations into you. the sex was good but you wanted out, running away when he was sleeping, not knowing that he’ll come to get you again.

#🎉 anon #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jungwon smut #sunoo smut #enhypen #enhypen imagines

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 2 months

Text

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him.

“You’re quiet.”

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer.

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“I like watching you clean.”

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress).

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?”

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.”

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.”

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.”

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Something wrong?”

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?”

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?”

“Can I give you a tattoo?”

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!”

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much.

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.”

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?”

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.”

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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shu-porang-porang · 3 months

Text

First Love / Late Spring

Your first time with Minho (I wrote the whole thing just to picture that last paragraph!)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Theme: fluff, explicit

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (do not try at home!!), fluffff, not proofread, 18+ NO MINORS

Word count: 2 k

It’s only your fourth date and you’re nervous around him. He’s not exactly easy to approach, he’s guards are up, he talks politely as if you’re a coworker, and he doesn’t initiate nor seem comfortable with any type of intimacy. If he hadn’t asked for another date, you would’ve thought he wants to have nothing to do with you. But the fact that he wanted to see you again assures you that he’s interested and is doing his best, so you decide to be more understanding and give him time to open up. That’s how you ended up having a movie date with him at your place. You realized he tends to stiffen up way more when in public, probably he’s afraid of rumors and whatnot, so you offered to just stay in, order some takeouts and watch a movie, which he gleefully accepted.

It's indeed a chill date. Although you’re both kinda awkward, you manage to ignore the awkwardness and enjoy your meal and the movie. Not much is said during the movie, just a few comments on the characters and hard-to-grasp story line, yet these few exchanges reveal more of his true personality and make you wanna kiss his beautiful brain.

You started the movie sitting apart, neither of you confident enough to invite the other for hugs and cuddles, but towards the end, you summoned all the courage in you to reach for his hand, place it in your lap and mindlessly play with it. You see the tiniest smile in the corner of your eye that encourages you to keep going. Oh how bad you wanna bring it to your lips and kiss those gorgeous veins but you control yourself. You have no idea how the movie ended; you were too lost in holding his hand to follow the rest of the story.

He untangles his fingers from yours to fish for his phone in his pocket and checks the time.

“Oh it’s quite late, I better get going.”

Really? Was that it? Has he never heard of Netflix and Chill? Was he really here to just watch a stupid movie? You try your best to hide the disappointment but your expressions always give you away easily, you’re not the type to act. You try to think of sth to convince him to stay for a bit more, but there’s really no excuse that wouldn’t make you seem so desperate. Now that your brain cogs are running fast you realize the constant tapping of the rain that your ears had tuned out, so you give it a shot.

“You didn’t drive your car here, right? And I think it’s quite a heavy shower from the sound of it, you can stay till it’s over?”

“It’s alright, I can just get a cab or sth…” he says but he doesn’t seem so persistent. Maybe it’s just your desperation fooling you, but you sense he might not hate the idea of staying a bit longer.

“Anyways, I don’t mind, you can stay. I’ll prepare some tea!” You mentally face palm! TEA? Is that the best you could do to convince him to stay?

“Tea sounds perfect!” Turns out that was good enough!!

“Alright then!” You say a bit too excited, then get up to hurry with making the tea coz you don’t know how long the unpredictable spring shower is gonna last.

To your surprise, your little tea party gives way to talking about everything and nothing for hours, the rain long forgotten. It’s like in a night, you got 10 years’ worth of information about him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you put a spell on him with that tea! He opened up to you more than he’d like to admit, so did you. You’re both private people but something just clicked tonight. You feel much closer to him now and hope he feels the same.

When you both finally fall silent and seem to have run out of stories for the night, you bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently with your thumb. “Let’s go to bed, you had a busy day, need to get some rest.”

He leans in to your touch, holding your hand and turning his head to kiss your palm. “If we go to bed, resting is the last thing I wanna do.” It brings a shy smile to your lips, he’s suddenly bold and it makes your heart flutter. You get up and lead the way to your bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, his hand cups your face to bring it close for the sweetest kiss. His lips lock on yours and he takes a deep breath inhaling your scent before kissing you. He slowly pushes you back till the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. He lays you down on it gently, never disconnecting his lips. Each kiss is planted with utmost care, as if you’d break under his touch if he’s not careful. It’s sweet and at the same time annoying. You want him to devour you, to act bolder, to do what he really wants to do. You pull the hair at his nape and tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Thankfully, he gets the hint and his kisses get sloppier and more aggressive as he enters his tongue in your mouth. His hand roams over your clothed body, yanking at the fabric of your dress, you’re too distracted by his tongue and teeth assaulting your mouth that you don’t realize he wants it gone.

He breaks the kiss to ask: “Can I take it off?” to which you manage to answer: “Yes please” while panting.

He helps you out of your dress, lying there in your lacy underwear you feel exposed under his intense gaze, his eyes darker than usual and hooded with lust. The blush that creeps up to your cheeks is visible even in the dim lights of the room. After taking in the sight of your somewhat naked body for a few long seconds, he lowers his body back onto yours while removing his shirt. He kisses a trail from the column of your neck down to your chest. He reaches a hand back to unclasp your bra and you shuffle out of it, giving him access to your soft breasts. He covers them in playful kisses before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth sucking gently which draws a yelp from you and your hips jerk into his involuntarily. Your reaction encourages him to suck harder and his fingers take care of the other nipple, twisting and pinching the sensitive nub to demolition. He’s quite satisfied with your little whimpers here and there; he hums in approval which reverberates through your entire body.

You open your legs wider to fit him in between. As he adjusts himself between your thighs, he slides down, leaving butterfly kisses on his way to your panties. His face is only millimeters away from your throbbing core, he can feel the heat radiating from it. He looks up at you, silently asking if he can proceed. You hastily nod, how could you say no to those gorgeous feline eyes? He flashes you a little smirk before dipping his nose to your covered core and taking a whiff with his eyes closed, as if he’s taking in the scent of a flower bouquet. You’re embarrassed and turned on at the same time. Finally, he removes your panties and discards it somewhere on the floor, and without hesitation darts his tongue out to lick a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. You feel your orgasm building up as he keeps alternating between lapping at your entrance and sucking on your clit. Your grip on his hair gets tighter and your thighs close around his head. To bring you to completion, he inserts two fingers in so he can dedicate his mouth to your clit. Soon after you cum moaning his name, like how you imagined you would. He helps you ride your orgasm and kisses your inner thighs as you’re coming down from it, trying to catch your breath.

He crawls up and moves the strands of hair away from your face so he can kiss you and give you a taste of yourself. “You taste so good; you should try it.” he says before closing his lips on yours and shoving his tongue in, you suck on it, tasting the remnants of your arousal.

“Do you think you can keep going?” he whispers against your lips.

“I sure can.” you reply, closing the gap to kiss his swollen lips again.

He sits back up and you watch him with anticipation. You felt his bulge multiple times tonight, but still have no idea what’s coming for you. He’s fast to unbuckle his belt and rid himself of his pants and boxers. His erection, hard and proud, slaps against his stomach. You certainly did not expect this. It scares you a bit, even though he worked you up well you’re afraid you might need more preparation to fit it in. His hand wraps around it pumping a few times and smearing precum on the tip before hovering back over you, he slides it between your folds to cover it in your juices. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer for a kiss, no matter what, you can’t get enough of those soft lips. You feel his tip poking your entrance and your mouth falls slack once it finally enters you. Your grip around him tightens and breath is knocked out of your lungs as the stretch overwhelms you.

“Are you okay baby? should we stop?” he asks once he notices how tensed you got.

“No… just… a second” you don’t want it to end there, you want him, all of him.

He peppers kisses all over your face while waiting for you to adjust, telling you how perfect you are and how well you’re doing in between the kisses. It melts your heart how gentle he is. You ask him to move and he sinks a bit deeper, and deeper, and deeper until there’s no more room for him to go, yet he manages to rearrange your insides and bottoms out. He stays still for a while, brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, enjoying the warm hug of your velvety walls around him, then he starts with slow thrusts, testing the waters. Soon the room is filled with lewd sounds of skin slapping and moans. He shakes the bed with each thrust, you hold onto him for dear life, years of dance practice and workout have given him unmatched strength, his precision is remarkable as well. You’re about to fall apart for the second time tonight.

“Min…. cumming..”

“Cum for me…. Don’t forget to… say my name…”

And you do so as your walls flutter and cream around his cock. He keeps pounding into you chasing his own release, your insides are on fire. Finally, the forceful thrusts turn into ruts, his teeth dig into your shoulder as he comes. He bullies his cock into you milking it dry while riding his high, and you hear your name in between the groans leaving his agape mouth. He pulls out and drops next to you. you feel your mixed juices gushing out, soaking the sheets.

He props up on his elbow, his other hand caressing your cheek. “I hope I wasn’t too harsh. You did so well baby.” he says and then leans in to kiss your forehead.

“No, it was great… thank you.” you cup his face and give him a sweet lingering kiss.

You need to get up and clean up, but something about this moment is so pure you don’t wanna disturb it. So, instead, you hug his head, pressing it to your chest. He wraps his arms around you and snuggles closer, leaving no gap between the two of you. You grab a blanket you can reach and cover your sticky bodies.

You watch the sky grow lighter as your fingers play with his soft locks. Your slightly ajar window lets in the scent of rain mixed with something flowery, it’s jasmine you decide. Birds are chirping but his steady breathing is a far better melody to your ears. The cool breeze and his warmth are the perfect combination that eventually put you to sleep.

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cloverandstuff · 2 months

Note

Do you think Ivan's love was really one-sided? This question is driving me insane, I need to know

Oh dear, first ask and its this-

TLDR: Ivan's love was one-sided until the very end but Till did have the potential to love Ivan back if their circumstances were much different.

Alright, the simple answer would be yes.

Ivan's love for Till was always meant to be tragic, desperate and unfulfilled in order to have the impact that it did.

This also lines up with a conversation he had with Sua about dying for the person they loved. He criticized Sua because her death would hurt Mizi because Mizi loved her, and Sua was a coward to try to run away from that fact.

Ivan, on the other hand, did the exact same thing, because he knew that in his case, Till never loved him back so his death wouldn't hurt him. He died cause he knew he could so and not be a hypocrite.

Till never shows Ivan in his flashbacks and Till never seems to look at Ivan unless instigated to. And even then, it's often briefly and barely. Till didn't love Ivan, not in the romantic sense...

Mizi loved Sua, Till loved Mizi and Ivan loved Till and it was always supposed to be this way.

BUT the thing about all these things is the love was borne out of finding solace and hope in another person. They were in an abusive, controlling and dull environment and looked to another person to find a will to live.

So that being said, while Till didn't love Ivan, I think there was potential for that love. Because I do think Till did care about Ivan to some extent.

Maybe if they weren't in such a horrid enviroment, maybe if they were all free and allowed to do and love whatever and whoever, Till could've loved Ivan.

Because Till did hesitate when it came to running away with Ivan. Ivan never saw this, but Till looked almost guilty, nervous and scared before turning back.

And when Ivan died, the reaction that Till showed was maybe of that of a person who cared. Who looked worried and confused. Of a persons who lost everything.

In another universe, maybe Hyuna managed to save them both, and Till manages to learn to move on from Mizi, and Ivan's love for Till tones down, and Till can love Ivan.

#alnst ivan #alnst till #alnst #alien stage #ivantill #till alien stage #alien stage ivan #tyche asks

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darling-zain · 11 months

Text

✮ ↳ All Eyes On Me ↰

♡ yandere! actor x gn reader pt 2♡

tw/cw: obsessive love, murder, mentions of blood, slight emotional manipulation

authors notes: this took me forever i'm sorryyyy editing is a bitch :( but I'm really proud of this one!! hope you'll like it too <3

"Why weren't you watching?" His voice is cold and filled with contempt as he glares at you, his nails digging into the skin of his palm.

"I-I was! Why wouldn't I watch, I've been backstage this whole ti-" Your voice is soft, trying to quell the fury in his gaze.

"Liar!" He steps closer to you, causing you to back away. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "You weren't watching. When I was offstage, I looked for you behind the curtains. But you were never there." He's now right in front of you, grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut. "All those training sessions, all those late nights memorizing my lines till it felt like my head was going to burst, all the blood, sweat and tears- It was all for you!" His breathing is heavy and his voice is a low growl, his light tan skin flushed with anger.

"Aurelius, I...I had no idea..." Your voice trails off, eyes gazing into his with regret. "But, I did watch! It's just that near the end I got a phone call, so I had to leave the theatre to pick it up and I got distracted!"

"I don't need your excuses." He spat, glaring down at you. "I understand. I get that I'm just another actor you have to work with; you're just here for the paycheck. And that's fine!" He backs up, a deranged smile on his face. "But could you at least pretend that you care? Just a bit?"

"I do care! why wouldn't I care, I've been working with you on this for months! Please, no need to get so upset." Your words cut through him like a knife, and his eyes widen with disbelief.

"'No need to get so upset'?! How can you even say that right now?! I've put so many hours into this, spent so much time on this all for your approval, and when the day finally comes you don't even stay to watch?! I'm not just upset, I'm-" he takes a deep breath, shaking slightly. "Heartbroken."

"Aurelius, please, listen to me. The reason why I couldn't stay is because I got a call from my best friend, and they sounded really upset, so I needed to go help them... I'm sorry."

He turns towards you, a look of cold, pure, disbelief on his face. His eyes widen as he mutters something under his breath. The room is so quiet that even though he whispered, you could hear every word clearly.

"You missed my show...for someone else?" He takes a step back. "You missed my show...because someone told you to?" The silence is thick between the two of you, the same deranged smile appearing on his face. He chuckles, his laughter becoming louder and more insane. "Are you serious?! After all that time we spent working, you left me for your friend?!" Tears roll down his face, smearing his makeup. He stumbles back into the sound table and clutches onto it while trying to regain his composure.

"Auri, you have to understand! It was an emergency, I had no other choice!" The desperation in your voice is evident, you need him to realize the severity of the situation. You walk up to him and hesitantly place a hand on his shoulder. Your breath hitches in your throat when he smacks your hand away, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers over his eyes.

"Don't," His voice is shaky, yet still cold and unforgiving. "Don't touch me. You don't deserve to after what you've done. I know how much I mean to you now, I don't need your lame explanations." He straightens up before walking out the door, standing in the frame for a second. "Bandaids don't fix bullet holes." He departs with a swish of his hair, leaving you standing alone in the now deathly quiet sound booth.

He grabs his stuff, slipping a small object into his bag as he hurriedly exits the theatre, wiping off his smudged makeup. He doesn't even take the time to change out of his costume, his brain is too panicked to even think about anything except what you said.

"Excuse me, you work with y/n right?" A person with a panicked expression walks up to him, biting their nails worriedly. His angry expression immediately changes to one of calmness.

"Yes, I do. why do you ask?" He puts on his signature winning smile as he bends down to their height.

"Well, I was with them earlier when they said they had to leave, and they didn't even tell me where before they just left! I know they work here, so I was wondering if you've seen them?" Your friend seems really troubled at your sudden disappearance, but Aurelius had other things on his mind.

"Actually, I think I have an idea of where they might be. Follow me!" His charming disposition and comfortable aura would make anyone follow him without question, including your friend. They started to walk together, the silence between them tense because of the worry that accompanied it. He lead them up and down roads, into busy lanes and quiet walkways. Eventually, they landed in front of a large forest.

"Wait... this is their favourite forest! You're a genius, I don't know why I didn't think to come here sooner!" Aurelius looked at your friend with exquisitely veiled contempt, their eyes shining with hope disgusting him.

"Oh, really?" He feigns surprise, not wanting to give away his true intentions just yet. "I didn't know! I just remember seeing them come here one time after work, I didn't know it was their favourite." He was lying. He knew everything about you. Your coffee order, the route you took home after work every day, the position in which you slept, everything. "Shall we head in?" He asked politely, extending a hand toward them. They nodded, walking into the dimly lit forest.

"I don't think I got your name, sorry."

He scoffs inwardly, berating them in his mind. "How do you not know my name? Me, the Aurelius Yavuz? You should be able to tell from one glance alone!" He thought, but he responded kindly regardless. "It's Aurelius. Aurelius Yavuz. And you?"

"Carmen! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yavus!" The way your friend sounds so cheerful disgusts him.

"Likewise," he mumbles, his voice sounding slightly pompous from their ignorance of his status. He brings their attention elsewhere, just wanting to get this whole ordeal over and done with as soon as possible. "I think I heard a noise over that way, would you like to check it out?" He points towards a dark corner of the forest with a small clearing in the middle.

"That looks like their hiding spot...yes, I think they might be there! quick!" Carmen starts to run into the thicket of trees, leaving Aurelius behind. In the dim light of the evening sun peeking through the trees, his eyes glow with a menacing aura. A confident smirk makes its way onto his face as he follows behind them. He pulls a small knife out of his bag, the shining metal glinting in the light.

"Aurelius...they're...not here..." Carmen's disappointed voice emanates through the forest. He slowly walks toward them, the satisfied look on his face making him seem even more insane than before.

"Aww, now isn't that a shame~?" He steps even closer, now almost nose-to-nose with them. "Don't worry," He brings his arm behind their shoulder, placing his hand right behind their neck. "You won't have to even think about them anymore." In a flash, Carmen collapses to the ground, the once pristine silver knife now tainted with potent red sin.

He dusts off his hand, wiping the blood on the knife onto the backside of his costume. He scoffs as he looks down onto the now still body of your beloved friend, kicking their body into the bushes beside him. He walks away and out of the forest, taking the same path you always take to your residence. He stops in front of your house, knocking on the door. He takes a deep breath and forcefully makes his eyes look teary, needing every tactic he knows to make you believe him. You open the door, stepping back when you see him.

"Aurelius, why are you-"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that. I just...was so upset, I thought this show meant something to you! But, I understand that you have your priorities, so I'm not mad anymore. Forgive me?" He gazes into your eyes, false tears now pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Auri..." You embrace him tightly, crying into his chest. "I'm so sorry! I should've stayed, I should've watched, I didn't mean to hurt you that bad, I'm sorry!" You can't see his face as you're sobbing into his shirt, not able to see the knowing smirk on his lips. He pats your head kindly, cooing at you to help you calm down.

"Hey, hey, don't cry... it's okay now. Everything's been taken care of, now it's just you," he kisses the top of your head, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a sharp glint flashes through his eyes.

"and me."

taglist!! @lasagna-goob @izizzl @skylark144 @cyphertryagain

#zain>>works #tw yandere #tw obsessive love #tw murder #tw blood ment #yandere blog #yandere writing #soft yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

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skelliko · 4 months

Text

Tokyo revengers |°- sudden first kiss

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji, Inui, rindou

°- kazutora hanemiya

• sometimes you both get playful with each other, playful insults or sarcasm, playful acts that consist of annoying each other in so many ways, or playfully fighting with each other that always result in either one of you tickling the other or falling over each other till one of you is pinned on the ground. though usually that play fighting is done indoors.

• today was supposed to be a day where the both of you simply relax a little due to running from certain people that had to be avoided. but nope, you had a little different plan because how could you resist being a little nuisance to try and feel better about the situation you're both in, and what other way to do that than by having a little play fight?

• sure kazutora has a higher winning streak but it still causes some laughter and energy. though when he had you pinned with your back on the floor, the eye contact that you both had held was new, well no, but the thoughts behind kazutora's mind was new leading to the eye contact feeling odd.

• his hands that held your wrists down, he loosened his grip by a lot in a way that if you wanted to leave you could, easily. he didn't say anything but the silence spoke for itself after when he leaned his face down and carefully connected his lips to yours.

°- Chifuyu matsuno

• he knows about some people that like to put you down and make you feel miserable, he takes consideration into that and always tries to soothe you in hopes of making you feel better whenever some piece of shit likes to mess with you. he hasn't done anything to them because when chifuyu stated multiple of times that he'll beat respect into them you always tried to make him drop the whole idea. despite him wanting to so bad, he still listened to your request and kept his fists hidden in his pockets when walking past the people.

• he was rarely present whenever they would say something to you but when he was he'd throw snarks at them and make them shut up using words, however today was different. he couldn't stand it no more so once a single peep came out of one of the dudes aiming at you it make chifuyu tick.

• throwing a punch right across his face to make sure he bites down on his words but it of course caused a fight between chifuyu and the small group. he won with a few bruises here and there but that was to be expected, what wasn't was what he did after.

• before you can even utter the words 'are you okay?!' or even make sure that Chifuyu is okay or maybe even scold him a little at the end, he takes hold of your face with both hands carefully and presses a kiss onto your lips.

°- Keisuke baji

• sometimes his fights with other gangs get out of hand, and I dont mean just a broken bone or some bloody scabs but i mean it as in his life could be on the line. which is always considered when taking part in a gang fight.

• you're the one who he thinks about whenever he goes off to break people's noses, oddly enough. you're the one that has made him to be more cautious and careful when fighting, making sure he gets out still standing to see your smile.

• though something didn't sit right with him before going to join the group, you were on his mind but it felt like he had to do or say something to you. you knew of the fight but was that really all you had to know? Keisuke being alone, pondered a little standing stuck in the middle of a pathway when he was on his way to meet his group.

• it was like a small adrenaline rush, not just because of the events that will play out soon but because you give him energy without even being there. motivation.

• he ran in the direction of where you live without wasting any more time and knocked on your door, hoping that you answer soon. once he saw the door open and you appear, he took a second or two to think but without wanting to stay silent too long his next decision was to invade your personal space, slide a hand behind your upper back to support you and lean in to connect your lips together. a kiss before battle.

°- seishu Inui

• he'd usually end a day off with some minor teasing after hanging out, either by trying to make you blush and shy away or seeing how bold you can get. though a lot of the time those teasings are him annoying you with little harmless acts.

• he'd try and inconvenience you in the most minor ways like misplacing something or taking your pens and pencils and having you to earn your way in getting them back which could be done by saying 'please' after being told to or be sneaky and catch him off guard. he sometimes likes games like that.

• though in this particular time he decided to take advantage of his height and snatch something off from your hands making you try and reach for it, getting all close to him with both arms in the air but he keeps moving the item from one hand to the other and left to right and down and up making you to lose eyesight on the item for a second but by the time you try to reach for it inui moved his arm back up into the air.

• and then he kissed you. while you were getting so close to him in hopes of reaching for the item he couldn't help but focus on your face and those lips. his mind was completely blank when he suddenly leaned in but his heart knew what he secretly wanted.

°- rindou haitani

• usually he's good at maintaining his jealousy, sure he feels it often but he's able to die it down knowing that there's full trust between you two

• however, this time it was a little different. what would one do if they were on their way to meet their date and at the meeting spot they see the date having, by what appears to be, a lovely conversation with 3 young gentleman?

• okay, for most it may be a big deal, but for some it's a 'sure whatever, let me just go over there and move on'. in rindou's case it's both. he knew he shouldn't worry much, to start off there's three guys, not that many groups are willing to all try and hit on the same girl. and what if his date actually knows the guys as mutuals? nah that one ain't right, cross that point out because one of the guys is getting way too close for his liking.

• so rindou did the first thing that came to his mind. to go right over there, slide his sneaky and quick hands around your waist and kiss you right there and then in front of the guys, lips to lips.

• serves the group to try and think that someone as pretty as you to be single.

♡----

#tokyo revengers #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora #kazutora x reader #baji keisuke #baji #baji x reader #chifuyu x reader #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu #tokyo revengers x reader #inui seishu #inupi seishu #inupi #seishu x reader #rindou haitani #rindou #rindou x reader

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chrisgirly4l · 4 months

Text

Fantasies

dom C.S x sub reader

summary- Chris finds out about your sexual fantasies with him in your journal.

Word count- 1033

a/n- This is my first fanfic I've ever written so I'm sorry if it isn't good I tried lol.

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

"y/n, for this project you will be partners with Christopher" your English teacher says with a smirk on her face, almost like she did this on purpose. Putting the quiet girl with the most popular guy in school.

Chris looks at you from across the classroom as his friends laugh and make fun of him for getting a "bad" partner.

After everyone gets assigned their person he walks over to you, pushing the nearest empty desk beside yours. You look down at your lap and fidget with your hands trying to avoid eye contact.

"hey, so I guess we're partners..." Chris says awkwardly. "yeah, I guess we are." you mutter quietly. The silence between you two lingers uncomfortably, though the rest of the class is conversing at full volume.

Chris finally decides to break the silence by saying "do you know what we're supposed to do, I wasn't really listening." You roll your eyes and reply sarcastically "clearly. All we have to do is make a slideshow about the book we read, you did read the book right?" He looks at you with a lopsided smile and sheepishly says "I was kinda hoping you did.." After exchanging numbers and summarizing the book for him class was over, finally.

If you didn't think so before it was now confirmed that this was going to be a shit show. A total complete shit show.

Later that night as you laid down to go to sleep, you couldn't help but think about Chris. The way he ran his fingers through his hair, his kind, genuine voice, and his blue eyes that almost seem to twinkle when he smiles. You start to overthink the situation, Do I have a crush on him? Does he have a crush on me? No, it isn't possible there's no way i'm falling for a guy I've only talked to once!

Since your thoughts were barring you from sleep, you decided to do what always helps you relax, journaling. Though it may seem like a stupid hobby, you've done it for as long as you can remember. It's never failed you and you know it won't fail you now.

You lay stomach down, pen in hand on your bed and begin to write, after what feels like a short period of time you check your phone and you've been writing for close to an hour! When you go to read back the many pages, you realize what was supposed to help convince you why having a crush on king of the cafeteria was not a good idea, was really just you spilling all of your most sexual fantasies you've imagined with him.

Walking into English the next day you pull out the same journal to write down all your homework you have to do tonight. Chris takes a seat next you, your shoulders brushing slightly, but the touch enough to make your heart skip a beat. While your distracted your journal falls off your desk, on the floor directly beside him, the pages flipping one back onto your entry from last night! You quickly reach to pick it up, but he already has is and has started scanning the page. "woah! who's this about, I guess your not so innocent after all." he says with a smirk clearly trying to tease you. "shut up Chris, just give it back!" but it's too late by the time you get your sentence out, he read his name at the bottom.

You stare at him anxiously waiting for his reaction, but instead he puts the notebook down and walks out of the classroom silently. You cover your face with your hands, utterly embarrassed when your phone dings, It's from Chris "Bathroom, now" You gawk at the screen, not even able to believe what your reading. Nevertheless you get up and walk to the bathroom.

Hesitantly, you push open the restroom door, and scan the room. You don't see him or anyone else, for that matter. You walk down the line of stalls till you're swiftly pulled into the handicap one at the end of the line. Without delay he immediately holds you against the wall, his knee in between your legs and his lips planted on yours.

You pause before relaxing into the kiss, your body pressed against his and your hands sliding into his hair. He slips his tongue into your mouth gently, gaining intensity gradually. Your body heats up as the realization hits you that your making out with the Christopher Sturniolo, one of the most sought after guys at school!

While deep in thought Chris whispers in a gravelly tone "Wanna make those fantasies come true?" Your face turns bright red as you slowly nod before his lips come down to your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin, leaving dark bruises, and causing you to whimper faintly. Steadily, he slides his hand under the waistband of your pants, leisurely rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb. You look into his eyes, your moans pleading for more. He quickens his motions and palms your ass, your whines only getting louder.

Suddenly, echos of the bathroom door swinging open spread across the whole room, startling both you and Chris, but instead of stopping the lustful act, he covers your mouth and slams two slender fingers into you. You gasp under his hand with suprise and pleasure, as he begins to finger you at a moderate pace. "You're such a slut, letting me finger you at school, now shut up and take it like I know you can." He whispers seductively, his lips moving back to yours, the kiss needier than the first, his hands accelerating pace inside you. Your muscles tighten around his fingers "I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off with your orgasm, pressing your face into his shoulder while squirming under his touch.

The bathroom door slams shut, as Chris pulls out and chuckles "You did so good for me baby." You blush at the praise and nickname. "...thank you?" You instantly feel embarrassed at your reply, but the feeling quickly subsides when Chris smiles at you and leads you out of the bathroom at the bell.

"Same time tomorrow?"

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #the sturniolos #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

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hockey-fics · 4 months

Text

That Week in Vancouver ~ Quinn Hughes

(Pt. 2 of That Night in Michigan)

"You can just keep believing whatever you want to believe if it makes you feel better about the way you treated me."

Word count: ~11,800

Warnings: some toxic behaviours (primarily arguing), drinking, language, smut.

A/N: there is a small potential for a part three, I have an idea for it but it depends on how motivated I am to keep going with this as a series. It's already gotten much longer than I ever intended it to.

“Do you have time to talk?”

There’s a silence that falls over the line that makes your heart race, your hands growing clammy. He had answered the phone at the very least, you had to hold onto some hope that he would be willing to have a conversation. It wasn’t a big ask, you didn’t need all day. You just needed a few minutes, a few minutes that could determine the outcome of your entire relationship.

“Quinn?” you whisper, unable to sit in the silence for any longer.

“I don’t really have time,” Quinn tells you, his voice distant and cold.

“Oh,” you mumble, your eyes prickling with tears. “When, um…when would you have time?”

“I don’t know,” Quinn replies quickly. “Things are kind of busy right now.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you blink quickly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears coming to your eyes. “Quinn, please,” you plead.

“Sorry,” Quinn mumbles. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he croaks, the first indication that this wasn’t as easy for him as he was making it seem.

Before you have the chance to say anything else the call ends, your heart sinking with it. Pulling your knees to your chest you feel a few tears slip from your eyes. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. Wiping the tears from your face with your sleeve you struggle through a few deep breaths, your breath catching in your throat each time. Was this really how it was going to end? A lifetime of friendship. Years of feelings. All of that to end without so much as a conversation.

You don’t know how long you sit there until eventually your body is so exhausted from crying that you climb off the couch, heading straight to bed. At least if you were asleep you could silence the never-ending stream of thoughts about you and Quinn. It doesn’t take long till you fall asleep that night, sleeping till late the next morning.

When you finally pull yourself out of bed you take a shower, your body numb as you go about some sort of normal routine, unsure of what else to do. Standing in front of the coffee maker in your kitchen you stare at the drops of coffee splashing into the slowly filling pot. Your phone vibrates on the counter beside you and you glance over at it, opening the text message from Luke.

‘if I get a dog would you look after it when we’re on the road?’

Sighing you read the message before locking your phone, setting it back down again to pour yourself a mug of coffee. As you’re stirring some cream into it you hear your phone vibrate again.

‘at least turn your read receipts off if you’re going to ignore me’

Picking up your phone you quickly send him a message back. ‘sorry, just not having a great day’.

A second later your screen is filled with an incoming FaceTime call from Luke. Groaning quietly you slide to answer it as you walk into the living room. “Hi,” you say quietly, flopping down onto the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, skipping past a greeting.

“Nothing,” you mumble, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket that was tossed over the back of your couch. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Alright,” Luke drawls, clearly not convinced. “So will you look after my dog?”

You can’t help but giggle, rolling your eyes. Luke was always there for you when things weren’t going well, even if he didn’t always know the appropriate responses to your emotions. “I don’t know if you’re even responsible enough to take care of a dog when you are home.”

“I am,” Luke defends quickly. “I just have to feed him and walk him.”

“And train him and brush him and take him to the vet and the dog groomer and make sure he’s getting enough exercise.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do all that,” Luke says with a shrug. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Sure,” you say with a quiet laugh. “I’ll look after him when you’re on the road if you get a dog.”

“Thank you,” Luke replies, smiling happily. “Now tell me why you’re so sad.”

Sighing loudly you toss your head back dramatically, staring up at the ceiling. “Quinn won’t talk to me,” you state quickly, knowing that if you didn’t just say it you wouldn’t be able to get the words out. “I called him last night, he won’t talk to me.”

“What did he say?”

“Literally nothing,” you mumble. “He said he didn’t have time to talk and he’s too busy to talk later.”

“He’s just upset about you and Holtzy,” Luke explains, as if you were completely in the dark as to why Quinn didn’t want to talk to you.

“I know, Luke, I’m not an idiot,” you exclaim, eyes flooding with tears again. “Sorry…I just…I don’t know what to do. I miss him.” Reaching up you quickly wipe away the tears that had pooled under your eyes.

“I know,” Luke mutters, nodding slowly. “Are you doing anything today?”

“Not really,” you tell him honestly, shrugging it off quickly.

“Get ready, I’m going to pick you up.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere, Luke,” you mutter, sighing quietly.

“You just want to sit there and cry alone all day?”

“Oh my god,” you whine, shaking your head. “Leave me alone.”

“I’ll be there in like forty-five minutes,” Luke tells you, hanging up before you can argue against it.

Sighing you pull yourself off the couch, finding an outfit for whatever this mysterious outing was. You busy yourself getting ready until Luke texts you, telling you he was there. Hurrying out of your apartment you find him idling on the street in front of your apartment building, hopping into his car. “Hi,” you greet, pulling your seatbelt on.

“Hey,” Luke replies, waiting till you were situated in your seat before pulling back out onto the road. “Do you want like a coffee or something?”

“You’re trying really hard, aren’t you?” you tease, giggling quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to be sad,” Luke tells you. “But if you keep making fun of me I might stop.”

“No, please don’t,” you laugh. “Yeah, I’d love a coffee.”

Luke takes you to your favourite coffee shop, after you gave him step by step instructions of how to get there. With a latte in hand you climb back into Luke’s car, still unsure of where he was planning to take you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” Luke tells you with a mischievous smile.

“I’m scared,” you joke, taking a sip of your coffee as you look out the window, trying to figure out where you could possibly be headed.

Shortly after Luke pulls into the parking lot of a large building, your eyes focusing on the sign out front. “You’re unbelievable,” you laugh, looking at the animal shelter in front of you.

“Come on, you know that seeing dogs is going to cheer you up.”

You follow Luke out of the car and towards the building. “We’re not leaving here with a dog, Luke,” you warn, stepping inside as Luke holds the door open for you.

After talking briefly with the woman at the front counter she guides you through the building to the dog kennels. “Looking to expand the family?” she asks with a friendly smile.

“What?” Luke asks cluelessly.

“No…we’re not, um, we’re-,” you begin.

“Ew,” Luke mutters.

Looking over at him you narrow your eyes, scoffing. “Well you don’t have to act like it would be disgusting,” you joke. “We’re just friends, he’s looking for a dog, I’m just the designated pet-sitter.”

“Well it’s always good to have a pet-sitter lined up,” she says uncertainly. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to take a look, let me know if you have any questions.”

Walking over to one of the kennels you look at the tag on the door, reading it over. “Muffins,” you gush, looking at the small dog in the kennel. “His name is Muffins,” you repeat.

“Muffins is ugly,” Luke mutters from behind you, staring at the little dog with scraggly fur, bulging eyes, tear stains on his white fur. Reaching over you playfully whack Luke’s arm. “Don’t be mean to Muffins,” you scold.

“Look at this one,” Luke says, drawing your attention away from Muffins and to the large lab in the next kennel over.

“You’re so predictable,” you tease, reading the description of Dewey the lab. The two of you wander along the rows of kennels, fighting against falling in love with each and every one of the dogs. By the time you were leaving that afternoon you were covered in dog fur, no longer quite as sad as you had been when you woke up that morning.

Sitting in the car with Luke he scrolls through the pictures that he had taken of the dogs, clearly wanting to go back in and adopt one right then and there. Leaning over you look through the pictures with him, stopping him when he gets to a picture he took of you and one of the puppies. “Can you send that to me?”

“So you can post it on instagram?” Luke teases.

“Shut up,” you wine, rolling your eyes. “Yes.”

Luke chuckles, sending you the picture before setting his phone down. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who dragged me out.” Saving the photo to your phone you open instagram, adding the picture to your story with the caption ‘puppies really do make bad days better’, tagging Luke in the corner.

“You’re so dramatic,” Luke says, pulling out of the parking lot. “Are you still going to pretend you didn’t have fun?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Thank you, Luke…I do feel a bit better.”

“Good.” Luke turns down another street, seemingly on the way back to your apartment. “Quinn’s just an idiot,” Luke says suddenly. “He’ll come around, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, glancing over at Luke. “I think this is different.”

“Why?”

Shrugging you look down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. “Because he’s never been like this before. He’s never been mean to me before, he’s never said things like…that.”

“What did he say?”

“He basically called me a whore…I mean, not directly, but it was easy enough to figure out what he meant. He said that I don’t think about anyone other than myself and that he’s done with me.”

Luke is quiet for a few seconds before looking over at you when he stops at a red light. “What?” he finally mutters.

“Yeah,” you whisper, sniffling quietly. “Maybe it really is just time to move on. I just…I love him so much, I don’t know…it’s hard.”

“He’s an asshole,” Luke mutters under his breath. “I didn’t know that’s what he said to you,” Luke admits.

“I didn’t really want to talk about it,” you tell him with a shrug. “I mean, I guess maybe he’s right, maybe I was flirting with everyone, I don’t know. I’d take it all back, it never even meant anything to me, I didn’t realize it was affecting him like that…I just…I just want him back. Maybe things will never be more than they were before, maybe we’re not meant to be together or anything but to lose him altogether, as a friend…I can’t handle that.” You hadn’t even realized how quick your breathing had grown, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping the tears from your face.

“You’re fine,” Luke assures you, glancing over with a smile so full of pity that it makes you want to hurl yourself out of the car. “Can I, um, can I do anything to help?”

Choking out a breath of laughter between your shaky breaths you shake your head. “No, I don’t think anyone can do anything to help.”

Luke turns into the parking lot of your apartment building, pulling into one of the visitor spots. “Well can I at least come hang out for a bit?”

“I’m not going to say no,” you tell him, picking your purse up from the floor of his car. “But you really don’t have to stay just because I’m sad.”

“You know that I actually like spending time with you, right? I don’t know why you’re acting like I’m doing you a favour.”

“I just don’t think that I’m that fun to be around right now.” Climbing out of his car you fish your keys from your purse, guiding Luke into the building.

“Remember when I had the flu and you spent like a week taking care of me?” Luke asks as he watches you press the button for the elevator. “Was I fun then?”

“I mean it was kinda funny,” you say with a playful smile. “I would never have expected a little flu to take you down so easily.”

“It was bad,” Luke defends, chuckling as he leans against the wall of the elevator.

A few minutes later the doors slide open and you guide Luke to your apartment, kicking off your shoes and heading for the couch. Luke joins you a minute later, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “What do you want to watch?”

“You’re actually going to let me pick?” you ask in shock.

“You’re the one who’s sad,” Luke reminds you, handing the remote to you.

You pick your favourite show on Netflix, pulling your legs up onto the couch and curling up in the corner. You watch the show in silence for a few minutes before looking over at Luke, watching him type something on his phone. “Do you think he ever loved me?” you whisper, a feeling of shame washing over you for even asking the question, of wanting that reassurance.

Luke is quiet for a minute, as if he wasn’t sure how he should reply, like you were a ticking time bomb waiting for the next thing to set you off. “Yes.”

Nodding slowly you turn your attention back to the tv, your vision blurry as you stare through a layer of tears. You didn’t know what else to say, didn’t want to talk about anything else yet you didn’t want to talk about it either. So you remained silent, watching episode after episode till you were beginning to drift to sleep.

“Hey,” Luke whispers, gently shaking your shoulder.

Inhaling sharply your eyes fly open, glancing around in a tired shock. “Hm?” you hum. “What time is it?…How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours,” Luke tells you with a shrug. “I’m going to go home now though, I have practice in the morning. Do you want to come? I’ll give you my bed again.”

Shaking your head you sit up, blinking tiredly. “No, no, that’s okay…thank you though.”

“Are you sure? Are you going to be okay alone?”

“Luke, I’m fine,” you assure him, swinging your legs off the edge of the couch. Standing up you pull him into a hug, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming over today. Text me when you get home, okay?”

Luke waits for you to pull away first before saying goodbye, heading out to drive back to his place. After waking up a bit more you find something for dinner, calling your best friend to talk, needing to get out of your head. You end up talking with her for most of the evening before heading to bed rather early, the intense emotions of the last couple days catching up with you.

The next morning you wake up early, trying to keep yourself busy so that you didn’t fall into the same sadness that you felt the day before. You couldn’t spend the rest of your life wallowing. After having breakfast you take your coffee and grab your laptop, heading to the living room to sit on the couch. You pay a few bills before opening your email, your eyes narrowing in on one email from 1:46am.

Flight Confirmation.

Nervously clicking on it you scroll down, confusion building when you see that it was indeed a flight booked under your name. Then your eyes fall to the destination. Vancouver. Glancing at the date you realize it’s for next weekend, your heart racing.

Picking up your phone you dial the number of the only person you thought would be buying you a flight to Vancouver. You listen to the dial tone for so long you begin to wonder if he wasn’t going to answer at all.

“Hi?” Quinn mutters, his voice groggy and tired.

Looking at the clock you realize how early it still was in Vancouver. “Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“It’s fine,” Quinn mumbles. “Did you get the email?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your eyes not leaving the screen of your laptop. “Why?”

“Because I’m sorry,” Quinn says quietly. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole to you, I shouldn’t have treated you like that and I want to see you. If the date doesn’t work I can change the flight, just let me know when, I figured you have weekends off so I thought it would be better to pick a weekend but I know the flight is Friday morning so if you can’t leave that day I can just-.”

“This weekend is perfect,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry too, Quinn, I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn assures you. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you reply, not expecting your voice to grow shaky in the way it did. “I can let you get back to sleep now.”

“No, it’s okay, I was going to get up soon anyway.”

“Okay,” you whisper, still staring at the flight details on your laptop screen. “You didn’t need to buy me a first-class ticket, Quinn.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Quinn tells you quietly. “You’re going to let Luke get a dog?”

You can’t help but laugh at the question, pushing your laptop off your lap and curling up on the couch, staring out the window across the room. “I can’t really stop him…you’re his big brother though, maybe you should talk him out of it,” you tell him. “How long has he been talking about this?”

“Not long,” Quinn mumbles. “We talked yesterday.”

“Oh,” you whisper, wondering if wanting a dog was the only thing that Luke talked to Quinn about. “About a dog?”

Quinn is quiet for a little too long, your palms growing clammy, realizing that the answer probably wasn’t yes. “About you,” Quinn finally admits. “I um, I saw the Instagram story and called him. I just, uh…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And he told you I’m not?” you ask, though it was more of a statement than a question.

“Not exactly,” Quinn replies. “He did make sure that I knew I was an asshole…not that I didn’t already know that.”

“If you already knew that why have you been refusing to talk to me, Quinn?”

Quinn sighs heavily, silence falling over the line. “Because I was hurt,” Quinn mumbles. “I was hurt and jealous and I don’t know…I just didn’t want to admit that. I’m sorry.”

You wanted to forgive him, wanted to tell him that it was okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay the way he treated you in Michigan, it wasn’t okay the way that the situation had played out since. Dismissing it, telling him it was fine, you knew that wasn’t going to help the situation. You needed to talk about it, to really discuss it. Maybe he was right in booking you the flight, maybe this just wasn’t a conversation that you could have over the phone.

“What should I pack for Vancouver?” you whisper, doing your best to change the topic.

Quinn hesitates a moment, clearly taken aback by the 180 degree change in the conversation. He tells you the plan for the weekend, primarily just that he had a game on Saturday, though he assured you that you didn’t need to go if you didn’t want to. You told him you did, making a mental note to add an outfit to wear to the game to your list.

You talked on the phone for nearly an hour before Quinn had to go, not wanting to be late for practice. You spend the rest of the day preparing for the week ahead, grocery shopping, meal prepping, laundry, all the chores that kept your mind busy.

The week went by slowly, each work day feeling never-ending. The closer you got to your 6am Friday flight the closer your anxiety gets to overtaking your excitement. Of course you wanted to see Quinn, wanted to make up for the months of not even speaking to each other. But you also knew that the point of this trip was to talk about what had happened, a conversation you were dreading having.

Friday morning you wake up at 4am, collecting your luggage and climbing into an Uber half asleep. You’re not fully awake till you’re on the plane, the six hours ahead of you seeming like they were going to stretch on forever.

By the time you landed in Vancouver your heart was hammering so heavily you were worried you might just drop dead of a heart attack right then and there. Your hands were shaky and clammy as you wiggled your carry-on out of the overhead compartment. You follow everyone off the plane, down the long hallway and to the arrivals area of the airport.

Weaving your way through everyone around you stopping to greet their loved ones your eyes scan the crowd of people still waiting. When your eyes land on Quinn you nearly stop walking altogether, your heart stopping for a moment. Three months of not even talking to him made it feel like years of not seeing him. Hesitantly you force yourself closer, not knowing what to expect when you get to him. But as soon as you’re close enough Quinn has his arms around you, pulling you close against him.

“Hi,” you whisper, fingers curling into the fabric of Quinn’s hoodie.

“Hi,” Quinn replies, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “How was your flight?”

“Really good,” you reply. “I’ve never flown first-class before.”

“I’ll make sure you only ever fly first-class from now on.”

“Stop,” you giggle, shaking your head. “A seat on a flight is good enough for me…especially if it means I get to see you.”

“I love you,” Quinn whispers in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. You had been telling each other you loved each other since childhood. In the same way that you told Jack and Luke that you loved them. But your love for Quinn was so different and you weren’t sure what his admission of love entailed. “Should we go get your suitcase?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, nodding quickly, thankful that Quinn had said something to break you from your train of thoughts. Heading to the baggage carousel you wait till you see your suitcase, dragging it off the carousel.

Quinn swoops in quickly, taking your bag from you. “Ready to go?” Quinn asks, gesturing towards the door.

Nodding you follow Quinn through the airport and out into the cool air outside, rain drops hammering onto the sidewalk. “People weren’t lying about how much it rains here,” you comment.

“You can wait here, I’ll bring the car around,” Quinn offers.

Shaking your head you step closer to Quinn. “No, it’s just rain, I’ll survive.”

Quinn slides his jacket off quickly, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your eyes locking with his as he keeps his hands on the jacket wrapped around you. You slide your arms into the sleeves when you realize Quinn is not about to take the jacket back. “Thank you,” you tell him, pulling the fabric around your body. The jacket smells like Quinn, his body wash or cologne or maybe just his laundry detergent, but whatever it was it was it felt comforting, familiar.

Quinn picks up your suitcase again and you follow him through the parking lot, quickly climbing into the dry car. Quinn is in the driver’s seat a moment later, starting the car before looking over at you. “Thanks for coming.”

“I just want to figure this out,” you say quietly, pulling your seatbelt on. Glancing over at Quinn for a moment before you turn your attention back to the drops of rain landing on the windshield. “I can’t lose you, Quinn.”

Quinn reaches over, his hand sliding into yours, squeezing it gently. “I know I fucked up, but I promise you that I’m not going anywhere.”

Sniffling quietly you nod slowly, not entirely sure you believed him. Sure, you were here with him now. But it seemed so easy for him just weeks ago, to tell you that he simply didn’t have any time to talk.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn adds, squeezing your hand again before shifting the car into drive, pulling out of the parking spot.

You remain silent through the entirety of the drive, your mind racing with thoughts that brought tears to your eyes. You knew what was coming. You knew you needed to have a real conversation about what had happened in Michigan, about what was going to happen now. But you didn’t know how it would go, didn’t know what Quinn would say about it, and you were scared that somehow, someway, it would only make things worse.

When you get to Quinn’s apartment building you follow him inside, sliding his jacket off your body and hanging it in the closet by the door. You had never been to his apartment before, almost all of your time together was spent in Michigan.

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat or drink?” Quinn asks, walking into the kitchen.

Shaking your head you rest your hands on the counter, looking over at him. “I think we should talk.”

Quinn nods, sighing quietly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, nodding towards the living room. “Should we go sit down?”

“Sure.” Turning around you walk to the living room, sitting on one end of the large couch. Lifting your legs onto the couch you pull them to your chest, wrapping your arms around them in an attempt to comfort yourself. “I don’t really know what to say,” you admit.

“Me neither,” Quinn agrees, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, eyes focusing on the living room floor. “I know it’s not an excuse but I was so drunk that night,” Quinn begins, glancing over at you. “And I see the way people look at you, the way everyone just falls for you, which I get, but, I don’t know…it’s hard. Seeing you with Alex that day, on the dock, I was jealous,” Quinn rambles.

Nodding slowly you dig your fingers into your legs, forcing deep breaths into your lungs. “But you didn’t have to be so mean to me, Quinn. We could have just talked about it.”

“I know,” Quinn replies quickly, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I don’t have an excuse, I was hurt and drunk.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you whisper, your eyes prickling with tears again. You had never cried so much in such a short period of time, had never expected to. “You know that, right?”

Quinn shrugs, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward to stare at the ground. “Yeah, I mean, I guess.”

“Quinn,” you croak. “What do you mean you guess? I promise the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.”

“Then why did you do it?” Quinn snaps, turning his head to look over at you.

“I-,” you begin, shaking your head. “I don’t know, I really didn’t mean to, nothing I said or did with them meant anything, it was just-.”

“No?” Quinn interrupts with a scoff. “Nothing you did with Alex meant anything?”

“It wasn’t-,” you begin before getting interrupted again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Quinn interjects. “I’m not that fucking stupid. I saw your stories with him, I know when you were going out with Jack and Luke that Alex was there too. I know you went home with him after you guys went out drinking. If you’re going to sit there and tell me that none of that meant anything then maybe none of the stuff you said to me meant anything either.”

“That’s not true,” you plead, eyes glossy with tears. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Quinn. I’m sorry, I really am. Yeah, Alex and I were hanging out but that doesn’t mean what I said to you wasn’t true.”

“If it was true you wouldn’t be fucking one of my friends,” Quinn mutters.

Swallowing heavily you wipe away your tears, shaking your head. “You’re such an asshole,” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m the asshole?” Quinn snaps.

“Yes,” you exclaim, dropping your legs off the couch and standing up quickly. “You called me a whore, Quinn. You said such horrible things and now you have the audacity to get mad at me when I started spending time with someone who actually was nice to me after all that.”

“I did not call you a whore,” Quinn defends, staring up at you from where he was still sitting on the edge of the couch. "I would never say that."

“Maybe you didn’t use that word but how do you think I would take you telling me that I’m flirting with everyone, that I want the attention of every single man around? Do you know how bad that hurt, Quinn? You’re telling me that you’re not sure if you believe I didn’t mean to hurt you but you’re not acknowledging how much you hurt me.”

Quinn is quiet for a few seconds, his eyes falling back to the ground, not looking you in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Maybe you should have thought about someone other than yourself then,” you tell him, repeating his words from that night in Michigan back to him. Maybe you shouldn’t be so petty. Maybe you should have been the bigger person. Maybe you should have let it go. But your heart was racing, your hands clammy, your mind scattered in a million directions and a part of you selfishly wanted him to feel the way you felt that night.

Quinn visibly flinches in response to your words, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry,” Quinn breathes out.

You were already on your way towards his front door, body moving faster than your mind. Grabbing your purse you toss it onto your shoulder, yanking the same jacket Quinn had let you wear earlier off the hanger in the closet.

“Where are you going?” Quinn asks, hopping up from the couch and hurrying over to you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, spinning towards the front door. Your hand lands on the door handle just seconds before Quinn is wrapping his hand around your wrist. “Don’t,” you mumble, yanking your hand away from him. “And for the record, I didn’t sleep with Alex. I’ve never fucked any of your friends. But you can just keep believing whatever you want to believe if it makes you feel better about the way you treated me.” Yanking the door open you head out into the hallway, finding the stairs and hurrying down them.

Outside the rain is still pouring heavily from the sky and you begin walking quickly, continuing till you find a coffee shop. Inside you pull the soaking jacket from your body, laying it over your arm and heading to the till. After ordering yourself a coffee you find a seat tucked away in the corner of the coffee shop, watching the cars passing, the rain drops bouncing off the sidewalk.

You’re not there long before your phone begins vibrating. First with a call from Quinn. Then a text message. Then a couple more calls and a few more texts. Sure, you probably should have replied, but your mind was still racing a million miles an hour. All of your thoughts were so incredibly cloudy that you didn't even know what to say if you were to reply.

Eventually, long after your coffee cup is empty, your phone rings and this time it’s Jack. Sighing you slide to answer it, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” Jack replies with an audible sigh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him honestly, fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on your paper cup.

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, Jack, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Quinn is freaking out,” Jack tells you. “Can you please just call him?”

“No,” you mumble, watching a man walking by with his dog, the dog’s hair plastered to their body with rain. “I want to come home, Jack.”

“Oh my god,” Jack groans. “You two are so fucking annoying.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper, glancing around to make sure nobody in the quiet coffee shop could hear you. “Why would you say that? I haven’t done anything.”

“Both of you need to get over what happened in Michigan,” Jack tells you.

“Tell him that,” you mutter, rolling your eyes to nobody but yourself at that table.

“I did,” Jack exclaims. There’s a few seconds of silence after he says it, unable to think of anything to say. Because he was right, you both needed to be honest. You both did and said things you wished you hadn’t, both made mistakes. “Do you want me to book you a flight home?” Jack finally asks.

“No, it’s okay…thank you though.”

“So are you going to go back to Quinn’s place or do you want me to book you a hotel room?”

“I could book my own hotel room if I wanted to,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

“You’re always complaining that you’re broke,” Jack comments.

“I know how much money you make, Jack, I’m broke in comparison.”

“I’m never buying you drinks again,” Jack replies with a chuckle.

“Please,” you say with a giggle.

“If you go talk to Quinn and figure out whatever is going on with you two and leave me out it, then I’ll consider buying your drinks when we go out again.”

“Fine,” you whine playfully. “What do I even say to him?”

“I don’t know, just go talk to him. I’m sure you two will figure it out.”

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“Why are you scared?” Jack asks, a sudden intensity in his tone.

“What if he never forgives me?”

“Just go talk to him,” Jack sighs. “He’s losing his mind right now, just go talk to him.”

“Fine, I’ll go back,” you groan. Standing up you pick up Quinn’s jacket from the back of the chair, pulling it on. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in this,” you tell Jack, picking up your empty coffee cup to toss it into the garbage on the way out the door.

“It’s fine,” Jack assures you. “Just figure this out, okay?”

“Okay…we’ll try,” you tell him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good luck,” Jack says.

“Thank you,” you say with a sigh, stepping outside. “Bye, Jack,” you say before hanging up. Hurrying through the rain you make your way back to Quinn’s apartment, stopping outside to text him to let him know you were back.

Quinn is down in the lobby a second later, letting you inside. “I’m sorry,” Quinn says as a greeting, reaching over and pulling you into his arms. Your jacket is soaked, seeping into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Let’s just go upstairs,” you mumble, though if you were being honest the last thing you wanted to do was let go of him.

Quinn pulls back, guiding you back into his apartment. You’re quiet as you pull off the jacket, kicking your shoes off a second later. Following Quinn back to the living room you slowly sit down, sighing quietly. “I talked to Jack.”

“I figured,” Quinn mumbles, sitting down across from you. “I’m really sorry.”

“Me too,” you mumble, looking across the couch at him. “I-,” you begin, eyes filling with tears again. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Quinn, I can’t lose you. I love you so much. I don’t know…I don’t know what to do.”

Quinn slides closer to you, pulling you into his arms. “I love you too,” Quinn tells you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Nodding slowly you clutch at Quinn’s arms, holding him tight against you. “I’m sorry for everything I did, everything I said. I promise I’ll never talk to you like that again. I don’t expect you to forgive me right now, I know what I did was horrible.”

“I do,” you whisper, pulling back to look up at him. “I do forgive you, Quinn. I know you’re sorry, I really do. I just need you to stop holding me flirting with other people over me. We weren’t together. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize the way it was making you feel, I really am. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I wasn’t doing it to make you feel bad.”

Quinn reaches down, taking your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “I know we weren’t together, I know you weren’t doing anything wrong and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, reaching up to wipe away a few tears that had slipped from your eyes. You weren’t even sure why you were crying anymore. Relief, exhaustion, an overwhelming level of emotions. “What now?”

Quinn shrugs, glancing over at the TV. “Do you want to go somewhere? Or do you want to just stay here and hang-out?”

“Stay here,” you tell him laughing quietly. You didn’t need a mirror to know that your eyes were swollen and red, that your skin was splotchy from all the tears you had shed. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Quinn assures you, reaching over and picking up the remote. He hands it to you before leaning back on the couch, watching as you turn the tv on. “We can order dinner too, just let me know when.”

Picking up your phone you look at the time. It had been a long day but you were still shocked to see that it was nearing 6pm already. You pick a show, watching an episode before the two of you order dinner. The rest of the evening goes by quickly, most of it spent in relative silence as you watch a few more episodes of the show you had put on.

Eventually Quinn shows you to the guest room and you change into some pyjamas before settling into the bed. You fall asleep easily that night. Maybe it really was just because the bed was so comfortable, but you’re sure there was more to it than that.

When you wake up the next morning Quinn is already gone for morning skate, a note on the kitchen counter letting you know he would be back that afternoon. The note also told you that there was coffee in the cupboard and to help yourself to anything else you wanted. You were almost certain he bought the coffee specifically for you, something you confirmed when you found it unopened in the cupboard. After making yourself a cup you head to the living room, watching TV while waiting for him to get home.

The sound of the front door opening draws your attention just a little after 12pm. “Hey,” Quinn greets, walking over to sit on the couch next to you. “How was your morning? I didn’t want to wake you before I left.”

“It was good, I slept in, that bed is really comfortable,” you tell him, moving closer and wrapping your arms around him. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his arms circle around you, pulling you closer.

“It’s not bad,” Quinn says with a chuckle. “My bed is better.”

“Are you bragging? Because I am your guest and that’s kind of rude,” you tease, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.

“Maybe a bit…but I’m not stopping you from sleeping in it with me so I don't think it's that rude.”

“I don’t know, the last time I slept in a bed with you seemed like the beginning of the whole disaster,” you joke.

“Too soon,” Quinn chuckles, shaking his head. He stands up and reaches down, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. “Come on.”

“Where?” you ask, though you’re in his bedroom before he has the chance to answer you. You watch him lay down on one side of the bed, gesturing for you to take the other side. Walking over you lay down beside him, rolling onto your side to face him. “It is really comfy,” you admit.

“I wasn’t lying,” he tells you with a chuckle. "I do need to have a nap before the game though."

"That's why you brought me in here? To break the new sthat you need to have a nap?"

"Kinda," Quinn admits. "And because I did actually want to brag about the bed."

Rolling your eyes playfully you sit up, looking down at him. "Okay, Grandpa. What 24-year-old gets this excited about a bed?"

"It was expensive," Quinn exclaims.

"I'm sure it was," you reply with a giggle. "Do you want me to tuck you in for your nap before I go or are you okay all by yourself?"

"Get outta here," Quinn jokes, shaking his head.

Giggling you climb off the bed, heading back to the living room to continue keeping yourself busy for the afternoon. It wasn't hard, after an episode of your favourite show you head to the bathroom, finding a towel and hopping into the shower. By the time you're out of the shower Quinn is already up, startling you as you step out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.

"You scared me," you breathe out, clutching the towel to your naked body.

"It's my apartment," Quinn says with a chuckle. "Why are you not expecting me to be here?"

"I thought you'd still be napping. Must need a lot of beauty sleep to look that cute," you tease, stepping past him towards the bedroom.

"We can't all just be naturally cute like you," he comments before you disappear behind the closed door of the guest bedroom. It was such an insignificant comment but you couldn't stop your stomach from filling with butterflies regardless.

Later that afternoon you're in the bathroom, running your fingers through your hair, fixing it slightly. Your eyes shift over your shoulder, seeing Quinn appear in the mirror behind you. Your lips curl into a soft smile, eyes drifting up and down his body. Quinn was always attractive to you but you were more used to Quinn in a t-shirt and shorts at the lake than Quinn in a suit before a game.

“You look good,” you tell him, turning around to look at him. Leaning back against the counter you watch Quinn walk closer. “Very handsome,” you add, running your fingers over the lapels of his suit jacket once he’s close enough to you.

“You look good too,” Quinn mumbles, his hands landing on your hips.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, swallowing heavily. “Can’t believe this is the first time I get to see you play in Vancouver.”

“Hopefully it won’t be the last,” Quinn replies, stepping close enough to cause your heart to hammer heavily in your chest. “You sure you’re going to be okay to get there alone tonight?”

“I’m positive,” you whisper, your eyes flicking down to his lips. Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest you were sure it was about to burst. “Good luck tonight,” you whisper.

Quinn smiles softly, leaning in a little closer. “Thank you,” he mumbles, his lips nearly brushing against yours. You could feel your breath catch in your throat, your hands running up his chest, resting you arms over his shoulders. Just seconds before your lips touch his your phone rings loudly on the counter beside you, making you jump.

Laughing you pull back, pressing your hand over your heart. “Oh my god,” you breathe out, reaching over to silence your phone. “Sorry,” you add with a sheepish smile. “Really ruined the moment there.”

Quinn chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead quickly. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

You couldn’t deny the disappointment you were feeling that the moment really was ending this way. But you knew that Quinn said he was already running late and you weren’t about to make him any later. “Okay,” you whisper, watching him turn around and head out of the bathroom.

You order yourself dinner after Quinn leaves, hanging out by yourself until you needed to head to the arena. The sky is dark already as you climb into the Uber outside Quinn’s apartment building, pulling your seatbelt on.

“Going to the Canucks game?” you Uber driver asks you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Yeah,” you tell him with a nod and a friendly smile. “First Canucks game here.”

“First game ever?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “No, I’ve been to a few before. Never in Vancouver though.”

“Oh, really? Who’d you see play before?”

“Mostly the Devils,” you tell him, realizing the more information you gave the more you would need to explain. “I’m just here visiting a friend.”

“You’re from New Jersey?”

“No, I live in New York now.”

You watch him glance back at you, clearly not following along. “Something against the Rangers?”

“I guess you could say that,” you tell him with a shrug. You’re at the arena shortly after, heading in and finding your seat.

The game passes quickly, your attention on Quinn throughout the entirety of the game. It was different than watching Jack and Luke play. It felt more intense, like the outcome of the game would somehow be an indicator of the outcome of this entire trip.

When the game ends and the Canucks win with a score of 4-2 you can't help but feel a mixture of relief and happiness. It really did feel like a good omen of sorts.

You wait around the arena after the game, doing your best to fill the time till Quinn was ready to leave. You scroll though Instagram, liking post after post till you hit the point of not having a single new thing to look at. Eventually Quinn finds you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations,” you whisper, not pulling back. “You’re even more impressive to watch in person.”

Quinn laughs at your comment, shaking his head. He had always been humble, refusing to accept your compliments. “Do you want to go out for a drink or something? I know it’s kind of late but you flew all the way up here, I don’t want you to just have to stay in my apartment the whole time.”

Giggling you lean up closer, your hands on his shoulders. “I’d be fine staying in your apartment with you the whole time.” You lean in a little closer, lips almost brushing against his. “Doing anything with you,” you whisper.

“You coming out with us or what?” someone calls, making you jump back from Quinn, turning in the direction of the voice.

Quinn places his hands on your hips, pulling your body back against him. “No, I think we’re just going to do our thing.”

The man in front of you chuckles, shooting Quinn a knowing look. “Sounds good, man, see you later,” he says before heading off in the other direction.

Giggling you spin around, looking up at Quinn. “Well, where are we going for drinks?”

Quinn reaches his hand down, sliding it into yours. “It’s a surprise,” he tells you. Guiding you out of the arena and to his car Quinn opens the passenger door for you. You climb into the car, pulling on your seatbelt. A few minutes later you’re on your way, heading downtown.

The lounge Quinn takes you to is small and intimate. The table you’re seated at is equally as intimate, tucked away in the back of the restaurant. Opening the menu your eyes scan over the options, more specifically the prices on that menu. Glancing over at Quinn you watch him look at the menu himself. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the money for the drinks, you just never would have picked a place so expensive yourself. You had also never seen this side of Quinn. You weren’t oblivious, you knew he had money. But you were so used to him with a bottle of some middle-of-the-road beer he picked up at the liquor store on the way to the lake house that you could barely picture him ordering a $25 cocktail.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” Quinn asks before looking up from the menu, an uncertain smile on his face when he realizes that you're already looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head as you look back to the menu. “No, I’m not sure yet. What are you getting?”

“A sazerac, probably,” Quinn tells you with a shrug, the menu already closed letting you know it was most likely more than just probably.

“What’s that?” you whisper, your eyes scanning the menu again.

“Whisky,” Quinn tells you with a quiet chuckle. “Kind of like an old fashioned.”

“Right,” you drawl, nodding slowly. You couldn’t say you were that familiar with the old fashioned either but at least you knew what it was. “I think I’ll try the clover club.”

A few minutes later you order your drinks and you lean back in your chair, gazing across the table at Quinn. Was this a date? You hadn’t even stopped long enough to consider that possibility. You had gone out so, so many times before that you didn’t think the suggestion to go out this time was anything different than that.

“What are you thinking about?” Quinn asks uncertainly.

“You,” you whisper, with a small shrug. “Us,” you add a moment later.

“What are you thinking about us?” Quinn presses, leaning a little closer.

“I don’t really know,” you admit, glancing down at the table for a second. “Do you think there’ll ever be an us to really think about?”

Quinn swallows heavily, silence falling between the two of you as he stares across the small table at you. His silence makes you nervous, shifting in your chair under the intensity of his gaze. “I hope so,” he eventually tells you.

“I-,” you begin, your sentence getting cut short as your server returns with your drinks. She sets a coupe glass in front of you filled with a pink liquid, three perfect raspberries balanced across the top of the glass on a cocktail skewer. “It’s so cute.”

“It’s fitting,” Quinn says, picking up his glass and taking a drink of his own cocktail.

You can’t hold back your smile at Quinn’s comment, rolling your eyes playfully. “Okay, Casanova,” you tease.

“Am I not allowed to flirt with you now?”

Giggling you shake your head, “of course you can,” you tell him before picking up your glass and taking a sip. It’s stronger than you expected, catching you off guard as you slowly set it back down. Maybe that’s why they were so expensive. “I asked for some time off work before I came out here,” you say suddenly, watching Quinn closely, trying to gauge his reaction. Of course it had been presumptuous of you to take the time off before discussing it, but you had the vacation days anyway and you had assumed two days probably wouldn’t feel like long enough.

“Yeah?” Quinn says, reaching over and taking your hand, running his thumb across the back of it. “Does that mean you’re staying longer?”

Shrugging you stare down at your interlocked hands. “Depends if you want me to stay.”

“Of course…I don’t want you to leave yet,” Quinn tells you with a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

“Good, because I don’t want to leave yet either,” you tell him. Picking up your glass you take another sip of your drink, the liquid going down a lot smoother now that you were expecting it.

The two of you sit there at that table for hours, over multiple drinks and a couple appetizers. Your conversation is comfortable, the issues that had brought you to Vancouver in the first place no longer seeming so heavy or intense. Quinn pays the bill at the end of the night and your previous thoughts about the possibility of the evening being a date come flooding back into your mind.

Walking back into Quinn’s apartment you kick off your shoes, sliding your jacket off. “Thank you for tonight,” you say as you hang your jacket in the coat closet.

Quinn glances over at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Thanks for what?”

Shrugging you lean against the wall behind you. “I don’t know…taking me out, showing me a bit of Vancouver, paying for the bill.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Quinn assures you. “I wanted to.”

Reaching over you take Quinn’s hands in yours and pull him in front of you. “Just take the thank you, Quinn,” you whisper.

“Okay, fine…you’re welcome,” Quinn mumbles, staring down at you.

There’s an intensity in the moment, a heaviness in the air. Your heart was racing so fast, stomach filled with butterflies. The apartment is silent, so silent you begin to wonder if Quinn can hear it all. The shakiness in your breath, the hammering of your heart in your chest. The apartment is dim, lit by a single warm lightbulb a few feet away. Your eyes gravitate down to his lips and this time you don’t care how obvious it is.

He begins to lean in and your patience quickly wears thing, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to press your lips to his. His hands land on your hips, pulling them closer to him, your shoulder blades pressing back into the wall. Sliding your hand up you tangle your fingers in his hair, your tongue brushing against his. His grasp on your hips tightens, a quiet moan slipping from your lips.

Your mind was hazy, your emotions overwhelming. Your body was begging for more, his hands on your body felt intoxicating. Sliding your arm over his shoulder you lean your body further into him, desperate to be as close to him as you could, desperate for more. When you pull away it’s to catch your breath, steady the racing of your heart. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too,” Quinn replies, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. He’s smiling when he pulls back, reaching down to take your hand. He guides you into the living room, sitting down and pulling you down beside him. He places his hand on your thigh, fingers just a little too high for your mind not to be filled with less-than-PG thoughts. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I, um, y-yeah,” you stammer. Quinn knows what he’s doing and you can tell by the smirk on his lips as he hands you the remote. Taking it from him you put something on the TV, the very first movie you could find that seemed alright.

You’re not watching the movie long before you feel Quinn’s fingers move on your thigh, a heavy breath escaping your lips. Your eyes flicker down to this hand, watching him brush his thumb on your leg. When you turn your attention to Quinn you see that he’s not watching the movie at all, his eyes are locked on you.

Pushing his hand off your thigh you swing your leg over his body, your hands resting on his shoulders as you lean down to kiss him. It’s fast and eager, your back arching as you roll your hips forward.

“Fuck,” Quinn breathes out as he pulls back. “Baby, you’re…,” he begins, cutting himself off with a strangled moan. You didn’t need him to finish the sentence, you knew what you were doing when you felt him growing hard beneath you.

His hands slide underneath your shirt, his fingers warm against your skin as he slides them up your waist. Pulling back you let him tug your shirt off, dropping it onto the ground beside you. Quinn leans closer, pressing his lips to yours as he unhooks your bra. You feel your bra come undone and you pull back. Your eyes lock with Quinn’s as you slowly slide the bra down your arms. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had seen you naked, but this time it was different. This time you were inviting him to do far more than just skinny dip with you.

Setting the bra down Quinn places his hands on your waist, sliding further down towards the edge of the couch. Leaning in your lips lock with his again, your body begging for more. “Quinn,” you whimper against his lips.

“Yes, baby?” he mumbles, his hands exploring your body, sliding to your hips as he tugs you in a little closer.

“I need you…please,” you whisper.

He doesn’t need you to say anything more, standing up and pulling you with him. He leads you into his bedroom, pushing you across the room till the backs of your thighs hit the mattress. Laying back on the bed you gasp in surprise as he lifts you further onto the bed, hovering over you as he unbuttons your jeans. “Quinn,” you gush.

“What?” he asks with a smirk, pulling your jeans down your legs as you lift your hips to make it easier.

“I just didn’t expect…this,” you tell him, sitting up as you push his shirt up his torso, letting him take over and toss it aside.

“I can slow down,” he offers, running his hands down your thighs.

“No,” you say quickly, giggling at your own eagerness. “Please, don’t,” you add.

Quinn chuckles, nodding as he leans down, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. He moves further up your thigh, and each time his lips brush against your skin your body jolts with desire. Slowly he pulls your underwear down your legs, letting them drop onto the floor. Your breathing is heavy by the time his tongue brushes against the spot that you had been nearly begging for.

“O-oh,” you gasp as he flicks his tongue over your clit. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but whatever it was you weren’t expecting it to feel this good.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, back arching as you moan loudly. “Fuck,” you breathe out, breathing heavily. His hands wrap around your thighs, your fingers curling into the fabric of the comforter on the bed, trying to keep yourself still as waves of pleasure rip through you.

Your body flushes with warmth, desperate to reach your climax as your hips begin to squirm. Quinn presses his arm against your hips, stilling them as his tongue flicks against your clit. “Oh fuck,” you whine, moaning loudly. A second later your muscles are tensing, waves of pleasure ripping through your body. “O-oh my god,” you cry out, flinching away from his tongue when the sensation grows too intense. “Okay, okay,” you mumble, hands cradling his face as you tug him back to your lips. Pressing your lips to his you kiss him deeply, your legs wrapping around his torso. “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Quinn teases.

Your breath leaves your lips shakily, eyes locked with his. “Please…I want you inside of me,” you plead.

Quinn leans in, kissing you gently before climbing off the bed. You watch him open the nightstand, grabbing a condom. You reach over, taking his hand and pulling him towards you, till he was standing in front of where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking up at him you unbutton his pants, slowly pushing them down.

“Fuck,” Quinn breathes out, his hand on the back of your head, fingers weaving into your hair. You slide his underwear off a second later, your hand wrapping around his erection. Leaning down you swirl your tongue around his tip, taking him into your mouth a second later. He lets out a shuttering groan, his fingers grasping at your hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters.

You take him as far into your mouth as you can each time you bob your head up and down, suppressing your gags as your eyes well with tears from the sensation. You can feel the saliva building in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, the saliva dripping down onto your fingers. Moving your free hand to Quinn’s thigh you readjust on your knees, the hardwood floor below you is not particularly comfortable, but the quiet groans he’s making make it worth it.

A few minutes later Quinn pulls back and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, staring up at him. “You’re so beautiful,” Quinn mutters, running his thumb along your bottom lip. He leans down to kiss you again, gentle and slow.

Pulling back Quinn opens the condom, sliding it on quickly. Scooting back on the bed you reach up, grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you. He kisses you passionately as he slides his hand between your legs, fingers brushing over your entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside you. He moves slowly at first, brushing up slightly, sliding another finger inside you a minute later, your moans growing in volume.

He pulls his hand back quickly, wrapping around his dick, sliding himself inside you. It’s slow at first, almost teasing as he watches you beneath him, moaning quietly. “Oh my god,” you whimper, your hands grasping onto his shoulders. “You feel so good inside me,” you whisper as he picks up the speed, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Leaning up Quinn places his hands on the backs of your thighs, gently pushing your legs back further. Sliding your hand down you run your fingers over your clit, Quinn watching you for a moment as your moans grow in frequency. “Oh, fuck,” Quinn groans, tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m close.”

Your fingers pick up speed when you hear Quinn say he’s close, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm just a moment later. As your body is overtaken by the familiar tensing of your muscles you cry out in pleasure, your free hand wrapping around Quinn’s bicep, fingers digging into his arm.

Quinn finishes just a minute after you, groaning as his thrusts slow in pace, slowly pulling himself out of you. He leans down and kisses your forehead gently before pushing himself off the bed, heading towards the bathroom as he takes off the condom.

Laying on the bed you stare at the ceiling, trying your best to catch your breath. It had been awhile since you had sex in general but a very long time since you had sex that felt that good. Your hand rests on your bare torso, rising and falling with each heavy breath. You turn your head to the side when Quinn returns, tugging on a pair of underwear before sitting on the bed beside you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him with a giggle. “Really good.”

“Good,” Quinn echoes with a chuckle, leaning down to quickly peck your lips. “I’m going to get us some water, do you want anything else?”

Shaking your head you sit up, tugging your underwear back on. “No, just the water would be great.”

“I’ll be right back,” Quinn tells you, kissing your forehead again before leaving the bedroom.

Pulling the blankets back you slide under them, realizing just how tired you really were. Quinn returns a minute later, setting a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. He joins you in bed, reaching over and pulling you closer. His fingers brush against your back, your arm resting on his chest.

“Was tonight a date?” you whisper.

A soft breath of laughter leaves Quinn’s lips as he tips his head up to look at you. “Well I thought it was but that’s kind of embarrassing if you didn’t.”

Giggling you lift your head, looking up at him. “I didn’t know but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it to be.” Rolling over you slide one leg over his body, straddling him as you lean in, your lips hovering over his. “We can call it a date but I don’t usually kiss on the first date and look at where tonight went,” you joke.

“Well I’m definitely looking forward to the second date then,” Quinn replies with a chuckle, his hands on your hips as he rolls you off of him to hover over you. “I’ll make sure you know it’s a date next time,” he says with a smirk, kissing you gently. “Get you some flowers or something.”

“Ooh,” you say with a giggle, running your fingers along his arm. “I love flowers.”

“I’ll get you all the flowers you ever want.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so romantic, Quinn,” you tease, leaning up to peck his cheek.

Quinn shrugs, settling onto the bed beside you. “I’m not normally.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you shake your head. “Okay…whatever you say.”

“I’m being serious,” Quinn assures you with a quiet laugh.

Turning your head your eyes meet with his and you realize he’s not joking. “Well please don’t stop, I like it.”

“I won’t,” Quinn promises, leaning over and kissing your forehead gently.

Smiling softly you curl in closer to Quinn, letting your eyes fall shut as you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest under your hand. It doesn’t take long for you fall asleep in his arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment that extends into your dreams, lulling you into a deep sleep.

Your eyes flutter open the next morning, rolling onto your side in the dim bedroom, the blinds blocking out the early morning light. “Good morning,” you whisper when you watch Quinn’s eyes open, turning on his side to face you.

Quinn reaches over, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Morning,” he mumbles with a tired smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good,” you whisper, unable to contain your own smile. “Did you sleep okay?” Rolling onto your stomach you move closer to him, resting your arm on his chest.

“Yes,” Quinn replies, his hand sliding down to rest on your lower back. “Was last night okay?”

“More than okay,” you assure him, drawing imaginary shapes on his chest with your fingertips. “What do you want to do today?” you ask him, knowing it was one of very few days where he wasn’t doing something for hockey.

Quinn shrugs, brushing his thumb along the skin of your lower back, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. “Anything as long as it’s with you.”

“What a coincidence��that’s also what I want to do today.”

You spend most of the morning in the apartment, not going more than a few minutes here and there without touching each other in some manner. Brief kisses here and there, a hand on your back, your arms wrapped around him. The afternoon brings you out of the apartment and into the streets of Vancouver, Quinn showing you around the rainy city.

You spend the rest of the week at Quinn’s apartment. Watching movies on the couch, making dinners, going to another one of his games, afternoons spent at his kitchen table working through projects your laptop. You spent a night alone there when he had a road game, curled up on the couch in one of his t-shirts, watching the game on the TV in his living room. Everything felt so comfortable, so normal. Like this was the life you were supposed to be living. Just you and Quinn in an apartment together.

But no matter how good it felt you knew it wasn’t going to last. You had to go home, had to get back to your job and the classes that you were barely keeping up with online. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to continue living in this blissful state with Quinn, it just wasn’t reasonable.

Your time in Vancouver had to come to an end, the time slipping by so much faster than normal. Before you knew it you didn’t have another day or even another night together.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, the lights in the airport feeling too bright, the air a little too cold, the bustling of people a little too loud. “Well,” you whisper, blinking quickly as you glance around, at anything and everything but Quinn. You were certain that if you looked at him a little too long you wouldn’t be able to keep it together. “I, um, I guess I should go…don’t want to miss my flight,” you mumble, though if you were being honest you wouldn’t be too upset if you did miss your flight.

Quinn nods, reaching over and pulling you into him. The two of you stand there in silence, neither one wanting to pull back, not wanting the inevitable to happen. “I’m going to miss you.”

Sniffling quietly you curl your fingers into his hoodie. “Me too,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your hands still on his arms. “Don’t get too busy that you can’t talk to me when I call,” you joke, a sad breath of laughter following. Reaching up you wipe away your tears as you take a small step back.

“Never,” Quinn assures you, a clear hesitation as he lets you go. “Have a good flight.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, slowly turning around and heading towards the security line. You don’t look back, didn’t want him to see the stream of tears that you had been holding in all morning running down your cheeks. You fight through your emotions till you're through security, finding yourself a seat to hide away from the rest of the world as the sleeves of your hoodie grow damp with the tears you’re wiping from your face.

Who would have thought that leaving on such great terms would be just as hard as leaving thinking you were never going to see him again.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #quinn hughes imagine

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