#''I love you and all but...why this person? What do you see in them? You are way too awesome to be with someone like this!''

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[eddiesxangel]

She Said Fuck Me Like I’m Famous (I Said Okay) | E.M

WC: 5.9k

Cw: fem!popstar!reader, modern au, fluff, smut, dirty talk, kinda Dom Eddie, oral (m & f), p in v, reader is on bc, creampies.

Summary: when you invite your online bestie over to spend the week with you for the first time, you don’t know what to expect when her over protective friends tag along

Meeting Robin was a happy accident that life sometimes throws at you. Even though she was a stranger on the other side of the country, she was one of the most genuine friends you could have ever asked for. It all started slowly. You had both been on the same Discord server because of your mutual love for an author, and things went from there. After almost three years of friendship, you finally decided to meet in person!

You guys organized everything. She was flying to California and staying with you in your two-bedroom apartment for a little over a week. You had so much planned for the both of you, especially over the weekend, because it just so happened you were also to perform at this year’s Coachella.

It was your first big performance at a festival like this. It would do wonders for your career and hopefully bring you new fans.

Robin was your biggest supporter. She was so excited to see you perform live for the first time, not to mention the VIP passes you had promised her. It was hard to seek out genuine friendships in the line of work that you do. Everyone wants something, so you didn’t disclose your real name and what you did until you could trust her entirely. Robin was one of those people who you couldn't help but love; her bubbly personality and heart of gold were something you latched onto.

You were not taken aback upon receiving a text from Robin informing you that her two extremely protective male friends were adamant about accompanying her to ensure her safety. She had previously mentioned them, and from what she shared, they come across as genuinely great guys. Their concern for their friend's well-being is commendable, and you appreciate their commitment to looking out for her.

She also told you that the guys would rather stay in a hotel with her, but if they felt comfortable, they didn’t mind if she stayed with you for the rest of the week. You weren’t offended. It was unbelievable that you invited someone you’d never met into your home. Still, she was one of your closest confidants, even though you’ve never seen one another in person, primarily through texting and FaceTime.

-

The day was finally here, and you let Robin know that your assistant would pick the three of them up at the airport because you were in rehearsals until 2:00 p.m.

“See, Rob, this is exactly why we came with you!” Steve pointed at the text message as she read it out loud.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked with a scowl.

“She is sending a random person to pick us up? We are about to be human trafficked for all we know!”

Robin rolled her eyes and hiked up her carry-on over her shoulder.

“Men… so dramatic.” She whispered under her breath.

The three wandered down the corridor until they saw a small woman about 5'1" with a bright smile holding a sign that read ‘ Birdie + 2.’

That was cute; you used her Discord name.

“Oh, yes. Here is the woman who’s going to kidnap us,” she jesters, and the two men can’t help but roll their eyes.

“Hi! Are you Kelsey?” Robin approached the woman who she towered over.

“Yes, Hi! If you want to come with me, the car is waiting. She’s so excited you’re finally here; it’s all she’s been talking about.”

Kelsey opened the door for the three friends to get in and made her way to the driver’s seat.

-

It’s been a long wait, but your rehearsal wrapped up right on schedule. You made sure because you didn’t want to waste any time. You’ve been so antsy all day, waiting to go home and meet your best friend for the first time. You were so nervous; what if she thought you were annoying? What if the paparazzi ruined her time here? On your way home, the what-ifs circled your mind, but you tried to shake that all away when you got the text from Kelsey that they made it safely and were on their way to the hotel to drop off their things. Then she would bring them over to your apartment.

The minutes tick by as you wait for them in your apartment. You double-check the fridge to make sure you have refreshments and snacks. They must be tired and hungry from the flight.

Your manicured fingernails tap the cold marble countertop in your kitchen as you nervously scroll your phone, trying to distract yourself until the condo buzzer startles you. You run over and answer the speaker, telling them to come on up.

You anxiously count the seconds as you wait for them to approach the door. When the elevator bell dings on your floor, 17 stories up, you open the door eagerly to see Kelsey get off first.

You’re bouncing on your toes as you half-heartedly skip through the hallway, cheering as you see the freckled-faced girl enter the corridor.

“Birdie!” You clap, jump, and run to her with a smile so big your cheeks burn.

Cheers and squeals fill the small space as you take one another in your arms. If the people surrounding you had known better, your embrace would have made it look like you were lovers.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here!”

"I can't believe you're real." You step back to look at her in full. Finally, after all this time, you are united with your bestie. You tell one another everything. Robin confided in you about how she likes girls, and you said you were so scared that you're not good enough to be here. The imposter syndrome was extreme, but she put your mind at ease.

One of the men behind Robin had cleared their throat, reminding the both of you that they were also there.

“Oh my god, sorry.” Robin jumps.

“This is Steve, and this is Eddie.” Robin steps out of your way, and your gaze falls on the two handsome men standing behind her. Your heart flutters a bit, taking in both of them.

Steve and Eddie were complete opposites in their style. Steve had a preppy look, with a soft smile and gentle, kind eyes that reflected his warm personality. In contrast, Eddie's style was edgy and tough, but his eyes were surprisingly kind and strikingly beautiful, hinting at a depth beyond his tough exterior.

“Hi, I’m y/n, but you can call me Bunnie.” You stuck out your hand to introduce yourself.

“Damn, kinda disappointed you’re real; I had 50 bucks going that you were catfishing Rob this whole time,” Steve giggled as you shook his hand.

“Shut up,” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Me? A catfish? Never,” you giggled.

You moved to Eddie, and he stood there wide-eyed as he tried to speak, say hello, hi, or something, but he felt like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. There was no way you were real. There's no way you were this pretty in real life. There was no way Robin was friends with a celebrity.

Unsurprisingly, Eddie had no idea who you were when Robin told him and Steve she was coming out to see you. However, Steve’s reaction made it seem like you were a big deal, so he googled you and looked at your Instagram beforehand. Never in his life did he see someone so beautiful. The attraction was instant, but now, seeing you in person, there was no denying his inevitable crush on you.

Eddie finally managed to choke out a “hi.” His cheeks heated up as his voice cracked like he was 12 again.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile but quickly turn to Robin.

“Come,” you say, linking your arm with hers as you return to your condo.

“Thanks for letting us tag along with Birdie here,” Steve smiled.

After the initial excitement, you had all settled down. You were lounging on your balcony, eating and drinking to your heart's content.

“No problem, the more the merrier,” you smile.

Robin had told you about her friends back home; you also felt like you strangely knew them.

“What do you guys want to do first? Eddie, any suggestions?” You ask, singling him out.

Eddie hardly knew what to say. It was as if his brain had stopped functioning when you spoke to him. He wanted to woo and get to know you and hoped and prayed that you were as good of a person as Robin raved you to be.

“W-what?" He stuttered and looked at you wide-eyed. "Uh, I'm not sure. What do you have in mind?”

Without a beat, you rambled off the list of activities you had in mind, and Eddie listened so intently to everything; he would go anywhere as long as he was in your company.

“He, man, help me get some more drinks,” Steve said, nudging Eddie’s knee.

“No, please, you’re my guest. Allow me.” You got to stand, but Steve insists.

“Take advantage, let them dote on us.” Robin giggled.

“Dude, you’re really into her, aren’t you?” Steve smirked once the two men were back inside and out of earshot.

“How could I not be? Hello, she’s like the perfect woman,” Eddie half whispered.

Eddie took you in one more time through the sliding glass door. Not only was your style darker and edgy, but you’re witty and funny and don’t seem too vapid for a Hollywood star. He had a preconceived notion about Hollywood starlets; however, you seemed so down to earth, and you loved talking music with him; even if you are a pop star, you know your shit when it came to writing and playing guitar.

“You should ask her out this week and see what happens.”

“No, she’s not into me.”

“Maybe not yet? But how could she not be? You’re a catch. You gotta be yourself; you’re too in your head right now. Just think of her as an extension of Robin.”

“An extension of Robin?”

“They’re practically the same person; just don’t think about how hot she is.”

That’s easy for you to say.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“How?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re King Steve, Steve 'the hair' Harrington, and you know how to flirt with girls.”

“So do you.”

“Not girls like that!” He points towards you and Robin, oblivious to the conversation, gabbing away about who knows what.

“You’re telling me that a girl who looks like that isn’t going to be attracted to a guy who looks like you? “ he raised a brow.

“I don’t know?” Eddie shrugged.

“Nah, dude, you’re being too hard on yourself. Listen to me, be yourself, and see what happens.”

“Okay,” he sighed, bringing the drinks out for you and Robin.

As the night wore on, Eddie became more confident speaking to you and less intimidated after the talk with Steve in the kitchen. When the night ended, you were all disappointed to say goodbye but excited about what tomorrow would bring.

-

The past few days have been absolutely hectic. Rehearsals for the upcoming show have consumed your mornings, followed by afternoons filled with various outings. It's a whirlwind from sound check to meeting up with your guests at their hotel or wherever they are.

Eddie’s crush was starting to take over his mind. Every night before he went to sleep, he thought about you and watched videos of you. He even went so far as to put your name on YouTube and “cute moments” afterwards.

Nothing could stop Eddie from getting you off his mind. He was so excited when you gave him your number, even if he was too nervous to text you. His excitement doubled when you followed him on Instagram, and he spastically went through all his posts to make sure nothing was embarrassing.

Today, you went to the beach. A relaxing day was much needed after your hectic schedule of rehearsals and entertaining your guests over the past few days.

You arrive to see your new friends secured a great spot by the water's edge. Robin is lying under the umbrella while the boys wrestle in the water.

“Is Eddie single?” you ask after settling down with Robin on the sand.

“The most chronically single person I’ve ever met; dude hasn’t been in a relationship since he confessed his love for a cheerleader in high school, and I wouldn’t even count that as a girlfriend.”

You stop and ponder this newfound information as you watch him from afar. As you observe him splashing around, you see him in a new light. He is lean but has some muscle. His various tattoos and how he looks in a bathing suit is giving you butterflies.

“What’s wrong with him?” You ask nervously.

“Nothing is wrong with him; he’s just… I don’t know how to explain it. The girls in our town aren’t into guys who look or act like Eddie. They’re all stuck up, snooty rich kids, you know? And Eddie has had it rough; he grew up on the poorer side of town and his parents. His uncle raised him, so everyone looked down at him.” Robin sighed, hating the way life had treated her friend.

“Trust me, I know about stuck-up assholes. I live in their capital.” You snort.

“So why are you asking about Ed? Any particular reason?” Robin peaks at you from under her sunglasses. ”

“He seems different from the guys in L. A” You twiddle with the strings on your bikini bottoms.

“Well, I know he has a big fat crush on you.”

“Really?” Your face lit up, giving away your motive for conversation.

“Seems like you do, too girl friend.” She nudged you, and you tried to hide your face under your beach towel.

“Ooooooooooo Bunnie has a crush on Eddie the Freak.” Robin teased.

“What did he do to earn that title?”

“There are many rumours; I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

Robins’s innuendo had you giggling so hard that you almost started crying.

You pulled Eddie’s attention when he heard your angelic laugh. Eddie stood distracted by watching you lay out with Robin, your tattoos on display, more than he had seen initially. Your teeny black-and-white bikini was a sight for soar eyes, being stuck with Steve all day and night. With the sudden distraction, Steve had the opportunity to body-slam Eddie into the ocean.

Eddie’s audible “oof” was heard, and before Eddie knew it, he was gasping for air. When he finally got his bearing straight, he saw you looking over, concerned at the two men, then gave a slight wave to ensure he was okay.

“Playtimes over, Harrington,” Eddie shoved Steve off of him.

“Oh, I think it’s just beginning for you, Munson.”

The two men exited the water looking too hot for their own good, like some personal Baywatch episode was coming at you in 3D.

“Like what you see?” Eddie smirked at you as they both approached the both of you.

“Absolutely.” You squint up at him, the sun catching your eyes.

Eddie plopped beside you and shook his head like a dog getting ocean water all over you.

You squeak at how cold the water is.

“Oh, sorry, Bunnie, let me get that for you.” He smirks.

He brushes the water from your face with his towel.

Oh, he knows what he is doing.

Your skin deceived you as the goosebumps arose when Eddie touched your face.

“You cold, Bunnie?” Eddie noticed and pulled you in with him as he wrapped his towel around the both of you. Your bare back pressing against his cold, damp chest wasn’t helping, but hell, you were not about to start complaining.

“Thanks”

Robin gives you a pointed look, then immediately grabs Steve’s hand to yank him up.

“Come, we are getting food.”

Steve leaves without protest, seeing what Robin sees- that you and Eddie should have some alone time.

“So a little Birdie told me you have a reputation back home.” You were leaning up against Eddie’s chest, basking in the sun.

“Oh, did she, now? And what might that be.”

“that you’re a little freaky,” you giggle.

“You sure you want to know about th-"

“Oh my god! It is you! Oh my god, I love you. Can I please get a picture with you?” A girl not much younger than yourself, clearly a fan of yours, looks down at you, and Eddie is cuddled up.

Without missing a beat, you get up and greet the fan.

“Can you take our picture?” She gives her phone to Eddie before he even agrees that he’s getting up to help.

You give him an apologetic look. This was not the kind of day he signed up for.

You pose with the fan and talk with her briefly before she asks, “ Is that your boyfriend?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie again sitting under the umbrella.

“No, no, he’s a friend,” you smile.

“Too bad, you guys would be a cute couple.”

You entertain her only a few more minutes before she leaves.

“Sorry about that.” You sit back down beside Eddie.

“That’s okay, I get it. You’re famous and all.” He smiles.

“I’m not that famous,” you sigh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart.”

“Well, maybe…” you shrug.

“You have strangers coming up to you complimenting your work; that’s sick as fuck if you ask me.”

“It's something I’ll never get used to.”

“Tell me more what it’s like?”

“What? Having a fan approach me?”

“Yea. I guess being a famous rockstar was all I ever dreamed of until a few years ago when I realized it wouldn’t be in the cards for me.

“What if it could be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a crazy idea.”

-

Pictures of you and a “Mystery guy” were planted all over the tabloids the following day. Of course, no one stopped to take a photo when it was just you and Robin or the four of you sitting on the beach.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into my crazy.” You apologized while you were all out to dinner. Eddie was sat directly beside you.

“I think I like crazy,” he smirked and gently touched your knee.

You tried to hide your bashful smile while playing with the stem of your martini glass.

Robin and Steve instantly locked in on the chemistry between you. They tried to look at one another subtly, but you caught it.

“What are you guys up to?” You ask.

“Nothing,” Robin laughs, but Steve isn’t shy about the topic.

“You guys are cute,” he smirks into the glass before sipping the golden bubbly liquid.

“Steve!” You squeak.

“I agree,” Robin concurred.

You wanted to agree with them, but you hardly knew Eddie, but you yearned to know everything about him. The more time you spend with this group, the more you don’t want them to leave. You can’t imagine how it will be once they go home next week. You would kill for them to spend more time with, especially Robin and your newfound crush, Eddie.

-

As the sun sets on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Coachella stage, you feel the nervous excitement building inside you. In just five minutes, it would be your turn to shine. Every move, every step, every beat was etched into your mind. You had rehearsed and memorized everything, from the choreography to the cues. The anticipation was palpable as you prepared to take the stage. Eddie Robin and Steve were set up in the VIP section, and you had an excellent sightline. You felt the cheers from the crowd pulsing through your veins as you stepped under the spotlight.

“She’s incredible!” Robin cheered.

“I had no idea she could sing like that!” Steve was in shock.

“What do you think, Eddie?” Robin turns, but her friend is nowhere in sight. “Ed? Hey, where is Eddie?”

Steve looks around, and he has no idea.

“Maybe he had to take a leak or something?”

Unbeknownst to them, you had a little surprise for your friends.

“How are we feeling tonight!?” You ask the crowd from centre stage.

The crowd roared in response.

“I said, “How are we feeling tonight? “ you ask again, and the crowd cheers as loud as possible.

“Very good, Coachella! I’m so grateful for you guys having me! this is a crucial moment in my career, a highlight, really.” You paced the stage.

“I’m so grateful for you guys to take time out of your day to come out and see me. It means more to me than you ever know! You guys make me feel like a rockstar!”

The crowd cheers again, even louder, and you can’t seem to break the smile off your face.

“Now, before we get this party started, I need you guys to give a warm welcome to a new friend of mine.” You look over to the side stage and wave a hand.

“Everyone, put your hands together for this rockstar! The best guitarist I’ve ever encountered! Give it up for Eddie Munson!” The crowd cheers as you ask them to, and you swear you hear Steve and Robin above all else.

Eddie cannot believe he is standing on stage in front of a crowd with thousands of people in California instead of 6 drunks in Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie never imagined this opportunity would come to him, but here he was as if a magical being had granted him one wish in life.

When you looked at Eddie, a smile spread across your face, etched into his memory forever. Eddie looked so hot that you couldn’t help but rake your eyes up and down, taking him in. He wore his black ripped jeans, boots, and denim vest, showcasing his many tattoos.

The way you looked tonight was so beautiful. Eddie didn’t think he could make it through the three songs he’s rehearsed with you over the last two days.

Your music wasn’t Eddie’s usual genre. However, it wasn’t as bubblegum pop as he expected. He appreciated many rock elements and would be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.

“Okay, let’s rock!” And Eddie started the first riff of the second half of the setlist.

The crowd was electric, and Eddie’s heart felt like it would pound out of his chest, especially when it came to the guitar solo he absolutely nailed.

“Thank you, Coachella! Goodnight!” The roar of the crowd doesn't die down.

You grab Eddie by the hand and run off stage. As you make it to the stage, Eddie wraps you in a high so tight it takes your breath away.

“That was incredible! Unbelievable!” Eddie howled in excitement. “I can’t believe that just happened!”

“It’s incredible, isn’t it!” You smile.

“Yes! God, I could kiss you!”

“Who is stopping you?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline or perhaps it was the fact that Eddie would be leaving soon, but you wanted it so bad that you threw all caution to the wind.

“What?” Eddie’s eyes winded.

“Kiss me, rockstar. I know you want to.”

You pulled Eddie in by the guitar strap, and your lips connected. The moment his plump lips made contact with your deep cherry-cola-coloured ones, you knew this was something more than physical attraction. You haven’t felt a kiss like this in a very long time. The both of you pull away regretfully, but you are standing in the middle of backstage, and techs and roadies are running all over the place; you can’t just make out with Eddie here.

“Come home with me to my place tonight? You ask bravely.

Eddie quickly nods his head, at a loss for words.

“Okay,”

-

Nothing could top this moment for Eddie. It was you and him alone for the first time. He was in your bedroom, and the height he was feeling was too much to contain. Eddie pulled you in closer, his lips crashing into yours harder as his hands grabbed the silver material of your mini dress. He pushed you up against the wall, and you felt his tight hold on your body. His hard body pressed up against yours, and the only thing separating you was four layers of thin cloth dawning you and Eddie.

“Fuck you’re so hot.” You moan.

Eddie’s head spun at your confession. You thought he was hot. You, the girl who made all of his wildest dreams come true and then some.

“I want you,” you mumble into his lips.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice before his hand travelled up between the soft skin of your plush thighs.

The way your skin felt under his fingertips makes you shiver. Slowly, his callused tips found their way to the cloth of your soaked panties.

Eddie moaned into you as his kiss trailed down the side of your jaw to your neck, catching that sweet spot that makes your pussy weep.

Eddie’s fingers delicately stroke up and down your slit like he would break you, but you need more. You can’t help your hips rock back and forth into his touch.

Eddie didn’t think he would end up with a pop star grinding into his hand when he planned his trip to Cali with his friend, but he wasn’t complaining. He would be happy if this was the furthest the two of you got.

“More,” You plead, and your hand wiggles its way between the two of you to stroke his already hardening cock.

Eddie buckles his hips into your hand unwillingly, but the feeling of your hand on his cock had him acting on instinct. The two of you dry-humping one another against the wall wasn’t enough.

“Need you, want you so bad,” Eddie confesses.

You push up off the wall and drag Eddie to your bed. You push him back with a giggle, then fall to your knees before him.

“Holy shit,” he whispers under his breath. Your gaze meets Eddie, and it’s like a siren is looking back up at him, ready to drown him with your lust.

You quickly unbuckle and unbutton and unzip everything containing Eddie’s bulge from you, and you’re pleasantly surprised when you finally unwrap him. His tip was already crying for your touch, so red and shiny due to the precum that had been leaking ever since you kissed him when you both got off stage. His long, thick shaft taunted you as if it might not be able to fit.

“Want to teach me why they call you Eddie the Freak?” You smirk.

“Fuck Bunnie, you don’t know what you’re asking for. "

“That’s why I’m asking, big boy.��

You don’t give Eddie a chance to respond before wrapping your warm lips around his fat tip.

“Yes, sweetheart, right there,” he draws out his words as you take him in further.

His hands grip the roots of your hair, pulling them taught as your mouth takes him to the back of your throat.

“Oh god,” He moans again. The way your mouth feels around his cock is making him want to thrust up into you, but he holds back for your sake. He knows you asked him to share why he’s called the freak, but he’s not ready to scare you away with his kinks, not yet.

“Fuck baby, you’re so big” You pull off and replace your mouth with your hand so you can catch your breath. Your lung capacity may be suitable for singing, but you can only hold so much breath.

“You think so, pretty girl?” Eddie brushed a fallen piece of hair from your face, and you swore you had never been so hot and bothered.

You bite your bottom lip and try to grind yourself on your heels for any source of friction as you take him back in your mouth. His taste was addictive, and so was the way he was looking down at you with a look in his eyes that made you feel so wanted.

“Such good girl; you like being on your knees for me?”

You nod your head and hum on his cock in a reference, and that makes Eddie’s head spin. The way your mouth is sending vibrations through him has him pulling you up off of him because he would end the night early if you keep that up.

You giggle as he switches your positions and strips himself. Your head hits your pillows, and you sink into the plush mattress.

“You’re wearing too many clothes," Eddie smirks as his hands find the hem of your dress, pushing it up, up, up, until it meets the lower part of your breasts. Then you take over, folding the fabric over your head.

“Fuuuuuuuuck” Eddie draws out before letting his head fall between them. He presses his face into your chest, kissing and sucking on your tits before he finally takes one nipple into his mouth.

“Tonight should be all about you, Sweetheart.” he nips at your sensitive skin.

“Should worship you like you deserve.”

A low main leaves your throat before Eddie dips down to discard your sodden panties. Finally, he has you where he wants; needy for him and naked.

“Knew you’d have sucha’ pretty pussy, Bunnie.”

“Edddieee” you cry; it’s pathetic how riled up you’ve become.

“Don’t be a brat now,” he warns, but that only makes your pussy throb even more than it has been.

You’re dying to be touched; you craved him so badly that you couldn’t stand it.

Eddie’s mouth dips down to your lower stomach, long drawn-out mouth kisses trailing along your skin around your mound, your under thighs. His teeth nipped and bit at your tender flesh, not breaking the skin but enough to mark you up, to claim you as his own.

“Eddie, please, baby, touch me.” You ask as you stroke the fallen hair out of his face.

“Asking so nicely, good girl.” He purrs.

You can’t help but let out a long sigh as Eddie's tongue makes contact with your swollen bundle of overly sensitive nerves.

He tasers you fully as the flat of his tongue drags itself over your slit. Your slick coats itself on his lips and chin as he sends a rush of pleasure through your veins.

Eddie, the Freak Munson, should be renamed to Eddie the Munch for the irresistible way he’s eating you out. His hands push your inner thighs wider so he has more of you to consume. Your exposed pussy calls to him as he eats you like he’s enjoying it more than you are. He wants you to cum all over his mouth.

Eddie lifts his head and replaces his mouth with his fingers as he pushes up inside of your pussy while massaging your clit with his thumb.

“I know you’re close, baby; give it to me. I need to know how you taste coming on my tongue.”

His dirty words had your head spinning and your core tightening. He was right; you were so close, you wanted- no, you needed to come.

“Please, please, please,” you begged for him to let you have the wave of pleasure wash over your body.

Eddie had you right where he needed you, in the sweet spot of being so desperate that you’d agree to anything he asked. He loved being in control this way; he loved wanting to feel powerful but also loved how much you trusted him to do so.

But what Eddie loved most of all was how you were about to cum all over his face; he loves pussy so much he can’t get enough of it, so he dips back down and has you cumming on his tongue as he pushed it up into your hole and didn’t let up as his thumb rubbed on your clit.

He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice before wanting to get to the best part.

“Did so good baby, you taste so good. I know you got one more in you for me.”

You can’t even speak; the way he just made you come so quickly, one after another, was mind-blowing.

“Want to teach me why they call you Bunnie?” Eddie mocks as he pulls you up to switch positions.

How were you to ride him after all that?

“Fuck Eddie, I don’t know if I can; my legs are like jello,” you giggle.

“I believe in you, baby,” he creases your ass as you align yourself over his cock.

“Wait, do you have a condom?” He stops you.

“I’m on birth control” You slowly rub your pussy over his shaft, teasing the head at your entrance, threatening to put it in.

“Shiiiiiit” Eddie’s head goes back. “You want to be my little Bunny? Hop on it raw?”

“Mmmmmmm, yes,” you hum as your hips rock back and forth.

“Fuck okay, okay.” And before the second okay is out of Eddie’s mouth, you’re already sinking on his cock. It feels so good that he stretches you until your hips are connected to the bottom.

The only thing filling the room was the sounds of skin slapping skin and the moans coming from each of your mouths. His hands roam your body, exploring the swell of your breasts, your nipples, down around your hips, your back and your ass giving it a tight squeeze.

“Fuck, that’s it. You’re such a good Bunny, bouncing and taking my cock so well.”

“So big.” Your legs were already burning as you worked yourself up and down on his body.

“You going to cum like that, huh?” His hips match your rhythm, and you work together to create the perfect pace.

“That’s my girl, that’s my girl, that’s my girl,” he chants like a prayer as your pussy clenches down on Eddie’s cock, making that your third orgasm of the evening. Your body shutters as your orgasm takes over you, the icing on the cake of the day you’ve had today.

“I’m close. Where do you want it.”

“In me, cum in me, please.”

“Fuck, you sure?”

“Yes!” You had stopped bouncing me, but Edie had you held in place as he fucked his hips up into you.

You can feel his balls slapping your ass and his cock twitching so deeply inside you that tiny ripples of post-orgasm spasms are still running through you.

With a grunt, Eddie collapses, and you fall on top of him. Your hot bodies pressed together, chests heaving, breathing in one another.

“Hey, you wanna stay?” You tentatively as as you curl up next to him.

“Sure baby, I can spend the night”

“No no-well yea, but no…I mean here in California… you can join the band” you bite your lip.

“You-you want me to join your band?”

You nod your head slowly.

“Woah…”

“I know it’s crazy! But you’re so good, and you love it. It wouldn't be exactly what you want, but it also puts your foot in the door, and I kind of don’t want you to leave.” You blab.

“All I heard was you don’t want me to leave, Eddie teases.

“I’m serious,” you playfully swat his chest.

“I’m going to have to call my boss in the morning,” he smirked.

“Really?”

“Id have gone an idot to pass up an opportunity like this sweetheart.

Tagging some mooties @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munson-blurbs @maisieisaloserr @ghost-proofbaby @littlexdeaths @take-everything-you-can @andvys @userchai @loserboysandlithium @floredaqueen @sexmetaleddie @strangerstilinski @myherometalhead

[zoe-oneesama]

What are your thoughts on what happened to Chloe at the end of Season 5? Do you plan on watching Season 6?

Like as IF that's the last we'll see of her.

I was gonna wait to give my review of Season 5 - I wanted a release date for Season 6 and then drop them like a count down leading up to the new season - which is why I haven't delved in much and talked about my opinions.

But Chloe's ending was bullshit, and we all know it. Not because she leaves Paris, not because she loses the few friends and connections she has, and not even because she's a massive brat who finally gets some form of comeuppance.

But because of the form that comeuppance comes in.

Why on God's Green Earth is ANDRE the one? ANDRE is the one to drag her ass out of Paris and condemn her publicly and gets to act like the big hero, doing the right thing and putting Chloe in her place? ANDRE. The one who GAVE her her place and covered it in gold leaf and never once until this whack-job of a season considered that a bad thing?!

Appropriate, appropriate face Caline.

The absolute absurdity of them to write THIS MAN in any sort of correct light, the one who from Day 1, Season 1 has been a solid and complete background for why Chloe is...Chloe. Who spoiled and abused his power to make sure she never felt an ounce of consequences or remorse or backlash. How dare they try and pull this move on us when they could remove Audrey from the story entirely and no one would second guess Chloe's entire personality or upbringing?

These writers have somehow convinced themselves that Andre is not only without any guilt in the outcome of this situation, but that he's redeemable! Redeemable through the act of shipping off his daughter, whom he's been nothing but devoted to, and sending her off to a boarding school with her (AS HE ADMITS) just as awful mother as her chaperone, while he abducts casually replaces her with his new better daughter, Zoé.

I'm sure that won't have an adverse effect on your child who is used to absolute and unconditional love for her whole life, you are definitely a good person who's finally figured out how to do the right thing.

/s

These writers have somehow convinced themselves that Chloe is absolutely hopeless and evil and has reached the point of no return, but ANDRE. Andre's fine.

And Gabriel too, apparently. Hm, seems to be a theme with these worthless male parents and getting off scott free....

[sceletaflores]

woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!

feat. logan howlett & wade wilson contains. 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n. a/n. this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!

"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff on Baywatch."

His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.

It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.

It should, but it doesn't.

The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.

Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.

The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.

The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.

"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."

Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.

It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.

Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.

There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.

The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.

It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.

It sort of became a thing after that.

"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."

It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.

You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.

Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.

"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."

"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.

There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.

His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.

Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.

"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"

"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.

Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.

Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

You’ll both get what you want soon enough.

"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.

“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.

Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.

Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.

“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.

“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”

"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."

Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.

You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 

"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 

Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.

The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.

Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.

Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.

“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.

The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.

A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.

Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.

He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.

Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.

"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.

“Spitters are quitters, you know that."

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[jinwoosbabyboo]

So, you did a post of the boys being jealous, but I was wondering how would you rank each guy from most jealous to least jealous/possessive? Also, what kind of jealous are they.

P.S. Xavier's "It's nothing personal" still cracks me up. You're hilarious.

Most to Least Jealous

Who's the most to least jealous among the four of them? Here's what I think.

Xavier

Xavier without a doubt is taking first place here. This man was jealous when Jeremiah had his arm around MCs shoulder. He gets upset anytime MC compliments Lumiere. Xavier PLEASE Lumiere IS YOU.

Don't get me wrong I understand the notion of "He wants MC to love him for him not his Lumiere alter-ego" I get that. It's sweet that he's "Xavier .... Just Xavier" with MC.

Aside from him being jealous of himself though even in his myth he gets jealous when Jeremiah touches her or she speaks about Jeremiah he even blew in her eye because she "had a hooligan in her eye" referring to Jeremiah. He wants to be the only person in her eyes, mind, and heart.

Rafayel

Rafayel is jealous, but he's more clingy/needy than jealous (and I love that) He doesn't like being ignored by MC and gets antsy and dramatic when she takes too long to respond.

He wants all of MCs attention at all hours of the day. He wants to have her attention 24/7, but realistically he knows that can't happen so he just wants as much as possible.

Sylus

Sylus is extremely secure in himself he doesn't get jealous. At least that's probably what he tells himself. This man isn't "im gonna pout" jealous he's more of flash/zing of jealousy before setting himself straight like "Wait a minute ... she's mine ... I'm the whole loaf the rest of you are the breadcrumbs" and he's back to his confident self-assured sexy self.

If you want to see him get jealous change his pet name for you and when he asks "Am I the only one to call you that?" if you choose the "You should be" answer he's like "Who else is there? that doesn't matter you have me now" or something like that.

Zayne

I don't think Zayne gets jealous often like it’s very rare. He wouldn't even be able to comprehend why he should be jealous. I feel like his thought process would be "Why would I be jealous? You chose to be with me" He so smitten with MC. He's also secure within himself and he knows MC is fine of course others are going to be interested, but she doesn't give them the time of day and he knows this. So why be jealous when this girl chose him at her own will.

He does however get possessive when it comes to doing something for you because that’s how he shows his love. So seeing someone else doing something for you when he could do it instead (and better) he’s quick to spring into action.

[love44lew]

what turns them on/off

彡drivers lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, sebastian vettel, jenson button

彡genre hcs/scenarios

彡summary what gets their wheels spinning and what makes ‘em dnf ★

彡notes i apologize for the wait my loves i didn’t want any of these to feel rushed </3 thank you for 100 followers ❤️❤️

彡warnings sexual content

————-꧁🪼🦈🐋🐬🦭꧂-————

lewis

pleasuring you lewis loves to satisfy the people he loves. getting them gifts, compliments, paying the bill for any meal, you name it. as long as his special ones are happy, hes happy. so in bed you can expect those same things to apply. he gets pleasure from pleasuring you, he loves it. he enjoys seeing you trembling, blushing and fucked out more than his own pleasure. thats why his favorite thing to do is eat you out. and by life itself, this man can EAT!! its almost like your pussy put a spell on him he gets so lost in the sauce. you physically have to push him off to make him stop and by that time your legs are already shaking. he really touches the ocean floor if you know what i mean!! and the d is fire!! and it will put you to sleep. lewis loves being your personal melatonin.

meaningless sex when lewis was single and needed some pleasure every once in a while, he would just go on raya or hit up one of the six trillion girls who wanted him. he wasn’t satisfied with living that way. lewis is a lover not a player. he’s been through a lot of stuff to make him this way and he learned this the hard way through his late twenties and early thirties. born to be a lover, forced to be a hoe !! fortunately though, he met you and looking back on it, he’s realized how much he hated the shallowness of it all. lewis craves for deep meaningful connections and just having sex with random women didn’t fill that hole in his heart. he had to relearn the true meaning of sex and how magical and special such an experience can be. you helped him rediscover this important aspect of his life and it feels great. being with you has definitely taught him quality over quantity.

max

loss of senses max needs to see you, so darkness is a no no. plus, more unnecessary risk of hurting yourselves. he loves the sound of your voice, weather its your moaning and whining as he works your body in every way you enjoy or its just you rambling about your day while running your soft fingers through his thin silky hair. max needs the stimulation of sight and sound to get himself going. “let me hear you” he’ll whisper into your ear

this may be why he loves his mirrors !! the only solution to this issue is to just fuck u in front of a mirror. most men love to do that for their own pleasure but the only thing max is looking at while fucking you in front of a mirror is the way your face twitches, contorts, and relaxes with every thrust. the way your doe eyes roll back and cross, further showing to him how good he fucks you. he picks you up by your neck forcing you to straighten your back as he whispers sweet praise into your ear. “you look so pretty like this baby” “you want me to keep doing that gorgeous?” “uhuh im fucking you good baby” your legs twitch every time his sweet voice sings into your ear telling you everything you need to hear.

charles

charles loves to see you in lace, latex, and silk. the way the latex hugs your figure so beautifully makes you almost look naked. weather its black, beige, white, or print he loves when you look all sexy just for him. silk is almost like maternal for him. as much as he loves to see your curves he also loves the look of ‘sheets after sex’ the open back with the jewelry and the flowy trim, he loves it. it simply just makes him want to imagine you bloated with your shared creation but still keeping your elegance and beauty along with it. the look of silk makes your skin glow like the sun and you simply look like a greek goddess in his eyes. the beautiful custom embroidery that revolves around your every curve when you wear lace is unmatched. he loves that it shows just enough that he can imagine what hes already seen but also covers enough that others cant. the sexy elegant vibe of lace changes your aura enough to make him want to eat you out through your thin panties. your beautiful skin covered by a thin soft custom embroidery made just for him makes his mind go wild.

waiting charles is very impatient when it comes to his pleasure. weather its the pleasure of winning or reaching tip of his climax so good that he’ll just want to fall asleep after, he’ll work hard to make sure he gets there, for you too. sure, he can do foreplay but only for a certain amount of time until he begins to bore. ‘lets get to the good stuff already’ ((sass)) charles is a gentleman, so he will make sure you finish before him. plus, he has amazing stamina, so don’t feel rushed to reach your climax, he can wait for that. sometimes he’ll slow down just to watch you overstimulate for a little bit longer, just until you start fussing before going rough and slow, just how u like it. “whats wrong mon cœr? don’t you like it slow?” “ahh you want it harder.. yeah, just like that.”

sebastian

cuddling (smirk) the bed creaks as seb adjusts himself to face your back swinging an arm over your waist and the other snaked around your neck. “good morning, der liebling” he greeted in his raspy low morning tone, planting soft kisses on your cheek and shoulder. you turned your head to catch his lips. “good morning sunshine” you teased his nickname. he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging his lips. he kissed your nose before diving back onto your lips, his hand now squeezing and caressing your waist and hip. you scooted back, carefully grinding your rear on his front. his hand stuck on your hip while his other now holding your neck. you continued grinding your ass back on him. little moans and purrs escaping between kisses.

full attention its important that you fully engage with seb while having relations. if you seem at all uninterested in what you’re doing he simply wont have the means to do anything anymore. its important to always make sure you’re not holding back when it comes to him. he loves when your hands are anywhere they can find groping or caressing his skin as hes burried deep in your core. he needs to feel extra wanted every time. “touch me” he whispers into your ear as he slowly inserts himself. the extra sensory makes him go wild as he resists cumming after just a couple strokes. your nails lightly scratching circles into his scalp as he’s pressing your knees into the cushion below. even when hes fucking you from behind you always reach a hand over to run down his chest and abs and make eye contact as you match his thrust rhythm.

(i might add jenson in the future but im trying to get this out for you guys asap!!)

—-

dm for tags!! plz request more ideas ❤️

[russo-woso]

Expensive || Kyra Cooney-Cross

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You and Kyra go baby shopping and don’t realise how expensive it all is.

“Kyra, please can we go in. Please.” You begged as you walked past a baby shop.

You were currently 23 weeks pregnant and were out food shopping but it wouldn’t hurt if you did a bit of baby shopping at the same time, would it?

You and Kyra had been together since you were sixteen.

You’d both met due to your mums being co workers and immediately hit it off, quickly becoming friends before lovers.

Just before the World Cup, you and Kyra had gone on holiday and she’d proposed to you.

You, of course, said yes, knowing Kyra was the love of your life.

That same summer, it was discussed that you’d be starting a new adventure in your lives:

Moving to England.

And having a baby.

The two of you were young, you knew that, but you both wanted a family.

That’s what leads you to today, 23 weeks pregnant with your baby girl.

“Five minutes, okay? That’s it.” Kyra told you, a stern look on her face which was soon replaced by a soft smile.

You both entered the shop, hand in hand, as you took in all the baby clothes.

“Look how small they are, Ky.” You whispered, taking a baby grow in your hands.

“It’s tiny. I can’t believe she’s gonna be that small.” The Australian said, rubbing your bump.

“I know. Look at these ones, they’ve got flowers on.” You pointed out, also resting a hand on your bump, feeling your daughter kick.

“We’ve got to get them.” Kyra said, placing the baby grows in the basket.

You watched as Kyra wandered, looking at the different clothes, often putting some in the basket.

You smiled, looking at the excitement on her face.

Most people didn’t often see this side of Kyra.

They all saw the side of her where she’d be classed as a pest, where she’s immature and can’t take things seriously.

That’s why most people were shocked when you announced the pregnancy. Everyone thought the two of you weren’t ready for a baby.

You, however, saw the mature side of her. The side where she would do anything for anyone, where she could take things seriously.

“Baby, should we get a car seat too?” She questioned, wrapping her arm round your waist.

“I thought you said we’d only be here five minutes? Getting a car seats gonna take more than that?” You teased

“Yeah, but I figured we might as well get one whilst we’re here.” Kyra said and you nodded, slowly walking over to the wall of car seats. “So where do we start? We’re getting the comfiest one for our princess.”

—

“I think we’re all sorted.” You told Kyra as you looked down at the trolley.

Yes, the trolley, not the basket anymore. You’d ended up getting so much, Kyra had to run and get a trolley instead.

Inside the trolley was piles of clothes, A box containing a car seat, A crib that Kyra insisted she’d be able to build herself, a pump for breastfeeding, bottles, dummies, and anything else that could possibly be needed.

“I think we are.” Kyra agreed, smiling proudly before pushing the trolley to the cashier.

After what felt like an hour of the cashier scanning all the items, the total number of what was due was announced.

“And that would be £632.84 please.” The cashier revealed and your eyes widened.

“£632?” You questioned in shock as the person on the till nodded. “Ky, that’s so…”

“Our princess deserves it all.” Kyra said before you could finish your sentence, pressing a kiss to your temple before paying.

Putting the items back in the trolley, you walked out the shop two hours after when you’d walked in.

“Mama loves you so much.” You told your bump as you waddled to the car.

“I do, I love both of you, no matter how expensive you both are.”

[itneverendshere]

ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)

warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...

The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.

Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.

“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.

Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.

Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.

And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.

Rafe.

Of course, he looked good.

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 

He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.

He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 

His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.

“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”

Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.

The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did

Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.

You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 

“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—

Bang!

In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.

Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 

And you hated that you still kind of liked it.

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.

You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.

He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.

The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 

Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.

But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.

You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.

After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?

The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.

But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.

"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"

You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.

The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.

And then he smirked.

It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.

“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.

You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.

Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.

The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.

When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.

And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.

You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.

And then you saw him. Of course, you did.

Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.

You hated how your heart skipped.

Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.

"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”

As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.

"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."

But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."

Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.

Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."

Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.

"Plans, huh?"

Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?

“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”

He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.

“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.

He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.

You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”

“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”

But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 

“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.

Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.

“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.

He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 

“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.

You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.

Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.

He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 

“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”

“That was an accident.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.

“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.

“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 

He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.

“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.

“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.

His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

“Don’t—”

But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.

And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 

This was so wrong, on so many levels. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.

Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”

You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.

“Oh, you will.”

And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.

You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.

His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.

You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.

But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.

When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.

Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.

There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.

"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.

“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.

Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."

His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.

You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.

How much you wanted him.

“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.

“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”

You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.

“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.

“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”

You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.

Always.

“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.

Maybe not for a while.

And Rafe knew it.

His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 

“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”

You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.

He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.

“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.

Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.

 You hated how much you needed this. 

“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.

You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”

Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.

You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.

His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"

Sonofabitch.

“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.

You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.

He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”

“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”

He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.

But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.

Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.

Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 

There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.

And you hated how good it felt.

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”

You couldn’t.

The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.

The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 

“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”

You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.

You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.

Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.

“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.

You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”

“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”

"Like hell," you spat back.

He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.

 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”

Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.

The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.

His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”

You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.

“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.

But he wasn’t done.

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

And God, you couldn’t.

His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.

“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”

You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.

“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”

You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.

“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.

His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”

And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.

Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.

The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 

What the fuck had you done?

You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.

“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.

He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”

You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”

Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.

He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.

“Good luck finding your date.”

Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.

You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.

He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”

His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”

His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”

Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 

Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.

But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”

You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”

It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.

Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.

“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.

His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."

"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."

Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.

“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”

"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.

It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.

Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 

That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.

But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”

“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.

But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.

"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”

His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"

"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."

You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.

Because you both knew he wouldn’t.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

[m3l0nfl0at]

just thinking about you - s. gojo

Gojo Satoru x GN! Reader ; ANGST, hurt/comfort, spoilers for non manga readers, happy ending, swearing, 1.3k words, GOJO STANS WE UP BCOS HES COMING BACK TODAY!!

summary ; GOJO COMEBACK BCOS I SAID SO

melon’s recommended melody ; little freak - harry styles

Ever since the day Satoru died, you wanted nothing to do with Jujutsu society. Why would you want anything to do with the society who sold your partner as a mere weapon and nothing more. If it wasn’t for them putting all the pressure on him, maybe he would still be here with you, in your arms. You wonder if there was anything you did wrong leading up to the fight. Maybe not telling him you loved him enough, that he wasn’t just the strongest to you, or telling him to give up Jujutsu society altogether after the multiple incidents with Geto. However, that’s just you being selfish, you knew Gojo wanted to change the society he grew up in and who were you to stop him.

You remember the day he left so vividly, teleporting you to some strange city only to tell you to stay. He caressed your face repeating that he wanted nothing bad to happen to you and this was the only way to keep you safe. That whole night you spent the day in each other’s arms, repeating to him that he was going to win. To which he made a snarky comment saying, he would never lose to an asshole who calls himself “The King of Curses”. You remember that night an ugly feeling in your stomach settled and never went away. If you had to put your finger on it, you think you could call it anxiety. Anxiety, that if Satoru did come back, would he come back as the same person you knew and loved?

What would happen if he killed Sukuna and wasn’t able to save Megumi? Could he live with himself? Would he be able to sleep at night knowing he couldn’t save one of his students? Who was to say Satoru is guaranteed a win to begin with? You had to hold on to a string of false hope that Satoru would be able to defeat someone as strong as Sukuna. Not even letting your brain allow the option to think negatively at a time like this. So that morning you really cemented it into his brain that he will win and he’ll come back to you safe and sound. It was the only thing you could do. In this moment you wish you were a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer like himself. So you could possibly fight beside him, give him a fighting chance but you barely made it to be a grade one sorcerer.

Satoru reassured you saying that he was the strongest, nothing was going to go wrong and he would come back to you unharmed. As he warped back to where the fight was, you went to lie in bed. Not allowing yourself to think about anything else but Satoru winning. Yet, day turned into night and night turned into days. No one called to reassure you he was fine. You thought maybe he’s staying back to make sure his students were okay before making his way to you. Satoru was always one to arrive late for an event but he never once arrived late for anything pertaining to you. A couple of days pass by, as you look at your phone to see Shoko calling you. Your heart drops, palms are sweating, and your knees feel shaky. You were hesitant to answer, Gojo never said Shoko would call you if he won, hell Gojo said he would be with you after he won. So where is he, he won right? He had to have won, winning is in his birthright!

Answering that call was the worst decision of your life, Shoko told you how she had Satoru’s body and intended to use it. She explained the plan, how Gojo agreed to let Yuta use his body. You felt angry at Satoru for not explaining that he had enough doubts to the point where he had to make a backup plan.

Sick to your stomach that he could let himself get used like that beyond his death? What about what you wanted for him, what about how you wanted him here to properly grieve him. You hung up the call on Shoko not wanting to hear anything else, Satoru is dead. Not only did he lose but he left you here with no one, nothing in this stupid city he teleported you to. You walked out of the building, seeing the snow fall, feeling bitterness seep into you. How dare life go on without Satoru Gojo. You balled up the cold snow in your bare hands wanting to feel something, whether it be the cold or the burn in your hand from how freezing the ice was. Yet nothing came, you let go seeing your hand red and red is what you were seeing. “I hate you Satoru Gojo! I hope you hear that up there! How could you do this to me! How could you leave me here alone!” Feeling the cold hit your face as you scream into the wind. You didn’t move, feeling the cold nip at your body that was hot with anger.

After that day, you realized you couldn’t change anything. No outcome could bring Satoru back to you. In this cruel world the only thing you can do after one dies, is live on. You got numerous calls from Shoko choosing to ignore every single one. What could she possibly tell you that would make you feel better? Going outside to watch the snow melt away, hugging your knees. You hoped someone beat “The King of Curses” ass. That bastard had taken Satoru away from you, you’d hope he’d burn in hell. Snapping out of your thoughts when you heard the snow crunching from down the road. You turn around quickly wielding your cursed tool, the worst it could be was a curse but it’s not like you couldn’t handle it. At this point you really couldn’t care if you died, maybe dying would make you feel something you haven’t felt in days.

“Woah, no need to wield your tool!”, you freeze knowing that voice from anywhere. Your frozen state soon turns to anger wanting to kill whatever curse this was playing with you. Not yielding, he steps closer as you slice your tool downward warning whatever that was to not come any closer to you. “Stop right there, whatever you are!”, you have to remind yourself that he was dead. That’s not him, it can’t be, Satoru puts up his hands. “You know if you answered Shoko’s calls you would know I was coming.”, Satoru glances at you but it was no use. Knowing there was nothing more he could say, he lifts up his shirt showing you the scar where his body was cut in half. You falter, he sees your eyes soften just a bit. “Only I know you’re here, I teleported you here. I made sure no curses were in this area before taking you here.”, you drop your tool. Still feeling hesitant, debating if you were dreaming or Satoru was actually in front of you.

“I’m dreaming, the cold finally got to my head. You’re not here Satoru, you’re dead, you’ve been dead. Oh my god, I've got to get out of this town, I’m going crazy.” You cover your face with your hands, rubbing your eyes as hard as you could. Shit, maybe you need to get more sleep because you will not allow yourself to hallucinate like this. Feeling his hands peel your hands off your face, you start tearing up. “I’m here, I’m real.”, you shake your head not believing that this is real. “Am I dead? Is this heaven?”, Satoru laughs, pulling you into a hug. You feel the rumbling in his chest as you lay against it. “I didn’t win or come back unharmed but I told you I would come back to you, didn’t I?”, you allow yourself to feel this moment, scared that this was all a dream. If this was a dream you hoped to never wake up. Wanting to hold onto him forever after almost losing him for good. “I’m here, I’m not leaving anytime soon. I promise.”

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: idc what happens later today, hes back bcos i said so

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[onlyangel4]

skinny dipping. mv1. smau.

max verstappen x ex!girlfriend reader

in which max and reader dated up until they were nineteen, when max ended the relationship so he could focus on his career but a chance encounter sees them reconnecting.

faceclaim: olivia cooke

y/ninsta posted a story

written: canceled plans means retail therapy and this is the fit of choice. i look insane.

maxverstappensightings posted a story

written: max was spotted walking around a shopping centre in belgium

y/ninsta posted a story tagging y/bff and belladubois

written: as usual the girls arrive first

y/ninsta posted a story tagging marcuslambert, liammaes, lucaslambert and maxverstappen

written: and the boys have finally made it.

maxverstappen posted a story

written: a day for reconnecting with old friends

y/ninsta posted a story marcuslambert, liammaes, lucasdukes and maxverstappen

written: the boys

y/ninsta posted a story tagging y/bff and belladubois

written: the girlies

f1wags

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 45,293 others

f1wags: max verstappen spotted in belgium with y/n y/ln. those that do not know who y/n is, she was max's first ever girlfriend and she was about during his early days of f1 with a group of his friends that got nicknamed "max's cheerleader" but one random day they just dissapeared and it came out that max had pulled away from them to focus on racing. but four months ago they started posting each other again max has been coming back to belgium a lot more in between races.

view all 2,192 comments

user1: i can't believe we are getting max and y/n content in 2024 that is actually insane

user2: omg my fav couple could be back for good

user3: every time i have seen pictures of them together they both look really happy

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: she got so excited because her glasses match my drink

y/ninsta posted a story

written: last day of 26

marcuslambert posted a story tagging, maxverstappen, y/bff and y/ninsta

written: happy birthday to my fav chaotic mess y/ninsta

belladubois posted a story tagging liammaes, maxverstappen and y/ninsta

written: happy birthday to my fav third wheel turned double date partner

liammaes posted a story tagging belladubois and y/ninsta

written: omg it is y/n day

lucasdukes posted a story tagging y/ninsta, y/bff and maxverstappen

written: i tried looking for a normal picture of y/n and this was all i found

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: celebrating my favourite person

maxverstappen posted a story

written: someone is happy with the birthday desert that the restaurant provided

y/bff posted a story

written: why tf is she holding it like that, mY pReCIoUs

maxverstappen posted a story

written: safe to say y/n loves cake

maxverstappen

liked by y/ninsta, belladubois, marcuslambert and 1,392,384 others

tagged: y/ninsta

maxverstappen: happy birthday my love

view all 59,293 comments

y/ninsta: i love you so much but those pictures are questionable

maxverstappen: they really capture your vibe

belladubois: love you both, can't wait for all the double dates to come

maxverstappen: thank you bells

y/bff: she is still mine

maxverstappen: don't worry she made that very clear

liammaes: did y/n have to teach you what a hard launch is

maxverstappen: no

marcuslambert: y/ninsta is he lying

y/ninsta: he is definitely lying

lucasdukes: so happy for you both

maxverstappen: thanks man

user4: i can't believe in the 2024 we have max y/n again and all six of max's cheerleaders commenting on his instagram

user5: i am so happy that you guys are actually together

user6: i can't believe he posted this at ten minutes to midnight on her birthday

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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[angel1010xx]

ｃｉｇａｒｅｔｔｅｓ

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You hated cigarettes.

Cigarettes were stuffy and overwhelming, the scent lingered for hours, and the smoke made your lungs feel closed up. They were complete bombardments to your senses, and genuinely? You felt as if the world would be better off without them. Smoking is a bad habit, after all. Why would anyone willingly choose to give themselves lung cancer and an early grave?

The Thousand Sunny was having a lively night. Brooks was merrily serenading the crew, while each of them were on their own missions. Zoro was drinking (to death, probably, how was his liver still functioning?), Usopp was reliving the latest battle with Luffy, Franky, and Chopper (with embellishments, of course, not that his audience would be able to detect them), and Nami and Robin were sucked into their books (they were so perfect, the crew hardly deserved the gift of their presence). That just left Sanji.

Running around, fawning over “Nami-Swan,” and lighting yet another cigarette.

Yes, he was a phenomenal chef. Yes, he was doting and chivalrous. Yes, he was charismatic and consistent, and it was so hard to find a man that to actually abide by a moral code. But God, he was perverted. He was unbearable. And he reeked like menthol.

Sighing, you crossed your wrists over each other and leaned on the railing of the ship. The Grand Line was dangerous, but it was beautiful when the moonlight reflected across the water. The sights, the wind in your face, and the freedom made all the trouble worth the adventure. You were apart from the main crowd, opting for some personal space at the front of the ship. The Straw Hat crew was your family; and true to life, everyone needs their elbow room sometimes, even from the ones they love most. 

Approaching footsteps interrupted your peace. Looking over your shoulder, you spotted Sanji walking towards you. Great, you thought. He gazed at you with a slight tension in his brow. “The fish is ready. Are you going to eat?”

“In a little bit, yes,” you responded. “I just wanted some fresh air and quiet right now.” Sanji settled in, standing beside you, mimicking your pose by also leaning against the railing. “I hope you come down soon,” he spoke in a low voice. “Our princess-warrior needs her strength just like the rest of us.” 

A smile tugged at your lips. “I’m scared, Sanji,” you whispered, choosing to open up to him. “The world is changing. I worry about my people at home. I know there’s ample resources and military force to keep them safe, but…” you trailed off, eyes shifting from focusing and losing focusing on the sea waves. Sanji let out a hum, and pulled out a cigarette and a light. You cocked your head towards him, this time with a slight lip curl. “You just had one. Do you really have to smoke another one, right here?”

He let out a puff of smoke and a chuckle. “Mon amour, we all have ways of dealing with our stress.” 

Sanji shifted to face his body towards you, but kept one arm on the railing. “You can’t sit there and worry about your people all day and night. I see it on your face every time I look at you. It practically breaks my heart,” he paused to place his free hand on his chest. He broke out into a warm smile. “Right here and now, princess, you are safe, and they are safe too.” 

You let out a deep breath, doing your best to soak in his words. “Thank you, Sanji.” He let out another hum, put out his cigarette, and brought you in for a hug. “Of course, mon amour.”

Yes, he smelled like menthol. Yes, you had a hard time breathing. But he also smelled like cologne. He was warm, and the feeling of his breath down the side of your neck made you shiver. A thought came into your mind for a split second—what would it be like to taste the cigarette, if you were to press your lips to his own?

It’s a fine line between love and hate, after all. 

[loverslodge]

Glitch

summery: you is a broken mutant and Bucky is very adamant to protect her

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warning: experiments, violence, ptsd, angst, fluff

A/N: finally a bucky baby romance. love him so much i want to cuddle him to death.

You didn't know how to react. You were kissing Bucky Barnes and you didn't know how to react. This was not the way you thought kissing Bucky Barnes for the first time would go.

You joined the team over two years ago. You weren't an agent, you were a lab rat. Well, a lab rat is a harsh way of putting things. You had somehow gained some sort of superpowers. You were attacked during the Ultron takeover and something burst near you that gave you just enough powers that could make you glitch. Many glitches later, you determined that it was the panicked adrenaline that set off the glitches and once you calmed down, everything was ‘normal’. Someone must have found out about you after years so SHIELD came to you. They basically kidnapped you and shoved you in their labs.

You met The Avengers. The new recruits as well. Including the famed Winter Soldier. You have seen him work, when he was under control. Actually, they had exchanged conversations. He did save you from an enemy, the one he was supposed to assassinate. But he was beat so you had nursed him. You had left the next day, you were on the run after all. And now, here you were again, meeting him. He didn't remember you and why would he? You were nobody with whom he shared a passionate kiss as Winter Soldier. He made her a promise that he'll come back for you but you knew you weren't going to see each other again.

He stood on the other side of the glass and was talking to Captain America and Iron Man about something. He kept on glancing and pointing at you. You also saw the Eye Patch Man join the discussion. Winter Soldier was getting angry, frustrated maybe, you couldn't really tell. Captain America put a hand on his shoulder and patted his back. He huffed in frustration and left the room.

Bucky saw the state you were in. none of the avengers were allowed in that facility till two years later. He was shocked to see you, a person, like him, treated like a lab rat just like he was. Something about you seemed familiar but he couldn't put a finger on it. He got angry. They told him she was going to be part of the team and yet she was trapped in a glass cage for everyone to look at. She had wires attached to her. She seemed unbothered, unfeeling even. It broke him a little, to see you give up. He used to be like this, then he got friends and they helped but you had nobody. He had Steve. He argued with Tony and Fury but they said you needed more time. He knew what that meant. They were willing to keep you in there till they had control over you. He didn't like that. All of them walked in the conference room where the rest were. They all put out points. Wanda saw his point and agreed, so did Natasha. They finally agreed to have her roam free in the compound but she would be engaged in the lab with Banner. She would be his helping hand and might also be part of experiments that will help her. They explained to Bucky why you needed to be experimented on. You had become part mutant which was not good for you. Either they can help you be a complete mutant or take away the powers and turn you human. Till they find the root of it all, they couldn't even give you options. Bucky agreed. He just wanted you not tied to the wires.

You got your own room. To your right was Wanda, to your left was Natasha and across you was a huge room of Winter Soldier, whom you now know as Bucky Barnes. You were introduced to almost everyone. Others later, once they came back from their missions. They were so nice to you. Especially Wanda and Natasha. But you knew, they had you close because they were supposed to watch you. Make sure you dont glitch on the compound and if you do, drag you straight to the labs. Sleep was evasive. You would wake up glitching because of nightmares. You would not sleep with water because it gave you a reason to walk to the kitchen and settle your glitch. Every night you would meet Bucky there. You didn't talk but both of you shared a silence. He kept your glitches a secret from Fury. and that made you want to look for a solution even harder. You didn't want him to be in trouble because you were sure it was because of him you roamed free.

You avoided Tony’s parties. But your window provided enough entertainment of these parties. You would gaze down and see people buzzing. Sometimes you had tears in your eyes and sometimes you glitched. Bucky knew you were watching. It was obvious. He felt eyes on him and he could hear your little squeaks when he looked up at your window. He liked having you around but he didnt know how to help. So he would stay silent. He followed your schedule. He knew you had nightmares. He also knew you liked to go to the kitchen to grab water because it took your mind off. He started to wait for you. The moment he would hear your door lock after you after you returned from the kitchen, he would go back to sleep as well. He wanted to keep you safe, he doesn't know why.

It was the Fourth of July. It was also Captain Rogers’ birthday. You loved to make small desserts so you thought this was a good time of showing the team that you were grateful for inclusion. You gave the first piece to Steve and he very graciously accepted. He loved it so much he asked you to bake some more for him whenever you had time. You blushed. He nodded vigorously and bumped into Bucky. He insisted you call him that. You offered him your dessert. He didn't have to say he liked it, his face and eyes talked for him. You felt your heartbeat rise and you ducked away from them, yelling ‘happy birthday steve’. That was the loudest he had heard you. He loved your smile. He loved your voice. Even though none of it was directed to him, he still soaked them in.

You started to open up more. Not a lot, just enough for people to interact more casually with you. You started to spend more time in the kitchen. It started relaxing you. You did glitch sometimes, if startled, but over all, you were getting ‘better’. Dr. Banner had taken your blood samples and had been working on reconstructing your cells. He said something about broken threads needing to be sewed but you wouldnt understand. You were more of a stenographer in the lab, everything Banner said was written down. You were happier, more relaxed. Even tried to step outside the compound once but someone saw you glitch and you ran back to your room. You spent more time with Bucky too. He said he could train you and you had said yes. Twice a week was your schedule with him. He would make sure you both were alone in the gym and so, even if you glitched, he would be there to calm you. His presence did that to you. Calmed you so much that even the tiniest glitch disappeared. Just like it did when he had kissed you way back.

There was a part of this though. You were very scared of fireworks. It reminded you of your lonely years and attacks. You had been dealing well because New York had been protected by The Avengers. You rarely hear fireworks too. Just during the New Years this year but they were muffled because FRIDAY had turned on sound blockers after seeing you flinch, glitch and shiver.

The celebrations began. You were in your room again, looking down the window. Your eyes were following Bucky. Again. He was enjoying his drink with Steve and Sam. he glanced up and you squeaked and slid down to hide. You still weren't aware that people couldn't see you from down there but Bucky loved it. He loved that your eyes followed him everywhere. But then he heard Tony say that he had bought shit-ton of fireworks this year to celebrate Steve. He tensed. He weaved his way to your room. You were unaware of this blasting development and gazed down at the people. Bucky knew you feared fireworks. FRIDAY told him after the first time. He was vigilant and made sure nothing startled you but he would always startle you. He was very stealthy after all.

He was seconds away from your room when the fireworks started. You jumped and glitched and screamed. He heard you. He ran. He asked FRIDAY to open your door. He saw you glitching and quivering under your blanket. He rushed in. He held you tight and covered your ears. The sound blockers were not working. You grabbed his shirt. You think you tore it a little but it didn't matter. You were holding onto him for your dear life. You were hyperventilating.

“Can't… breathe…” you huffed, trying to regain your pulse.

“Breath with me, y/n. Here, feel me. See, I am breathing well, yes?” he tore off his shirt and placed your palm on his heart. It did calm you a little but not enough. You tried to concentrate on his breathing but the loud fireworks riled you up even more.

He had read that stopping someone’s breathing for a few seconds would help with hyperventilation. He could choke you but you were a blubbering mess and he didn't want to leave marks saying he tried to kill you to save you. So he did the only logic that spun in his head. He pressed his lips against your. His hands were cupping your face and his lips firmly against yours. He felt your breath hitching to a stop and he sighed. He held for a few more seconds to actually feel your body relax against his. But something unexpected happened. Your lips moved against his. Now his breath hitched. You were kissing him. You angled your head for better access and he registered that. He immediately pulled you on his lap and moved his lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue went right in. you moaned. The familiar feeling of kissing him was back and you didn't want to let him go. Your hand moved from his chest to his neck, pulling him closer. His hand held your waist tightly against himself and the other cupped the back of your neck.

Suddenly he was transported to his Winter Soldier days. One day to be very specific where he had almost become Bucky just because he shared a heated moment with a girl. That familiar touch, that moan and those lips. They were the same. He latched onto you even further. He remembered you. He went back to look for you but you were long gone. Then shit went down and he came back to be Steve’s best friend. He had forgotten about you, almost, till this very moment. He cradled your head and tried to pull back to let you breath but you caught his lips again. As if you were thirsty. He chuckled and started caressing your head. He slowed down the pace of the kiss and you calmed down. You slowly pulled away and looked down. Your face was on fire. The fireworks had died down.

He cupped your face and tilted it to make you look at him. “It was you, the one who almost pulled me out of my insanity. I have you back in my arms.” he sighed and kissed your forehead. “Are you okay? I will talk to Tony to not schedule updates on fireworks days.”

“I thought you didn't remember me.” your voice came in whispers. “I'm okay. Now. I didn't mean to pull you away from Steve’s party. I, uh, waited for you. A bit. Back then. But I had to run.”

“You didn't pull me away from anywhere, doll. I came to you myself. I always found you familiar but it was your kiss that reminded me that you were the one I had lost back then. Now you wont run, will you?” He asked, looking at you. You shook your head and he pulled you to his chest. You could hear his heartbeat clearly. You breathed deep. You were exhausted after the episode.

“Let’s get you to bed.” he stood up and carried you to his room. Your blanket was still wrapped around you. He lowered you down on his mattress and went to change out his clothes. You nestled deeper into his bed and tried to keep your eyes open. He trudged back in the room and got in bed beside you. Your arms immediately went for him and he let you pull him to you.

“You will not let me go again, will you?” you asked softly.

“Never. You are holding on to me forever.” he wrapped his arms around you and you both snuggle to sleep.

[imwetforyourmom]

JUST FINE.

CW: Unrequited love, unresolved angst, crying, swearing, cheating in a way if you think about it, yelling

SUMMARY: When you’re the only thing Chris has ever wanted, and ever will, but, when you dont see him that way, and probably wont ever, how will he take it? Or, you’ve stood the poor boy up on a date, hoping he’d get the hint.

A/N: Doc give it to me straight, did I fall off?

·˚ ༘

“You didnt have to do that.”

The dark alley way lit you and Derek, the light providing the perfect visionary to Chris’ nightmares. But, oh gosh, how he wished it hadnt. He would’ve given anything to not see your and his actions. It all sending an itch to gag at the back of his throat and tears beginning to take their place along his waterline.

His eyes took in what they could with his consistent wiping of the back of his hands to rid of the shedding tears, trying to see, to acknowledge what you wouldnt do to Chris, what you could never picture doing with Chris.

What wasnt meant to be for Chris. Your hands were never meant to be running along his body, rubbing seductively while your lips pressed against his, your lips teasingly keeping shut, depriving him of a more intimate kiss. But, what more depriving than watching the love of your life do the actions you’d begged for if she’d asked, do to another without hesitation? No holding back seemingly present in your movements, everything raw and unforgiving to chris. Why couldnt that be him?

Why couldnt he be the one pinning you against the brick red wall, why couldnt he be the one you were moaning and inhaling sharply for, the one where your stomach fluttered with butterflies, the one where you planned to live old with? Why couldnt he be ‘the one’?

Why wasnt he meant for your love? Why was fucking derek the one in his place? Out of all people.. Derek. Derek was the one you desired the most, the one you couldnt hold your composure with, the one your heart beat raced with.

Why couldnt it fucking be him?

His body felt heavy with each second he stared, his eyes beginning to puff with each unshed tear, or hard sob being held deep into his throat, making it harder for him to watch your sinful actions.

The flowers he’d especially boughten because they were your favorite, slowly began slipping from his loosened grip. Too distracted with the utter sight of your carefree actions to keep hold of the now useless flowers.

If you’d told him a year ago, he’d be here, watching his unrequited love makeout with another man—after standing him up, he would’ve laughed in your face. Collected his breathing, and looked you into the eyes, with a puzzled expression, “who is my ‘unrequited love’?” even despite the gleam in his eyes that was present just minutes ago, now gone with the forced laughter that escaped his body.

His body would crash on the inside, but his face would stay stoned, eyebrows raised with questionairre and a clenched fist with the grasp of the little tamed composure he had left. He’d act as if he’d no clue whom his unrequited lover was, but, as much as he wish he did, he knew who she was and now the name brought an itch to throw up at the back of his throat.

The mere thought of you would strike his entire being with the pain he thought he’d never experience, but thats what everyone thinks, until it happens, then they’re never the same.

Everyone swears the love they experienced in highschool was one of tragedies, but tragedies to adore, to admire, to wish you’d had.

Its the tragedies that get to your soul, tear you apart and leave you with the thought ‘Will I ever be the same?’ tears lining your eyes and the ghost feeling of being ‘you’ again, whoever that cold, distant memory may be.

Till that special person falls to their knees and mends you back together entirely, their hand a delicate reminder that you’ll always be worth something to them, never differentaiting from the earths grime, to the earths wonders, the northern lights being danced inside your eyes, but even the skies that withold the mesmerizing colors go dark, see the nights light, an uninteresting black, but they still stand colorful again.

All it takes, is that special person.

And Chris wasnt your special person, the one that would hold your face in his palms and whisper soothing praises as you cry about the tragedies currently overtaking your soul and claiming it as its own.

Derek was gonna be that person, at least, for what he hoped, until highschool was over.

A few years later, on that same street, Chris thought he healed, he’d wished he had, but he knew he didnt. Sure, maybe majority of him healed, but deep down, in his gut he knew a part of him would never heal from the possibilites of you and Chris becoming more, becoming everything he’d ever dreamed of.

His mind never left that brick red wall, too tangled with the mingling of your and Dereks bodies, lost in the desperation and confusion of why he couldnt be Derek. What did Derek have that Chris didnt? What was so good about Derek?

But to you, your voice could never end when Derek was mentioned, the nervous beating of your heart when his name was even mentioned, you could go on and on about Derek, seemingly never having an end towardd what was so good about Derek, and when Chris was mentioned, your arms cradled yourself, curling into yourself as the guilt in your stomach filled, replacing the rapid beating of your heart with its rightful pace.

You knew what you did that night, you saw Chris watching you and Derek, but in that moment, you were too caught up with the fire Dereks fingertips danced along your skin, his lips pressing on yours with comfort and need all at the same time.

Everything about Derek was everything you’ve ever described as ‘begging to want’, the love you’ve so desperately latched onto even the second it was offered, with no thought. Too desperate to experience the love you’d crave everynight, cradling yourself in your arms as your mind did the best it could, creating the fake scenarios for love.

Nothing about Chris was in your desires, nothing he seemed to do gave you the same fluttery in your stomach as Derek did. Even when Chris did his best to adopt Dereks mannerisms, try and be a little more like him—he couldnt. That wasnt him, Derek wasnt him. He was Chris, he just needed to accept the fact that he was him.

The sound of small splashes against rain puddles and footsteps broke Chris’s train of thought, his ghost train, to be specific, his better judgement the ambulance just begging to save him.

He looked away from the same spot he witnessed his entire world fall, only to meet your gaze. The same, cheerful gleam in your eyes, warmfilled smile overtaking your features. Everything about you was comforting.

“What’re you doing out here at,”—you pulled your puffed jacket sleeve from your wrist, checking the familar patterned numbers on the watch, comfortably placed on your wrist, before looking back at Chris—“Twelve ‘o clock at night?” You asked, even with the question in your voice, the same bubbly features remained on your face.

Chris looked back at the wall beside the streetlight, licking his lips dryly as he thought of an answer, his mind running laps, desperate for a reason as of why he was here.

His head dropped to look at his feet, his throat closing with the dry sensation.

“Just, y’know, thinking.” He replied, looking back at you, his tongue peeking back out to lick his lips again.

“What about?” Your curiosity overtook your tongue, though, chris expected no less. You were always naturally curious.

“Us,” his eye contact faltered, deciding it’d just be best to stop lying, to stop living his life in his own shadow.

Your eyebrows stitched, your loud smile beginning to fall to a slight frown. “Whats there to think about us, Chris?”

“Everything, Y/n,” he looked away again, his voice faltering between a cracked whisper, to the non-chalant tone he was desperate to keep.

“I cant keep pretending like im happy with ‘us’. I’m not, fuck, I’ve never been happy with how we are. I dont want this.” He shook his head, closing his eyes as he fought the overwhelming emotions slowly taking over his features, the frown enveloping his mouth, the slight crack in his voice each time he spoke and a slow start to the never ending whirlwind of emotions he’s about to speak of, and experience, all over again.

Your eyes ran over his face, slowly understanding everything that he was saying. Your heart fought its own thumps to stay unwounded from his own hurt.

“Chris, I-“ your voice was cut off with his, a seemingly urgence in the way he spoke.

“No. Let me finish.” He shifted on his feet before turning to look at you, taking in a small breath as preperation before continuing.

“I, I was fucking standing there, watching as you and Derek got all- fuckin,” his voice began to break, thinking of the night he witnessed why you stood him up, “all that. Do you know how fucking bad you hurt me that night? Words dont even begin to explain how hurt I was. You were feeling Derek up, while I was fuckin crying in the empty space of my room.” He exasperated, the look in his eyes gave it all away, he still wasnt finished. His mouth was still full of words he wanted to say, but he wanted to let his previous words sink in first.

“Chris, im sorry, I really am—I dont know what I was thinking- I truly am sorry.” You begged, your eyes filled with sympathy and your voice beginning to crack with guilt.

“You can’t say that, Y/n, you’re not sorry. You dont have a right to be sorry, all you had to do, Y/n, all you had to do was go on the date with me. You didnt fucking have to stand me up, you could’ve even shot me a text cancelling the date, but you didnt. You didnt, you left me there to watch. To watch what you weren’t willing to do with me. And I get that, I understand that you dont want me, but you could’ve fucking said that!” He snapped, his emotioms overtaking his everything. Tears brimmed at his eyes, his voice gave signs to the vulnerabilty he was giving.

“You didnt have to do that.” He sighed, unwilling to let the rest of his emotions flow, he didnt want you to see what you did to him, only hear what you caused.

The shield you’d made just minutes ago to keep your heart together, crashed down. You could feel the radiating thump of your heart against your rib cage throughout your entire body, but none of it amounted to the pure guilt that claimed your body, the sinking hole inside your chest beginning to sink with the guilt overlapping, becoming too heavy.

Tears brimmed at your waterline, a lump grew in your throat, creating the effort you should’ve put in Chris, now replaced with the effort to apologize to Chris.

“Please Chris, you need to understand, I didnt mean to hurt you!” You begged, your voice becoming desperate. Yet, not even beginning to be as desperate as Chris ever was.

Hearing your words sent anger coursing through his blood, “Didnt mean to hurt me? You didnt fucking mean to hurt me? Can you hear yourself, Y/n? Are you out of your mind? Of fucking course you were gonna hurt me! You stood me up for some low life, I would’ve given you the world! But you chose fucking Derek—who, remind me, left you for a slut? No?” His words pierced right through you, re-opening the carefully stiched wounds Derek had left on you.

Fighting off the sobs became weaker and weaker, before your body felt absolutely broken from it all. Sobs racked through your body, and guilt replaced the tears spilling from your cheeks.

“No, no, no, Y/n, its fine. I’ll be just fine without you.” He mocked, shaking his head before sparing you one last glance, moving his begrudgingly feet away from you, walking away and leaving you there just as you’d done to him.

Even despite the pure need Chris felt to run back to you, to cradle you in his arms, soothe and apologize to you, he knew you didnt deserve that, he knew he was better than what you were going to offer to him anyways. You didnt fucking deserve the love and pure adoration Chris would’ve offered, would’ve given with no hesitation.

2096 words.

TAGS

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[gguk-n]

Chapter 4- Love Unveiled

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N decides to give Oscar a chance, to give them a chance and she does not regret that one bit, except for how they got caught or maybe everyone already knew.

Implied smut

Y/N couldn't sleep. She saw the sunrise but her mind was preoccupied with everything Oscar had said. The past few days, the time they had spent together, the way he made her laugh, how he was the only person ever to coerce her with his puppy eyes. But was it worth it? Was it worth ruining the family friendship and dynamic she had going with his family. They had practically raised her; they would take care of her like their own, it wasn't right to do something like this to them. And even if Oscar's feelings were real, even if she decided to be with him; what if things don't work out one day and they break up. What then? Who was she supposed to go to? She would lose a part of her, why would they take her side when Oscar was theirs? Would her brother take her side or would he get angry for ruining everything? In hind sight, Oscar's a catch; no doubt about that. But she wasn't about to ruin everything for some fleeting moments. That's what she thought and decided to catch Oscar before he left. She sprinted to the guest room to find the door ajar. Oscar had left, when, she didn't hear a thing? Was she so caught up in her thoughts? Maybe this was for the best, maybe not seeing Oscar anymore would fix this.

Y/N decided to avoid Oscar like the plague, she didn't go to his house at all. A part of her did want to but she could wait until he left. That's what those weird feeling were right? The tightness in her chest when she thought about Oscar or the feeling of his hands on her; she craved the familiarity. She didn't like Oscar, surely. Nicole had called her over for dinner a few days before school was supposed to start and since Oscar was around she lied and said that she wasn't feeling well. What she didn't expect was Oscar to show up with hot soup and food. She opened the door to find Oscar stood there with a worried look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, "Why are you here?" she asked. "mum said you were sick, so I brought food over" he said holding the packet in his hand. "I..." she was speechless. "You lied" that's when it dawned on Oscar that she had lied so that she wouldn't have to see Oscar. "Do you hate me that much?" his voice cracked as he asked. "No Oscar I don't hate you. I just....it would've been weird" she began but stopped when she saw tears falling from his eyes. Oscar never cried, not in the 18 years she had known him. Even when he fell or scraped himself, he would just dust himself off and get up. It broke her heart knowing she was the reason for his tears.

She raised her hands to wipe away his tears but Oscar flinched. It made her heart break. "Don't. You don't get to wipe my tears" is all he said before he dropped the packet on the floor and left. Even though Y/N called him out, he just left. She picked up the food and walked in. The night was another sleepless night on Y/N's end. Oscar cried a lot, he went to bed early and didn't get out the next morning. Y/N was starting to feel uneasy; maybe she had been too harsh on Oscar. She should've at least rejected him so that the both of them could move on. But a part of her couldn't; that's why she had been avoiding him.

The next day on call with Nicole; "Do you feel better now, darling?" she asked. "The soup was very good, I need the recipe" Y/N said avoiding the question. "I have no clue, Oscar made it for you" she replied. "What?" Y/N asked. "Poor boy was so worried that you were sick, he made the food and said he'd bring it over" Nicole said. There was a lump forming in her throat, she was a horrible person.

After much deliberation, Y/N ended up texting Oscar, "Can we meet at the park near your house? I would totally understand if you didn't come but I'll be waiting for you at around 4" and sent. Oscar saw the text and he wondered if he wanted to see her or not after the events of the night before. He laid in his childhood bed staring at the ceiling for a couple of hours before getting dressed around 4. Even if she hurt him, he still liked her; he couldn't stop suddenly.

He got there quarter past 4 and he saw Y/N playing with some of the kids present there. She must've noticed Oscar staring and turned to him and waved at him. The kid she was playing with moved back to the swings while Oscar walked over to her. "hey" Oscar waved awkwardly standing in front of her. "hi" she waved back, patting the place next to her. Oscar sat down, she was playing with her fingers and tapping her foot rapidly, a nervous habit she had developed as kids and has yet to get rid of. "I'm sorry about the other day" she said not looking at him. Oscar just shrugged when she looked up. "It was wrong of me to lie and worry everyone like that" she remarked. "You worried me the most" Oscar mentioned. "Sorry" she whispered with her head hanging. "Did you think about what I said?" Oscar asked. "Oscar, I don't hate you and what I did yesterday was stupid. You are important to me, not sure in what way. I've had you around for as long as I can remember so you're just you, I guess. I did think about us, you and" she gulped; "I never saw you as anyone but my brother's friend" she said. Oscar felt his heart shatter for god knows which time. It was like he was being tortured. "But" she began while finally looking back at him, noticing tears in his eyes; "I've know you for 18 years and I'd never seen you cry before until yesterday. The two times I see you cry and it's because of me. Makes me feel like shit, honestly. I never saw you as anyone but Oscar, Ansel's friend until the Australian GP. You looked taller, older and I'd be lying if I didn't have thought after some of the moments we shared. It felt like there was something between us." she said, her foot almost thumping the ground. "You'll break the cement" Oscar laughed looking at her foot. "No one makes me nervous like you do Oscar." she stated. "Y/N you make me nervous, for years now." Oscar interjected. "Would it be selfish of me for wanting to be with you?" Y/N asked. Oscar's lips were turning up into a smile, his cheeks were twitching, "No" Oscar breathed. "I would love it if you did" he said. "Obviously you would" she laughed; a noise Oscar could get used to. "What if things don't work out between us? I'll lose you and your family" she pointed out. "That won't happen, and by some shitty luck that does. You won't lose me or us. Ever" he confirmed. "Never?" she asked. "never" he confirmed. "Are you free tomorrow?" Y/N asked this time, more confidently. "Yes" Oscar almost screamed. "I'll pick you up at 8, let's give this a chance" she said.

Oscar wasn't normal about this, at all. He spent the whole day scouring his wardrobe, texting and calling Lando to ask his opinion on outfits. Lando was half asleep when Oscar called but was fully awake when Oscar said, "she asked me out on a date, granted I confessed to her first" Lando had a smile on his face; he helped Oscar pick out an outfit since Y/N asked him to dress fancy. Oscar picked a white shirt, blazer and black slacks. Oscar casually strolled down towards the main entrance, a skip in his step. "Where you going?" his youngest sister asked. "Just out" Oscar said trying to leave before his mum saw him. "Mum, Oscar's going on a date" his sister yelled. His mother appeared from the kitchen, "Sweetheart, Oscar's 22. It's about time he went on a date. Have fun. Don't come home too late and stay safe" his mum told him waving good bye. The last sentence made Oscar's skin crawl. He was greeted by Y/N in his drive-way and hopped right in.

"You look beautiful" Oscar said, staring at Y/N. If this was a cartoon his eyes would've turned into hearts. Y/N was wearing white dress with a blazer on top to fight the cold. The blazer matched Oscar's coincidentally who was also wearing a black blazer. "You don't look half bad" she glancing at him before starting the engine. "I wouldn't have minded picking you up" Oscar pointed out. "Well, the place we're going to is a new restaurant that opened up soon after I moved back and I'd always wanted to try it out with my boyfriend" she stated casually. Oscar's eyes were the size of saucers, "Boyfriend" he stammered. Y/N smiled, "We might get there, who knows." she said. She had always been bad in choosing the type of men she decided to date. Maybe, Oscar confessing to her is what she needed to maybe instead of pursuing some one, let the other person do the pursuing. She wasn't sure how anyone would react to her dating Oscar, but that's a hurdle she'll cross when need be.

When they reached the restaurant, Oscar got out and opened the door for her, held the door at the entrance and even pulled her chair. Y/N was being wooed by the simplest things; truly she'd been dating some shitty men. The food was pretty good and the two of them enjoyed their meal while Y/N did most of the talking. She was talkative person, a complaint she carried forward through out her life; a complaint most of her boyfriends had and a complaint that ended most at a single date. Oscar had known her long enough to know, she talked a lot to fill in the awkwardness she felt. Oscar intently listened to her, a luxury in his eyes since he would be gone most of the year.

After dinner they hit up their favourite ice cream parlour which was almost about to close. Being the last customers there, they quickly grabbed their ice creams and left. Y/N had a bit of a habit of stealing other people's ice creams, having stolen Oscar's quite a lot in their earlier years. She thought he was dumb enough to not notice her taking bites well into their teen years but Oscar knew. He always knew. He just loved it when they got to share an ice cream. She did the same this time, but got caught. "sorry" she apologised, slowly trying to place the ice cream back. "Have it" Oscar said. "What?" she asked. "You've been stealing my ice cream for years. What's stopping you now?" he asked. "You knew" she was shocked. "Kind of hard to miss when you're ice cream's disappearing faster then you're eating it" Oscar commented. "OH" was all she said, now quietly eating her ice cream. "You can have mine as much as you'd like" she said offering her ice cream. Oscar took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. "I could get used to these privileges" Oscar hummed. She just smiled as they walked around.

Y/N dropped Oscar off. "Can I get a kiss?" Oscar asked with a pout. "Piastri, you're pushing your luck, don't you think?" she asked. "Maybe, but I can't let the opportunity go" he chuckled. "take me out on another date and maybe I'll think about it" she said. "Done, when are you free?" he asked. "Aren't you a little too eager?" she laughed. "I'm a man of action" he stated. "I start school in 3 days" she said. "I'll see you the day after. Good night" he said getting out of the car. "Good night Oscar" she said. "Dream about me" he called back shooting flying kisses at her. Y/N had never seen Oscar like this and maybe she could get used to this.

He kept his world and took them to have pasta. The ride there was quite eventful since Oscar almost rammed his car on the side walk as soon as he saw Y/N. "Are you okay?" she asked while getting into the car. "Yeah I'm fine. Don't worry about it" Oscar said. "How can I not?" she questioned giving Oscar a quick once over. He bought her flowers; a combination of every flower at the florist since he couldn't decide. Y/N was wearing the necklace he got her which made him comment about it every chance he got. The dinner was memorable to say the least since Oscar thought the waiter was flirting with Y/N and kept calling her girlfriend whenever he got the chance. "I don't think he believes you" she laughed. "What why not?" Oscar asked. "No one calls their girlfriend, girlfriend" she mentioned. Oscar's lips formed an O and resorted to calling her darling for the whole night.

"Word of advice before you call someone your girlfriend, ask her once" she said. "Sorry." Oscar apologised. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked immediately. "yes" she smiled. "For the record I don't agree to being someone's girlfriend on our second date" she stated. "I'm an exception. We've known each other forever, in my defence" he mentioned. "Yup" she said popping the p. She stopped walked and turned to face him, latching her arms around his shoulder, "You made feel special for the 2 dates we went on. Some of my best dates honestly." She said. Oscar's arms cautiously hovered over her waist. "You can place them on my waist" she said looking at his hands; feeling the warmth as they rest on her waist. "Does your boyfriend get to kiss you?" he whispered inches away from her lips. "maybe" she breathed out. Oscar looked into her eyes for any sort of hesitation before attaching his lips onto hers. Everything fell into place for the both of them; all those shitty relationships that ended in heart break meant nothing to Y/N. And the wait for Oscar was over, the lips he fantasised about for years were on his and he couldn't be happier.

Oscar dropped her back home, "Maybe I should walk you back to the flat" Oscar sited. "Why?" she asked. "We could continue our date, maybe Netflix and chill" he mumbled. "Slow down there tiger" she laughed. "Good night, Osc" she whispered leaving a quick peck on his cheek and opened the door. "My lips are here" he shouted out, making her giggle. She could get used to this, she thought.

The first day back to school was always hectic, Oscar offered to drive her there much to her resistance and even got her snacks for the day; she felt like she was going back as a student and not a teacher. He was back at the end of the day to pick her up. They drove back while Y/N told Oscar all about her day. It had been a while since she had someone to unload from the day's events. Oscar loved hearing her talk and he loved being called Osc occasionally. "I'm leaving the day after" Oscar said in the moment of silence when Y/N was done talking. "You are?" she said, there was a hint of disappointment. But she had known, Oscar wasn't here for long and he wouldn't be here for long ever. "Well, I hope you do well in the rest of the races" she mustered her most cheerful voice. "I don't think I'll be able to see you off" she lamented. "It's okay, you can come to some of the races when you're free" he reasoned. "Yeah, let's see about that" she thought aloud.

Y/N didn't think this would go any further. She expected Oscar to forget about her and then they'd eventually drift apart. Maybe one of the reasons she agreed to give it a try, to see where it went. But she caught herself catching feeling and wanting to talk to Oscar. She did not expect him to call her everyday, that was not very Oscar like. But he did, he would call her at very reasonable times except it would be super late where ever he was. He would ask about her day and then would fall asleep on call. Y/N found herself staring at Oscar as he slept. She would whisper a quick good night and sweet dreams before ending the call.

Everyone as in all of Oscar's family was going to the Singapore GP, Oscar had told her and also asked her to come along since he missed her. She missed him too. So, she was set to fly with the Piastri's to Singapore. Oscar was ecstatic when he saw Y/N but he couldn't jump on her when his family was around. But at the end of the day, he slipped into her room, wrapping his arms around her as he closed the door behind him. "I missed you" he whispered while hugging her tightly. "Babe, I can't breath" she whispered. "Then don't. I'm not letting go" he stated. She rubbed his back for a few seconds before Oscar loosed his grip and Y/N rested her chin on his chest while looking at him. "Didn't know I could miss someone so much" she commented. "Me neither. Lando hates me, though" he said. "What? Why? It didn't look like it" she asked worried. "No I mean, since I miss you so much, he knows about how much I miss you" Oscar clarified. "Lando knows about us?" she asked. "he's the only one" he said. "Oh, okay" she sighed. "Don't you want the others to know?" Oscar asked. "In due time, I just want to enjoy my time with you, for now" Y/N said. Which was true, she didn't want to involve their families just yet, she never told her parents about her past relationships until she felt the guy was worth it, she might've been wrong but it is what it is. The entire weekend, the pair would sneak glances at each other. Lando was having a lot of fun teasing Oscar and now Y/N.

After the race, when everyone suggested going out for dinner, Oscar said, "I'm tired. I'll probably get some sleep" and Y/N also said, "I just don't feel so good" They wished them well and left for the night. The two of them spent time together, for the first time in a while. Oscar ordered room service, they watched some rom-com, they don't remember since Oscar kept stealing kisses from her. Soon enough, those kisses turned into full blown make-out session which ended with the both of them forgetting the movie playing and Oscar on top of Y/N. Their fingers intertwined, Oscar's head was buried in Y/N's neck as they chases their high. After some time, they laid in each others embrace, while Y/N felt Oscar kiss her forehead, "I love you" he said. This was the first time they had said it. When she had asked him out, she had wanted to see where those weird feelings took her. She was very happy that this is where they got her, she was happy for the first time in a really long time. She felt loved and maybe dating your brother's best friend wasn't such a bad idea after all, she thought while saying, "I love you too"

The next morning, they were almost caught when Oscar's sister knocked on Oscar's door to join them for breakfast. Some how Oscar was able to ward her off and the two quickly got dressed and left their rooms. The breakfast was uneventful except Oscar being a lot more touchy feely, Y/N wasn't complaining it's just that it made focusing on what Chris or Nicole had to say extremely difficult.

Y/N had a Japan trip planned, or so she said and it fell exactly during the GP weekend. That's how Y/N and Oscar ended up exploring Japan a few days before the race and just enjoying the beautiful scenery and absorbing the culture after the race. They tried all those couple costumes and even went to amusement parks. The more time they spent together, the more they got greedy to have each other around. Y/N almost cried when she had to fly back. Oscar promised to be back as soon as the season was over.

And he did come back as soon as the last race was over and everyone was able to head home to rest and recuperate. Oscar reached home; he did not expect to find Y/N at his place, so without a second thought he dropped his bag and ran to her. He kissed her with so much need, his hands roamed her body and were under shirt while Y/N did try to get his attention but she lost her train of thought after she felt his body pressed against hers. "Please do not undress the poor girl in my living room" Nicole called out. Oscar almost jumped away from her. "I know you probably miss each other but keep it to the bedroom. I do not want to see what you two get up to" Nicole stated walking in followed by his whole family and Y/N's family. "That's what I was trying to tell you, that everyone's on their way home" Y/N whispered. Oscar took her hand in his, "I'm dating Y/N" he stated confidently. "We know" they called back. "Did you tell them?" Oscar asked, looking at her. Y/N shook her head confused.

Ansel told Oscar after dinner, "You know your parents lost 100$ because of you" Oscar was even more confused then before. "They had a bet going, my parents said that you two would end up dating, your parents said that you would pine your whole life away" Ansel elaborated. "My own parents have no trust in me" he lamented. "In their defence, you've had the biggest crush on her since like when we were in 5th or 6th grade" Ansel said. "You knew" Oscar asked. "I know you too well. It was getting painful watching you" Ansel laughed. "My parents couldn't be happier at the thought of having you as their son-in-law" Ansel said. "They think we'll get married." Oscar asked shocked. "At this point, they'll get you both married. Mum says she hasn't seen Y/N this happy in any relationship" Ansel explained. "Also the two of you are not stealthy at all. Nicole saw you leave with my sister multiple time, same goes for my mum. Also your sister caught you too getting too comfortable under the table in Singapore too, the poor girl. I almost puked when I heard that" Ansel gagged.

Oscar walked into the kitchen to find Y/N alone. "They knew, from the start" he said. "It seems" she smiled at him. "We're bad actors" she laughed. "Now I can touch you whenever I want" Oscar stated. "Please do not try to get me naked any where but our rooms, I don't think I can take the are we gonna be grandmas soon questions anymore" she said shaking her head. She pecked his lips, "I love you" she said. "I love you more" Oscar declared. "Honestly, didn't know I could love someone like I love you" she commented, pressing a kiss on his neck, "I might be staying over" she said in a sing songy tone walking away. "Really?" he asked. She nodded linking her hands with his.

[wilcze-kudly]

Katara and the fear of loss (aka why she waited)

I think one aspect of Katara's storyline I don't see explored nearly enough the fact that she is terrified of losing others, especially those whom she cares for. This makes sense, especially looking to her background, how the death of her mother affected her and the fact that war has been a very large part of her life since she was a small child. Not to mention, she is actively a huge part of said war, along with her brother and friends, at the tender age of 14.

Now, some of you may ask "quill what the hell does Aang have to do with Katara's mother?"

Yes, on the surface, there isn't that much connecting Katara's dead, grown ass mother to Katara's alive 12 year old goofball bf but the parallels between Kya and Aang are planted even at the beginning of the show, in the first few episodes.

When Zuko and the Fire Nation attack the Southern Watertribe, they are looking for Aang, the last airbender, not dissimilar to the Southern Raiders looking for the last Southern waterbender. Furthermore, both Kya and Aang willingly give themselves up to the Fire Nation in order to protect the village, particularly Katara.

Throughout the show, we see Katara's interest and endearment towards Aang grow, and we see them create a genuine friendship. But I'd argue that Aang being the Avatar is, to some degree, a problem to their relationship. Aang's duty as the Avatar, and the risks and decisions he is faced with due to it, often create a rift between him and Katara.

Be it due to Aang's responsibilities leading him to make decisions she doesn't agree with, like in the Avatar State, where Aang feels the pressure to force the Avatar State due to the suffering of the soldiers he feels responsible for.

Or, more poignantly, in the Awakening, where Aang is once again compared to one of the parents Katara lost due to the war, though Hakoda's 'loss' was not due to death, but a need to fight. I think this also shows how much Katara values Aang not just as the Avatar, but as a person.

Katara: Aang. He just took his glider and disappeared. He has this ridiculous notion that he has to save the world alone, that it's all his responsibility. Hakoda : Maybe that's his way of being brave. Katara: It's not brave; it's selfish and stupid! We could be helping him, and I know the world needs him, but doesn't he know how much we need him, too? How can he just leave us behind? Hakoda : You're talking about me too, aren't you?

This is twice Aang has been directly paralleled to one of Katara's parents, whose repsective losses have clearly affected her greatly. This is also extremely poignant, since we've been explicitly told that Aang's love for his own lost family, the Air Nomads, was reborn into Katara. For Aang and Katara, the ways they deal with their losses influences how they pursue each other romantically.

Of course, there's also the ✨️ immediate threat of death and physical injury✨️. Aang and the rest of the Gaang, but particularly Aang is constantly being chased and tracked and endangered by the Fire Nation and he is meant to face the Firelord and defeat him. There are a lot of possibilities for something to go horrifically wrong here.

From Aang being half dead when Katara found him, then almost immediately getting kidnapped by the prince of the goddamn Fire Nation, to almost every villain of the week shenanigan, Katara already has good reason to worry for Aang.

But then the reach Ba Sing Se and things get even worse. Jet, Katara's only other canonically confirmed love interest dies, and Katara is helpless to do anything about it. This is already enough to make someone reconsider future romantic endeavours, but surely it can't get any worse, right?

Oh yeah, Aang FUCKING DIES

He gets blasted in the back with lighting, right as he enters the avatar state, right before Katara's eyes. The saviour of the world, but more importantly, her dear friend, brutally cut down before her very eyes. And Katara, a child, is the only person with even a sliver of hope of bringing him back.

So is it really any surprise that Katara, having experienced loss before multiple times over, and almosf having lost Aang himself, would be hesitant to enter a romantic relationship with someone being actively hunted by the greatest military in the world, someone obligated to take on the leader of said military?

Katara is afraid. She's afraid of opening her heart up to loving Aang and then losing him after that. This is the main reason why she hesitates in initiating her and Aang's relationship. Whenever Aang tries to brooch the subject, she brings up the war and the Firelord, but due to being a child, she struggles in communicating her exact feelings, which leaves Aang confused and of kilter. Katara often gives Aang romantic attention, and clearly feels rather possessive of him, however, she is not ready to enter a romantic relationship due to the threat of the war looming above their heads. But due to being 14, she doesn't know how to explain these feelings, which is what leads to the minor conflict between her and Aang. Because, you know, they're both children in a situation that children aren't built to deal with.

Katara : Aang, I don't know. Aang: Why don't you know? Katara : Because, we're in the middle of a war, and, we have other things to worry about. This isn't the right time.

It's important to note that Aang isn't exactly a bad person for wanting this relationship to be made tangible. He does push boundaries, and kissing Katara without her consent in the Ember Island episode is obviously a horrendous misstep (which he acknowledged), but I think you can at least understand his motives. He may soon die, after all, and he wants to love Katara and wants to express that love before he possibly loses his entire goddamn life. I think this can also be traced back to how Aang deals with the genocide of the Air Nomads and vs how Katara deals with the death of her mother.

Aang certainly blames himself for the death of the Air Nomads, although this guilt is unfounded. Perhaps part of him believes that if he'd just stayed with them, spent a little more time with Gyatso, he could've helped them. It wouldn't be a leap to imagine that Aang wanting to spend more time with those he loves, including Katara is a coping mechanism surrpunding that loss.

Now juxtapose this to Katara, who's entire encounter with Yon Rha is permeated by helplessness and fear, an 8 year old Katara being unable to do anything but run away and try to get help, sadly not in time for Kya to survive. So Katara trying to assert some control over her relationships, maintaining a certain distance to Aang while the war that robbed her of her mother is still in full swing isn't an improbable concept. She's trying to not feel that helplessness again.

(Katara probably blames herself for her mother's death too, but it has less to do with Katara's actions and more to fo with what Katara was; a waterbender, something she hasno bearing on)

This is why she initiates the kiss with Aang at the end of the show. Not because she feels the need to give in to his advances due to him being the hero of the world. Not because she's caving to his insistence or because she's pressured. But because the possibility of Aang getting fucking murked by glorified pyromancers are significantly lower than they were during the war.

This is not a 'taking one for the team bcs I feel like I have to due to Aang saving the world' type of smooch. This is a 'finally I feel safe to express my feelings' type of smooch.

To be completely honest, I don't like how Kataang was handled post day of black sun, I think it was an unnecessary addition of a redundant "will they, won't they?" aspect to the relationship. Teasing Zutara in the last few episodes was also just unnecessary, because it was obviously never a viable endgame relationship and it only served to give kid zutara shippers false hope. This is especially fucked up looking at how the same zutara fans were later mocked by the creators, which, no matter what you think if the ship, is a horrible thing to do to a bunch of teenage girls and I think has contributed to those teenage girls growing into bitter, aggressive adult zutara shippers.

But, as much as I dislike this storyline, it does make sense for Katara's character and is an interesting and touching 'silent arc' for her to have. We often see characters fall in love in the midst of a conflict, but we aren't always shown how that conflict would affect the way they look at their relationship, so I appreciate this storyline for what it was.