#I debated for a long time whether to write this one or not since it's changing in my mind

[i-love-ptv]

I Just Ride ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

(Prologue?)

Pairing: Knight!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Carrera!Reader

Wc: 719

An: Heyyyy guyssss…..So this was supposed to come out for HALLOWEEN but i got lazy n wrote other things.

I debated on posting this, i was thinking of making a series, but that depends on whether or not y’all want it! so lmk loves!

Feedback is always welcome and encouraged! <3

“This would be monumental for the family, Rafe!” Rafe’s father, Ward, exclaimed.

Rafe remains unsure of how long this conversation has been going on, he fears his horse will have passed on by the time his father decides to make his voice scarce.

Ward Cameron was one of the mightiest knights in all of Kildare Kingdom, if not the.

Everyone knew that he only cared about the family legacy; for the wealth that came from notoriety.

His eldest daughter, Sarah, was arranged to be wed to Prince Topper Thorton. —But it was painfully aware that her eyes lingered elsewhere, they always remained on the Thorton family’s jester, John Routledge.

Ward is even in the process of accommodating his youngest, Louisa, despite her constant protesting. All the young girl wanted was to become a knight, just like her big brother Rafe. But of course this behavior was not allowed in Ward’s book. No, Ward’s daughters need to be nothing but royalty, and the only way was through marriage.

Ward and Rafe’s step-mother Rose had an almost dictatorship-like relationship. Ward’s word goes, no matter what. Nobody even in the family dared to disobey his order.

Hence why, although he isn’t interested in the slightest, Rafe knew he wasn’t going to get out of it.

“Think about this, Rafe! You are already a knight, my son! Now you would just work for one family!” Ward shouted, growing more agitated by the second.

“Unfortunately for you, father, I am not interested,” Rafe maintained with a blank tone.

Ward huffs, raking his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “My word is final, that is it.”

“But-“ Rafe attempts to object.

“That is an order, Rafe! You are to serve the Carrera family, and provide them with the utmost respect,” Ward almost snarls.

He continues, “I wish not to hear another word about the matter, Rafe. Start packing, you will be residing there as well, they’ve offered you one of their spare rooms.”

Rafe stomps to his room, similar to how a young child would.

It’s not like he has a problem with the Carrera family, It’s quite the opposite actually. They treat him with such niceties that would make anyone fawn; since he was a Cameron and all.

The youngest, Kiara, albeit continuously holding a grudge towards Rafe, wasn't his main concern.

You, were his main concern.

You somehow always managed to have that twinkle in your eye, even when falling bored.

You always smiled at him brightly, and he knew that it wasn’t fake like the others’.

You held beauty unlike the rest; Rafe swears there could never be a time where you don’t look divinely ravishing.

He’s thought about writing you a letter, confessing his admiration for you and his want to have your hand in marriage.

Unfortunately, the Cameron boy knew that seeking a relationship with you was futile. After all, was just a mere knight, and you deserved to be married to a man of royalty; since wealth was no issue for Rafe.

Rafe doesn’t know if he’d even be able to handle being in the same vicinity as you, let alone guard you and take up your sacred space.

The thought alone makes his stomach fill with the flutters left behind by butterflies, but he also feels giddy, believe it or not.

He’d be able to see you freshly from your slumber.

….That's rather strange, isn’t it?

It’s not like he was an odd stalker of some sort, he just wanted to be bare witness to the beauty you behold, especially when you rouse from your nightly escapades.

The mere thought of being in your presence makes his heart pound against his chest. The tight feeling makes him reach his arm out and grip his nightstand for stability, as he drops onto his bed.

It’s late now, and despite his urge to just succumb to slumber. Rafe packs his bag, which will reside on his horse tomorrow morning.

Once he’s done, he flops onto his bed, resting under the covers on his back, looking at the ceiling in thought.

‘How would this transpire? Only a god would know,’ he thinks to himself. He thinks about praying, although he doesn’t really have the words in his throat.

Rafe finally rests his head on his pillow, and hopes for the best.

[haru-chi]

Can we talk about Reiko for a bit ...

(I wanted to write this one because I wanna see how far this theory of mine going to develop in the future)

I don't know how to start with this one or from where exactly, but I'll try to make it organized as much as possible despite the chaos in my mind ><

I saw alot of people's theories about Reiko's husband or that some believe that he's Yorishima or other different theories about her, but I had very different theory about her or maybe her story in general. ...

- Her connection to the exorcist world

I guess it's already a given that her husband might've been an exorcist which in result would also explain how she knew about some spells .. but the connection doesn't seem to end there I fear.

the first time Natsume went to an exorcist gathering someone recognized him as Reiko, was that a human or a Youkai ?? but I believe it might be a human more than a youkai. since...

when Nanase first heard his name, she asked about Reiko so that prove exorcists do know of her somehow, she said she knew of her from the youkai, but is that really true ??

I mean one of the reasons Seiji was interested in Natsume was because of Reiko, in the manga (we don't talk about the anime ver here cuz it's too different ugh) when Seiji start threating Natsume, it was because he wanted info about Reiko that badly but what kind of info ??

Seiji also said the same as Nanase that he heard about her from the youkai and that it's natural to want to know more about someone this powerful since they're rare ...

that can be normal if Reiko is alive, but she isn't .. would you go as far as threating a little boy to get some info about someone who's already died ?? unless what you want is something that she left behind so you're desperate to get this info to the point you're threating like that perhaps ??

now you'll think, " oh so they heard about the book of friends from the youkai?!!!"

but nope, I don't believe it's from the youkai such rumors spread, why do I think so, you ask ??

in the same chapter, Madara stated even if Seiji heard about the book of friends, then that's likely from human than youkai since the youkai by instinct won't mention such a thing which hold their own life in it especially not to exorcists.

maybe it's as a myth or uncertain rumors, when and how did it start I don't know but I think the exorcist world DID hear one thing or two about Reiko and the book of friends.

in the same chapter of when Natsume first went to the exorcist gathering, Natsume realized that the book of friends must be kept a secret from those people, I tend to think of such things as having indirect meaning since Midorikawa-sensei craft her stories carefully so I took this as indirect sign that they already knew of it one way or another which led to what I'm gonna bring up next.

Now that I established that the exorcist world do know of Reiko one way or another be it as a myth or more we're yet to actually see or confirm

PS : it's normal for Natori to never have heard about Reiko or the book unlike Seiji or the others since Natori wasn't always there or grow up in this world and he's hated on top of all.

-Next is about Reiko's death

now to the next question, how did Reiko died ?? do we actually know the details ?? was it an accident ? sickness ? or killed ?? all we know is that she died at a young age leaving her daughter behind.

when Nanase showered Natsume with all those questions about Reiko and her way of death, Natsume stated that he only heard she was found died under a tree one day, nothing else is known. I smell a crime here :)

now if Reiko was indeed killed by someone, was it a human or a youkai ??

personally, as far as of now, and as far as what I stated before, I'd go to say it's a human who killed her and an exorcist at that too.

I don't think I need to state why she was killed; the aim was the book of friends :)

another reason why I believe it was an exorcist is ...

Madara stated the first time Natsume went against exorcist that he can't protect him against such humans 100%. I mean Madara for sure knows what actually happened to Reiko be it her life or her death, but he chose to stay silent about it, so if he was there but failed to protect her then he said this line out from experience.

also, an exorcist is the one who sealed him in his cat form, so what if this happened when he tried to protect Reiko from her attacker ?? but he got sealed while Reiko got killed.

and what if that time when Madara went berserk after seeing Natsume get hurt by an exorcist's arrow was very triggering to him because it happened before ??

thus, I kinda feel so far all of this point out to Reiko being killed by an exorcist more than by youkai ...

something else I think of is, where was her husband ?? her husband mostly an exorcist, right ? now what if he's the reason all this tragedy occurred, that he's the reason Reiko got into the exorcist world, that be it by him or someone around him the existence of the book of friends became known which endangered them all.

what if he tried to protect his family so that's why he was never there when Reiko had his daughter, or maybe simply he died in the line or work since it isn't a normal line of work ?

now where does that leave Yorishima in all of this ?? he clearly knows Reiko and the book of friends, if such myth or rumors going on in the exorcist circles then you can't convince me that the "walking dictionary" never heard of such a thing, he's also older than he looks so he might've witness it all. actually, what if that's the very reason he cut ties with the exorcist world ??

at first, I was like he might be the one who sealed Madara or Reiko's killer and out of guilt decided to live in isolation but Madara has no reaction when they met the first time so that was the end of that idea before it starts xDD

does he know Natsume's grandfather ? was he related to what happened to Reiko ?? many ideas go through my mind, but I don't know so far too little info for me. but that's one of the reasons why I'm against him being Natsume's grandfather and why I think the role he plays is different :)

(actually what if he's Natsume's uncle than grandfather?)

hmmm, that sum up what I have about Reiko overall, I feel I forgot to mention something but more or less that's all I hope, there's a missing link which I'm searching for (mainly Natsume's grandfather, Reiko's husband but yeaaah) but for now that's what's been living in my mind. I do have other few adjustments to the theory but will keep it to myself until I see which way it rolls with future info's.

just imagine what if Reiko's killer was a Matoba or even a Natori the paper master's family, or will it be a family we never heard of before. plus, whom to say his grandfather wasn't from a family we already know too if he's an exorcist :)

when will Midorikawa-sensei give us new info about his grandfather, been hungry for more since I know the next info gonna be a big one for sure T^T

anyway, I'll end this post with this panel and leave it at that.

[fum1ku]

LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

[mydarlingclaudia]

bunnies love bouncing

note : divider is from @/aquazero. my mutuals have been making me think about ogre4 Leon more than I already do so this is what I spat out I know this kinda sucks. sorry I always have to write like eight paragraphs of lore before the smut starts it's who I am. Leon is ooc sorry I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM dw about it kitten. I don't know how I feel about this one. mdni

wc : 1.7k

tags : @lottiies

desc : you're supposed to make him feel good, why not make him feel even better? smut!! - unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, light choking. little bit of fluff, fem!hybrid!reader, post re4og!Leon, not proofread.

The whole reason Leon got you was because you were supposed to be therapeutic, somehow. He didn't really understand how having a roommate he had to take care of was supposed to help him feel better, he didn't even feel like he even needed therapy, but the whole situation had been referred to him by some other agents in the DSO before Spain, but when you were the hybrid that had been picked out for him and you looked at him with your pretty little eyes with your cute rabbit ears twitching atop your head, Leon couldn't really imagine turning you away.

Leon can't help but be a little bit mean to you, you're so easy to tease and he loves the way your nose twitches and your foot thumps against the floor when you get upset. You always forgive him in a matter of minutes, anyway, all he has to do is open his palm and show you a piece of candy he had hidden away and you're already nestled into his side.

His least favorite part of having you might be having to buy you clothes. You take so long to try on everything, and you insist on showing him each new outfit you get to make sure it looks nice or that he likes it. And you always want these cute panties and bras, which of course absolutely had to be modeled for him. But whenever it came to underwear, you’d pull Leon into the fitting room, which made everything way too close for comfort, and you’d spin around and ask him if the underwear looked good on you and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t starting to feel hot. Not to mention how cute your little cottontail looked perched above your panties.

And you’re cute, always waiting by the door for Leon when he comes back from work, snuggling up to him so quickly that he has to pry you off of him to even be able to get his shoes off. He’ll tell you to scram for a few minutes while he unpacks his things and finishes whatever paperwork he had to take home with him, you always sigh and wander into the living room to watch tv, hoping Leon will be done soon so he’ll keep paying attention to you.

You got attached quickly, that made Leon feel kinda good, he supposed. Leon had to get your own flip phone for when he went away on missions, in case of an emergency or to order yourself pizza, but you ended up calling his agency more often than not. And you were allowed to since you were registered as a therapy hybrid under the agency, you weren’t allowed to speak to Leon directly when he was on the job, but Hunnigan would always let him know when you called and asked how he was doing, she always humored you, it was cute to her.

Having you around does make him feel a bit better, getting extra attention is nice and you’re always so sweet to him, Leon figures that taking care of you isn’t too bad sometimes.

He gets to see you naked every so often.

It’s cute, you always strip down to nothing when it gets too hot at night, it doesn’t stop you from sweating through the night, unfortunately. You’d always wander into Leon’s room come morning and ask him for a bath, trying to climb into his bed even when you were still naked.

The first time you had done it, he had groaned and held his hands out in front of his eyes to keep himself from oogling you for too long, but you had flopped down onto his stomach and just laid there for a few minutes while he debated whether or not this was a good idea or not.

It became more normal now, not that he minded, he likes to reach down and give your tail a gentle yank just to hear you yelp. Maybe even “accidentally” grope you just because he can.

You sit too close to him sometimes, too. Sometimes you’re on his lap, either facing away from him or with your head buried in his neck, either way, he’s gripping onto your legs, trying not to focus on how you’re squirming in his lap.

He likes when you curl up into his bed at night, you grip onto him like a bear-trap and don’t let go until morning. Leon’s aware of everything all the time, especially on how your lips are pressed against his neck, he knows you’re not trying to kiss him, but he can delude himself a tiny bit.

You were so sweet tonight, babbling about how you had missed him and how warm he felt. Leon couldn’t help but kiss your cheek, you had giggled as you squeezed him tighter and pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return.

Things escalated kind of quickly. One second you and Leon are kissing each other's faces, the next his tongue is down your throat, then the very next, your back is to him as you ride him.

Leon’s grip on your hips is almost bruising, guiding your body while your hands grip just above his knees to keep yourself upright. He can’t tear his gaze away from your cottontail, smiling to himself as he watches it twitch.

“You’re so cute,” Leon murmurs, pulling you down to meet his upward thrust. You groaned, your nails digging into his skin, Leon’s hands left your hips and trailed up your stomach until he cupped your breasts, yanking you back against his chest. “So sweet for me, too.”

His lips attach to your shoulder, planting kisses on any open space he could find. While his hips were busy rutting against you, driving his dick into you, his hands busied themselves with kneading your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“You were such a-a blabber-mouth before, mm fuck, you’re finally quiet now, hm?” Leon teases, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts.

“M-missed you,” You pant, moving faster to match his movements, you smile to yourself when he lets out a groan as you clamp down around him.

“I know, God- mhm- always so good to me. Just wanna make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re doing a pretty good job. Sooo perfect, holy shit-“ He stops fucking up into you for a few seconds, letting you do the work as focused on the feeling of your hot cunt sucking him in. You had been so ready for him when he pulled off your panties, he couldn't help but drool a little at the sight of you all wet for him, couldn't hold back from giving your clit a few kisses and gentle nips, either.

Leon's right hand leaves your breast to move behind you, tugging at the tips of your droopy rabbit ears, tipping your head back a little bit as you hiss. He tuts, bringing the furry flap of cartilage to his mouth to press a kiss against it, finally deciding to start bucking his hips again.

Holy Hell, the wet sounds coming from the two of you were gonna be stuck in his head for the next two weeks, at least. Not to mention the noises falling from your mouth and the way you looked bouncing up and down on his cock, he'd have to have you facing him the next time you do this.

And you felt like you were on fire.

You weren't gonna tell Leon, but you've been wishing for this to happen since forever. And maybe it's dumb to crush on the guy who takes care of you, but you can't help it! Just like how you can't help humping his pillows when he's gone, or wearing his shirts when you have a whole closet full of clothes you asked him to buy you, but this was way better than any of that. You were willing to do this until you were all sore and Leon had to do all the work, you wouldn't even mind passing out.

And he felt better than any dream you could have, mostly because of how he's hardly giving you a break, but also because it's him.

You're pulled from your barely-there thoughts as Leon's bicep wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as your head tips back and his other hand shoots down to play with your clit. Was he trying to drive you crazy? Your hands grip his arm, fingernails digging into his flesh as you try to ground yourself, trying to take in as much air as you can in case he decides to squeeze harder.

"Feel good?" He mutters against the side of your head, smiling as you nod. His fingers poke and pinch at your clit, your own thrusts start slowing down as you begin to feel your orgasm start to coil up in your belly.

Your head droops down, resting against his bicep as his grip loosens, you almost whine when his fingers leave your clit to hold onto your stomach, keeping you against him even more.

"Gonna tell my boss to give you a f-fucking promotion when we're done," Leon pants, the noises coming from his mouth slowly becoming more needy, doing nothing to aid in stopping your arousal. "Cum, please. Gonna lose it. Shit-"

Leon offers up a few more hard thrusts before you feel the coil snap and you cum, biting down on his forearm as you breathe through your nose. Leon isn't far behind, his thrusts become lazy as he reaches his own high, his arm moves from your neck to wrap around your shoulder to hold onto you tightly, you shiver as you feel his cum coat your insides.

"Happy?" You mumble to him, tilting your head to rest against his as you teasingly tease his spent dick, listening to him groan while he weakly thrusts against you.

"Very," Leon presses a kiss to your head and loosens his grip on you, letting you rise off of him. "Let me see your face, next time." You turn to face him, draping your legs over his while you lay down on the bed and catch your breath. Leon should have gotten you sooner.

"You can see my face now,"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

[areyouwell]

Hi!!! I really love your work- photophobia is my favorite piece of fanfiction ever!!

I don't know if your requests are still open but if they are and you feel inspired I'd like to request a one-shot where Logan and reader are caught having sex by a member of the x-men (you can decide who!!) I'd love to see your take on it <3

Like Animals

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: im sorry this took so long ;-; work's been driving me crazy and i've been creatively constipated BUT i really liked this request and ngl i was laughing to myself when writing it hehehe. also not sure if this counts as a oneshot or a drabble since it's kinda short but i hope this is what you had in mind!

Taglist: @fries11 (i had a taglist for Phobophobia but this is a more general one if anyone wants to be on it lmk <3)

How many steps could one person do in a single day? It was a question you idly entertained whilst pacing across the floor of the kitchen, having been asked to politely remove yourself from movie night by a mildly irritated Kitty when you were unable to sit still. You’d spent most of your day like this. Anxiously, mindlessly marching from place to place, your body humming with anticipation since yesterday evening. 

It was the longest you and Logan had been apart since the start of your relationship a year and a half ago, and fuck you missed him. It had been roughly three weeks since he’d left, Charles trusting him with gathering intel on some new fucked up mutant slave trade just south of the school. He’d called you, of course he had, and you knew it was purely just to hear your voice, but his calls were few and far between. He was busy, incredibly busy. And whilst you tried to keep yourself busy too, it was hard not to think about him constantly. Not to wonder how he was doing, whether he was okay. If he missed you just as much as you missed him.

But you were pacing because he was supposed to be coming home today. Supposed to, if everything had gone well. Scott was almost as excited as you were, but only because he was happy to finally have his bike back. He was almost inconsolable when he went into the garage to see his prized possession had once again been stolen, and you tried everything you could to hide your amused grin. It was so typical of him, for his last act before he was gone for three weeks to be something that would piss off Scott. 

Fuck you loved him. 

You checked the clock on the wall for the thirtieth time that minute, the hands mocking you with the rhythmic clicking. Quarter past nine. He was supposed to be back an hour ago. Hence the anxious pacing. You resisted the urge to call him, hoping that maybe the traffic was just bad, or he got held up for some reason. He was okay. Of course he was okay. This was Logan you were thinking about. He was always okay. He had to be okay. 

Your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip cursing lowly as you didn’t focus on where you were going and smacked your hip into the corner of the table. If only he knew the things he id to you when he was away. 

With a brief pause, you debated whether or not to go back to movie night. Whilst you had no idea what was happening onscreen, being unable to focus, you think you could understand the fairly basic premise of Night at the Museum. Some guy spends a night at a museum. How complex could that actually be? But remembering Kitty’s flat stare of knowing, you thought better of it. She’d been helpful in distracting you for the last three weeks, but clearly, you’d worn down her patience. Not that you could blame the girl. She called you out for being too codependent on him, and whilst at the time you refuted the claim, you couldn’t help thinking she may have had a point. Maybe.

You weren’t codependent. You just loved him. A lot. Enough to constantly be by his side every minute of every day. And it wasn’t like he was any different. 

Another minute ticked by and you clenched your jaw. Had he gotten lost or something? Why was he making you wait longer than you needed to? Of course it wasn’t deliberate, even if he wanted to, you don’t think he had the strength to do that, deprive you both of the other’s presence, but he really picked a time to be an hour late. 

You crossed to the window, pulling back the curtain for the umpteenth time and waiting for longer than you should for the peek of headlights around the drive. But there was nothing. Just the moonlit grass and silhouette of trees. You huffed, throwing the curtain back into place. Footsteps echoed through the hallway towards the kitchen, and you dragged a hand down your face. 

“I’m fine, Scott. Just… getting kinda worried now. He should have been back an hour ago.” You couldn’t help pulling back the curtain again, as if anything would have changed in the last twenty seconds. 

“Scott? Seriously?”

Oh. That was not Scott. 

You whipped around, heart soaring as you knew that voice instantly. You could be deaf and still know the sound of his voice. Your lips split into a broad grin as you saw Logan standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, brow raised with a wry smile pulling at his lips. 

“Logan!” You beamed, racing across the room to all but tackle him. He dropped his leather bag to the floor, wrapping his arms around around your middle, spinning with the momentum of your jump. Your legs anchored around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back as you let yourself bask in his presence, inhaling the familiar scent of cigars and wood smoke. 

“Hi darlin’. Sorry ‘m late.” He breathed, tightening his hold on you more for comfort than anything else. The tightness in his chest finally eased with the feeling of having you back in his arms. Logan always thought of himself as a lone wolf. An outsider. Someone who didn’t need anybody else. That was until he met you and fell absolutely head over heels. Now he could barely stand to be on his own for longer than five minutes before he’d find himself sorely missing your presence. So the last three weeks had been as torturous for him as they had been for you. 

Removing your face from the crook of his neck, you schooled your expression into a scowl. “Where the fuck have you been? An hour, Logan. I haven’t seen you in three weeks and you make me wait another hour?!”

He rolled his eyes at your dramatics, smirking as your furrowed brows deepened. “Roads were closed. Fuckin’ tree blocked the way so I had to turn back n’ find another way round.” He explained, and you reluctantly accepted it. “Not that you missed me or anythin’.”

“Me? Miss you?” you quirked a brow, your scowl dissolving into a mischievous smirk. “In your dreams, Howlett.”

Before he had a chance to quip back, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging tight as your lips crashed into his, dragging a quiet groan from his throat as he tasted longing passion on your tongue. His hands slid from your back to your thighs and oh how you missed the way he would grip them, leaving little purple bruises where he dug his fingers into your soft flesh. 

Your brows pinched as he shifted to pin you against the wall, palms kneading your ass whilst he ground his rapidly hardening cock against your clothed heat. You whimpered lightly as his touches became desperate, your teeth tugging at his bottom lip, eliciting a sharp gasp from the depths of his chest. Shifting from his neck, your nails dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders, leaving little crescent dents across the sinewy skin before you the brown flannel from his arms. It was barely clinging on anyway, so why not assist the fall?

“Where’s everyone?” He ground, lips fanning against your lower jaw as he moved to pepper tingling kisses and aching bruises along the column of your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin above your pulse point. You angled your head to the side, allowing him easier access, the scuff of his beard scratching deliciously against the hollow of your throat.

“Movie night– Logan…!” you gasped his name as quietly as you could when his hands left the plush of your ass, using your grip around his waist and the wall to hold you aloft whilst he pawed and kneaded at your breasts through your t-shirt, braless nipples hardening almost instantly. He pinched the pebble through the fabric, tugging slightly and silencing your whine with a burning kiss, hungrily devouring your mouth before you alerted anyone in the living room to the new show playing in the kitchen. 

He growled a gravelly “Good” against your lips, removing your arms from his shoulders to raise above your head, pulling your shirt up and off in a hurried frenzy, almost snarling to himself as you bared yourself for him. You shivered slightly, though not from the cold, quite the opposite. The heat radiating off him kept you warm as you scrabbled to return the favour, your nails scratching at his naval before pulling up the white singlet and discarding it to the ground alongside your own shirt. Your hands fell to his belt, his mouth delivering little bites to your collarbone. Fuck, you needed him now. You needed him yesterday. Hell, you needed him the day he left, because fucking yourself with your fingers wearing his flannel was nothing in comparison to the ecstasy of fucking yourself on his cock. 

“Need you,” you breathed, popping open the button atop his jeans and pulling down the zipper over the incredibly obvious and likely extremely uncomfortable tent in his pants. Logan groaned slightly against your neck in relief, the tip of his cock pulsing and leaking with need. He hadn’t been this desperate for you since–

What the fuck was he saying? He was always desperate for you. In any way, shape or form. For whatever you were willing to give him. Though, luckily enough, you were usually willing to give him everything. 

“Fuck princess, ‘can smell you. Smell so fuckin’ good.” he growled directly into your ear, hot breath sending shivers down your spine. You really didn’t care that you were in the kitchen, nor did you care when he carefully tore through the crotch of your sweatpants with a single claw. Your arousal clouded his senses, the sweet scent of need making his hips buck into you. Especially when he dipped his hand through the tear to find you were naked beneath. “No underwear? You did miss me.” He grinned the same smile as a predator, and you clamped your lips together to stop your own disobedient smile. 

“‘Was in my pyjamas… at least, they were my pyjamas.” You hissed, brows pinching as a curious, delicate finger softly grazed through your slick folds, gathering your dewy arousal on the tip of his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth. A carnal groan rumbled from his chest as he tasted you, his eyes rolling before they closed. Your mouth fell open, chest rising and falling in rapid pants as one of your hands shoved the elastic of his briefs down below his hips, just far enough for his desperate cock to spring from his confines. 

“Impatient?” He smirked darkly as you attempted to grind against him, having to clench your jaw to stop yourself from whining. You shot him an equally wicked look, earning yourself a brow raise before his jaw slackened, your hand circling his length in a tight palm, jerking him from base to tip and using your thumb to slather the head of his cock in his own yearning. He bucked into your hand, a gasp flying from his lips before you slid him through the tear in your sweatpants. But before you could coerce him to drive home, he pulled you from the wall. 

With a small squeak of surprise, your nails clung to his back, tearing angry marks up his spine as he set you back down on the table, leaning over you until you were lying against the solid wood. 

“Say you missed me,” he growled with a smile, clearly deriving pleasure from the way you huffed in frustration. You only responded by raising your hips into his, grinding your now-soaked crotch against his throbbing cock. “C’mon baby, just say it, ‘n I’ll give you everything you want.” he bargained, though finding it incredibly difficult to deny you. He grunted a soft curse when you locked your legs tighter around his waist, forcing his sensitive tip to graze through your aching heat. Fuck he wanted you. But at the same time, he really wanted to hear you say it. “C’mooon, say you missed me. Can’t really deny it.”

“Fuck, yes I missed you. Of course I missed you. Now fuck me already!” You spat through gritted teeth, but he still didn’t claim you the way you wanted him to. 

“How much?”

“Logan?!”

“How much? How much did you miss me?” He grinned and you groaned in frustration. Trust him to find the worst times to wind you up. With a deep breath, you leaned up, holding both sides of his neck as you took the shell of his ear between your teeth. 

“I fucked myself wearing your clothes, whining your name, imagining my fingers were your fingers. Imagining that stupid silicon cock was your cock. That’s how much I missed you.” You whispered, earning yourself a needy groan from the man above you. 

His hips moved as if they had a mind of their own, his hand guiding himself through the ruins of your sweatpants to sink into your leaking cunt, and you both gasped airily at the sensation. Incrementally, Logan pushed inside you, savouring the pulse of your silken walls, the pitch of your trapped whines behind a wall of teeth and lips. Oh how he wanted to hear you, but somewhere in the back of his pleasure-addles mind, he was glad you were keeping quiet. At least one of you was still aware of the time and place. 

Slowly he bottomed out, pressing the coarse hairs of his pelvis against your clit. Taking your hand in his, he trapped it by the side of your head, knuckled turning white as he fought to resist the urge to cum there and then. You felt so fucking good. How did you always feel so fucking good?

“F-fuck, Logan… move.” You hissed, your hips undulating in desperate pumps as you attempted to get him to do something other than just fill you. It felt incredible, but you needed more. What you didn’t realise was that he was hypersensitive. He’d been without you for the last three weeks, with nothing but your voice on the other side of his phone and his own fist to satisfy his craving for you. And it did nothing but make it worse. Did nothing but make him harder for you. 

“Easy, princess. Not– fuck… not goin’ anywhere.” He swore as you deliberately clenched around him, slowly pulling back until only his tip was submerged in your heat, before pushing back in, having to sink his teeth into the meat of your shoulder to muffle his loud groan of ecstasy. You clawed at his closed fist, sharp nails digging into the three spaces where his claws would slide out—an unknown erogenous zone.

Until now.

His cock jumped inside you, shivers of pure electric honey quivering down his spine as he slammed his hips into yours, momentarily losing control of himself. “Shit… shit! Fuck that was– what did you–” 

You did it again, watching his features fall completely slack, mouth agape as he bucked into you uncontrollably, as if searching for a deeper place to reach. Your chest inflated with a sharp gasp as the leaking, throbbing tip of his cock brushed that little bundle of pleasure nestled inside your walls, the tight leash you were holding on your voice loosening slightly as he thrust into you sharply, having found just the right angle. 

“Yes… fuck, yeah, there, right– shit, right there!” Your eyes fluttered closed, your body set alight as he set a determined pace, the table shifting slightly with each delicious thrust, your ecstasy climbing higher and higher and you let yourself be completely consumed by pleasure. 

“Yeah?” he growled, gasping into the side of your neck as your other hand scratched up his back as if you were trying to get past his regeneration and leave lingering marks. He loved it when you got rough, it drove him fucking crazy when you tried to leave your marks on him. There were times he hated his mutation for that because nothing would push him higher than knowing he could look in the mirror and see your desperation sucked into his neck or torn into his back. 

“Fuck! Logan, I–”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

At the first sound of a foreign voice outside of your bubble of rapture, your mutation flared, blinking both you and Logan out of sight. Though, if you could teleport, that would have been a whole lot more beneficial. Because now poor Scott had to bear witness to your spontaneous kitchen table tryst. 

Had to bear witness to Logan’s bare ass. You almost wished you had his perspective…

“Maybe he didn’t see us…” you whispered as quietly as you could, and though you couldn’t see Logan smile, you knew he was grinning from ear to ear. 

“I wouldn’t hold out hope.”

“I can fucking hear you. On the table? Seriously? Everyone eats there. I eat there!” He lamented, and you craned your neck to see he’d covered his already covered eyes with his hands, his face a nice shade of bright pink. 

“Like you and Jean are any more discrete in the danger room, Summers.” Logan barked, and you snorted a laugh which quickly turned into a gasp when he shifted slightly. You couldn’t even hide the way your cunt pulsed the moment you heard him walk in, and you knew Logan would have given you a look of intrigue. 

“That’s not– You’re still going?!”

“You kinda walked in at a bad time.” You could hear just how hard Logan was trying to keep his shit together whilst still being under the influence of your arousal, like a siren to a sailor. 

“Exactly. It’s rude to walk in on a lady without knocking, I could have been naked!” You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning aloud as Logan shifted again, deliberately this time. Oh, how you wished you could see his face right now. 

“In the kitchen?!” 

You snorted a laugh, earning a low groan from Logan as your walls convulsed around his cock, your thighs tightening around his waist. You could almost hear his teeth grind together as he continued his battle to stop from pounding into you there and then. 

“You might wanna go, Scott. Logan’s getting impatient.”

“You can’t even see him, how’d you kn– OH FUCK’S SAKE!”  He huffed, turning on his heel and storming from the room, no doubt to tell Kitty and Ororo he’d just caught the two of you fucking like animals on the kitchen table. 

When you were certain he was gone, you released your grip on your mutation and the visage of Logan’s sweat-slicked face greeted you, a crooked grin pulling at his lips. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, nipping at your jaw. “Could feel you gushin’ around me, princess. You liked it when he walked in. You liked it when we got caught.” Feeling boneless, Logan pulled you up with him as he stood, sliding his still-hard cock from your twitching cunt. 

“Shut up…” You mumbled, attempting to latch your lips to his. But he pulled back from you, that same shit-eating grin still shining. With a huff, you hopped off the table, stooping to snatch your t-shirt from the ground. 

“My little exhibitionist. Who knew?” Logan wrapped his arms around your naked waist and you leaned back into his chest, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you felt his cock press against your ass. “‘M not against extending invitations. Just to watch. Nobody gets to touch you but me.” He growled, a possessive edge cutting into his tone, one that made you slightly weak at the knees, as if you weren’t already struggling to stand. A fresh wave of arousal curled in your lower gut, and you turned in his arms, eyes like heated coals.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Now, Logan!”

With a dark chuckle, he bent to pick you up, hands braced against the backs of your thighs much like he had when he first walked in. 

“Yes ma’am.” He murmured, before finally letting you capture his mouth with your own, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as he blindly carried you up to bed to finish what you both started. 

[back-on-my-bullsh-again]

The whole of Star Trek canon makes way more sense of you give it the Xena: Warrior Princess treatment. Within XWP, it is canon that the whole story is being given to us through bits and pieces of Gabrielle's scrolls. So any weirdness can be explained away as this bit was missing, so we filled it in. Or how was Xena at the Trojan War, but also around during Julius Caesar's reign? Gabrielle was trying her hand at fiction (without the cursed scroll this time) and wanted to write a "what if we were in Troy" story.

How does this compare to Star Trek? I hear some of you asking. Well, Star Trek episodes frequently begin with a log entry. The Captain or Chief Engineer or Science Officer or whoever is telling the story. We are watching the events play out as they recount them. And since every crew member is supposed to keep logs, if we piece those logs together, we presumably have a coherent story. But listen to any group of people recount a story and you'll hear the inconsistencies, the bias, the limited perspective. Now couple that with the fact that these stories are being turned into a show at some future date when bits and pieces of the story may be lost and you have a recipe for weirdness.

For me, thinking of it this way explains so many things. Why were there so many encounters with historical and mythological figures on Kirks Enterprise? Well, Janeway said it herself: there's debate about whether or not Kirk was exaggerating his logs. Why does it seem like there's weird one-sided sexual tension between two characters? Because character A is keeping their logs in a way that doesn't hide their unrequited love and longing for the very oblivious character B. Why is this or that character seemingly missing from an event that they'd have a vested interest in? Their log was lost or corrupted or they were so excited to be a part of the mission that they completely forgot to write it down.

I don't know if I'm making any sense. But it makes sense for me and is much more fun to think of Star Trek this way than it is to be overly critical of canon inconsistencies within a franchise that has been around for as long as it has and gone through as many permutations as it has.

[brairslair]

(i debated whether or not to ask this anonymously)

so yknow how eddie has a W.A.S.P pin on his vest? can you plz write an eddieXreader scene inspired by their song

Animal (F*** Like A Beast) ?

😅😊

i absolutely love this reqqq, tysm for letting me run with this! hope you like how it turned out @nerdyhooker

Like an Animal - E.M.

18+ ONLY (minors please dni)

a/n: finally figured out an idea i liked for this, and i think it turned out pretty good! although i may have gotten a bit carried away lmao. not sure if this is as rough as you might have had in mind, but i tried to pull as much from the lyrics as possible! i hope you like what i ended up with <3

wc: 5.8k

cw: eventual smut, fem!reader, bartender!eddie + english teacher!reader, kinda fuckboy eddie vibes?, enemies to lovers vibes, light bondage (handcuffsss), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), oral (fem receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey, baby), technically drinking and driving, smoking (cigs + i don’t smoke so idfk what i’m talking about), brat reader but she gets super subby, kinda mean but soft dom eddie?, light dacryphilia, these idiots have been head over heels for each other since high school and neither of them knew it bc they’re stupid and stubborn, extremely vague mention of aftercare, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything!

don’t forget to like, reblog, follow, and comment to support my work! it always makes my day, mwah

“well if it isn’t the little princess”

Just like that, nine months down the drain. You massage your temples as you recall the past few days. The countless arguments between you and your, now ex, boyfriend form a persistent migraine between your eyes.

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming. Your relationship had been rocky for months, but you were so busy with other obligations that you hadn’t had the time to confront any of it head on. Fortunately for you, he was more than willing to step up to the plate.

You wouldn’t let yourself admit it out loud, but you almost felt relieved with his absence in your small apartment. That was until you remembered the loss of his half of the rent.

Everything happened so fast, it was hard to process any of it. It all felt like it was swirling around and around too quickly for you to pick any one thing out. Your solution? Alchohol.

You grabbed your keys and hopped into your polished, clean, mint green beetle, setting off for the local dive bar. You could only recall one other time you had been to the small bar, having been dragged there by colleagues in the name of “bonding” after a particularly long day at work.

Drinking wasn’t something you did often, reserving a glass of wine for holidays and special events. Tonight, you decided you needed to make an exception.

As you parked and stepped out of your car, you felt nerves twist in your gut. The place was undoubtedly busy, which wasn’t shocking for a Friday night. People were smoking and talking out front, and you couldn’t help but notice how out of place you must’ve looked.

A knee length grey skirt fell loosely over your hips, paired with a rose colored, ruffled blouse, and a pearl necklace with matching earrings to top it off. Not a single tattoo in sight, and certainly no cigarette in hand. Your heels clicked against the pavement, smoothing down your skirt as you made your way inside.

The second you enter, you’re hit with a haze of smoke and the overwhelming smell of alchohol, nicotine, and sweat. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before you head for the bar.

You shuffle your way over to an empty stool at the front and take a seat, plopping your beaded purse on the counter. As you wait for the bartender to make their way to you, you take a better look at your surroundings. The place felt oddly cozy for being in such a frumpy looking building, and a band was playing some sort of aggressive rock song you had never heard before. Despite it being a little too loud, and a little too cluttered, you were already starting to relax a little.

“Hey there, what can I get for ya?”

You whip your head around at the voice, and your stomach instantly falls into your shoes. It would be impossible not to recognize the dark mop of curls that you got so used to seeing bouncing about the halls you shared all those years ago.

Although now it was pulled back into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, loose curls falling around his face. You’d hate to admit it, but he looked really nice.

“Well if it isn’t the little princess.” he laughs, and you feel your fists clench at the old nickname. “Didn’t think this was really your scene.”

“Well that would be a correct assumption, Munson.” you bite, bouncing back from the initial shock, “Unfortunately, it was the closest bar to my apartment, and I wasn’t in the mood to drive across town.”

Your grumbling makes you feel like a petulant child with a grudge, but you can’t help it. Eddie just always has getting on your nerves.

“I didn’t know you worked here, or I would have made the sacrifice.”

Eddie smiles his big, toothy, infuriatingly smug smile, and shakes his head, “You haven’t changed one bit, huh princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” you demand through gritted teeth, holding on to every ounce of restraint you have not to scream at him to just get you a drink.

He leans forward on the counter with a lopsided, goofy sort of expression, invading your space and ignoring your little outburst. “So what brings you in here tonight, princess? Boy troubles?” he mocks with a pouty tone.

You glare daggers into his skull, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “Just a beer will do.”

He gives a small salute before leaving to get you your drink of choice.

The rest of the night is spent drinking, wallowing, and actively avoiding any and all interactions with the familiar bartender. The minimal interaction you did have involved him pushing every button in sight, and you fighting to maintain an ounce of self control.

Any time your eyes made their way over to him, of their own volition, his eyes were already on you. He had this look, like he knew something you didn’t, and it infuriated you. Oh how you hated him.

It had always been this way, ever since high school. He made it his mission to push you to your limit, and you always had to one up him somehow. It became almost like a game. You weren’t surprised to see he hadn’t changed after all this time. It was almost comforting in way, if you thought about it long enough.

As the night went on, the activity slowly started dying down, and the atmosphere got quieter. You were on your second beer of the night, trying to let the cold liquid take the edge off. Even still, you felt your fingers tap against the counter with anxiety.

How could he leave you to fend for yourself at the drop of a hat? After nine months? Did your relationship hold that little of value? How were you supposed to afford next quarter’s rent? There’s no way you could afford to live in your current apartment. You would have to move. How would you find somewhere decent to stay in such a short amount of time? You were screwed.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re gettin’ ready to close up.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up to see the one person you wanted to see the least right now. His expression was soft. Softer than you’ve ever seen it aimed in your direction. It made you want to dig your nails into his skin.

“You alright?”

The question takes you aback, your brows furrow at the uncharacteristic behavior. “Fine, thanks.” you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink.

He looks at you with what can only be described as sympathy, and you feel your chest tighten. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You mull over the words for a moment. The answer should be so simple. You don’t smoke. In fact, you’ve never smoked once in your life. Why would you ever agree to smoke with him of all people?

But then his hand is outstretched across the bar for you to take a cigarette, and his eyes look so… kind? You’ve never thought of that word to describe him before. Maybe it was the alchohol, or maybe he put some sort of curse on you, because suddenly you’re taking the cigarette and following him out front.

You can’t help but watch as his thumb flicks at the lighter, putting it up to your lips before bringing it to his own. You follow his lead inhaling the smoke, and then you’re instantly coughing and spluttering it back out of your lungs.

He laughs lightly as he cooly blows the smoke to the side to avoid getting it in your face. “I take it you’ve never smoked before? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Munson.” you spit out, face heating up with embarrassment as you make another attempt, ignoring the burning in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, before anyone decides to break it.

“So,” he starts, “You a big time writer now?” he asks, staring at the pavement.

He remembered you wanted to be a writer? You didn’t even think he knew that about you. “English teacher, actually. Hawkins High.”

He looks at you then, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “You stuck around that hell hole? No wonder you’ve still got that stick up your ass.”

You scoff bitterly, “Well I guess some of us are more academically inclined than others.” you glare, “I actually enjoy my job, shocking as that may be to you.”

“I'm sure you do, sweetheart.” Eddie replies smugly, causing you to grit your teeth as he leans against the brick wall of the building. "Gettin' to boss people around all day must be a dream come true for you." The parking lot is almost completely empty at this point.

Of course his civility was just a calm before the storm. You mentally pinch yourself for your momentary lapse of judgement. “God, you are such a-“

“Comedian? Kind soul? Sight for sore eyes?” he offers dramatically, eyes twinkling at your grimace.

“I was going for obnoxious, conceited, prick.” You hiss, stomping out your cigarette, “and I do not have a stick up my ass!” you shout, turning on your heel to leave.

Eddie rushes to catch up to you, laughing boyishly in a way that makes you speed up. “Aw come on, princess, don’t be like that. I was just teasing.”

“I said not to call me that-” You whip around to face him, and suddenly you’re practically chest to chest, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You’re so close you wonder if he can feel your heart racing behind your ribs.

Then he’s looking at you with that look. The one that makes your insides bubble over with fury. The one that makes you feel like he knows some sort of deep secret about you. It makes you want to slap him in his smug face. Yet, for some reason, you can’t seem to look away from his gaze.

Finally, you pull yourself away, and march over to your car. Just as you open your door, you hear a retreating shout of, “Next drink’s on me, princess!” and then you’re out of there faster than you can process your heaving chest and shaky hands.

After that, you somehow end up back in that same bar every Friday. Some sort of force, unbeknownst to you, seemed to draw you in like a magnet. As promised, the next drink was on him… and the next, and the next, no matter how many times you tried to refuse.

No matter how much you tried to talk yourself out of it, you always ended up sitting on the same stool, at the same time, with the same drink in your hand. Every week, without fail, you would leave the bar a fuming, heated mess with only one thing on your mind. Eddie fucking Munson.

This week in particular was different. You were absolutely swamped with assignments that needed to be graded, and you spent all of Thursday night and Friday working on getting them done.

It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you noticed the hiccup in your routine, and for some reason it made you sad. It wasn’t like you were obligated to go every weekend, but a part of you had grown to enjoy your Friday nights at the bar. Then some sick, twisted part of you wondered if he had noticed your absence, but you shoved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.

As the day went on, you convinced yourself it wouldn’t hurt to just go tonight instead. After all it was a Saturday night, and you had already cleared your workload for the week, so it’s not like there was any real harm in it.

Alternatively, it was a Saturday night. Eddie’s band performed Saturday nights. You didn’t want him to think you were there to see him, because you most certainly were not. You just didn’t want to miss out on your weekly drink, that’s all. Nothing more.

Still, it was a Saturday night. It would do you some good to look a little nicer, right?

You start to regret it the second you park your car. The shift in the air is blatantly obvious as you enter walk towards the crowded space. Men out front whistle at you as you walk to the door, and you can feel eyes practically digging into your skin as u head for your usual seat at the bar. Your leg bounces with nerves at the attention. You've never worn this dress before. Never had a reason to. You don't allow yourself to wonder why you chose to wear it tonight.

You ask the bartender for a long island iced tea, and catch yourself checking the small stage in the back of the room. You internally scold yourself and glue your eyes to your drink.

It isn’t long before cheers are heard around the bar, pulling your attention up to see Corroded Coffin walking out on stage.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” Eddie’s voice booms out of the speakers, causing people to whoop and holler in reply. You feel your leg begin to bounce.

He continues talking to the small crowd while his band finishes setting up, and you can’t stop yourself from ogling at him. You desperately want to pull your eyes away, to look at anything else, but you can’t.

He’s wearing an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off his arms, chest, and a sliver of his waist. Your eyes trail across the exposed skin, noticing he has quite a few new tattoos littering it, and your stomach twists. He has leather and chain bracelets decorating his wrists, curls falling wildly around his face, and you notice light bouncing off of his signature rings still adorning his fingers. You definitely don’t remember him looking like this in high school.

As he moves around the stage it’s abundantly clear how confident he is up there. His stage presence is truly impressive, and his voice is really something. It's gotten deeper since the last time you heard it. You subconsciously wet your lips as you watch his fingers move around the neck of his guitar. He’s come a long way since the last time you saw him perform. You can’t help but smile as you watch him in his element.

Then the smile is wiped clean off of your face when he makes direct eye contact with you from across the bar. You freeze, feeling like you suddenly have shards of glass lodged in your throat. Has he known you’ve been sitting here the whole time? If he saw you smiling you might have to run into oncoming traffic.

Then you notice what he’s singing.

“I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely I lie waiting for you I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing I lick my chops and you're tastin' good”

Your stomach flips and you can feel your whole body heating up. Something tells you he notices too, which makes it a million times worse. What the hell is wrong with you?

“I do whatever I want to do ya I'll nail your ass to the sheets A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya I fuck like a beast”

You shift in your seat, the eye contact becoming far too overwhelming. You opt to look down at your lap for the remainder of the song to prevent yourself from doing something embarrassing.

Soon enough the set is over, and the band starts breaking down their set up. You’re so deep in your own thoughts by the end of it that you fail to notice the man approaching you, until his arms are caging you against the bar.

“Well hello there, pretty lady.” You gasp at the familiar voice speaking directly into your ear, feeling his shirt graze your back. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He beams down at you, watching you huff and roll your eyes as you turn to face him. Your fingers wriggle with the efforts not to hit him.

“It was an impulsive decision.” You mutter quietly, eyes briefly darting to his toned arm beside you before snapping back to his face, “I didn’t come yesterday.” You concede, unsure of what else to say.

He smiles, seemingly amused. “I know. Your seat was empty all night.” he says lowly, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s pushing off of the counter to head back behind the bar and help clean up.

So he did notice. Did he miss you? Was he saving your seat, or is it just a coincidence?

You feel dizzy with a million questions. Why did you let him get so close? Why were you going to let him kiss you? Why does he look so good. Why do you care so much? You should have said something, anything.

You finish your drink in silence, watching Eddie as he flits around tidying up the place, and then the bar is closing. You feel your gut twist at the thought of going home, and you don’t quite understand why, but you blame the alchohol.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie jogs up to you as you grab your purse, arm outstretched and offering a cigarette. His hair falls prettily around his shoulders, and you only now notice that he takes much better care of his curls now than he did in high school.

“Care for a smoke?”

His charm must be cranked up to 100 tonight, because, once again, you agree with less hesitation than you would have liked.

You stand out front, Eddie waving goodnight to Garret as he heads to his car, and you watch as the last car whirs out of the lot. Then you are alone. Just you and Eddie. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“How’d you like the show?” he asks, exhaling a puff of smoke in the process.

You handle the burn better this time, holding back a cough from erupting as you take a drag. “It was… good.” You say hesitantly.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, “Just good? Wow, then we really need to get our shit together if we're gonna-“

“You were amazing.” You blurt out, unsure of why you felt the need to boost his ego. You clear your throat before amending your statement, “It… The show was amazing.”

Eddie hums in satisfaction, smile tugging at the corners of his lips around his cig. “You know, you didn’t have to dress all fancy for lil ol’ me.”

You wore a tight, low-backed, black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, sheer black stockings, black boots, and some dainty silver jewelry. Nothing too crazy, but definitely much different from how you would normally dress. Admittedly, you felt a little self conscious.

“Well good thing I didn’t dress fancy for you.” You huff, starting to feel a little silly for trying so hard to fit in. God, did he always have to be so cocky?

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” He starts, pushing off the wall to step towards you. “You look fucking incredible. Of course, you always look incredible.”

Smug bastard.

“Thank you.” You feel yourself flushing at the words, immediately getting sick to your stomach at how much you care what Eddie Munson thinks about how you look. “Glad I got your seal of approval.” You quip sarcastically, desperately trying to pick a fight. Anything to stop you from feeling whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

Why did he always find a way to get under your skin? No one else makes you feel as utterly frustrated as he does.

He’s absolutely unbearable.

You force down another inhale of smoke as you watch Eddie slowly make his way closer to you. The way he’s looking at you makes your mouth go dry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it’s driving you up the wall.

“You know, you don’t always have to be such a brat.” He exhales casually, pausing in front of you. Your heart stops. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me every once in a while.”

“It might.” You rasp out curtly, just now realizing how out of breath you suddenly feel.

He laughs, and the sound makes your insides flip.

“You have such a big fat crush on me, don’t you sweetheart?” He smiles down at you wolfishly, and it almost makes you shrink under his stare. You suddenly are acutely aware of your surroundings.

You scoff and cross your arms defensively, “I most certainly do not have a crush on you, Munson.” You spit out venomously. How dare he even suggest such a thing? It couldn’t be farther from the truth. You loathe him.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, taking a stride closer to you, making you step backwards.

“Think I don’t notice how you stare at me? How you sit up a little straighter when you see me?”

Your back hits the wall.

“You aren’t subtle, princess.”

You feel like a fucking deer in headlights.

“Staring and glaring are two very different things.” You pant, desperately searching for oxygen. Anger burns in your throat at his absolute audacity, and your skin feels like it's buzzing.

“Is that so?”

You can feel his chest press into you as the brick digs into your shoulders. He takes a long inhale of smoke, and your head is screaming at you to push him off of you and curse him the whole way home, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as he grabs your chin, and then, unexpectedly, he‘s pulling your jaw down to part your lips. All you can do is stare at him and his cocky fucking smile at your compliance. You feel like you’re in a trance.

Before you can even think, his lips are pressed against yours and pushing smoke past your lips. You gasp at the contact, effectively inhaling the smoke and sighing against his lips. Your brain short circuits and goes completely numb. His lips feel like the cure to a disease you've been plagued with for years.

For a moment, you almost forget who you’re with, until he pulls back to look at you.

“Well if you hate me so much, then why are you squeezing your thighs together?”

You immediately rip your legs apart, not even realizing what you were doing until it was too late. You can feel steam pouring out of your ears at this point.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

He’s right. For some reason, you do love it. Something about him makes you crave more, and you’re starting to believe he may be an incubus. It’s making you go insane.

So you finally wave the white flag.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Munson.”

So he does. Again, and again, and again, until somehow you end up back at Eddie’s trailer with your wrists handcuffed to his bed frame and your clothes thrown around his room.

Hard rock music plays faintly in the distance, and the room smells vaguely of incense and weed. You feel like you've been transported to an alternate dimension.

His lips feel like they’re everywhere. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and then he’s leaving sweet little kisses on your tits, making you whine and arch your back towards him.

“Gotta teach you how to let loose, yeah?”

He gently tugs on one of your nipples and you gasp, and Eddie can’t help but laugh as he kisses his way further down your body.

“You’re fucking adorable when you’re not being a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You groan as he spreads your legs open, kissing and biting at your thighs. “Shut up, Eddie.”

“Oh I’m Eddie now?”

Your hips buck up in frustration, glaring down at him with a scowl. It feels like he’s been teasing you for forever. “Eddie” you whine out, “Stop teasing.”

He slowly starts kissing closer to where you need him most, but not quite close enough. “You don’t think you deserve it? Why do you think your wrists are locked up then, sweetheart?”

You wiggle and writhe beneath him, but don’t answer. Eddie moves his face closer to your cunt, and you finally think you’re going to get what you want, and then he blows on your clit. You whimper and clench around nothing, flinching away from him. It's absolutely pathetic, getting so worked up when he’s barely even done anything yet.

“I asked you a question.” Eddie tries again, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your thigh while he waits for a response.

“My wrist’s are locked up because…” You take a deep sigh and force yourself to just spit it out so that he’ll touch you already. “because I was being a brat." you grumble. He’s lucky your wrists are locked up right now, you think.

Eddie kisses your thigh in approval, “That’s right, and bratty girls don’t get to call the shots. Right?”

You huff and pull against your restraints once more, before ultimately complying. “Right.”

You figure it won’t do you any good to act out, especially given your current position.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Eddie grins up at you, before finally leaving a gentle kiss right on your clit.

You throw your head back into the pillows, immediately feeling relief at the small touch. He then runs his tongue up your slit, swirling it nice and slow around your little button, making you sigh and melt into the bed. His curls tickle your thighs where he works diligently.

It quickly becomes apparent that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes you wonder how many other women have been in this exact same position. The thought makes you dig your nails into your palms, but the it’s is quickly forgotten when you feel him slide a finger into you.

"See?" He starts, words muffled by your folds, "Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh? To take the reigns?"

You flutter around him, and every fiber of your being wants to say something snippy in response, but all you get out is a blissed out sigh. He hums happily.

His fingers are much thicker than your own, calloused from his years of playing guitar. Looking down you notice he took all his rings off and set them next to you on the bed. He never takes his rings off, ever, you remember that. For some reason the simple act makes your heart leap out of your chest.

He pulls his face back from your slick for a moment just to watch the way you suck in his finger, and he moans at the sight of you. The sound makes your brain feel like static. “Fuck, baby, you needed it bad, huh? You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets and I've barley started.”

All you can do is nod your head and hum in response, and your jaw drops open with a soft moan as he slides in a second finger with ease.

“How long have you been wanting me like this, sweetheart? Be honest.” He asks, never faltering in his pace.

You whine at the question, embarrassment flooding your features as you turn your face to hide it in his pillow. He quickly kisses up your body, gently turning your head back to look at him. “You can tell me. No need to be embarrassed.”

You take one good look at his face, and you know that he already knows. He’s giving you that look. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Mm… Since-” you hesitate to finish your sentence, and then a particularly hard thrust of his fingers does it for you. “Since fucking high school! Christ, Eddie-”

A groan erupts from the back of his throat as he kisses you hard, licking and biting at your bottom lip, and then suddenly his mouth is back on your clit and you feel like you’re floating. He picks up the pace, eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

You feel your hips start to move against him, and he groans into your pussy making you cry out. “Yeah, that’s it.” He mumbles against your core, “Ride my face, honey.”

You can’t control the plethora of sounds that escape you, and your body seems to have a mind of its own. You writhe on the bed as Eddie devours you, holding your thighs over his shoulders. He searches for your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers, and he knows he’s found it when your eyebrows pinch up, a high pitched whine reverberating throughout his bedroom.

You can feel him smile against your cunt, continuing his assault against that spot that makes you see stars. He never stops looking up at you to watch your face contort with pleasure. His already dark eyes are now fully eclipsed with lust and need.

“Oh my god-” you gasp out, heaving for air as your legs begin to shake around his head.

He can tell you’re close from the way you’re squeezing his fingers and writhing under him. He doesn’t speed up or change his pace, he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moving the flat of his tongue back and forth against your clit and curling his fingers up into you just right.

“Eddie, mm… i’m so close-”

The second the words leave your lips, he pulls off of you. His mouth and fingers are completely gone in an instant, and you feel like you’re about to cry.

“What the fuck?!” You shout at him, voice weak with tears threatening to spill, “Why did you stop?”

Eddie grins from ear to ear, lips and chin glistening with your slick, “We talked about this, remember?” he says cockily, leaning down to lick a bead of sweat from your chest, “Brats don’t get to call the shots. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”

You grumble and kick your legs out in frustration, but he kisses you to make it better. You slowly let him melt you back into putty in his hands, tasting yourself on his tongue. He presses his knee directly against your puffy cunt, groaning at your wetness against his skin as you sigh into his lips. You go to move your hips against him but he quickly stops you, moving his hand up instead to push down his boxers, his dick already hard and aching to feel you.

“Promise I’ll make you feel so good, just gotta be good for me first alright?”

You nod your head frantically, completely and utterly at his mercy. He looks like sex personified, and you just want to feel him. “Please, Eddie-”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing your cheek as he slides the tip of his cock through your folds. “Awh, look at you and your manners.” he taunts, but this time you can't seem to care. In fact, you realize, you kind of like it.

You like hearing his voice.

You like it when he’s mean.

He pushes just the tip against your dripping hole, and you’re practically sobbing. “How can I say no when you asked so politely?” and then he’s sliding all the way into you, and you’re already a wreck.

“Holy shit- you feel so fucking good” he groans and huffs as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you, making sure you feel every drag of his cock inside you.

You’re already panting, stretching your hands against the cool metal to try and grasp for anything that can ground you, but you come up empty. He’s so much bigger than you expected him to be, and the stretch is practically making you drool.

“Eddie, fucking- god”

“That’s it, keep screaming my name just like that baby.” He encourages, kissing and biting at your collar bone, sure to leave marks, “You sound so goddamn pretty when you say my name.”

Eddie adjusts your position, pulling your leg over his hip and pushing it against your chest. The new angle has your back arching off the bed, a whimpering mess as you claw at the handcuffs.

Eddie leans his head to rest in the crook of your neck, panting and whining into your ear. “Shit, princess-”

Your cunt squeezes him at the nickname, and the moan that slips past your lips is guttural. “Oh, fuck-” He clamps his eye shut with a deep groan, gripping your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave little bruises.

That’s the first time he’s used that nickname since you started, and he knows it. He did it on purpose.

He lifts his head to look at your blissed out face, a goofy, lopsided, fucked out grin on his lips. “I knew it.” he gloats, thrusts getting harder, “Look at me.”

You muster up the energy to flutter your eyes open and look at him. The pretty smile on his face makes your legs shake.

“You like it when I call you that,” he beamed, “That’s why you hated when I used that name for you in public, huh. Cause’ it made you fuckin’ soak your panties?” he laughed meanly, watching tears fill your waterline. He leans down to brush his lips against yours, voice lowering into something sweeter. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you practically scream. He looked so pretty, and he felt so good, and you wanted him closer. It was all too much, you needed to hold something, anything. You needed to pull yourself back down to reality.

“Eds- Eddie, please can I touch you?” your fingers twitch where they’re held above your head, “Wanna feel you- please, i’ve been so good-”

Eddie whines at your sweet pleas, but maintains composure. He wanted to stick to the plan.

“Oh, honey, no” he pouts out at you mockingly, watching the way you strain for anything to grasp and his dick twitches inside you, “No, you gotta give me one first. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Too fucked out to formulate a simple response, you simply sob and nod your head. Your hips start to rock up into his thrusts, but Eddie grabs your hips with one hand and pushes them back down into the sheets. You feel like a live wire.

Then he brings his thumb down to your clit, gently rubbing circles on it, and your eyes clamp shut. He kisses your open mouth and you try your best to kiss him back, but he’s moaning into your mouth, and he’s touching you, and fucking you, and Eddie Munson is fucking you, and it’s all so good that you just can’t.

“Eddie, i’m gonna-” you babble, almost incoherent, feeling the knot getting tighter and tighter, “Please please please don’t stop!”

He puts more pressure on your clit and leaves sweet little kisses on your neck, “I’m not got stop, it’s okay.”

You’re so close you feel like you’re about to explode.

“You can cum for me, princess”

That’s all you needed to see stars, black clouding your vision as he rides out your high, not once stopping or slowing down his pace. You can vaguely hear him talking you down, but nothing registers past your ears ringing.

Then your wrists are released and he’s flipping you over so that you’re on top, straddling him, and your hands and lips are all over him in an instant. In this position he hits your g-spot perfectly, and you can’t help but sob against his chest at the overstimulation.

“Just one more for me, I promise.” he soothes, gently rubbing your hip as his guides your hips back and forth on his cock, making you both cry out. You start to set your own pace riding him, leaning back against his legs to give you the perfect angle.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters, breathlessly, “My pretty girl- fuck.”

Eddie was now moaning and whining louder and more freely than before, you can tell he’s getting close now too, and you’re already reaching your second climax of the night.

“Wanted you for so long,” Eddie admits, gripping your hip tighter, “can’t believe this is real.”

You whine at the confession, leaning forward to press your lips to the shell of his ear. You make sure to let your pretty noises and praises flow freely, just for him. Your fingers gently brush hairs from his forehead before scratching your way down his chest.

“You fuck me so well, Eds”

“Oh my god- you feel so good”

“Please, Eddie, I wanna feel you cum”

He’s an absolute mess, wrapping both hands around your hips and bending his knees up so that he can fuck you down onto him. “Wanna cum with you sweetheart. Want you to give me another one.” He rambles against your chest, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red marks behind.

“I’m so close, honey, c’mon. You can give it to me."

You bite and claw at his skin, so close to tipping over the edge.

"Soak me.”

You collapse forward as tears of overstimulation fall onto his inked skin, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder to ground himself while he paints your walls white. You ride out your highs, clutching each other like a lifeline. When you’re both back on planet earth, he cleans you up nice an gentle, and whispers pretty little praises into your skin as you fall asleep with your limbs intertwined.

“Knew you had a crush on me, princess.”

Let’s just say you no longer have to go apartment hunting!

asks are open!

[jjunieworld]

okay but an equally angsty idea for a pt 2 for a bed in your shape

it’s been awhile and kai’s relationship didn’t work out.

he regrets losing his best friend and realizes maybe there was feelings there, him and reader run into one another somewhere, he starts reminiscing and asks if reader ever thinks about their special place and reader hits him with

“it’s just a field”

a life in your eyes ⋆ 𓈒 ✧ 🎑 ˊ𓂃

part two to a bed in your shape — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: huening kai x afab!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff-ish (kinda if you squint), childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers, slice of life, blonde!kai, kai is an asshole at some point, mentions of taehyun x reader, references to strawberry blond by mitski

synopsis: it’s been almost two years since your childhood bestfriend kai left you in your sacred shared field alone and your friendship ended. now the girl your friendship ended over is out of the picture and you saw him again for the first time since that field. try as you must, you just can’t stop the undeniable pull you’ve always felt towards each other.

warnings: drinking/alcohol, reader wears a dress at one point, unprotected sex (wrap it!!), somewhat public sex? (there’s nobody around), mostly soft-ish sex, petnames (baby), creampie, oral (f. rec), some praise

word count: 7k┊part one┊masterlist

author's note: anon your brain is so big and i love you ♡ i literally took this and ran with it so i hope you enjoy!! the context of this is kinda off, so make sure you read part one to understand all of it! this was fun to write, i haven’t wrote a super angsty fic in a while so i hope you all enjoy! all feedback and reblogs are welcome ♡

tears fell from your eyes as you followed the gravel road home, blurring your vision. the sky outside was darkening; the once vibrant bright blue turning into wisps of pink and orange against a dark backdrop. you tried hard not to let yourself break into pieces, but it was inevitable. it felt like you had just lost everything all at once and now you sat alone, empty.

you held the picnic basket limply in your arms. you guessed it was a good thing you had it with you. the walk back to your childhood home wasn’t a particularly long one, maybe around ten minutes, but now it felt like an eternity. you shivered as the passing cool wind flowed over your skin. you wished this day never even happened. wished that you would’ve just smiled when kai told you he was going to bring his new girlfriend to the field that was sacred to you. wished that you never had feelings for him to begin with.

the gravel road branched out onto one of the empty main roads of your town. you followed the white lines, your head turning from side to side as the day turned into night. you still couldn’t believe that kai would leave you there all alone. couldn’t believe that he would pick some girl who he only knew for a few months over you—his childhood bestfriend. that thought only seemed to break your heart more.

kai fucked up. he realized that as soon as he peeled away from the field, knew that once he saw your heartbroken face he had passed the point of no return. but his anger and his pride had blinded him. ‘some girl?’ she was his girlfriend, not ‘some girl.’

“fuck!” kai shouted, coming to a dead stop just before the main road. his hand hit his steering wheel, hard. kai debated on whether or not he should go back to you. put aside his pride and open up his eyes to see your feelings right in front of him. it was just a field, kai honestly couldn’t see what the big deal about it was. so what if he brought his girlfriend there?

after a long moment of consideration—and it was a very, very long moment indeed—he decided to drive back to the field. the sky was getting darker by the minute and he couldn’t just leave you to walk home alone in the dark. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something were to happen to you and it would’ve been all his fault.

kai turned the car around sharply and sped back down the gravel road and back to the field. he jumped out the car, searching for your figure amongst the grass but saw nothing. kai’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and guilt sunk into him deep. you were gone. you were gone and nothing between the two of you will ever be the same ever again.

you wouldn’t lie and say that you never thought about kai. you did. it's been almost two years and you still think about him everyday. he was your best friend, after all. you saw him in everything; the beautiful sunsets, the morning dew on the blades of grass, the freshly baked goods and the deliciously made sandwiches. you couldn’t escape him.

it didn’t help that all of your friends were also his. you constantly heard about him, even if your friends tried to not talk about him around you after noticing how separate you and kai were from each other. you guess if came with its pros as well as its cons. without your mutual friends, you never would’ve known that kai had broken up with his girlfriend. the very same girlfriend your friendship ended over.

from what you’ve heard from your friends, the breakup was disastrous. in fact, their whole relationship was seemingly disastrous from the very beginning. “are you sure you want to hear about this?” your friend, beomgyu, asked you seriously. “i know the two of you don’t really hang around each other anymore…”

you nodded, you had to know what happened for your own peace of mind. you had to know what everything ended over. beomgyu sighed, but told you anyway, “apparently she was one of the paranoid types—you know, the ones who always think you're cheating when you step out to go to the store or something? from the beginning she was really insecure that kai was seeing someone else, even though that wasn’t true.”

your brows raised. kai had never spoken about any of that when the two of you were still friends. “yet they lasted almost two years?” you questioned. beomgyu scoffed slightly and shook his head as he thought about it. “i know, that’s the thing. he was trying to break it off with her from the very beginning but she would always find some way to tie herself around him. then, he found her in bed with her best friend’s brother!” beomgyu exclaimed, pointing a finger down onto the table as he spoke in conjunction with his words.

a small gasp escaped you as your eyes widened. “so she was projecting?” you asked though you already knew the answer. beomgyu nodded as he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. you shook your head as your phone went off. you briefly checked it and looked back up at beomgyu, “of course she was… i gotta go gyu, i’m meeting with taehyun. you still coming to yeonjun’s party next weekend?”

beomgyu stood with you as you grabbed your things. “you know i’ll be there! bye y/nie, tell taehyun i said hi!” you smiled at him as he pulled you into a hug, telling him goodbye in return. you rushed out the café and to where taehyun was outside waiting for you with a smile.

you didn’t get to take two steps towards him before your arm was being grabbed at. spinning in the direction, you furrowed your brows in question. what you weren’t expecting was to come face to face with kai after almost two years. “y/nie…” kai breathed.

glancing over to taehyun, he wore a look of confusion on his face that probably mirrored yours. you looked back to kai with an eyebrow raised. how dare he address you like you were still best friends? “kai,” you responded curtly. kai flinched ever so slightly, like he didn’t realize that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“h-how are you?” he then asked. you loathed looking at him. loathed how your eyes took in every detail of him and memorized it until all you saw when they closed was what he looked like. loathed how you noticed that even after almost two years his hair still turned golden in the sunlight. you hated him. “fine. look, not to cut our conversation short but i have to go,” you spoke fastly, wanting the conversation to end as quickly as possible.

but most importantly, you loathed how as soon as you laid your eyes on him all your feelings for him came rushing back like a tsunami. you hated how you still loved him, even though now you were with someone else. you jogged up to taehyun and pressed a kiss to his lips. “let’s go,” you murmured, willing yourself not to look back at kai as you moved to get into taehyun’s car.

it didn’t surprise you when you and taehyun didn’t last. you couldn’t help but feel bad about it because you knew it was your fault. you started to become absent in your relationship, too busy noticing kai. that’s all you seemed to do ever since you first saw him again. all you could see was how he avoided you every chance he got. it’s been months and your head has once again been clouded by him.

your being itched to go back to the field, but you refused the call. it wasn’t your field anymore—it wasn’t anything to you anymore. the once painterly hills wouldn’t afflict the same calmness in you as it once did. not without kai. you knew it deep in your heart.

thankfully, you and taehyun ended on good terms. “i just feel like you’re distracted, y/n. like your heart isn’t in it. your mind seems elsewhere and until you bring yourself back to earth, i think we should break things off for the both of us,” he had told you. you weren’t even sad, you were relieved, and that caused guilt to eat away at you.

now you were at a party being held for your friend soobin, completely unaware that kai would also be there since he’s soobin’s friend too. when you walked into the house, your eyes had immediately connected and you quickly looked away as you ducked to some corner. “shit…” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed a drink. how could you forget? they were his friends before they were yours after all.

you downed your shot and walked over to soobin to tell him happy birthday, avoiding kai who stood a couple steps away from him. soobin pulled you into a hug as he thanked you with a big smile. the party was already in full swing when you arrived and a lot of people were already tipsy. you grabbed another drink to nurse through the night as you found an empty spot on the couch to sit on.

the cake was brought out about an hour later and everyone gathered around soobin to sing to him and watch him blow out his candles. through the crowd your eyes lingered on kai and the way the smile on his lips never disappeared as he watched his friends celebrate. you took another sip of your cup—which was now almost empty—as you made your way back to the couch, deciding to skip out on the cake.

a laugh slipped from your lips as you watched your drunk friends sloppily cut the cake and hand it out to people. they were barely able to stand on their own two feet, let alone handle sharp knives. not that you were faring better yourself. your eyes were getting more and more bleary with each sip you took and it made you wonder just how strong the drinks were.

you felt the couch dip next to you. blinking slowly, you turned to see who the culprit was and your eyes widened after a moment of processing who was next to you. kai gave you a lazy smile, very clearly drunk. “hi y/nie!” he smiled. before you could reply, he added, “why aren’t we friends anymore? i still don’t understand it no matter how hard i try. i just know that i made you sad.”

kai’s face turned solemn and he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers like he used to do when you were kids. when you were upset as kids, kai would intertwine your hands with his and let you rest your head on his shoulder. he would then tell you that everything would be okay because one day you would grow up and become adults and nothing would be able to stop you.

as much as you wanted to move away from him, you weren’t in your right mind to think clearly. “why don’t you ask your girlfriend?” you spoke, sharpness edging its way into your words. you knew that they had broken up, but you still wanted to see his reaction. kai just laughed, “i would if we were still together! haven’t been for months. you don’t have to worry about her anymore. it can just be me and you again like it always should’ve been!”

you took your hands from his, ignoring how cold your hands felt without the warmth of kai’s. “it can’t just be ‘just me and you’ again kai. you can’t just ignore me for two years and then come back because you have no one to pine over you anymore.” kai furrowed his eyebrows, “it’s not like that, y/nie.” you shook your head in return, “it is.”

“it isn’t,” kai stated firmly, or as firmly as he could while drunk and with slurred speech. “you don’t know how much i missed you these past two years.” you scoffed at him unbelievingly. missed you? it sure didn’t feel like it when he was avoiding you at every possible turn. “you missed my company, not me,” you shot back.

“i. missed. you,” kai said, separating each word. he moved to look into your eyes to ensure you got his message clearly. “did you miss me?” he asked—more slurred, as he took another larger sip from his cup. you rolled your eyes at him. “don’t ask me stupid questions,” you replied. kai smiled widely at you from the brim of his cup.

you took the cup from him and sat it on the end table near you. he really didn’t need to be drinking anymore. “you’re way too drunk. who’s taking you home?” you asked as you turned back to him. you hated how you still cared about his wellbeing after he clearly showed you he didn’t care about yours. kai slumped back onto the couch in your direction and stared openly at you. “nobody, i drove here by myself.”

sighing deeply as you ran a hand down your face, you shook your head at him. “you are so stupid,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear. kai chuckled at you, the smile lingering on his face after. you turned to him, “you’re walking home, i hope you know that.”

“as long as you walk with me,” kai replied without missing a beat. you rolled your eyes at his insistence. you rolled them once more when you told him you would. “i can’t in good conscience let you walk home alone like this. if i’m walking with you, you better say your goodbyes now.”

kai wobbly got to his feet at your words and the two of you separately went around the room saying goodbye to your friends. you were now helping him down the steps of the porch, his tall body practically completely over your shoulders. “and then step—yeah, you got it,” you said as he safely got down. he was lucky you weren’t as drunk as he was.

as the two of you walked down the road that led in the direction of his house, kai was obviously eager to strike up conversation. “so you did miss me?” he smirked over at you, his shoulder nudging slightly into yours more from the fact that he couldn’t walk straight. “i missed my best friend. you were my best friend,” you deadpanned. “were?” he repeated back to you. you stopped and looked at him, completely serious. “were,” you replied and continued walking.

“i’m sorry for hurting you y/nie,” kai spoke softly. you chose to ignore him and kept at your pace. he was two years too late. your heart has already broken and been put back together. and even then, the cracks still shown.

after a moment, kai suddenly asked, “do you ever think about our special place? our field? do you still go there?” it took everything in you not to scoff and explode in anger at him. now he wants to acknowledge how special the field was? “i think about it all the time,” you replied somewhat coldly. “and i went there twice since i last saw you there.”

“you did?” he turned to you and asked. there was a gleam in his eyes. you nodded, “taehyun and i went together when we were first dating. it really is ‘quiet but meaningful’ and ‘absolutely perfect’, you were right.” just as quickly as you saw the gleam in his eyes it left at the mention of his friend. “you took taehyun there?” kai asked. he couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice with how drunk he was. it gave you little pleasure to hear it.

you looked him dead in the eyes as you spoke your next words. you wanted him to see the expression on his face when you tossed his own words back at him. wanted to see the hurt in his eyes like he saw the hurt in yours. “what’s the issue? it’s just a field,” you voice was quiet as you watched his face fall and his eyebrow furrow slightly. his sad expression wasn’t as satisfying as you expected it to be. if anything, it just made you feel shittier.

the two of you reached kai’s house in silence. it wasn’t his childhood home you knew so well, but it was on the same street as it. you only knew where he lived because taehyun had to drop something off to him while he was with you.

you helped him inside and to his bedroom. you turned your back to him when he started to change into pajamas. “so…” kai started, finally breaking the silence. you heard the rustling of clothes behind you. “you and taehyun then…” he trailed. you inhaled deeply. “not anymore,” you exhaled, leaving it that. “oh,” kai said quietly.

you heard the bed creak and heard kai say that you could turn around. you did as told and put a hand on your hip. he was now in his bed halfway under the covers as he looked at you. you gave him a nod before turning to exit. “you can’t leave. it’s dark outside and you’re drunk. you’ll have to walk home,” kai rushed.

“it wouldn’t be the first time i walked home alone,” the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. this is why you didn’t like to drink as much, your filter completely disappeared. “i wasn’t there then, so let me be there now. stay with me,” kai stated as he extended a hand towards you. you shook your head at him, “whatever. fine, but i’ll sleep on the couch.”

a small smile made its way onto kai’s mouth. “don’t be ridiculous, this wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” he laughed a little. you shook your head again, flashes of his words rang through your mind. “don’t be ridiculous, i could never see them that way.” you felt a pang in your chest.

“it’s fine, really. besides, my clothes smell like alcohol.” you couldn’t let yourself get into that bed with him. if you did, you knew you would forgive him instantly, you were already on your way to it just from being near him for so long. you don’t know how long you could take his sulky expressions. it was his fault you two were in the position you were in, so why did you feel so bad about it?

kai pointed towards his dresser and your eyes followed in the direction of it. “take them off and wear some of mine,” he insisted. you sighed deeply. he wasn’t going to let this go. “i’ll look away,” kai added. you shook your head once again as you made your way towards his dresser and opened it. grabbing one of his shirts and one of his sweatpants, you sat them on the edge of the bed and shrugged out of your clothes.

all you couldn’t think about as you put his clothes on was how screwed you were. you were wearing his clothes, enveloped in his scent, and you were screwed. “done?” kai asked and you replied with a measly, “yeah.” he patted the bed and you shut the lights off before climbing in it.

you made sure to put some space between the two of you as you laid next to him in the darkness. you still saw the outline of his figure and felt his heavy gaze on you. “i’m sorry for letting someone come between us,” kai apologized, his speech still slurring. “i regretted it everyday.” you didn’t want to start an argument, so all you said was, “let’s not do this right now.”

“i missed you so much y/nie. i didn’t know what to do without you,” kai continued. you looked at his outline. “go to sleep, kai,” is all you said. you saw him shake his head at you. you tried your hardest to keep your mouth shut.

missed you? didn’t know what to do without you? that meant nothing coming from him and it would continue to mean nothing until he put his money where his mouth was. he could spew all this drunken gibberish all he wanted, but you didn’t believe a word—refused to believe a word until he said it back to you sober.

“i love you,” kai suddenly slurred, knocking you completely out of your thoughts. you stammered hard over your words. “i love you, love you,” he then clarified. heat rose in your face and you knew that if you were to feel your cheeks that they would be hot to the touch. “you don’t know what you’re saying, kai,” you said slowly after gathering yourself.

you didn’t want drunken confessions if what he was saying was real and not from his delirious state. you wanted romantic, dramatic. you want a confession that would steal your breath away and promise a love everlasting. you didn’t want this, no matter how much your heart raced at its potential.

“i do, y/n,” he said barely above a whisper, words suddenly clear. he was so close to you now that you felt his breath on your cheek. his lips just barely missed brushing against yours and you desperately wanted to close the gap. instead you pulled away from him, putting more distance between the two of you.

you shook your head at him, “go to sleep.” with that, you turned away from him and shut your eyes tightly. he didn’t get to do this. he didn’t get to suddenly waltz into your life like nothing happened and spit drunk love confessions. you refused. pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you forced sleep to overtake you.

your head was killing you when you woke up and you barely remembered what happened last night. you certainly weren’t expecting to be tucked into someone’s chest with their arms wrapped tightly around you. slowly, you looked around the room as your memories came back to you one by one. you stilled as you realized just whose arms you were in and flicked your gaze up to kai’s face.

his eyes were on the ceiling and you could see the confusion in his face as you watched the gears in his brain turn and turn to figure out how he got here. he must not remember a single thing. vaguely, you could feel him absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair like he would do when you were kids.

it was then that reality slapped you across the face and you realized how this must’ve looked to him. you were in his bed and in his clothes—things that haven't happened in years—after a night getting drunk at a party. he must think that the two of you had sex.

gathering up all the courage you could muster, you swallowed thickly. “kai…” you trailed off quietly. his eyes snapped to yours, widening slightly. the awkward tension in the air was unbearable. you slowly began to sit up and he unwrapped his arms from around you.

“we didn’t have sex… if that’s what you’re wondering,” you muttered awkwardly. “you were really drunk and i walked you home. you insisted that i change my clothes and stay with you. then we went to sleep.” you rubbed at your temples a little, trying to relieve yourself a little of your headache.

you stood up onto your knees, the blanket falling off of you, “i should get going…” kai’s eyes immediately trailed down your body and at the fact that you were wearing his clothes. his eyes then snapped back up to yours as you moved towards the edge of the bed. he grabbed your wrist lightly, causing you to look back at him. “stay,” kai said softly.

excuses were on your tongue but kai spoke again before you could. “at least until your headache goes away. i’ll walk you back to your car,” he added. your gaze flicked down to his hand at your wrist and back to him. slowly, you started to nod without realizing it, “okay.” kai gave you a small, shy smile as you sat back onto your knees.

he let go of your wrist and you both sat there for a moment in silence as you looked at anything but each other. you cleared your throat, “i’m guessing you don’t remember anything?” kai laughed sheepishly and shook his head a little. “not a thing,” he replied.

this was so awkward. you couldn’t tell him of last night’s events. of how he basically clung to you and told you he missed you and loved you. but at the same time, you didn’t know how long you could keep it inside of you.

“i’d rather not know if i did something embarrassing,” kai said as he climbed off the bed and to his feet. you echoed his actions. kai turned to you, “come on, let’s get you some medicine.” you nodded as you followed him. you looked outside to try and see what time it might be, but could only tell it was somewhere between morning and afternoon with the daylight.

kai took you to his bathroom and dug in the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen. once he acquired it, he shook some out into your open palm and got some for himself. you then followed him to his kitchen where he got the both of you some water.

everything felt so casual between the two of you when it wasn’t. there was too much between you. so many unspoken words and feelings ready to be brought to the light. “are you hungry?” kai asked you, already turning to dig for something to make. you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. finally, you managed, “kai, we have to talk…”

he kept his back to you as he made ramen, “i know we do, but does it have to be now?” you sighed and sternly said, “kai.” he turned back to face you. “eat first. please, y/n,” his voice was quiet and almost desperate, like once you left his house he’d never see you again. and maybe he wouldn’t. maybe the two of you would go back to avoiding each other’s existence while at the same time acknowledging it— forever skirting around each other.

“fine,” you sighed as you slumped into the dining room chair. after a few moments, he sat a bowl in front of you and sat opposite of you. the two of you ate in quiet, but surprisingly comfortable silence. once you ensured he was finished, you looked at him expectantly.

kai swept the messy blonde hair out of his face before settling his gaze on you. “where do you wanna start?” he asked you. you thought about it for a moment. you knew you both should probably start from the beginning, go all the way back to the day he left you at the field, but you needed to know how much he knew of last night. “do you remember anything from last night?” you asked him.

“bits and pieces,” kai replied. “i remember walking home with you, but not anything that we may have talked about. everything from there is really fuzzy—god, what was in those drinks?” you chuckled a little and a smile formed on kai’s face. “why, did i say something weird?” he asked jokingly.

the lingering smile on your face faltered and you looked down to your noodles as you decided to take a bite of them instead of answering. “let’s start back at the field when you stormed off,” you spoke after eating. “you left me alone there. don’t get me wrong, i can understand why you were angry, but you left me alone there, kai. you refused to see my side of things.”

“i know, and nothing will change what i did,” kai said, his eyes falling to the table. “i realized too late that i fucked up. when i went back to the field you were already gone.” your heart pounded in your chest. he went back to the field?

“i shouldn’t have let my emotions cloud my judgement. that field was our sacred place, you were right. i should've seen that it wasn’t ‘just a field’ and i should’ve seen the hurt in your eyes earlier when i stripped it of its specialness,” kai looked up to you and searched your eyes.

you held steadfast onto your emotions. you wanted everything laid out onto the table, everything swept out from under the rugs. “was it worth losing me? cause i can tell you one thing,” you looked him directly in the eyes, “it wasn’t worth losing you. losing your best friend and the person you love most in this world in one swift motion over a girlfriend wasn’t worth it.”

kai’s eyebrows raised in shock at your words and he opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “don’t act like you didn’t know about my feelings for you. maybe you didn’t know then, but there’s no way you don’t know now,” you said, tucking your hands under the table to hide their slight shaking. you continued, “i have to know. was she worth it?”

“no,” kai said immediately. that wasn’t enough for you. “why?” you asked him. he gave you a nonchalant shrug, like it was the most obvious and plain information in the world, “she wasn’t you. she never was.” your mouth went dry and your words died in your throat. you knew that the potential of him loving you more than just as a childhood best friend was raised due to his drunken confession, but to hear him say it so straightforward while sober fully set ablaze the feelings for him you tried so desperately to hide away.

kai continued, “she wasn’t worth losing you, not in a million years. i knew that as i stupidly drove off, when i stayed with her for almost two years and all we ever did was fight over you, and i knew that as soon as i saw you again at that café. she wasn’t you.” you inhaled deeply as the two of you stared at each other for a moment, trying to ground yourself in some way.

you closed your eyes briefly. so much has changed in such little time it overwhelmed you. “what about when you told yeonjun you could never see me that way? at your birthday party?” kai’s brows furrowed as he tried to remember what you were talking about. you saw the gears turn until it finally clicked in his head. “we weren’t talking about you, y/nie… we were talking about the girl he was trying to set me up with. i told yeonjun i wasn’t interested if it wasn’t you and he told me that i needed to confess,” kai replied.

“and now that i’m right here in front of you?” you asked softly, quietly, as if you were scared of his answer. the corner of kai’s mouth tilted up, “would you forgive me if i don’t let you go?” you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face and the butterflies in your chest. he was always the cliché. “always,” you responded, face breaking out into a small laugh.

you then smirked at him slightly, “you owe me a walk.” the both of you stood to put the dishes in the sink. once you were done, kai trapped you against the counter. he leaned in close to you, “and another picnic.”

humming, you placed a finger to his lips and pushed his face away. kai smiled and took a step back to let you free. “don’t push your luck,” you chuckled.

somehow on the walk back to both you and kai’s cars, he convinced you to let him take you to your field after you both went home and got cleaned up. “come on, y/nie! i told you i owed you another picnic! let me pick you up,” he whined slightly as he blocked your car door.

you rolled your eyes but agreed anyway. “good! i’ll see you in an hour!” kai quickly pecked your lips before running off laughing like a maniac towards his own car. “your pushing your luck!” you called after him, shaking your head as you got into your car.

so here the two of you were, sitting on the same picnic blanket the two of you would always use in the middle of your sacred field. you both didn’t have time to make anything, so you stopped at the store and grabbed whatever your hearts desired from the shelf. your picks were spread out on the blanket around you.

the sun was starting to set as it turned the sky purple. you took the last bite out of the sandwich you picked out as you looked up at the clouds. “that one looks like a dinosaur!” you exclaimed, pointing to the cloud. kai scooted closer to you until his chest was just about pressed to your back and your cheeks were touching. he followed your finger upwards, “that’s clearly a flower.”

you turned to look at him, a slight pout on your lips in protest. “like you are,” kai smiled and you playfully rolled your eyes. “lame,” you dramatically drawled out. kai laughed, “oh yeah?” you nodded with a smile, squealing a little when his lips suddenly pressed to yours.

pulling away, you looked at him with wide eyes, “at least take me out to dinner first!” kai laughed more as he pulled you onto his lap while kissing you again. the sundress you wore rode up a little as his hands trailed to your hips. the kiss between the two of you was getting real heated real quick and you broke away to give your burning lungs oxygen.

you and kai’s foreheads were pressed together as you breathed heavily. wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him again deeply. you grinded down onto him as the sudden need for friction clouded you and kai groaned. his hands on your hips tightened.

kai was then laying down onto his back on the picnic blanket, pulling you down with him with your kiss. he broke away, breathless, and looked in your eyes. his hands were on your ass now and he gently nudged you forward. “sit,” he breathed. your eyes widened as his hands moved towards your thighs that were around his torso. “please,” kai added.

his breathless desperate plea could’ve sent you over the edge alone. you sat up, pressing your hands to his chest as you moved to take off your underwear. you discarded it somewhere beside the two of you as you moved up his body holding up your dress. once you got around kai’s neck, you stopped to look down at him. his eyes were too busy focusing on your now exposed pussy.

“fuck, baby… you’re so wet for me already?” he asked as he grabbed your thighs and moved you more towards his mouth. you didn’t get the chance to reply before his lips was sucking on your clit. you let out a loud gasp as you doubled over, back arching as you grasped the picnic blanket. “that’s it, let me hear you. be as loud as you want,” kai said as he briefly pulled away.

he made quick work of you with his tongue. you would’ve thought that he was a starved man and this was his first meal in months with the way he ate you out. your legs trembled as loud mewls escaped your lips. kai held you steady, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs, as you let out a breathy moan. “k-kai—“ you started to warn him but him swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit halted you in your tracks.

you leaned back as you felt yourself cum on his mouth. you tried your hardest not to squeeze your thighs together and instead grabbed at the fabric at kai’s shoulders. breathy moans spilled from your mouth and kai’s tongue helped you through your orgasm. once you were finished, kai licked a strip up your pussy with his tongue, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

breathing heavily and with weak knees you moved down so that kai could sit up. his whole lower jaw was wet with your release, causing it to shine in the setting sunlight. you kissed him hungrily and your hands reached down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. kai laughed against your lips at your eagerness, “you want my cock that bad?”

kai’s voice was low with an edge of playfulness in it that made you want him to strip you completely naked and have his way with you. his breath fanned across your ear and all you could do was nod as you pulled the belt from the loops around his jeans and threw it to the side.

you could feel just how big he was from the hardness trying to escape his jeans. and you weren’t wrong when kai got up to pull down his jeans and boxers. your eyes widened slightly, but you weren’t one to dismiss a challenge.

you had practically climbed kai like a tree, his soft laughs filling your ears as you climbed on top of him. you needed him, desperately. especially in the past two years with little to no contact at all with him. you were in the middle of lining the tip of kai’s cock with your entrance, fully ready to sink completely down onto it with the help of the white liquid still dripping out of you, when kai grabbed your hips to stop you.

“don’t rush,” he said. you could tell he was fighting the urge to not fuck into you with how strained his voice sounded. “go down slowly,” he added. you did as he told you to do and sunk down on him inch by inch. the stretch took you by surprise and you had to grab kai’s shoulders for support.

after a moment of you adjusting to him—more you preparing yourself as you already felt the tip of him pressing into your sweet spot—you gave an experimental roll of your hips. it was like you were suddenly blinded by pure bliss and you were sure you were hurting kai with how hard your nails were digging into his shoulders. “mmm, baby. you feel so good. keep going,” kai said with his eyes screwed shut tightly.

you moved from your knees to your feet and readjusted kai’s cock inside you before connecting eyes with him. you rolled your hips towards him as you bounced up and down on his hard cock. kai’s hands were on your hips, helping you move them with the rhythm you created. his whimpers sent fire to the pit of your belly as you continued to ride him.

kai brought his lips down onto yours sloppily and you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer. your moans and whimpers intertwined with each other as you both inched closer and closer to your climax. the noises filling this field from the two of you was downright sinful, but you couldn’t help but become even more turned on from the sound of you bouncing on his cock.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the finish line and no doubt kai could feel it from how much you were clenching around him. kai’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his nose leaving goosebumps on your skin as his mouth found your ear. “don’t stop… please… please keep going…” he trailed breathlessly. “i want you to cum for me.”

it didn’t take much longer for you to fall into his chest as you dripped warm cum down his cock. that must’ve finally broke kai as he pulled you down onto his chest as he laid back and positioned your hips so he could fuck up into you. “j-just a little longer, baby,” kai cooed at your whimpers. the speed was so rapid it left you trembling again and had tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

you buried your face in kai’s chest, thankful it muffled your loud moans of pleasure, as you listened to your skin slap against his lewdly. you felt kai start to twitch inside you and suddenly his warm cum was filling you up to the brim, dripping out of you from around his big thick cock. you wanted to help him with his high no matter how sensitive you were, so you pushed up from his chest and started rocking your hips as best as you could.

when you couldn’t take anymore—and when kai’s hands were on your hips forcing you to stop—you fell back down onto his chest. you look up at him and ran your hands through his golden hair to get it off his forehead. kai’s eyes were closed and there was a ghost of a smile on his face like he was in heaven.

after a moment of catching your breath and looking up at the sky, you weakly commented, “the sunset is so pretty.” kai’s chest vibrated as he laughed. “not as pretty as you,” he smoothly replied. you smiled as you rolled your eyes, “that was so corny.”

you sat up and pulled yourself off of him, missing how much he filled you up. kai grabbed some of the napkins you had gotten from the store and began cleaning you up. there was a goofy smile playing on his lips. you sighed playfully and looked down at him. “what?” you asked, fully expecting him to say something cheesy.

kai’s laugh filled your ears, “now this place is really sacred and special.” you jaw dropped at him, which only made him laugh harder. “kai!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as heat rose in your cheeks.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @lillynval @hearts4huening @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

part one┊masterlist┊taglist┊request rules

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DUDDDDE!!

I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!

Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭

But any whosies.

I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)

Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.

You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.

I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼

Take your time! <3

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one

notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.

trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.

anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!

i really really hope you like it!!

Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.

You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.

His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.

'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.

People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.

The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.

You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"

Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.

You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.

"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.

"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.

That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.

It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.

"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.

"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?

Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."

"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.

"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.

You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.

Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.

He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.

Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.

"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.

Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.

"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.

"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.

If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.

"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.

You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.

"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.

"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.

"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.

"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.

You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.

"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"

You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.

You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.

"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.

"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.

"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.

Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.

"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."

"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.

"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.

"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."

You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?

Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.

You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.

"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.

"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.

"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.

Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.

Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.

When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."

'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.

With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.

Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.

Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.

To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.

"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.

Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.

"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.

"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.

"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.

The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.

Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.

"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.

"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.

It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.

Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.

They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.

As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.

"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.

You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.

"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."

"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."

Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.

Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.

You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.

With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.

The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.

The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.

Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.

"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.

"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.

"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.

Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.

"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.

Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.

Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.

You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.

Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.

Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."

A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.

Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.

Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.

You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.

It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.

He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.

The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.

Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.

As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.

Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.

"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.

"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.

Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.

His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.

"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.

"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.

Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.

Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.

"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.

"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.

"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.

Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.

You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.

"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.

"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.

Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.

"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.

"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.

"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.

Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"

A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.

"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.

"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.

"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.

"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.

"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.

You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.

"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.

"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.

A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.

Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."

"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.

You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.

"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.

"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.

The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.

"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.

"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."

"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.

"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."

Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.

"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."

"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.

"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.

"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.

Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."

Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.

Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."

"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."

You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.

Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.

You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.

"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.

"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.

"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.

"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.

Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"

Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.

You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.

"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.

"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.

There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.

Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.

Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.

Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."

"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.

"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.

"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.

Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.

His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.

It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.

A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.

You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.

You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.

"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.

"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.

"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.

He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.

You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.

Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.

Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.

"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.

The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though. 

As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.

You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.

Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.

Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"

"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.

"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.

Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.

Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.

His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.

Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.

Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.

"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.

Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.

"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.

"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.

"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.

You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.

Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.

Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.

"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.

"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."

Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.

"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.

Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"

You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."

"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.

"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.

"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.

You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.

"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.

Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.

"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.

"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.

You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.

Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.

"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.

"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.

Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.

Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples. 

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white. 

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist. 

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other. 

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back. 

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours. 

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him. 

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop." 

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you. 

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically. 

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier. 

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds. 

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two. 

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder. 

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin. 

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, more coming soon

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Part 3 Summary: Y/n joins Mike and Harvey when they go to see a client. The client flirts with Y/n, and she makes the best of it, hopefully landing some clients. Harvey is not happy.

Warnings: Reflecting on past relationship, some yelling

Word Count: 2570

A/N: Thank ya'll so much for the support! The more you comment and like, the faster I write. Love ya'll enjoy!

I’m typing away an email when my intercom goes off. “(Y/n), Harvey needs you in his office.” Donna’s voice rings out and I feel nauseous.

               “Ok, thanks, Donna.” Wait. “Donna?”

               “What’s up?” She asks in a sing-song voice, and I can hear her fingers click-clacking against her keyboard.

               “How long has the intercom been on?” The click-clacking stops. I let out an incredulous laugh, “Have you been listening this whole time?” The intercom beeps and I know it’s been shut off, probably for the first time since I’ve been here.

               I smile and stand from my desk, throwing on the black blazer that was previously sitting on the back of my chair. There’s a pastel pink handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket that matches my blouse.. that also matches Harvey’s tie. What a weird coincidence.

               I walk the short distance from my office to Donna’s desk. “Good morning!” She hums all too happily at me. I give her a raised brow and cross my arms. “It’s nothing personal, I hear all around here. That’s why I’m so good at what I do. I’m Donna.” She flicks her hands in the air with flair.

               “Of course.” I smile at her mischievously. “If you hear all around here, Donna, what have people been saying about me?” I’ve been wondering, but had no way of finding out, until now.

               “Well, obviously I’ve heard the she’s smoking comment more times than I can count.” She laughs. “Louis thinks your one joke away from going to dinner with him.”

               “Shoot, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.” I scold myself and bite my lip.

               “What, you don’t date anyone in the office?” She questions, but it’s off. Her tone, something about it… I lift my eyes to meet hers and she has a devious smile.

               “You know.” I exhale and lean on the desk. “God, does everyone know?!” I whisper yell at her. I do a quick scan of my surroundings, and I don’t see anyone looking. I hesitantly take a quick peek into Harvey’s office.

I pause my frantic behavior when I see him. He’s sitting at his desk on the phone and Mike is on the couch. I can tell he’s charming whoever is on the other side of the phone, because even though they can’t see him, he has his prince-like smile on him. My heart swells for him.

“That’s how I know,” Donna whispers in my ear. I jump, I didn’t even see her get up. She gives me a pointed look. “Yesterday, I saw you look at him when you two were first ‘meeting’” she gives air quotes, “and I could see the way you look at him. You couldn’t keep your eyes off-”

“His puppy dog eyes.” I cut her off, but my eyes are still strained on him. I have to tear my eyes away from him to bashfully look at Donna.

She nods with a smile, “The rest I’ve put together from bits and pieces of everyone’s conversations.” She shrugs cockily. “You know,” She stops herself; I can tell she’s debating whether or not to say what she’s about to say, “This isn’t my first time hearing about you.”

My heart flips. I want to question her further, and I’m about to until I smell expensive cologne and a familiar musk. I turn my head to see Harvey just leaving his office with Mike in tow. He sees me and smiles, trying to charm me. Oh god, he’s trying to play me!

Back in the day, I knew Harvey better than I knew myself. So now I know he’s trying to get back in my good graces, what I don’t know is his end goal.

“G’morning, Donna,” He greets Donna and then his eyes slowly trail to mine. “(Y/n).” He has a close-lipped smirk on his face, one he knew made my knees weak in law school. This may be harder than I thought.

I give him a polite nod but don’t give him any more attention. He may still give me butterflies, but I’m still pissed. I turn my attention to the younger man beside him. “Mike.” I greet him with a smile but there’s some tension exuding from me. I haven’t forgotten what he said to me the other day. “Y’know, our conversation the other day inspired me,” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. “I think my next vacation might be in Paris…France.” I say bluntly and drop the smile I was faking as I side-eyed Harvey.

His eyes dart from my face to Mike accusingly. “Yeah, ha-ha,” Mike laughs nervously. “It’s a beautiful place. The architecture, the landscape-“

“The people?” I question in a demeaning way with a smile on my face. I see Harvey tense and he licks his lips. He’s uncomfortable. Good. Harvey’s hand goes to Mike’s back, and I can tell he’s probably giving him a hidden pinch. Ooh, I know that hurts.

There’s an awkward beat of silence. “Well.” Donna clears her throat, “You all should probably get going. Marshall is expecting you.” She urges.

“Ok, thank you, Donna.” I answer chipperly and turn in the direction of the elevators. In the reflection of one of the associate's monitors, I see Donna mouthing something demanding at Harvey. He mouths back something along the lines of ‘I know, I know!’.

I walk briskly to the elevators and press the button; I don’t even check if the boys are behind me. “So, where are we headed?” I ask, but I keep my head straight, facing the closed elevator doors.

They say nothing until I hear what I’m assuming is Mike giving Harvey a little arm shove. “Downtown-” Harvey starts, then clears his throat. I hear Mike stifle a chuckle. “-we’re meeting Donald Marshall. He’s the company lead for Shilton Suites.”

There’s a ding as the elevator doors open. I step onto the lift and stand close to the buttons. Both boys hesitate to enter. “Are you guys… coming?” They are being so awkward, ugh, boys.

Harvey shoves Mike into the elevator before him, he gets pushed into the wall. Harvey stands shoulder to shoulder with me. “How did you like your coffee?”

I think I’ve imagined his voice; he doesn’t move his torso to face me or even glance my way. I don’t answer right away, trying to process that Harvey is actually talking to me-not just a good morning. “It’s the best around.” He hums in a positive tone, and I see a small smile creep onto his face.

I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to be besties after apology coffee, but I might as well throw him a bone. “Louis wanted to go buy me one from Roaster Roos.”

“Roaster Roos?” Harvey finally turns his body to me and has an offended look on his face. My heart flutters and I wish I could beat it down with a hammer. “God, he has no idea what good coffee is.” He turns back to face the elevator doors, and I crave his gaze on me again.

I feel like I’m running out of time to talk to him away from prying eyes. The dinging of the elevator as we steadily drop feels like a doomsday clock. “He wants to take me to dinner.” I don’t know why I said that.

Harvey stops next to me, and I hear Mike’s strained breathing behind me. I forgot he was here. Once again, it’s quiet until he asks, “How would your boyfriend feel about that?” He’s playing the game- he wants to know if I’m seeing anybody. Touche Mr. Douchebag.

How do I tell him I’m single without being pathetic? “Let’s just say, Louis might have a fighting chance.” I shrug. “Why? Did Louis not ask you to dinner when you first came to the firm?” I tease with a smirk.

His demeanor changes and he has a playful smile on his face, just like the good old days. “Oh, please, Louis wishes he could handle all this.” He motions to himself. He still won’t look at me. I need him to look at me.

I smirk and eye him up and down till my gaze catches on his tie. It’s crooked, I notice. A quick fit of confidence comes over me and I reach for it. At first, both hands are on the knot, but then the other lays flat on his chest while the other straightens the tie out.

It’s just like it was in law school when I would get him ready for mock trials. Something so normal, so domestic, about fixing his tie. Finally, finally, he looks down at me. We’re all but inches apart. I look up into his dark eyes and I feel… odd. His warm breath fans my face and I have to force myself away.

Harvey’s eyes stay on me this time. I can sense Mike looking between the two of us and there’s another layer of awkwardness added to the lift again. “Sorry, I-”

“-Hate a crooked tie.” He finishes my sentence. Of course, he does. I can’t stop myself from looking up, and I know it’s a dumb thing to do before I even do it. Harvey is already looking down at me calmly with half-lidded eyes. I take a brisk look over the rest of his face (pause a little too long on his lips) and back up.

I move just a tad further away from him than I was when we first got in. What is wrong with me? I look towards the elevator buttons and keep my eyes strained there. My chest is rising up and down as I think about what I’ve done.

There’s a ding and the elevator doors open. I wait for him to step out so that I can collect myself, but he doesn’t budge. I side-eye him and motion towards the door, “Go ahead.”

I can feel him looking at me, “Ladies first.” He says and his voice makes my heart flutter. I look at him and he’s looking at me like I’m a sick dog on the side of the street that he feels bad for. I bite my cheek and step out.

The whole way to the meeting spot for the client, I’m a pace or two behind Harvey and Mike. Not just because they’re tall and have long legs, either. At one point, I could tell Harvey had slowed his walking pace so I wouldn’t be so far behind, but I resisted being any closer to him by slowing my pace as well.

I need to think. I’ve detested Harvey since we ‘broke up’, but I’m within his vicinity for TWO DAYS, and I can’t keep it in my pants! I watch his back as he walks and can picture the smooth skin beneath. That gets me thinking about his chest… the scratches I left on both… I shake my head, there is something seriously wrong with me.

We arrive at a parking garage and elevator up to the fifth floor. Luckily, this time I keep my mouth shut and my eyes far from his. The client is waiting for us on a fancy, cherry-red car.

“Harvey!” He shouts joyously. The guy is older with white hair, but he seems active and in good spirits. His gaze slides over to me and I feel like an object. My pace slows and I try to fade into the background despite his hungry eyes. “And who is this?” He looks his lips and I pray that it’s an unconscious habit.

“I’m Mike Ross.” Mike steps in the man’s line of sight. “I’m Harvey’s personal associate.” Thank God for Mike Ross.

But this guy’s determined. He nods boredly at Mike before motioning him to step to the side. Mike moves in stuttered motions and his eyes flicker between me and the client. I give him a face that says ‘What the fuck?’, and he gives me one back that says, ‘I don’t know!’

“You.” I look at the man and freeze. He smiles at me and goes back to leaning on his car, “What are you doing with this guy?” He nods his head to Harvey. I see his jaw clench out of the corner of my eye but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle. “With a face like yours, you could be on anyone’s arm.” The implication is clear.

Just as Harvey opens his mouth, I say, “He’s my boss.” I nod with a tight smile.

An idea floods into my brain and my previously uncomfortable posture straightens until it becomes arched. “Yep!” I pop my lips and sway my hips as I get closer to the car. “Until I get a client of my own, I’m gonna be stuck with this guy.” I point with my thumb to Harvey. “You wouldn’t know a guy who’d want to be my client… would you?” I bat my lashes down at him.

He's quiet for a second and I can feel him about to say something, but I want to make sure my answer is a yes. I slide onto the shiny hood of the car and partially lay on my hip. “Cool car by the way.” I bat my lashes once more, but now I’m looking up at him and I can tell he’s hooked.

“Love, I’m sure people would get in legal trouble just to work with you.” He flirts and scoots closer to me on the car. Play it cool.

“Y/n.” I hear Harvey’s stern voice behind me and slide off of the car.

The rest of the meeting goes without a hitch. The client, Donald Marshall, would occasionally throw in the flirty comment or look but Harvey would quickly interject. As soon as we got what we needed we headed out of the lot… Not fast enough to prevent Mr. Marshall from kissing my hand on the way out.

“What the hell was that?” Harvey asks as soon as we’re on the sidewalk. He puts his hands on his hips and appears to be fuming. “You’re gonna flirt with my client- in front of me? I should write you up.”

“Call it what you want, I’m going to have clients begging to have me represent them by the end of the week.” I pull out my cell to look up the nearest Ikea. I try to look unbothered, but my heart is racing.

“You can’t just flaunt yourself to get clients-“

I get in his face and shove my finger into his chest. “I can and I will do whatever I want to get me as far away from you as possible!” My words are laced with venom.

I hate him. Just because he still has those puppy dog eyes and sugary words doesn’t mean he didn’t lead me on and then tell me I was stupid to think there was something between us.

I breathe heavily and he does in return. There is fire in his eyes, and I don’t want him to look at me like that- but I know I’m looking at him the exact same way. “As soon as I get my first client I won’t have to look at your sorry face and I can pretend you’re not even there.” I turn on my heels to the street and raise my hand to signal a cab.

I am so over Harvey Specter.

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @malfoys-demigod @notarobotipromise

If you want to be added, just let me know!

[watermelonlovershigh]

"Y/n, I really want a baby!" /blurb/

AN: i started writing this the same day Gemma announced she had a baby but you know me, i'm a slow writer and proofreader. so sorry it took me a few days to have it finished and posted. hope you enjoy and make sure to leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: talks of wanting a baby, heavy persuasion, small smut scene, breeding kink maybe?

{ husbandrry - soft!harry - uncle!harry - current harry era }

word count- 1,484

After the pregnancy announcement of Harry's older sister Gemma, Harry has become sick with the case of baby fever and tries to convince you over and over to start having children now rather then later.

Ever since Harry has become an uncle to his sister Gemma's new little baby girl, he's had massive baby fever. And it's not like you're opposed to having a baby with Harry. Of course you want a baby with your husband of a year, boyfriend of nearly eight years. But your original plan was to wait for another year or two and that's what you were hoping to stick to. But Harry is mighty convincing.

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

Gemma had invited you and Harry over to her little house back in Holmes Chapel that she shares with her long time boyfriend, Michal. Harry's been finished touring for about a month now so you had a bunch of free time to make the drive up there. When you arrived, you got the sense something was up. There was this sneakiness in the air that you couldn't ignore.

But that all ended after your dinner, as you sat on Gemma's nice plush couch, when she looks to you and then to Harry before blurting out, "We're having a baby."

Harry's eyes nearly bug out his head and he shouts, "What! Oh My God!!" He stood up from his spot on the couch as Gemma shook her head yes and walked over towards her, giving his big sister a big, warm hug. You allowed the brother - sister duo to have a moment before also standing up.

Once Gemma parted from the hug she had with her baby brother, because Harry never breaks hugs first, she reaches out to embrace you in a hug. "Oh My God, congratulations. To you both. I'm so excited for you guys."

Gemma whispers a, "Thank you." in your left ear before stepping back again.

After giving Michal a quick hug as well, Harry questions, "Wait, does Mum know?" His face is still in complete shock.

Gemma nods and responds, "Yeah, she was the second person I told. First being Michal of course. "

You each sit down again and continue the conversation, "I bet Anne sobbed when you told her."

Giggling, Gemma replies, "Oh yes. She first shouted in surprise, quite like Harry did, then cried. It was adorable and sweet."

----

Later that night on your drive back home to London, you look over to the driver's seat and notice Harry has tears in his eyes. You can only see that in the dark because the street lights are reflecting off his shiny eyes. Quietly, you coo, "Harry, what's wrong? Why are your eyes all watery?"

He turns his head to look at you quickly before watching the road again, then answering, "S'just, m'so happy for Gemma. M'gonna be an uncle. But then it got me thinkin', one day m'gonna be a dad and m'gonna get to hold our small baby and care for it and love on it. They get to call me dad. Y/n, I really want a baby." After saying that last sentence, Harry lets a full blown sob come out. One that you debate whether or not to have him pull over because you don't want him to crash the car.

"Oh baby," you say in a gentle tone, reaching over the center console to run your hand soothingly up and down his arm, "it's okay. You're gonna be the best uncle to your niece or nephew and the best dad to our kids one day."

"But what if I don't want to wait for one day? What if I want kids now? Y/n, can we start tryin' for a baby?"

You giggle at his eagerness and respond, "We said another year or two, remember. But I'll consider bringing the wait time lower. Just let me have time to think on it.

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

A couple weeks have gone by since Harry found out he was gonna be an uncle and his baby fever has yet to go away. You haven't gave him an answer on whether or not you want to start trying right now and Harry hasn't brought it back up either. He didn't want to bother or pressure you with answering such a big question. But, he has been bringing more persuasive hints your way.

For instance, the other day you were walking in the park and Harry spotted a little girl running up into her daddy's arms. Harry gets your attention at the sight and whispers, "Can you imagine, our little girl or boy runnin' into my arms? Where they know they'll be safe and loved. Of course your arms too but them feelin' love from their daddy is somethin' extra special."

And the imagine of that does get your ovaries tingling, you can't lie. Just picturing your child running into Harry's arms after a day at school, or after getting a little scrape on the knee, or when someone was being rude to them on the playground. Knowing their daddy will love and keep them safe. Ugh, maybe you do want a baby now.

Another time Harry has shown his baby fever recently is in bed. Right now you're on birth control so you still get to have raw sex and Harry takes advantage of that. Whispering in your ear while making love, "Gonna put a baby inside of you. Fill you up with my cum and give you all the babies in the world."

You breathed out while holding his body closer to yours, "You know I'm..... I'm on birth control, right?"

"Don't remind me. Let me just pretend, alright." Harry mutters while thrusting in to you with love and care. Obviously he knows you're on birth control and he'd never interfere with your medication knowing it's something you requested to be on for the time being. But that doesn't mean he can't pretend he's knocking you up.

And it's something Harry does, not just that time but several times following. Really every time you have sex after Gemma's pregnancy announcement where he got baby fever.

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

What the final straw was to make you want kids now rather than wait until later was when Harry's niece was born and you saw Harry interact with her for the first time. A day after Gemma had given birth, she allowed you and Harry to come visit. Anne had visited first, obviously since she's the mum and grandma, but next it was you two.

When you walked into the hospital room filled with pink balloons and flowers, you saw Gemma propped up in bed with her baby cuddled to her chest. Michal sitting next to the bed in a chair. Gemma waves you both over and asks Michal to grab the baby from her arms and hand her to one of you. (you and harry washed your hands before entering the hospital room) He offers the baby to you first but you shake your head no and say, "Let Harry hold her first."

Michal hands over his baby girl to Harry and it's like some kind of instinct comes forth with how natural he makes it look holding a day old baby. Looking down at the small baby in his arms, Harry coos shakily, clear emotions in his voice, "Oh My God, Gemma, she's beautiful. So small and delicate."

The view in front of you was the best sight you think you've ever seen. Your husband holding his baby niece for the first time. And now all you can picture is you in that hospital bed, looking over at Harry but instead of his niece, he's holding your baby. The one you created together with the love you made. Maybe even doing some skin to skin contact.

----

On your drive back home from the hospital, you blurt out, "Harry, I want a baby. Like right now." Harry nearly crashes the vehical. He has to actually pull over so he can make sure he heard you correctly.

"Y/n, what'd you say?"

"You heard me correctly, H. I want a baby right now. Not in a year or two. Seeing you with your niece today did something to me. Made my ovaries flutter and this big desire to see you holding our baby. A baby we made together." you explain softly.

Not thinking twice, Harry surges forward and crashes his lips to your. One hand cradles your face while the other settles on your thigh over the center console. Then breaking away to catch his breath, Harry smiles wide and speaks, "Yeah, you wanna make a baby together? When we get home m'gonna stuff you full of m'cum and get you so fuckin' pregnant."

His words turn you on beyond belief. And though you took your birth control this morning, you know tomorrow you're flushing the rest down the toilet. Harry knows the likelihood of getting you pregnant tonight is unlikely because you took your birth control today, but that isn't going to stop him from fucking you until his seed eventually sticks. Whether that takes days, months, or years.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[robogart]

💖 Hello beautiful people! 💖

If you've been following me for a while, I'm sure you've seen me ramble about this before, so I appreciate your patience while I do it again! 💖

I've wanted to do a fat fashion photo/blog type thing for a long while but always chicken out since I don't think I'm interesting or fun enough to do one! ^ w ^;; There's a lot of reasons why I want to do this (I'll probably write an essay later lmao), but as time passes, I've realized I never really had any sort of "chronicle" to my life (barely any family/childhood photos or photos of young adulthood), and it's making me feel more emboldened just to strike out and give it a whirl!

That said! I'm trying to debate whether to make a separate blog or just do it here (since I already draw fat babe artwork and it's pretty tangential to the vibes I like to do)! Or if it's a better call to do something separate? Just curious what people feel since you might all be seeing it!

Anyways, I have a project I want to do where I go through things in my closet (since I tend to go through and try to sort clothes I've wear/don't wear) and make more outfits! I'm still in this mindset I've had since I was living with my parents where I'm not really able to wear anything nice/I like! And I'm trying to break out of that and actually give my clothes life! So that's what I would try to do a series on!

And also just hopefully inspiring and making other babes with bigger bodies feel more confident and want to try more outfits as well (I'd be so grateful and honored if I could do that)! 🙏💕💕💕

Anyways! Big ramble! @ w @ But Poll below for trying to figure out whether to just do it on this blog, to make a new blog, OR to make a new blog and just reblog to this one?? 🤔 If you've read this far, you're AMAZING and thank you?!! Big kisses to you! 🥳🥳💕💕💖💖

[mononijikayu]

thirty–nine — gojo satoru.

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation

WARNING/S: romance, domesticity, fluff, family, break up, hurt/no comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, hurt/comfort, character death, depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of graphic content,depiction of emotional breakdown, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief;

WORD COUNT: 7.5k words

NOTE: in honor of the olympics ending tomorrow, here is the figure skating pair satoru x reader which just took a while to write. i was debating adding so much stuff here, but this is so long already and i didn't want to let you suffer my yapping. please enjoy this as much as pasilyo!!! i'll see you for yuuji's story AND the winning story idea from the polls~ i love you all <3

masterlist

series masterlist

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT, SATORU WAS YOUR UNIVERSE. He always has been. Ever since you were a little girl, your life had revolved around Gojo Satoru. You remember it vividly, or at least you think you do. Your earliest memories were a mix of excitement and nerves, curiosity and clumsy attempts at coordination.

You recall stepping onto the ice rink for the first time. Your tiny skates felt like they had minds of their own. You looked up at your mom with wide, apprehensive eyes, wondering if you’d make a fool of yourself or somehow transform into a skating prodigy overnight.

“Just give it a try. You’ll be great!” Your mom waves, encouraging tune echoing from her lips. “Go darling!”

Your gaze swept around the rink, trying to take in every detail. There were adults gliding gracefully, children spinning in wild, chaotic circles, and the occasional crash that sounded like a minor icequake. And then, amidst this dizzying array of figures, you saw him—Gojo Satoru, as he was back then: a whirlwind of energy with an unruly mop of hair that defied gravity.

At that moment, your child-sized heart skipped a beat. You were captivated by his effortless moves, his goofy grin, and the way he seemed to have a magnetic pull on every eye in the rink. To you, he was like a live-action superhero—if superheroes had a penchant for playful teasing and spontaneous snowball fights.

“Who’s that? He’s amazing!” You asked your mom, eyes echoing in awe as you watched him skirt through like an angel visiting earth. 

“That’s Gojo Satoru. He’s quite the skater. And one day, you’ll be just as good.” Your mom grins knowingly. “I hear he’s been in some competitions already, you know?”

“I wanna be like him, mama! I wanna be as good as him!” You say patting her arm, as she smiled. “No, I wanna be even better!”

“You will be, I’m sure.” She says, as she helped you into the ice rink. “You can do it, I believe in you.”

You took to heart your mother’s words. You could  remember clutching the side of the rink for dear life as you tried to mimic Gojo’s moves. It was a mix of determination and hilarity. But you wanted to do better. You wanted to be as good as him, you wanted to be even better.

 “Careful, you’re making my moves look bad with all these awesome spins!” Gojo Satoru skates towards you, grin on his face. You almost fell, but you recovered pretty fast. You looked at him in awe. “Of course, you’ll be in awe of me, won’t you?”

“I’m just trying to keep up! Your spins are impossible!” You reply, eyes full of stars as you stare at him.

“Impossible? Nah, just a bit of practice and a lot of attitude!”

Years later, you’d look back on those early days and laugh at how starstruck you were. It wasn’t just the skating that captivated you; it was the way Gojo made everything feel like an adventure, every practice a chance for mischief and fun. And through all the spills and thrills, he became a central figure in your life—a constant, whether you were gliding gracefully or tumbling spectacularly.

“Remember when I tried to copy your triple axel and ended up face-planting into the ice?” you said, a snicker escaping your lips as you glanced at Satoru. The memory of your clumsy attempt at one of the most challenging moves still brought a touch of embarrassment, but now it was wrapped in fondness.

Satoru’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he recalled the scene. “How could I forget?” he said, his grin widening. “You made it look like a new ice trick!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think ‘new ice trick’ is just a polite way of saying I looked like a flailing fish.”

Satoru’s laughter was warm and infectious. “No way! You brought a whole new level of creativity to the rink. I’d never seen anyone make a face-plant look like part of the performance before. It was almost... avant-garde!”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “Avant-garde? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Absolutely,” Satoru replied with mock seriousness. “You were way ahead of your time. You just needed a bigger audience to appreciate the art of the spectacular face-plant!”

You chuckled, shaking your head at his playful exaggeration. “I suppose if we had marketed it as a ‘revolutionary new ice dance move,’ we might have started a trend.”

“See?” Satoru said, nudging you with his elbow. “Told you. The effort made you even better. Every great skater has a few unforgettable falls in their repertoire. Yours just happened to be the most memorable.”

You leaned into him, enjoying the easy tenderness between you. “Well, thanks for sticking around to see it. I might not have had the best technique, but at least I had you to laugh with.”

“And to catch you when you fell.” Satoru added with a wink. “Though, I have to admit, watching you try that move was like watching a live-action comedy show. I’m still waiting for the sequel!”

You nudged him back playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get your fill of entertainment with me around. Just give me a few more practice sessions to perfect my ‘avant-garde’ style.”

Satoru’s laughter filled the rink as he pulled you into a warm hug. “Deal. And who knows? Maybe your next masterpiece will be the talk of the skating world.”

You might have had a few less-than-graceful moments throughout the years, but you wouldn’t trade those for anything. Because in every one of those moments, amidst the laughter and the tears, there was Gojo Satoru, making sure that no matter how many times you fell, he’d always be there to catch you—or at least to laugh with you when you got back up. 

From the age of ten, when you first got paired up as figure skating partners, everything changed. It was one of those pivotal moments in life that seemed to alter the course of your entire world. The rink in your small town in Tokyo was modest, its walls lined with the echoes of countless skaters who had come before you. Yet, on that day, it felt like the grandest stage imaginable.

The more you saw him, the more you were in awe of him. He was beautiful in a way that transcended mere physical appearance—his presence was magnetic. He had a head of unruly, gravity-defying hair that seemed to perfectly match the uncontainable energy radiating from him. His eyes, bright and full of mischief, held a spark that made you feel as though you were witnessing something truly extraordinary.

You liked to watch his practice session. You watched every movement with awestruck eyes. He effortlessly gliding across the ice with a grace that seemed to defy the laws of physics. To your young eyes, it was like watching a dancer in a dream—a perfect blend of elegance and daring. And even though he was just a boy, there was something undeniably captivating about the way he moved.

You could see the other kids watching him too, their faces reflecting a mix of admiration and envy. He had that rare quality of being able to draw attention without even trying, a natural charisma that made him the center of every conversation. You, on the other hand, felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. You were about to join him on this stage, and while the idea was thrilling, it was also intimidating.

Sure, he could be a brat—too blunt and annoyingly confident at times. His comments were often laced with a teasing edge, and his self-assuredness sometimes bordered on arrogance. But beneath that surface was an undeniable charm, a genuine enthusiasm for skating that was contagious. Despite his occasional brashness, there was something incredibly endearing about the way he approached life with such unabashed exuberance.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself drawn to him, despite the occasional clash of personalities. There was an undeniable pull, a feeling that your paths were meant to intertwine. The more you watched him, the more you realized that beneath his bravado, there was a heart full of passion and dreams—a heart that mirrored your own in many ways.

As you began your partnership, the initial awkwardness and nerves slowly gave way to a growing bond. The rink became a space where you could both express yourselves, where you learned to complement each other’s movements and anticipate each other’s needs. The early days were filled with stumbling attempts at coordination, but through every misstep and every laugh, a connection began to form..

It wasn’t long before you realized that you were in love with him. It was as if the universe had aligned perfectly, making it so easy to fall for him. After all, who else could understand you the way Satoru did? You two had grown up together, skating side by side, pushing each other to be better, stronger, faster. You knew every nuance of his personality, every quirk, and he knew yours just as intimately. You were made for each other.

So when you were both twenty, standing on that podium with gold medals around your necks after the Olympics, the decision to marry him felt as natural as breathing. You didn’t need grand gestures or long speeches. Just a simple ceremony, your hands clasped tightly together, your hearts beating in sync as you exchanged vows. The world saw two champions in love, but for you, it was simply a continuation of a life already lived side by side. 

Now, every glide across the ice, every perfectly executed lift, felt like a dance of love—the bond you had built over the years. You knew that no matter what challenges came your way, as long as you had Satoru by your side, you would always come out on top, both in life and on the ice.

But after competing together your whole lives, earning fame and glory in the Olympics year after year, the house of cards you thought could withstand any storm, any chaos, any catastrophe, suddenly crumbled. You were thirty when it happened, at the peak of your career. It wasn’t during a pairs event, but your individual skating routine—an arena where you stood alone, without Satoru by your side.

The routine had started flawlessly, every spin and jump executed with the precision and grace that had become your signature. But then, in the blink of an eye, something went wrong. A misstep, a momentary lapse, and you felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through your leg as you landed awkwardly.

You knew instantly that something was terribly wrong, but you pushed through it. The roaring crowd, the blinding lights, and the weight of your own expectations urged you on. So you kept going, forcing your body to move despite the pain, finishing your routine with the same poise you had always shown.

When the music stopped, you stood there, chest heaving, eyes scanning the audience as they erupted in applause. You had done it—you had won a medal. But the victory was hollow, the weight of the medal around your neck a constant reminder of what it had cost you. 

Satoru was there in an instant, his eyes wide with worry as he rushed to your side. But even as he held you, whispered reassurances in your ear, you could feel the cracks forming. The injury wasn’t just physical; it was the beginning of something deeper, something neither of you had prepared for. 

The house of cards you had built together, the one you thought could weather any storm, was suddenly teetering on the edge of collapse. And as you looked into Satoru’s eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the moment it would all come crashing down.

The injury was complicated, a tangled mess of torn ligaments and fractured bones that proved difficult to operate on. The doctors weren’t optimistic, and that crushed you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The physical pain was one thing, but the heartbreak that followed was unbearable. You found yourself spiraling into a void of despair, the life you had known slipping away with each passing day.

You began to isolate yourself, retreating into the shadows of your own mind. The rink, once your sanctuary, became a place of torment, a constant reminder of what you had lost. Satoru tried to be there for you, but even his presence felt like a weight too heavy to bear. The once unbreakable bond between you began to fray, each day pulling you further apart.

When you finally announced your retirement, it felt like the end of an era. But it wasn’t just skating you were leaving behind; you wanted to erase yourself from Satoru’s narrative too. You couldn’t bear the thought of holding him back, of being the reason his career might falter. Your failures had already cost you everything—there was no way you would let them drag him down too.

Satoru, with his usual stubbornness, refused to let go. He never wanted a divorce, didn’t even want to talk about separation. But you needed space, a distance that would allow you to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your shared history. Satoru understood this—he understood it all too well. So he didn’t fight you, didn’t push back. He simply waited, hoping that time and space would heal the wounds that had driven a wedge between you.

And so, the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Satoru waited, holding onto the hope that one day you would find your way back to him, that the love you shared would be strong enough to bridge the distance that had grown between you. He waited, because he knew that no matter how far you tried to run, you were still a part of him, just as he was a part of you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE WISHED HE COULD TAKE BACK THAT DAY. But he knew that he couldn’t change the reality of what had happened. No matter how many times he hoped, prayed, or wished for a different outcome, the truth remained that life had robbed you of your dreams. In the world of figure skating, the years were fleeting, and only a select few were fortunate enough to extend their careers into their thirties.

Satoru was one of those few, still gracing the ice with his presence at thirty-eight, but you had always been right there beside him. You were making plans yourself, contemplating when to step away, but it was supposed to be on your own terms, with a final performance that would leave the world breathless.

That’s what broke you the most, he thinks—the fact that fate had stolen that choice from you. You were supposed to have one last dance, one last chance to glide across the ice and feel the love of the crowd, to pour your heart into the sport that had shaped your life.

But instead, your departure was abrupt, forced by circumstances beyond your control. The ice, which had been your sanctuary, your stage, and your life, was taken from you without warning. And now, as you both reached thirty-eight, the painful reality was that you and the ice would part forever in a way neither of you had ever wanted.

For Satoru, it was excruciating to find his footing without you. Every day at the rink felt like a different world, one that was both familiar and alien. He tried to push forward, to focus on his training and his new role as a mentor, but it was impossible to ignore the gaping hole left by your absence.

When he looked around during practice sessions, at Coach Yaga’s stern face, the focused expressions of the staff, and the young skaters striving to make their mark, he felt the sting of loss all over again. The rink was the same, yet everything had changed.

There were no shared glances with you, no reassuring smiles or knowing nods as you both prepared to take the ice together. The absence of your voice, your laughter, your presence—it was a constant ache that refused to dull. Every corner of the rink held memories of you, of the life you had built together on the ice. Now, without you, it felt like skating in a shadow, always missing the light that had once guided him.

Satoru knew that this was his reality now, and no amount of wishing could bring back what had been lost. But even as he trained, coached, and tried to find meaning in this new chapter of his life, the thought of you lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

It hurt more than he could ever express, but he kept going, because that’s what you would have wanted him to do. Even if he didn’t hear it, he knows this is what you would have wanted. And so, with each step he took, he carried the weight of your absence.

And he still got it. Gojo Satoru still managed to captivate the hearts of many in the skating world, even as the years wore on. The boy who once dazzled audiences with his youthful brilliance was now a seasoned veteran, revered and respected.

He still skated, still graced the ice with the effortless grace that had made him a legend, but he knew his time as a competitor was drawing to a close. He had begun to transition into coaching, guiding the next generation of talent. Rising star Megumi Fushiguro had caught his eye, a skater with raw potential and a fire that reminded Satoru of his younger self.

But even with the new responsibilities, the thrill of mentoring, it was hard. Every single day, the weight of your absence pressed down on him. You had been gone for a while now, distancing yourself in a way that left him feeling helpless and lost. The silence between you was deafening, a void he couldn’t seem to fill no matter how hard he tried.

He worried about you constantly, wondering how you were coping, whether you were healing—both physically and emotionally. The thought of you alone, battling your demons without him, tore at his heart. So, he made a note in his head to message you, to reach out once more. It wasn’t much, just a few words, a simple check-in, but it was all he could do. He never got a reply, but he knew you saw the messages. Somehow, he convinced himself that it was enough, that knowing you were still there, somewhere, was better than nothing at all.

At least he knew you were well. That was what mattered most, even if it meant enduring the silence that stretched on between you. And so, he continued to wait, just as he had before, holding onto the hope that one day, you might find your way back to him. Maybe someday you’ll find your way back into his arms.

But he never expected it to be right here, right now. Gojo Satoru never expected that he would find you here today. It was just another day at the rink, one of many he’d spent alone, trying to fill the emptiness that lingered after you left. As he packed up his gear, mentally preparing to head home, something caught his eye near the exit. He blinked, unsure if he was seeing things, but there you were—standing by the door, just like you used to, waiting for him with that familiar smile on your face.

For a moment, he froze, unsure if this was a dream or some trick of his mind. It had been months since you last talked, months since he had seen that smile, and the shock of seeing you here, in the place where it all began, left him momentarily speechless. But the way you looked at him, the way you waved as if no time had passed at all—it stirred something deep within him, something he had almost forgotten.

Slowly, he walked over to you, his heart pounding in his chest. The closer he got, the more real you became, and when he finally reached you, he found himself searching your face for answers. Were you really here? Was this really happening?

“Hey,” you greeted him softly, your voice carrying the warmth and familiarity he had missed so much.

“Hey.” he replied, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you were standing right in front of him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to town?”

You smiled even wider, the kind of smile that always made him feel like everything was going to be okay. “I wanted to see you.” you said simply. “It’s been too long.”

He felt a lump form in his throat, a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “How long are you staying?”

“For a while.” you answered, your eyes meeting him with a sincerity that made his heart ache. 

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Satoru didn’t know what this meant, or what it would lead to, but at that moment, none of it mattered. You were here, in front of him, smiling that same smile that had captured his heart so many years ago. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new.

As the days passed, Satoru and you slowly began to rebuild something that resembled the life you once shared, the marriage that had been so deeply intertwined with your skating careers.

It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was something beautiful in its own right, something tender and fragile, blossoming with each shared moment. Satoru cherished it, adored it more than words could express. He had missed you more than he had ever let on, and now that you were back in his life, he found himself clinging to every second, treasuring every smile, every touch.

You fell into a rhythm together, one that was both familiar and new. It felt like rediscovering each other all over again, like finding pieces of a puzzle that had been scattered but never lost. Satoru reveled in the simple things—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the warmth of your presence beside him. He had spent so much time wondering if he would ever feel whole again, and now, with you here, it was as if the missing pieces were finally falling into place.

Through it all, one thought became clear to him: after living multiple lifetimes with you, each time he was reborn, he always wanted you. In every lifetime, in every possible world, it was you he would choose, again and again. No matter the circumstances, no matter the struggles or the suffering, he wanted nothing more in life than to be together with you. 

If he had to suffer, if he had to endure pain or hardship, he would gladly accept it—just to have you by his side. Because with you, every trial was worth it, every challenge bearable. You were his beginning and his end, the one constant in a world that was always changing.

And as he looked at you now, smiling at him as you always did, he knew that this was all he needed, all he would ever need. Satoru had found his way back to you, and he would hold onto you with everything he had, because there was nothing more precious to him than the life you were building together once more.

That night, you and Satoru were out to dinner together. He had gone all out, renting the entire balcony of your favorite restaurant in the city. The view was breathtaking, the city lights twinkling beneath a clear night sky. You sat together, enjoying a delicious meal, reminiscing and laughing like you used to. It felt almost like old times, a moment of peace and happiness that you both had desperately needed.

As the evening went on, you found yourself watching him, taking in the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his smile lit up the world around him. You loved him so much, and that love had only grown stronger with time. But as you looked at him, you knew it was time to tell him what you had been holding back.

"Satoru." you said softly, your voice tinged with both hesitation and resolve. "I have something to say."

He looked at you, a playful smile still on his lips as he asked, "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words still came out shakily. "The doctor, I visited him.”

He raised a brow. “Is it about your knee? What did he say? Do you need another operation? If so, I’ll make time around it on my schedule—”

“Satoru.” You say, cutting him off. You smiled at him, shaking your head. 

“My love, what is it?” 

You looked downward, as though you were deep into thought for a moment. You raised your head once again and took a deep breath. He noticed the air shift, as he stared into your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him with that haunting smile. He thinks he’ll never forget it. It was seared into him, how you could smile in this moment when those truths were about to come from your lips. The truth he hated most.

“I have pancreatic cancer, my doctor said." you began, watching as his expression shifted from curiosity to shock. "Final stage. The survival rate… it’s 0.08 percent."

The smile vanished from his face instantly, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His eyes welled up with tears, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process the enormity of what you had just said. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the cruel reality you had just revealed.

“What?”

“It…” You take a moment, trying not to break in front of him. “It was a shock for me too. But...…”

“When?” He huffs, as though he was about to run out of air. “When did you find out?”

You couldn’t speak for a moment, almost ashamed. “Two days ago.”

"Why?" he choked out, his voice breaking as the tears began to fall. "Why does it have to be you?"

Hearing his pain, seeing the tears streaming down his face, was enough to break your heart all over again. You felt your own tears begin to well up, and soon they were spilling over, streaming down your cheeks as you clung to him. But you tried to stay strong, tried to find some semblance of composure. You even managed a small, shaky laugh through the tears, though it sounded more like a sob.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a gentle resolve, "All I want to do is have fun with you. With all the time left, hm? I want to skate like we used to, laugh like we did tonight… I want to spend whatever time I have left making the best memories with you."

He held you even tighter, his tears soaking into your shoulder as he cried quietly, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "I can’t lose you, not again." he whispered, his voice raw with grief. "I don’t know how to live without you."

"You won’t lose me, you know what, hm?" you said, your voice cracking as you tried to comfort him, even as your own tears continued to fall. "I’ll always be with you, no matter what happens. But for now, let’s make the most of the time we have, okay? Let’s skate together, laugh together… let’s live."

Satoru nodded, though he couldn’t find the words to respond. He just held you, both of you crying together, sharing the pain and the love that bound you so deeply. He doesn't say anything mroe and neither do you. It was better that way.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

IT WAS A NO BRAINER FOR HIM. The day after your dinner, Gojo Satoru made an announcement that sent shockwaves through the figure skating world. Standing before a room full of reporters and cameras, he took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to say the words he never thought he’d utter so soon.

“Effective immediately, I’m retiring from competitive figure skating.” he said, his voice calm but firm. The room erupted in gasps and murmurs, but Satoru kept his gaze steady, focused on the truth he had to share. “I won’t be taking on any new commitments as a coach either, not for the time being.”

He could see the confusion, the surprise in the faces around him, but he didn’t waver. “My partner, my… my spouse,” he continued, his voice faltering slightly as he forced himself to push through, “has been diagnosed with a serious illness. My priority is to be with them, to support them through this time.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over everyone. Satoru’s heart pounded in his chest, but he knew this was the right decision. Nothing mattered more to him than being by your side, especially now. The ice could wait. The world could wait. You needed him, and that was all that mattered.

It was hard—harder than he had imagined. The pain you were in was unbearable to watch, a constant reminder of the battle you were fighting. He hated seeing you suffer, hated the way the illness stole pieces of you day by day. You tried to stay strong, tried to keep smiling for him, but he could see the pain etched in every line of your face, hear it in the way your breath hitched when you thought he wasn’t listening.

Sometimes, when you were resting, Satoru would retreat to a quiet corner of the house, somewhere you wouldn’t find him, and he would cry. He would cry for you, for the life you were supposed to have together, for the unfairness of it all. He cried because he felt helpless, unable to take away your pain, unable to do anything but watch as the illness took its toll.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he knew you noticed. You would look at him with those eyes, filled with concern for him even as you battled your own pain. He wished you wouldn’t—wished you wouldn’t see the cracks in his armor, wouldn’t see the way this was breaking him. He wanted to be strong for you, wanted to be your rock, but the truth was, he was terrified. 

He wished you didn’t have to see his tears, didn’t have to carry the burden of his sorrow on top of everything else you were going through. But no matter how much he tried to hide it, you always noticed, and that only made him ache more. He didn’t want to add to your pain, didn’t want you to worry about him when you had so much to face already.

But through it all, Satoru stayed by your side, refusing to leave you for even a moment. He held your hand through the pain, stayed up with you through the long nights, and whispered words of comfort even when he was breaking inside. Because in the end, none of it mattered. None of the tears, none of the fear—as long as he could be with you, as long as he could love you through every moment you had left.

Despite the pain that had become a constant companion, despite the weakness that sapped your strength with each passing day, you found yourself yearning for one final chance to skate. The ice rink had always been your sanctuary, a place where you felt most alive, most connected to Satoru. And now, as the end approached, you wanted nothing more than to experience that joy one last time.

You approached Satoru with trembling resolve. He was sitting beside you, holding your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the deep sadness and concern that had become all too familiar. You took a deep breath, mustering the energy to make your request.

"Satoru, please." you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to go to the rink. I want to skate with you… just one last time."

Satoru’s face immediately fell, a mixture of shock and concern washing over him. "No," he said firmly, his voice strained with the effort to stay calm. "You're too weak. You can't do this. It’s too dangerous."

But you shook your head, the tears welling up in your eyes. "Please, Satoru." you pleaded, your voice breaking as the emotion overwhelmed you. "I know I'm sick. I know it’s risky. But I just want to feel the ice again, to be with you on that rink one last time. It’s all I’m asking."

His resolve began to falter, his heart aching at the sight of your tears, at the desperation in your voice. "I don’t want to see you in pain, my love." he said, his own voice trembling. "What if something happens? I can't bear to see you hurt."

You couldn’t hold back your sobs any longer. You clung to him, your body shaking with the force of your tears. "Please." you begged through your sobs, "Just...please just this once. I need this. I need it for me, for us."

Satoru’s tears began to fall as well, mingling with yours. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He could feel the weight of your illness pressing down on him, the crushing reality of it all. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, but he also saw how much this meant to you.

After a few moments of holding you, he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and wet. "Okay....I...." he said, his voice choked with emotion. "We’ll go to the rink. But promise me we’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much."

You nodded through your tears, a small, grateful smile forming on your lips despite the sadness. "I promise," you whispered, feeling a glimmer of hope.

Satoru helped you get ready, carefully supporting you as you made your way to the rink. Every step was a struggle, every movement a reminder of how much you had endured. But when you finally stepped onto the ice, with Satoru by your side, you felt a fleeting sense of peace.

As you skated together, every movement was a bittersweet reminder of the life you had shared, of the joy you had found in each other. Your Satoru held you close, guiding you gently across the ice, making sure you were safe while also trying to hold back his own tears.

It was a moment of fragile beauty, a final dance on the ice that captured the essence of your love and the depth of your connection. For a little while, the pain and the sadness seemed to fade, replaced by the pure joy of being together once more, on the ice where it all began. And in that moment, despite everything, you felt a profound sense of peace, knowing that you had shared one last perfect memory with the person you loved most.

As you skated together, the ice beneath your feet felt both comforting and foreign, a reminder of the many times you had danced together in the past. Satoru guided you gently, his grip firm but tender, as you moved across the rink.

“Just a little slower, hm?” he said softly, his voice a mix of concern and love. “I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

You nodded, trying to match his pace. “I’m okay. you whispered, though your breath was ragged. “I just… I needed this. I needed to feel… like we’re still us.”

Satoru glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and affection. “I wish I could do more for you.” he said, his voice trembling. “I wish we had more time.”

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face despite the smile on your lips. “We have now.” you said softly. “We have this moment. That’s all I need.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you skated. “I love you.” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I love you so much."

“I love you too.” you replied, your voice barely audible as the tears continued to flow.

Satoru’s grip tightened around you, and he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m here, okay?” he whispered. “I’m always here, no matter what happens. I’ll never leave you.”

You closed your eyes, letting the moment sink in. “Thank you for doing this, for me.” you said softly. “For making this… one last memory.”

Satoru nodded, his own tears falling freely now. “I’ll always treasure this.” he said, his voice breaking. “Even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

You stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the world outside the rink fading away as you focused on the connection you shared. Eventually, you began to slow down, feeling the weight of exhaustion and pain.

“Let’s rest for a bit.” Satoru suggested gently. “We don’t have to do everything at once. We can take it slow.”

You nodded, letting him guide you to the edge of the rink where you both sat down, still holding each other. The cold of the ice beneath you felt soothing, a contrast to the warmth of Satoru’s embrace.

“Do you remember?” you said quietly, trying to shift the focus to happier memories, “Our first time, when we skated together?”

Satoru chuckled softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “How could I forget? You were so determined, even though you could barely stay upright. I think you fell more than you skated.”

You laughed, a small, bittersweet sound. “And you kept teasing me about it, but you were always there to catch me.”

“Always,” he agreed, squeezing your hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll always be here to catch you.”

Satoru took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Do you remember when we first met at the rink?” he began, his voice growing softer but more steady as he spoke. “You were so nervous, and I was this cocky kid who thought he knew it all. You kept falling, but you were determined to keep going. I think that’s when I first realized how strong you were.”

You smiled faintly, imagining the scene he described. “I remember.” you whispered. “You were so annoying, but you helped me up every time I fell.”

“And you kept getting up, you would grip my hand hard too.” Satoru continued, his voice steadying as he spoke of the past. “You never gave up, no matter how many times you fell. It was inspiring. It was...It was everything."

As he spoke, your breathing became more labored, each inhale taking more effort than the last. Satoru’s voice wavered, but he continued, determined to give you this final gift of memories. You could feel it. How easily it would break into shattering tears. To see one’s heart break into a million pieces. To be the one slowly being left behind.

“I remember our first competition together, in pairs.” he said, his voice trembling with both nostalgia and emotion. “We were so nervous, but we pulled it off. I remember looking at you after our performance, seeing the pride in your eyes. That look in your eyes…. it was like the stars were before us. And it was everything to me.”

Tears streamed down your face as you listened, each word from Satoru bringing back memories of the life you had shared. “Thank you, baby.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you for everything.”

Satoru kissed your forehead gently, his own tears falling freely. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” he said softly. “I always will. No matter where you go, you’ll always be with me. I’ll carry you with me, in everything I do.”

“In another life, will you choose me again?” you whimpered softly, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. He lowered his head, tears slipping down his face, and after a moment, he raised his gaze to meet yours.

“I always will,” he replied, his voice choked with emotion. He sniffed away his tears, his grip on your hand tightening as if trying to anchor himself in the moment. “I’ll always choose you, no matter what. Even if you break my heart all the time, I’ll be yours.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as well, touched deeply by his words. “Then I’ll choose you too, baby. Even if I don’t remember, help me. Help me remember. So I can love you like this again.”

“I will,” he promised, his voice resolute despite the tears streaming down his face. “I always will. I promise.”

You leaned against him, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the pain. “Thank you, Satoru. For everything. For making these last moments together so special.”

He kissed the top of your head, holding you close. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it. For giving me this final memory with you.”

And in those last precious moments, surrounded by the warmth of Satoru’s love and the memories of a life well-lived, you found a sense of tranquility. You lean your head on his shoulders, taking one deep breath and smiling.

The pain and struggle began to fade, replaced by the profound comfort of knowing that you were loved, that you had shared something beautiful, and that even in the face of the inevitable, you were not alone. The sun had begun to rise again, on your faces. And that it’s already set in stone — Gojo Satoru will find you again. He will love you again. Over and over. No matter what.

[toiletclown]

breathless.

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.

word count: 2028

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot. 

You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all. 

He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.

The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.

“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles. 

Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.

After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.

The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?” 

“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.

After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.

//

And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately. 

“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety. 

“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.

You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”

“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.

//

After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.

“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat. 

You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.

This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.” 

Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?” 

“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate. 

“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.

Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment. 

You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”

Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”

Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.

Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.

“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”

“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”

Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?

[anadiasmount]

Could you write something about jude realising he’s in love with you (so just his pov)

Just him alone in his room maybe and after so much time denying his feelings he lets himself feel for a little and then realises there’s no back to normal, he’s completely head over heels for you

wait i actually love this?? lmk what you think for future purposes 🤭🤍

while jude always denied to idea of love, falling in love, being in love, there was certain exceptions he made just for you. only you. how he could deny that bubbly and tingly feeling when he saw that smile crawl up to your face?

hear you constantly gush, praise, and adore him about how incredibly he was to you. what you didn’t know is that only you were the only one he was doing this too. he should’ve seen it coming after the first month of him in madrid, new, afraid, yet excited to take on his first season.

while jude sometimes felt shy, with you it was like being a whole complete person. his friends would see it, mom and dad, he’ll even jibe was asking what made this new persona in him suddenly change. it was your effect.

yet here was jude sulking with the biggest frown on his face, his thumbs brushing against the screen debating whether or not to send you a message or just say fuck it and call you. jude knew you would be busy studying on a saturday night, especially since your mid terms were coming up. thinking about how you forced him to help you study your flashcards and he took the whole act seriously.

jude felt out of place, and all he wanted was to be with you so desperately. the longing feeling, to feel how you curl up next to him, blabber about the tiktoks you see or your professor who seemed to teach the opposite of what they were supposed to. why did he feel so desperate, the itch becoming more difficult to the point where his chest would begin to pang with pain at the thought of you not there.

“just call her bro, what do you have to lose?” jude’s teammate encouraged over the phone, jude sideyeing him before he gave up and did just that. he typed out your number, wanting to remember it because he never knew when he may need it. the bubble of excitement yet nerves built insides him, jude sipping on his tea before he heard your tired voice.

“hi jude, to what do i owe this pleasure?” you teased, jude holding back a chuckle before replying. “ha ha, very funny. what are you up to right now?” he asked playing with the strings of his hoodie, “i just finished studying for the night, i couldn’t focus properly but it was the same material from this whole week,” you sighed. “is everything okay?” jude asked, practically seeing your nod over the phone. “yes it is now.”

“do you want to come over?”

if jude spent another hour debating he would’ve lost it. but now that you were here, right where he wanted, he wasn’t going to let you go. “okay cookies are made!” you said excitedly, jus expressing behind you and kissing your head. his normal and lovey habit. which you didn’t refuse either. “i picked out a few movies we can watch in the mean time,” he said dragging you to the couch.

jude’s heart couldn’t stop racing. he felt like he could’ve exploded any second now. your scent, the homey feeling, your smile, your touch it was driving him insane. he knew it was beyond playful feelings. he was head over heels for you, and if he didn’t confess now he would regret it later on. he shifted in his spot, making you pull away from him while still watching the tv. “come back here,” jude pouted.

“you’re so needy,” you joked but it was the whole truth. “y/n?” jude’s voice trembled, your eyes drawn to his immediately to ensure he was okay. jude felt a cold tingle spread down his spine, feeling more alive then ever. “what’s wrong-”

“you know you mean the world to me right?” jude started shifting up and getting closer to you, your touch hot against his hands. “i do?” jude nodded, tracing his initials against your skin. “you’re my whole world, y/n…”

“jude stop joking like that,” you pulled away, looking him up and down, but you could tell something felt different from this, from usual times. “i’m not, im being serious right now. i’ve avoided it forever with fear of hurting you or what we have but i don’t care about that now. i’m done waiting and avoiding how i feel,” jude stressed.

“what are you saying,” you asked, jude’s heart wrenching and pounding louder then when he played a game. “i’m saying that i love you and i have for the longest now,” jude said staring into your eyes but all he heard was laughter escaping your lips. “yeah you’ve lost it now,” you got up and went to the kitchen unable to get rid of the gut feeling.

jude was more nervous then ever, your small rejection getting to him more then it should’ve. “y/n why would i lie to you about something like that? you’re all i think about day and night. during training, when i see those silly panda stickers all over my room, or that damn scent you have engraved here,” he pointed to his chest.

“i’m so incredibly in love with you y/n. im tired of just pushing my feelings away because i was being selfish. im ready now, im ready for you. for us. i want to whatever it takes to make you happy with me. all i want is you, you y/n,” jude cried out, his voice pleading the hear him out. to take him out the misery he felt. for you to confess as well.

“jude-”

“y/n please say you love me back… that’s there’s a chance for us, please my love…”

[andy-wm]

i'm wondering how your thesis of "idols will come out when they want" fits into your insane shadow analysis attempting to prove jimin and jungkook fucked in the middle of their travel show (amongst other things)? like do you get joy out or trying to drag someone out of a closet they might not be in? or is it something else? just curious! 😀

Hey wdcmaxy

Since you have the guts to use your name I'll respond :)

So, you read my thesis?

*Sips whisky*

Cool. And you read my insane shadow analysis too?

Hmmm... do you come here often?

Let me answer your question then.

I think we both know the shadows analysis isn't really insane - it's based on very basic earth science. Shadows grow longer as the day progresses because of the rotation of the earth on its axis. You sound reasonably literate so i assume you know this already.

I guess your description of my shadow analysis ( I think I'll name my next racehorse 'Shadow Analysis') as insane is an attempt to discredit the idea that a fair bit of time passed while Tae was out of the house? But that was kinda silly on your part. Even children know that shadows change as the day passes.

Nothing insane about it.

He was gone for hours, no debate.

Now let's move on to the fucking part, and when and how idols choose to come out.

This is actually worth discussing.

As flattered as i am that you think my tiny insignificant blog could be a game changer for anyone, let's be real.

How many people, besides yourself, do you think read my blog?

Serious question.

I'm estimating maybe 100. Double that on a good day. Maybe 300 if i write something REALLY profound which doesn't happen often.

I am way less excited about my impact on the world than you are, because I'm a realist.

BUT if by some strange twist of fate my blog came to the attention of someone whose opinion mattered (I'm not counting you, don't worry) do you think they would take it seriously? Do you REALLY imagine a random tumblr post about shadows could make someone believe that an idol was gay if they didn't already believe it?

Here's a great example of how that wouldn't happen:

You, dear reader.

You're my example.

You came here to tell me I'm speaking shit and that I should pull my head in, correct? My insane shadow analysis hasn't changed your beliefs at all. You're here, throwing a tantrum on my page, because you don't agree with what I'm saying, not because you suddenly believe it.

Or ...

Perhaps you suspect it's true and that scares you. Maybe you can't be absolutely sure I'm wrong and that's why you need to yell at me? Could that be it? Time for a bit of self reflection?

Either way, it's not going to make an iota of difference in the grand scheme of things.

We are all just dust motes floating through time and space, my friend. You dont need to worry so much. The universe is unfolding exactly as intended.

However... There are a couple of things we should agree on:

The fact is that the shadows grew long and therefore, time passed. And Tae was out for several hours. Maybe he went out for a bit of afternoon delight himself? Maybe Jimin and Jungkook played Pokemon Go all afternoon, or prayed, or practiced their English, or braided each other's hair.

Regardless of whether they did or didn't fuck, or how many times, or on what surfaces, the time still passed.

And whether I write my blog or not, people will believe what they believe. And they will be gay or they won't be gay.

And even though I never mentioned anything about them fucking in that post, whether you like it or not Jimin and Jungkook might be fucking right now, as you read this.

One last thing...

Please bear in mind, through all of this, that fucking is not the be all and end all of life. Sure its a lot of fun if you do it right but the notion that it's more meaningful than sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, or giving someone your time and energy, is bullshit.

You can have a roots-deep love for someone and never even think of fucking them. Or you can meet someone in a public toilet and have at it, and leave without even knowing their name.

Sex does not equal love. Fucking is not that big of a big deal.

Unless...

Unless you're fucking someone the patriarchy doesn't want you to fuck. Then its a major issue.

Hear me out.

The need to control who we fuck is based a patriarchal need to control material wealth.

To control material wealth, the patriarchy needs to control reproduction (so they can be sure their wealth stays with their bloodline, because wealth is built over many generations) and to do THAT they need to control womens' bodies.... and to do that, of course they need to control who women fuck. And who men fuck too!

Do you know what the ACTUAL issue is with men who like dick? They don't automatically buy into the patriarchal way of life. (where's the solidarity, lads?)

Why don't they?

Because lifelong monogamy and marriage and nuclear families don't matter as much when you're not equating love with sex, and sex with reproduction. When your goal isn't to accumulate wealth and pass it down to your children.

Same thing applies to women who love women. They aren't focused on being demure and pleasing the men in power. They aren't focused on making themselves wife material. They will challenge the status quo and maybe even (shock! horror!) decide not to have children. How the heck do you make sure your money and power stays in the family, how do you build an empire, when the women are perfectly happy having sex with each other and don't want to love, honour and obey??

And whose fault is all this?

Its got to be the damned queers, right? They're making people think there might be other ways to share your life with those you care about! That's why its important to squash down gayness whenever you can, right, wdcmaxy?

Look at them destroying the fabric of society!

If Jimin and Jungkook ARE fucking every chance they get, good for them. I hope they're balls deep and breathless, hitting all those sweet spots for each other having a really good time.

And if they're not fucking, it actually doesn't matter to me because the way they support each other and share their hearts is beautiful. (I do think they are fucking though)

Truthfully, whatever they're doing, as long as they're happy I'm happy.

Can you say the same, wdcmaxy?

Peace.