#anyways we move this was a month ago and I feel better now

[cheynovak]

The Beach City Reunion

Summary: Follows up fanfiction 'Spikes' Y/N returns to the beach city grill after 5 years. Meeting Priestly who has been going through a break up with Tish.

Warning: none

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hadn’t set foot in Beach City Grill in five years. The place looked mostly the same—faded posters of bands on the walls, the familiar hum of music in the background, and the faint smell of fries and grilled burgers wafting through the air. But as she walked in, scanning for any trace of the old Priestly, her eyes caught on someone who almost looked like him… but not quite.

He was wearing a plain blue button-down shirt, his once vibrant, spiked hair now a subdued shade of brown with a matching beard, smoothed down to an almost painfully ordinary style. She blinked, wondering if she was imagining things.

“Priestly?!” she called out, half-questioning, half in disbelief.

He turned, and when he saw her, his face lit up like a firework. Before she could react, he was around the counter, pulling her into a warm hug.

“Y/N!” he said, grinning. “Wow, look at you! You’ve… changed!” She laughed, pulling back to look at him. “Me? Look at you! W-what happened?”

They slipped into one of the booths, and for a moment, Y/N couldn’t stop staring. She missed the wild, bold Priestly she’d once adored, and this version of him looked like he’d been smothered in beige.

He gave her a sheepish look, glancing down at his shirt. “Tish happened. She, uh, liked me better like this. Thought I should look ‘respectable’—whatever that means. I guess she thought I was only worth dating if I, well, dressed ‘normal.’ So I tried it for her, figured it was worth it if it made her happy.”

Y/N listened quietly, seeing a flicker of embarrassment and something else—something lost—in his eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “we broke things off a couple of months ago. She said I’d come back ‘begging for another chance,’ but… I don’t think that’s gonna happen. I realized I just don’t know who I am anymore. Lost myself somewhere along the way.”

She nodded, giving him a small, understanding smile. “Sometimes, you think someone’s worth changing for. But if it means you stop being you…” She trailed off, knowing he’d get it.

Priestly chuckled, a hint of his old spark showing through. “Yeah, funny to hear that coming from you."

She grinned, and he noticed a faint edge of her old punk style still shining through—rings on her fingers, a subtle black eyeliner that gave her an edge, But the spiked choker was gone and changed for a leather jacket.

“So,” he said, leaning in with a warm smile, “what about you? How’s life been since you flew the coop?”

She shrugged, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement bubble up. “A lot’s changed. I went to college, didn't finish, moved around a bit. I’ve grown up, well a little. Showed up at your doorstep.”

Priestly gave her a look—one of admiration, maybe even a touch of envy. “I’m glad you came back. You look good, Y/N. Like… like you didn’t lose yourself along the way, you grew, literally and figuratively, I like it.”

She felt her cheeks heat, but she kept her gaze steady. “Priestly, the guy who always makes a girl feel special." She smiles softly before adding, "I aways thought you were amazing just the way you were.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, he looked like he believed her.

“Maybe it’s time to bring a little of that guy back,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “The boring brown hair and button-downs were never really me anyway.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the grill as if nothing had changed at all. And as they sat there, catching up and reconnecting, Priestly felt like he was finally waking up from a long, colorless dream.

Y/N could feel Tish’s glare burning into them as she leaned across the counter to pay, with a mischievous smile. “Why don’t I take you shopping after your shift?” she suggested, tapping her fingers playfully on the countertop. “It’d be nice to catch up… and maybe ditch the corporate look. Show a little more of those tattoos again?”

Priestly glanced at Tish, who was shooting them daggers from across the room, and then shrugged with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, why not?” he replied, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll see you at five.”

By the time they hit the first store, Y/N was buzzing with excitement. She dragged Priestly to every section, picking out things that she knew he would’ve rocked a few years back. A leather jacket here, a pair of torn jeans there. She even managed to dig up a kilt, holding it out with a grin that made him snort.

“Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he held the kilt up in disbelief, “I can’t wear this. Not anymore. I feel like a kid playing dress-up.”

Y/N’s grin softened. “You’re in your thirties, Priestly. Maybe a kilt isn’t the answer anymore,” she admitted, leaning against the wall of the dressing room. She looked at him thoughtfully, eyes gleaming with an idea. “But… do you trust me?”

He raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright. Go ahead, show me what you’ve got.”

Y/N set the kilt aside and walked over to a different rack, pulling out a pair of dark, well-fitted jeans and handing him a plain grey t-shirt. She added a pair of heavy black combat boots and a leather jacket to the ensemble. “Just try these,” she said, “I think you’ll be surprised.”

Priestly emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later, his expression shifting from skepticism to something closer to acceptance. He turned to her, hands stuffed in his pockets, giving her a shy, crooked grin. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh wow, not bad at all,” Y/N said, giving him a once-over feeling her cheeks burn. The jeans hugged his frame well, and the boots added a sturdy, rugged vibe. The t-shirt was simple, but it all brought back a hint of the old Priestly’s edge without trying too hard.

But she wasn’t done yet. “Alright,” she said with a wink, “one last stop.”

She drove him to a nearby barber she’d found online, and before he could protest, she leaned close, whispering her instructions into the barber’s ear.

"Oh and keep the beard." she said walking back outside. Priestly gave her a mock look of fear, but he settled into the chair, trusting her, despite his nerves.

A half hour later, Priestly emerged from the barber’s chair with his hair freshly styled. The sides were clipped short, but the top was left a little longer and tousled. No more mohawk, but it was still a look with personality—classic yet cool, modern but still a bit rebellious.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and let out a slow breath.

--

Y/N's heart hammered as she watched Priestly walk toward her, his new look transforming him into a vision of the guy she’d fallen for as a teenager—familiar but grown up, rugged and effortlessly cool. She felt her old crush flare to life, burning through her like it had all those years ago. But now, she was older, and so was he, and the spark between them didn’t feel so impossible anymore.

While he’d been getting his hair cut, she’d slipped out to pick up a few finishing touches—things that would bring back a hint of the punk style they’d once shared. As he approached, she held out a heavy, silver chain and a studded leather belt. With a grin, she hooked the chain to his jeans, her fingers brushing against him as she added the belt.

But then, she pulled out something else—a small, worn leather bracelet with faded band logos, the same one he’d given her years ago in the Beach City Grill. She held it up, a little shy but determined, and carefully slipped it back onto his wrist, fingers lingering on the familiar worn leather.

Priestly looked down, his eyes widening. “You… you kept it?” His voice was soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, feeling her cheeks heat as she looked up, meeting his gaze. “Of course I did. You were... well, it was special to me.” she said almost looking nervous.

Priestly looked at her, "How old are you now?" She still looked at him, his green eyes piercing her waiting for an answer. "I- Eh... 21." Priestly looked over her in the distance, clearly counting in his head.

They stood there in silence, the air thick while she waited for his reaction, still holding his wrist in her hands, feeling something electric. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought he must be able to hear it.

But before her nerves could make her say something stupid, Priestly reached out, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair pulling her closer.

He leaned down, his gaze searching hers for a split second, and then his lips brushed against hers, soft and warm, then deeper, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as she had. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them—two people who’d found their way back to each other after years apart.

Y/N knew that what she had been waiting for ever since she was 16 was finally here. Priestly saw her, not as a teenage girl with a crush. But as a woman.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, still holding her close. "I did say 'maybe in a few years' didn't I?"

She laughed softly, feeling her heart swell.

“Welcome back, Priestly.”

--

Taglist -> Click here to add

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal

[dirtyhends]

I never had someone i loved betray me before, cause i don't love people i just pretend to love them i have stopped myself from dying multiple times just for the hope of you, is that not beyond fucked up? i keep having dreams about you coming to apologize to me i frankly don't care about anybody else i really don't all the people we had around us al our shared friends i dont give a single fuck about them i liked them but i never really cared that much about them so i wasn't fazed with them leaving me as much as you betraying me destroyed me i don't care about what you did more than the act i feel like i am now unable to tell or share anything in fear that it will be used against me, i wonder if you know that i wrote down about you in details every time we met in my diary, and i am not even a writer but i wanted to remember those moments i also wonder if you knew how much i bragged about you to my mom and every time she would mention her best friend and her fighting i would say yeah i can't relate to that "you" would never do that to me i often wonder if i might've given myself bad eye and 7sedt rouhi i've always found excuses for you even when you made me feel small even when you were inconsiderate of my disability even when you made an instagram video about me and talked shit knowing i wouldnt know the content but little you did know that one of your so called friends pretty much captioned it for me word by word but even then i still thought maybe it's not me! thats not about me! she would never do that to me i thought that nothing could come between us, i'm not a good person not a good friend and i am aware of that but i tried my best to be one with you, it's weird even now i find myself crying wondering where did i go wrong convincing myself that i don't care about you but i do, you were my entire fucking world the only person i can be transparent with without feeling judged but now i'm aware that you were probably judging me every single time and it honestly kills me, i keep reading my diaries reading my words about when we met how clean you smelled how fun you were how beautiful and fashonably dressed you were how i felt like i could be myself around you and it drives me nuts to think i was and still feeling all this love for someone who didn't even pause to give me the benefit of doubt and i don't know how to stop feeling this way, even our other friend i didn't care about her it actually susprised me how i didn't give her a second thought or any of the other ones i guess i never held them in the same scale as you, to me what we shared was unsharable but we did share it anyway, i keep replaying every conversation every moment spent together everything you told me wondering where did i go wrong, the day you told me you attempted to kill yourself i was worried sick i started crying on facetime with my friend who lives in a whole another fucking contient just to now worry you and freak out on your face i don't feel bad about suicide or about people who feel urges to kill themselves o often struggled with feeling empathy for the suicidal because i have been feeling that way for as long as i can remember but the thought of losing you is what made me lose my mind maybe i thought about it so much that i manifested losing you in some way could that be the case? at the end i only wish i had closure it's okay i am okay with letting you go and i am okay with you not loving me the way i loved you i only wish i had closure cause i am tired of thinking but i guess we don't all get what we wish for huh? i only wish i could hate you but it's okay because i think hating you would hurt me more than whatever this is.

—

September 2023

[arcane-vagabond]

.

[whimsyfinny]

How to Avoid the Love of Your Life

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) had spent the last four years of her life avoiding him, but when her and Dean inevitably cross paths again it could go one of two ways - either really good, or really bad.

Warnings: Language, angst (so much fucking angst I'm sorry), Smut, PinV, Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Overstimulation, Dean being a sex God, reader being anxious, bad breakup, reader having a gun

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 8200 (wtf I'm sorry I got carried away)

A/N: Here it is! I'm sooooo sorry @jackles010378 that this took so long. I would've had it up last week but my kid got sick and I had to learn how to solo parent hahaha. Anyway, this is the final competition oneshot, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A voice that I knew all too well reached my ears through the crowd of people in the bar. The deep tone of his voice immediately brought goosebumps to my skin and a small smirk to my lips. I straightened where I stood besides the pool table, lowering the cue and leaning on it lazily as I turned to the direction the voice had come from.

“Dean Winchester,” I let my eyes travel over his rugged form; taking in the faint new scars on his face, his weather-beaten jacket and distinctive choice of plaid and denim. He looked virtually the same as he did when I last saw him four years ago - just older. His eyes now holding more haunting memories than any man should ever have to keep locked away in the depths of ones mind.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with the tilt of my head as he took a step closer, ignoring the bustling of people trying to get past him to order more drinks.

“You know why we’re here,” he pushed his hands into his pockets as he took another step, slowly creeping closer.

“Hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my beer and taking a sip, letting the bitter bubbles sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing them down.

“So, I take it this has nothing to do with coming for that falsely promised personal visit, and all to do with the pack of werewolves that have moved in across town?” I jabbed the beer bottle in his direction, feeling the smile on my face lose its warmth. Dean sighed and looked at his boots, and when he’d pondered on his answer, ready to verbalise it, I cut him off.

“Jody has been doing her fucking best to keep shit safe around here with the skills you taught her. The least you could do is check in a couple of times a week - visit once a month.”

“Listen sweetheart-”

“I don’t need to hear how you saved the world five hundred times this week. I don’t need to hear it second hand from other hunters. I need to hear it from you. She needs to hear that you’re ok. We all do.”

Dean looked up, his eyes meeting mine, clouded by a regretful shadow.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. Life has been so fucking messed up and sometimes I don’t even know what fucking month it is. I’ll do better. Me and Sam - we’ll be better.”

I stared at him intently, reassuring myself that he wasn’t saying ‘he’d be better’ if he didn’t mean it. He’d fed me empty lies wrapped in colourful silk in the past and I’d unwrapped every one with a hopeful heart, disappointment following every single one of them. People live and they learn, and I was no exception.

“If you’re not better, for Jodys sake - for Claire and Alex and even Donna - then I will never forgive you.” I stared at Dean long enough to feel the frustration towards him start to simmer in my veins, reminding me why I did what I did all those years ago. I was willing to endure him for my family’s sake despite hating that stupid pedestal they’d put him on - hating how in their eyes, he could do no wrong.

If only they could see him through my eyes.

The sound of long-strided footsteps and a familiar voice exclaiming “oh shit” snapped me from my festering thoughts, and I looked up to see Sam walk up and stand next to Dean.

“Sam!” I smiled, his face the picture of apprehension as he nervously smiled back.

“H-hey (Y/n), it’s been a while. I’m surprised to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked around the room incredulously before locking eyes with him again.

“Surprised to see me? Drinking in a bar, in my hometown? Where you guys know that I live? I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it.”

Sam shifted nervously, like he wanted to whisper something to his brother or simply whisk him away to a booth where they could sip beers, work a case and ogle waitresses. I sighed out a mentally exhausted breath - the presence of the Winchesters flooding my mind with memories of a better time - a simpler time. Dean was right about one thing - that life was messed up.

“Look, I’m clearly keeping you boys from your secret club meeting. I promise to behave if you do too,” I eyed them, waiting for them to accept the proposal of peace. Sam nodded, offering a few lacklustre words of poor convincing whilst Dean just stared at me, his lips twitching into a slight smirk, his eyes swimming in defiance.

“You’ve never been one to behave yourself, have you? Let's see how long this lasts.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

Sam pulled Dean away before any more weaponised words could be fired, Deans lips forever holding that slap-worthy grin as he eventually turned his back and headed to the other side of the bar.

For the whole evening I could feel eyes on my back and a prickle on my skin. No matter what I did or how much I tried to distract myself - I was so hyper-aware that the Winchesters were sitting at a table just across the room. Every time I turned my back or walked to the bar, I could feel myself scrutinised under an unwanted observation. As I politely turned down the offer of a drink from a handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I reached to answer it, my palms growing sweaty when I saw the name flash on the screen.

“Hey Jody,” I fought to keep my voice steady, my previous frustrations starting to bubble to the surface again.

“Hey (Y/n)! You’re never going to guess who’s in town!”

My teeth immediately clenched and I shot a glare over to where the brothers were sitting, watching Dean tuck his phone back into his pocket and drop his head into his hands.

When I failed to utter a single word at Jody’s excited proclamation, she instantly caught on.

“Oh shit, you know already, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I feel like I spoke at him, which counts I guess.”

Despite knowing my inner conflictions, she chuckled slightly.

“You give him a piece of your mind?”

“Yup,” I sighed, running a hand over my face, “I think I’m going to have to keep my distance from him, Jody. Just seeing him - looking at him after all these years - it hurts. It fucking hurts and he doesn’t realise how much he messed me up with everything that he did and said,” I could feel that all too familiar burn in my eyes as I fought desperately against the tears; biting my lip to stop it from trembling. When I gave my emotions away with a not-so-discrete sniff, Jody’s more sympathetic side emerged.

“Aw sweet girl, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to come and get you?”

I shook my head despite knowing she couldn’t see me and wiped away a rogue tear.

“No it’s ok, I think I just need to be alone. Plus I know you - you want to spend some time and catch up with them, which is fine and I get it. It’s just not something I can be there for right now,” I lifted my head and looked through the crowd of people, watching how Sam talked to Dean and Dean fiddled with his beer bottle again. I looked down before he could see me, though I knew he would be able to pick me out of any crowd anywhere within a matter of minutes. I hated that he knew me so well.

“If you’re sure, you know where we are if you need anything.”

“I know, thanks Jody. And… I’m sorry for making this so complicated for you. I know you have no reason to hate him, and I don’t like putting you in the middle like this.”

“(Y/n) I get it sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for. Just…” she paused, as though debating if her words were worth saying.

“Just what?”

“Just don't do anything stupid,” I could hear the slight amusement in her voice despite her words of caution. I chuckled slightly, wiping away another tear.

“You know me - I can’t make that promise. Bye Jody, see you later.”

After the farewell I hung up the phone, deciding some fresh air would help me to cool my head.

I'd barely taken five steps out the bars entrance and into the parking lot when the harsh sound of rowdy chatter drew my attention. Snapping my head towards it, cold blood filled my veins at the sight in the shadows - the gut wrenching sight of a small group of men huddling together and attempting to steal a car.

To steal Baby.

The cold sensation of dread quickly transformed into the heat of fury as my blood started to boil at the sheer audacity of the thieving group, now doing their best to stay out of the glow of the street lamp. They were lucky it was me that had found them and not Dean, as the latter would have dropped every single one of them by now and not left a soul breathing. I know Dean and I no longer had any sort of relationship, but when we did, this car had been witness to every moment. Baby saw every smile, laugh, and happy tear shared between Dean and I, along with petty lovers quarrels and raw moments of lust filled passion. I'd lost count of how many times we'd steamed up those back windows since we were teenagers and Dean stole the car from his old man for our first date. Then there were the long rides from case to case - Sam and I arguing over who rode shotgun - with Metallica blasting from the speakers, windows rolled down and the wind wisping every worry away as we belted our lungs out. Those were the best moments of my life. In that car. And I'd be damned if I let some dive bar fuckheads steal her.

With zero hesitation I pulled out the gun tucked into my boot and fired three warning shots to the sky before aiming my piece at them, wary that they might also be packing.

“Get away from the FUCKING car - NOW!”

The anger in my voice was a deadly warning as the group turned to me like rabbits in the headlights before turning tail and bolting - one of them dropping a hefty crowbar in the process. As I lowered my gun when they fled, I turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps thumping on the gravel behind me.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean had arrived at my side before Sam and he reached to rest a hand on the small of my back; guided by muscle memory. I turned to face him, a small crowd gathering outside the bar to witness the fleeting commotion. As Sam arrived I explained, my voice harbouring a slight tremble of adrenaline and frustration.

“Some assholes tried to steal Baby-”

“WHAT?!” Deans voice filled with horror, yet his hand remained on my back.

“But you- you're ok right? They didn't hurt you?”

“What? No, I'm fine.”

With my confirmation he withdrew his hand and doubled over, resting his palms on his knees and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ugh thank fuck - you scared the shit out of me.”

Sam, who appeared shortly after Dean, patted him on the back and flashed me a split-second grin, the glint lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I don't think I've seen Dean move so fast - like… ever.”

I couldn't stop the soft, airy laugh leaving my lungs, a memory flooding my mind.

“I think the fastest I ever saw him move was when we used to hunt with your dad, and Dean took the car without permission. John ended up stranded at that god-awful motel for six hours after we accidentally fell asleep in the layby-”

“Oh god, was that the motel with those raccoons?” Dean stood up straight, the memory seeming to light up his face as he looked me straight in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Yes - oh my GOD those raccoons were awful,” I started to chuckle and I could tell Dean was holding it in.

“Raccoons?” Sam asked, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. I opened my mouth to explain but Dean beat me to it.

“In every corner of each room there was a taxidermy raccoon, however the person who taxidermied them obviously had no idea what an actual raccoon looked like.”

“Most of them had eyes that were too close together and their bodies were way too long - like some sort of ferret-raccoon hybrid,” I chimed in, the memory bringing warmth to my chest at the comical idiocy of it all.

“I remember dad turned his so they faced the wall and away from the bed,” Dean let out a small laugh, managing to pull one from Sam as well as we slowly made our way over to the car, my gun returned to the holster in my boot.

“I'm pretty sure that was the first and last thing that ever gave John Winchester genuine heebie jeebies,” I looked up at Sam's disbelieving expression.

“And your brother hid his in the bottom of the closet.”

Dean grimaced before chuckling again.

“They had tiny little ferret-raccoon buttcheeks.”

“Oh god yeah, they were so prominent.”

“So prominent.”

Stepping up to Baby, Dean gave her a thorough once over, running his large hands gently over the places most likely to have laid victim to the crowbar. After three laps and continuous scrutiny, he deemed her unharmed.

We stood together for a moment in silence, the conversation having bled out, leaving nothing but our prior heavy tension and my own dwelling sorrow. I looked up at them both, my gaze lingering on Dean.

“Look, I need to go. I can't- I can't be around you right now, Dean. I'm glad Baby is ok and I…” I sucked in a breath, steadying my voice, “I wish you all the best. Both of you. Stay safe out there.” with my final words I spun on my heel and left.

The motel room was pitch black save for the small box TV flickering in the corner, the original Ghostbusters playing through blown out speakers. I sat in the middle of the couch rocking baggy plaid pj pants and an old band t-shirt (likely Deans, much to my own dismay). With criss-crossed legs and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, I attempted to wallow, Rory Gilmore style, over a man who I would never fully get over. Mine and Deans relationship had ended years ago, yet here I was, the wound still as fresh as the day it was inflicted. Most days I get by, and sometimes even forget the pain he caused me, allowing me to feel light and almost normal. But seeing him in the flesh, catching the scent of him and hearing his voice had turned my defences to ash. I felt exposed and raw, my heart practically on a silver platter ready for another round of being ripped to pieces. I thought I would be able to handle it if I ran into him. I knew deep down in my gut that it would happen eventually, that it was unavoidable given my living arrangements. That he would likely come and visit Jody and the others, and I would have to pretend that everything was ok - that my heart wasn't still breaking over him. I'd avoided him for this long, always able to find the perfect excuse to not be around when he showed up. It was about time the avoidance streak ran it out.

The sound of his laugh earlier this evening had tightened every muscle in my chest, reminding me of every blissful moment we'd spent together - obsessed with each others company and craving nothing else on this fucked up Earth. His smile had made me want to weep, knowing I no longer got to wake up to it every morning or let it be the last thing I witnessed before sleep. The smile that got us both into so much trouble, both as teenagers and adults alike. The smile that always made arguments feel absurd half way through. No matter who I encounter in life or how many people God throws at me in an attempt to fill the void left behind by Dean, it's an incurable hole in my soul that can never be healed.

I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth as I watched the movie unfold - desperate for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to reach through the screen and devour me along with my melancholy attitude. Too preoccupied with the film and the strange attraction I seemed to be harbouring to men in boiler suits, I almost missed the low rumble of an engine pull into the motel parking lot outside my room. An all too familiar engine. My ears pricked before reality dawned, the blood draining from my face.

“That son of a bitch.”

I scrambled off the couch and ducked behind it, popcorn flying, knowing all too well that he'd come peering in through the gaps in the blind - which my dumbass had left open so I could watch the rain. Heavy rain and self pity went together like jack and coke after all.

There were a few breaths of silence after the squeak and slam of the impala door, and I thought maybe I'd gotten away with it. Perhaps he was staying in a room further down? Fate was forever against me though when there was a loud knock on the door. I flinched, anxiety dampening my palms as I tucked my knees into my chest and held my breath, praying to Chuck himself that Dean would leave. That he'd convince himself that he was making a reckless decision by being here, or that he had the wrong room. I almost jumped out of my skin when he rapped on the window and his voice boomed through the pattering of rain and static-y TV audio.

“I know you're in there (Y/n), now open the door.”

Even if I'd wanted to move, the ability to do so had fled my body, my muscles petrified at the thought of confronting him. I jumped again when he hammered on the door this time, the cheap wood rattling on its hinges.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)! Your truck is parked outside and I can see your hunting gear on the table. Open the fucking door!”

“Go away!”

“Not until you let me speak to you!”

“No!”

There was a loud THUD as his boot collided with the door and I heard him growl in frustration. I could just picture him pacing in a circle, running a hand through his hair.

“(Y/n)-”

“Please, Dean, just… just don't. I can't look at you.” I felt my voice shrink as I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, unsure if he caught my words. He did.

“What- why not?” His voice was a wretched mix of desperation and confusion, cracking between words.

I was quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang thick in the air before I pushed myself to my feet, instantly missing the comfort of the upright foetal position. I wandered over to the door, my fuzzy-socked feet padding on the thread-bare carpet.

“Because,” I leant against the wood, my heart aching at the thought of him being so close yet so devastatingly untouchable, “if I open this door I'm going to undo all the progress I've made with getting over you, Dean.” His name was bittersweet as it slid off my tongue. The quiet sound of Dean sucking in a breath hissed through the gaps in the wood.

“Please, sweetheart. I need you to open this door.”

The softer tone of his voice made him infinitely harder to resist, but I had to stand my ground.

“Dean, you know I can't,” my eyes burned as the tears started to well, my voice objecting to my words with a pitiful rasp.

“Yes you can,” he paused, “you have to, otherwise I'm going to kick this piece of shit down.”

My eyes flew wide.

“No-no Dean-”

“Stand back.”

“Don't!”

“Three…”

“Stop-”

“Two…”

“Dean-”

“One-”

“Fine!”

I grasped the handle and flung the door open, my heart dancing with my stomach when I finally caught sight of him. There he was, soaked through from the rain and giving me that woeful Mr Darcy stare. The water droplets clung to his lashes and trickled down his cheeks, the breathtaking beauty of him erasing the pre-prepared sentence from my mind. Now, all I could think at that moment was to get him warm and dry. The noose around my heart tightened when I reached a hand out to grasp his, pulling him in out of the downpour. As the door closed behind him there was a pause, my quickly dissolving self restraint making it agonising to be in his presence. And Dean seemed to know that, yet he remained.

“(Y/n)-”

“Don’t,” as the cold water started to pool around his boots, I paced over to the bathroom, quickly emerging with a fuzzy towel in hand. I passed it over to him slowly, treating him like a wild, unpredictable animal that could pounce at any moment. He took it gently from my grasp, his fingers softly brushing mine. His skin was cold and damp from the outdoors. We stood in silence for a few moments whilst Dean dried his hair as best as he could, shortly after shrugging off his jacket to hang on the dining chair beside him. As he continued to ruffle his hair dry, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why are you here, Dean? What do you want?”

He lowered the towel and hung it with his jacket, sighing from the pit of his stomach.

“Me and Sam went to see Jody and the others. I was hoping to run into you again - I wanted to talk to you. But when you didn’t appear, Jody said you’d checked out for a few nights - said you wanted to be away from the house when… uh…” his voice faltered and something akin to guilt flashed in his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence he leant on the table, staring intently at the pile of hunting gear I'd dumped there.

“When you arrived,” I finished it for him, “Yeah, that’s right. And I told  her not to tell you where I was.”

“She didn’t,” he stood up straight again, holding his hands up, “I knew you wouldn’t have gone far, so I drove around until I spotted your truck,” he admitted, gaze flitting down to the floor. More silence followed, the atmosphere thickening as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean,” my voice was small as my anxiety spiked again, the question ready to spill from my mouth though no matter what he said, I knew I wasn’t ready for the answer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me? You say you want to talk, but you’re the one who ended everything. You ended our decades-long relationship out of fucking nowhere. What could there possibly be to talk about anymore. It’s been four years.” My voice trembled and he clenched his teeth, looking away from me before setting his eyes back to the floor. He dragged his gaze back up to mine, and something burned deep in those evergreen irises that took my breath away. Yet he remained silent.

“You crushed me when out of nowhere you said we were over - that we had no future. That you couldn't imagine growing old with me, like we'd always talked about. You have no idea how much you broke my fucking heart, and then you just expected me to live alongside you in the bunker like nothing was wrong? In my own room, far away from you? Why did you think that I would be ok with that?” I felt the familiar drip of hot tears and they flooded down my cheeks and rolled off my chin, the dam I’d fought so hard to contain now bursting wide with vengeance.

“You think I wanted you to leave?” Dean spoke up finally, his voice deep and gravelly, like it always was when he was upset. “You don’t think that telling you that everything was over wasn’t the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do? That I was happy watching you pack your bags and walk out without so much as a goodbye?”

“You didn’t love me, Dean, so why would you have cared? You obviously didn’t love me the way that I loved you.”

He flinched, but took a step closer. 

“You think this is because I stopped loving you? (Y/n)... it wasn’t safe- you weren’t safe in the bunker. You weren’t safe with me…” his expression turned to one of pain as his brows pinched and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath. “I thought maybe if you just stayed in the bunker with little to no association with me, then it would be ok. I mean, I'd still get to see you, talk to you. Be in your fucking presence. I never expected you to- to…” he took another deep breath, his lungs almost stuttering. “I didn’t think you would leave.”

He never took his eyes off mine. I saw the years of hurt and heartbreak intertwine with glimmers of green and gold, the emotions I always knew he’d struggled to cope with were swimming in a pool of desperation and fear. On the outside, Dean Winchester was the strongest there was. He was an undefeated and undisputed leader of men. He was the King of hunters. The Alpha. The man who could make you wish you were dead. Yet here he was, wearing every vulnerable emotion on his sleeve as he stood before me with anxious breaths and fearful eyes. The sight made my heart break all over again.

“Dean,” his name was like a quiet prayer as he moved closer again, “I don’t think you understand…”

“Understand what, sweetheart?” the rasp in his voice pebbled goosebumps on my skin, and when he reached for a lock of my hair to twirl around his finger, I had to fight off every instinct to just throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent floated through the air and wrapped itself around my senses, and when I breathed him in the aroma of old leather and gunpowder went straight to my brain like a hit of cocaine. The pleasant hum from my chest was involuntary. 

“I don’t think you understand that… that…” I sighed a woeful breath, looking up at him and seeing nothing but a warm, expectant gaze.

“That I’m still in love with you.”

The finger Dean had looped around my hair froze in place and I heard him suck in a breath, his lips parting. He remained unmoving, as though every thought racing through his mind had taken precedence over his body. It was a moment before he blinked, coming back down to Earth. When he looked down at me, all of the desperation, hurt and heartbreak dissipated from his eyes and in their place was the blazing heat of hope, accentuated by a small upturned twitch of his lips.

“You do?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Before I could react Dean had scooped me into his arms and crashed his mouth onto mine. The urge to push him away and tell him to get the fuck out bubbled up inside me, however when his familiar taste graced my tongue, a taste that was home, every desire for him to leave evaporated. The years of being apart, of being unable to touch him had made every caress electric, no matter how feather-light. My hands had tangled in his shirt as he pressed his mouth harder onto mine, pulling him crushingly close. His embrace was almost suffocating before he gently slid his hands up and threaded his rough fingers through my hair, and I lifted my own hands to do the same. I took my time with the motion, reminding myself of what he felt like - not that the memory of him ever truly left. I remembered how the muscles across his stomach and chest felt hard beneath a soft layer of skin. I remembered the way they quivered at my touch, and how my touch always pulled soft moans from his lips. My hands crept up to take hold of his face, the familiar feeling of his rough stubble beneath my fingertips ever present, a reminder of how that rough stubble felt when it tauntingly brushed against other parts of my body. I cupped his cheeks, feeling my own tears dampen his skin. He kissed me in a way that said I’m sorry, a kiss that held four years of pent up emotions with a desire to be released. A kiss that I knew was designed specifically for me. Our breaths and lips became frantic, the pace in which we were now devouring each other was still not enough to soothe the wounds in our hearts that were so desperate to be healed. Dean pulled away and held my face in his hands, running his rough thumbs over the soft skin under my eyes to wipe away the tears.

“I miss you, so fucking much,” his voice was low, his words for my ears only - not that anyone else was listening.

“I miss you too,” I sniffled, resting my palms on his chest again and relishing in the heat seeping through his shirt.

He leant down and rested his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. The atmosphere shifted however when he dipped down lower and pressed a hot kiss to my cheek, then to my ear, and then to my neck - each press of his lips drawing a shiver from my spine. I gasped when he nibbled my pulse point gently and my hands flew to grasp the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, my nails dragging over his scalp. He groaned against me at the sensation, one large hand moving to grip my hair at its roots whilst the other slid to my hip - squeezing the soft flesh. A moan of his name slipped past my lips and it was like a switch was flipped as he pulled away suddenly. He turned to take a few steps across the room, attempting to put some distance between us. I stood, baffled for a moment, but when he turned back to me and his vibrant eyes were now black with lust, I almost knew what he was going to say.

“Do you really want to go there sweetheart? Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” he started making slow strides back towards me and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. 

“Yes,” my voice was more breathy than I’d anticipated.

“No regrets?” he was almost within reach again.

“No regrets.”

When his hands landed on my waist again, his frenzied kisses on my lips, I was expecting to be able to ravage him equally; but when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing I let out a shocked yelp. 

“Dean!”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest as he strode over to the bed and threw me down, the impact on the mattress knocking a breath out of me.

“I’ve not been able to fuck you sensless for four years, there ain’t no way I’m going easy on you tonight sweetheart.” I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he tore his top from his body. I barely got a glimpse of his rugged physique that I’d so terribly missed before he all but pounced, trapping me beneath him. My hands immediately clung to the tight muscles of his back, my nails digging in and drawing a hiss from his clenched teeth before his mouth pressed to my neck right below my ear.

“Do you remember how you used to scream my name?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to make you scream much, much, louder than you ever have before. I’m going to make all past encounters feel like a warm up compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.” I shivered at his words as his hot breath fanned over my skin. His hands were fast, desperately tugging on my pyjama pants to slip one inside the soft fabric, not bothering to remove them entirely. There was an urgency to his movements like nothing I’d ever seen, the air leaving my lungs on a gasping moan when his fingers grazed my underwear. He chuckled slightly, pressing a series of searing kisses down my neck to my collar bone. 

“Well, aren't you sensitive? How long has it been, darlin’? Since someone else touched you - since someone else made you cum?” The heat rose to my already flushing cheeks at his words and I tried to cover my face with the back of my hand. My attempts to hide were futile as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pinned my arm above my head. 

“Well?” he pressed, a smirk on his lips.

“Four years,” I all but squeaked. He thought for a moment before his smirk evolved into a widespread grin. “Don't let it go to your head, Winchester,” I did my best to bite out my words yet my voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. My head rolled into the quilt and my back arched when he pushed his finger against my clit through my underwear a second time, this time harder, more purposeful. His own breath was shuddering as he continued to plant hot kisses against my skin, the slight dampness from his lips cooling quickly when he pulled back to sit on his knees. My heart didn't know if it wanted to stop dead in my chest or palpitate itself into oblivion when he looked down at me. Dean eminated a dark, primal hunger, glazing his eyes with lust as he gnawed his bottom lip. There wasn't a part of me that he hadn't seen before, and despite my current lack of nakedness it was as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. He made a noise in his chest that seemed to roll up his throat, like a growl of approval as I lay like prey beneath him. Dean may be older now, but he was bigger. Broader. Larger. The years of saving the world and fighting every abomination in his path had forced him to bulk up most exquisitely. With my free hand I traced over the scars adorning his shoulders, chest and abdomen: some old and silver, some newer and pink. There were even a fresh few, still scabbed over, and he shivered at every gentle touch. His gaze, however, was unrelenting. Without uttering a word he yanked my pyjama bottoms from my legs and tossed them into the depths of the room, immediately doing the same with my underwear. Instinctively I attempted to pull my knees together despite him being planted between them and he laughed softly, dragging his dark eyes over my slightly squirming body. He clutched my hand that was touching his chest and pinned it with my other one above my head, leaning down to lift the hem of my t-shirt, to gather above my breasts with his teeth. A shiver tore through me as his hot breath dusted the soft skin of my stomach and ribs, perking my nipples instantly.

“I think your body missed me sweetheart.”

“Definitely not just my body,” I panted. He breathed over my lips for a moment, every possibility of tonight's endeavours flashing before his eyes before he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth moved slightly slower this time, like he was desperately trying to control the beast inside and make every moment count. To make every moment memorable.

“Do you remember Oasis Plains, Oklahoma? With that fancy house we borrowed?” His voice dropped an octave, eyes hooded as he recalled the memory.

“Yes,” I practically clenched, remembering the late night escapades from all those years ago. In my mind it was like yesterday - the way his lips felt on my skin, how his strong fingers bruised my thighs, and how he brought me to total completion no less than three times. His lips twitched up as he slid down my body and off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor. He roughly gripped my thighs and threw them over his shoulders before slowly, tantalisingly sliding his hands up the supple flesh to grasp my ass and pull my whole body towards him.

“I’m gonna make you lose your fucking mind, just like you did back then. Maybe I'll even beat that record.”

My eyes could've disappeared inside my skull with how far they rolled back, his mouth's quick descent over my most intimate area - a soft kiss placed just above my clit - had me gasping in anticipation. Without a second to gather my thoughts he pressed his next kiss to that bundle of nerves; the wet heat of his mouth sending a pulse after pulse of fire through my veins as I twitched at his touch. He was an expert. Every flick of his tongue was practised and calculated, knowing which way to swirl, to caress, and how much pressure to apply. It was only a matter of minutes before my hands plunged into his hair and I grasped desperately at the soft strands, feeling that tidal wave build, and build, and build before he daringly grazed his teeth over my clit and it sent the wave crashing down around me, my body arching off the soft mattress as I came undone in his arms at the mercy of his mouth. 

“F-FUCK- Dean-”

My limbs twitched as they relaxed on the come-down, Deans tongue softly tracing up and down my opening. Without pulling away, he spoke in a husky tone:

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how many times I've reminisced about you moaning my name like that.”

The breath from his words made me shiver, and I moved to prop myself up on my elbows. 

“Ready for round two?” His voice remained low, not waiting for my inevitable confirmation before slowly dipping a finger into my still-clenching walls. The moan that slipped past my lips pulled a groan from Dean, a second finger joining the first as they curled up to push against the soft cushion hidden in the depths of my core. He knew where to find it with zero hesitation - his fingers seemingly acting on muscle memory as he beckoned another orgasm from me. He coaxed it forward, my inner nerves dangerously sensitive as the pleasure began to pool for a second time. With every motion of his finger, again and again, I started to feel the coil twist. I was in two minds on whether to be mortified by how easily he could pull a climax from my very soul, or impressed by it. Either way, he had me teetering on the edge a second time before a single flick of his tongue snapped the coil and euphoria claimed me once more.

His name merged with the endless moans spilling from my mouth, my hazy brain struggling to differentiate the two.

“Shit, you taste so good baby. I could devour you all night.”

“I wouldn't stop you.”

He grinned.

“As much as I would love to indulge you, I need to fuck you. Now.”

He pushed on the backs of my thighs, urging me to centre myself on the bed before he climbed back over me. I could feel myself salivating at the sight of his broad shoulders flexing under his weight, his skin damp with sweat from being trapped beneath my thighs.

He leant down to capture my mouth again, a kiss fueled with raw, carnal desire as he struggled to hold himself back. He shuddered under my fingertips as I trailed them down his torso to his belt, hastily unfastening the buckle and top button of his jeans. It was a joint effort to push them off his hips and down his thighs, but that's as far as they went. The feral need to be inside me had consumed him, and I'd barely withdrawn my hands from between us when he lined up and buried himself to the hilt. 

The burn and stretch was immediate - knocking the air from my lungs as I clutched his solid biceps like a lifeline, my nails indenting his scarred skin. He had the common decency to stay still for around ten seconds before his self restraint diminished yet again and he withdrew slowly. I could feel the divine ridges on his length through the immense build up of my slick and his spit, and as he eased back in he dropped his head into the crook of my neck with a gasp and a groan. A large, rough palm glided down my thigh, goosebumps in its wake as he grasped beneath my knee to rest my leg on his hip. Another moan filled the air between us at the new angle, the top of his cock kissing the soft, sensitive cushion inside. His mouth was hot on my neck as his hips found a rhythm against mine - a rhythm that gradually increased in speed with the intense pleasure unrelenting on my over-sensitive insides. My next impending climax swiftly appearing on the horizon.

“Dean,” I pleaded, my eyes cracking open to look up at him through welling tears, “I'm getting close again-”

He lifted his head, that play-boy grin finding his lips as he saw the mess I'd become at his touch; the mascara-stained tear tracks smudging on my cheeks and the unruly sex-hair was always a good sign of a good time.

“I need you to let go sweetheart - cum for me. Please…”

His words were the cherry on the cake for my undoing yet again and I felt my whole body explode with pleasure and tense up around him. The third orgasm of the night had my vision blurring when he cursed under his breath at my contracting walls, yet he didn't let up. He fucked me through the mind blowing bliss, not letting me catch my breath as a fourth climax hit me out of nowhere, the torturous attack on my g-spot making me feel close to blacking out.

“F-FUCK- Dean- Please- I can't,” my voice was hoarse from the moans and ragged breaths ripping from my throat every other second and my whole body trembled, slick with sweat from both myself and Dean. Despite the death grip I had on Deans cock, every involuntary clench making my knees twitch, he still wasn't finished. His powerful thrusts stuttered slightly before he pulled out, causing me to suck a breath through my teeth. Before I had a chance to query his actions he flipped me with ease, landing me flat on my stomach, my face buried in the soft quilt. Much like before, he didn't wait for an invitation to push back in, the overstimulated nerves in my core sending a jolt through every aching muscle in my body. The deeper angle pulled a cry from my lips when he bottomed out, and if I didn't know any better I would've said that his cock was in my ribcage. Deans large, warm hands took up residence on the supply flesh around my hips, tugging them up so my ass was in the air.

“Shit, (Y/n), with a view like this I'm not gonna last much longer- fuck,” Deans words were strained as he picked up the pace again, albeit this time there was an urgency to his movements. A desperate desire to experience the same Earth shattering euphoria that he had hand delivered to me. With my face in the fabric I snuck a hand down between my legs, finding the pleasure of circling my clit both a relief and an amplifier for the scorching pleasure Dean was inflicting. It didn't take long for him to tear my hand away, only to replace it with his own - pulling noises from my lips that were a whole new calibre of erotic that I didn't know I was capable of. My moans had an effect on Dean, and the hand that was on my hip, that was kneading my soft skin with a bruising grip had shot forwards and planted beside my head, bracing his weight above me. I couldn't see him but I could feel his solid chest against my back, his head dipping down to place rough kisses against my shoulder, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there. I prepared myself for the bruises I'd find on my body in the morning - his firm hold on me would have been almost painful given any other situation. That's not to forget the biting and sucking he was now subjecting my neck and shoulder blades to - the sensation setting my skin ablaze. Deans strained breaths were a tell for his own impending end, with his hips losing their strong rhythm as he panted out laboriously. The sound of him on the verge of bliss, accompanied by every other agonising ministration performed on my body had me unravelling one last time; one hand fisting the sheets whilst the other reached back, my nails brushing over Deans scalp and toying with his short, soft hair. The fluttering of my channel around his cock was all it took to bring him to his long awaited fervid finish. I trembled beneath him as he groaned into my ear, the sound something primal, something almost unhinged. We remained still for a moment, waiting for the post climax clarity to come along and make us regret our decision. He pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from both of us at the loss of warmth and intimate contact. The simultaneous feeling of emptiness and relief was an odd feeling, as I know full well he’d ruined me for anyone else - no one in Heaven or Hell could compete with that. Not that I wanted them to in the first place. Every nerve ending in my lower region fizzled with overstimulation, yet I couldn't have felt more relaxed; more satiated. For the first time in a very, very, long time, I felt complete. 

Dean grabbed the towel he'd left on the back of the chair and used it to catch the evidence of our intimacy, the wetness cooling quickly on my thighs as I pushed myself to sit on my knees. I turned and looked up at him, watching as he stood beside the bed, eyeing me nervously. I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.

“What's wrong? Regretting the whole ‘No Regrets’ thing already?” 

He shook his head.

“Do you?” His voice held a crackle that equaled his nervous expression.

I shook my head. He looked down at his clothes on the floor.

“No, although I'm getting the impression from you that this was a one time thing,” he must've heard the disappointment when I spoke, his eyes flying up to meet mine.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you're picking your shit off the floor like you're about to leave, that's why.”

“You…want me to stay? I thought-”

“Did I fucking stutter when I said I still love you, Dean? Because I do, and it's all-consuming and to be totally honest, I never want to leave your side again.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks at my sudden proclamation. Deans grip on his clothes slackened, letting it all fall back to the floor. From the look on his face it was like I'd just declared him King of the world; like a light switched on behind his eyes and a smile threatened to spread across his face.

“Yeah?” 

I fiddle with my fingers in my lap, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Yeah-whoa!”

I didn't get the chance to feel bashful or embarrassed when Dean tackled me onto the bed. At first he peppered my still-damp skin with small kisses that tickled with his stubble, before placing his mouth over mine. I couldn't recall a time that he'd kissed me so softly, and accompanied by the gentle embrace of his arms with his fingers carefully threading through my hair, it was enough to bring me to tears.

“I've missed you so much,” my sniffles brought an almost relieved smile to his features as he pulled back and stroked my hair with overwhelming tenderness.

“I've missed you too, sweetheart.

So fucking much.”

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

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[pupkashi]

cherry blossoms

satoru doesn’t wanna leave you for the japan grand prix, so he flies you out to join him

a/n: hi hi !! here is part two to my f1 au !! this has taken me so long to write i hope you guys like please please please let me know what you think !!! i know the japan gp was so long ago i fell behind in sorry </3 ; lets just act like the plane rides and time zone shifts make sense thank u <3

wordcount - 7,158

part 1 // main masterlist

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO !

“so you’re going to japan in a couple days then?” you ask, sitting across from the white haired f1 driver, watching as he nods softly, taking one last bite from his steak.

“yeah, it’s my home race so I’m hoping it goes well” he smiles, it was obvious he was nervous for the race. you smile softly at him, “you’ll do great.”

it was like a bubble had engulfed the two of you after you first met, the chaos of the world and academia seemed to settle for the two weeks he had been in town.

“what do you have going on?” he asks you, hooked on what you’d reply with as the gears in his head turned.

“just classes, finally don’t have an exam this week” you cheer, looking up and seeing an unfamiliar look on satoru’s face.

“why don’t you come with me?” he asks, cerulean eyes gleaming at you. satoru is taken back when you laugh softly taking a casual sip from your water when your eyes land on his, stomach dropping when you realize he was serious.

“you’re serious? i can’t ditch classes for a week satoru” you laugh nervously, “i can’t even afford a plane ticket to Japan let alone a hotel and everything that comes with travel” you reason shaking your head.

“I’d pay for everything, don’t be stupid” he says quickly, “cmon just for the weekend then? you skip your Friday lecture all the time anyway what’s one more?”

you think for a second, biting your bottom lip and realizing you’ve only known this guy for the better half of a month. do things always move this quickly in relationships? you cant speak from experience, but before you think too long satoru is reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

“it’s cherry blossom season and I’d want nothing more than to take you on a picnic under the beautiful trees” his cheeks are akin to those of the trees he mentioned and makes your stomach leap. “cmon you said it was on your bucket list didn’t you?”

you could feel your heart skip a beat, your face must’ve given away your surprise as he grins back at you. he remembered something you’d mentioned in passing? god he was making this harder than it should be.

when else would you get an expenses paid trip to japan and an f1 Grand Prix?

“i need to think about it” you say, his ears perk up and there’s a wide smile on his face that brings his dimples out.

“that’s not a no” he grins, you smile at him shaking your head.

“that’s not a yes either” you correct, squeezing his hand before letting go and finishing off your food.

he doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the night, instead appreciating every moment the two of you spend together, away from public eyes. satoru squeezes your hand a bit tighter, the sky a colorful painting of reds and oranges, a hue of pink blanketing the world around the two of you.

you sat in lecture on monday morning, only half paying attention to what your professor was talking about, messy notes on your tablet as your mind wandered.

what are the odds you miss something important on friday? satoru was right, you were already planning on skipping. satoru, you think, snowy hair and lashes to match, captivating blue eyes; what are the odds you come across him again?

who are you to fight against fate?

‘how much should i pack ? i am a chronic overpacker’ you type out, thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button before taking the leap and tapping it.

youre quick to put your phone on do not disturb and place it back in your pocket, figuring if you’re gonna miss lecture Friday you might as well take better notes now.

satoru was only half paying attention to what his manger was saying over the zoom call, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he listened. his phone lit up with your text, a wide smile immediately making its way onto his face as he grabbed it, reading your message.

“satoru are you paying attention?” his manager asks, slightly annoyed at the driver.

“media when we land, FIA wants me at the conference, tiktoks with george, a couple pre race interviews-” satoru continues to list off everything he’d been told perfectly, all while typing out a reply to you.

“oh could you book me a flight and an extra hotel room? I’m bringing someone this weekend” satoru grins, excited as his assistant nods yes.

satoru cheers, a bright smile into his camera as he waves goodbye to everyone and logs off the team call, finally settling on what to reply to you with.

‘pack as much as you want, I paid for a check in’

he can’t help but giggle, standing up from the table and flopping onto the hotel bed. satoru thought the image of the crushing schoolgirl was always an exaggeration, but the smile on his face and the swinging of his feet made him realize it was 100% true- and he was but a schoolgirl with a crush.

‘you already got me a flight?’

‘duh, wasn’t gonna risk you saying yes and me being unprepared :P’

you were trying your hardest to not smile, biting your lip and focusing on the music in your headphones. the suns rays beating down on you as you walked onto your bus, sitting near the back in case you did end up giggling at a message. (you failed miserably at hiding a smile.)

‘when does your flight leave?’

‘in an hour ish i think’

‘im headed to the airport now actually’

the two of you text the entirety of your bus ride and well after you get home. your phone rang after you’d set it down to focus on your work, satoru’s contact name flashing on the screen as you picked up the phone.

“hello?” you answered, a nervous laugh leaving your lips.

“hey! figured this is easier than texting so that you can do your work and stuff while we talk” satoru had a giant smile on his face, eyes looking out the window of the plane as he talked to you, “is that okay?” nervously bringing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“that’s perfect actually” you chuckle, “how was the airport?”

it didn’t feel like much time had passed since you answered the call, but as you looked out the window and how much work you’d gotten done you realized it been well over four hours. your eyes widened as you checked your phone as saw the length of the call

4:47:56

“oh my god it’s been almost five hours” you laugh, closing your laptop and putting it to charge. “unlike you i don’t have a flight attendant to give me food so” you trail off, realizing you’d forgotten to take out meat to thaw for dinner, takeout it is.

“alright alright, I’ll let you get back to life without me” satoru sighs dramatically, “have fun in the slow lane” he teases.

“oh please you’ll see me on friday” you laugh, “and i do not drive in the slow lane! you’re just used to going too fast in cars” you mumble, thankful he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face and the way you were playing with your hair.

the call went on for a bit longer, there was a pregnant pause between the two of you.

“I can’t wait to see you friday” satoru breathed out, staring at his lap before back out the plane window. everyone else on the small plane had fallen asleep already, trying to get a jump on the time zone shift. he should’ve been asleep hours ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up on you.

“i can’t wait either, my second ever formula one race” you tease, “oh and you’ll be there too!” satoru rolls his eyes at you, smiling.

“haha very funny” his sarcastinf tone makes you grin.

“okay i seriously have to go now, let me know when you land?” you’re not sure of your words, it’s not like you were dating the guy.

“course i will, have a goodnight y/n” he says softly.

“goodnight satoru” you reply, a small smile on your face before hanging up. you’re stuck dumbfounded for a second, laughing before shaking your head, trying to get back to reality and not think about the tall, blue eyed man every moment possible.

lectures always seemed to drag on forever, but this week? eternal. especially on your final thursday lecture. had time always gone this slowly in class? your professors words were not the least bit interesting today, not compared to the thought of getting on a flight to japan for a Motorsport event.

not compared to hanging out with satoru again.

your fingers itched to text satoru, he’d been busy since he landed, with scarce texts sent your way. you didn’t want to seem too clingy, the thought of it scaring him away held you back from double texting him. he’d text you when he could, right?

finally lecture came to an end, you couldn’t help but breath a small sigh of relief as you packed your thing into you backpack and shuffled out with the rest of the class.

as if on cue your phone began to vibrate.

satoru

“hey” you smiled, pressing the phone closer to your ear as you tried to get out of the crowded hallway, going down the stairs and exiting out the side of the building.

“hey! is this a good time?” he asked, fiddling with the hotel duvet, the tv on as background noise.

“yeah i actually just got out of class- isn’t it night time over there?” you interrupt yourself, “shouldn’t you be getting eight hours of sleep or something?”

satoru can’t help but smile at your concern, “it’s only free practice tomorrow morning, just to get a feel of it all” he assures you, “what’re you up to?”

“heading to my bus stop actually! gonna get home and make sure I’ve got everything for my flight” you giggle, a little more bounce in your step as the time for your departure nears.

“do you need me to get you an Uber to the airport?” he questions, rubbing his burning eyes, refusing to give in to his exhaustion. just a couple more minutes, he told himself.

“nah my friend's dropping me off, but how am i getting to the hotel and stuff?” you’re beyond nervous for the whole trip, hands a bit sweaty just thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“I’ve got a driver picking you up, you might be tired so you don’t have to come to the free practices or anything, I’ll see you after they’re done, so maybe sometime in the afternoon” he replies, about to say something else when a yawn cuts him off.

“are you sleepy?” you ask, nearing your bus stop and internally cheering when an empty one arrives at the same time you do.

“just a bit, media was exhausting” he chuckles.

“why don’t you get some rest, we can talk all you want after i land” the words still don’t seem real to you, “you need to get sleep, satoru.”

“only because you keep insisting” he agrees, a dramatic tone in his voice that makes you smile. “goodnight y/n, can’t wait to see you tomorrow” he yawns as he speaks, eyes already fluttering shut.

“goodnight satoru, sweet dreams” you reply, biting back a grin as you hang up, your nerves at bay for now.

you should’ve known satoru booked you a first class seat, but you were still shocked when you sat down in the spacious seat.

‘how much did this ticket cost ????’

you didn’t expect a reply back, he was more than likely already at the race track getting ready for the first free practice.

‘don’t worry about price :) how’s the flight ?’

satoru had to be out in the garage in 30 minutes, his suit only half zipped as he sat in the room waiting for kento to come get him. he can’t help but think about you, how your flight was going, if you were regretting coming.

three sharp knocks on the door have him shooting you one last text ‘have to go :P’ before carelessly setting his phone on the counter and hastily putting the rest of his suit on.

“come in” he sing songs, knowing a familiar blonde headed man would be the one on the other side of the door. the door swings open only a moment after, kento giving satoru a small smile before stealing a piece of candy from his counter.

“you ready?” kento asks him, tossing satoru his gloves. “toto wants you to get a feel of the track, not pushing much this session” satoru nods at his words, following his friend out the door and into the bustling garage.

“alright let’s kick the weekend off!” satoru grins, grabbing his balaclava and helmet before putting them on and hopping behind the wheel.

you felt silly, really you felt like you were back in eighth grade and crushing on the star football player that everyone wanted. you especially felt silly asking you friend for their f1 tv login so you could watch the first free practice.

though satoru didn’t expect you to keep up with formula one and understand exactly how it worked, you’d figure if things were serious enough to fly you out to a different continent, you should at least understand what his greatest passion was. it was a rabbit hole you fell into one night, and multiple videos, google searches and questions to your friend later you had a basic understanding of the motorsport.

by the time you landed the second round of free practice was halfway underway, and as promised a driver was there to greet you and help with your bags.

“mr. gojo has arranged for you to have your own suite in the hotel,” the driver, ijichi, states. “however he has also asked me to give you a keycard to his room as well”, handing you two cards “in case you’d like to stay there instead.”

“oh thank you so much!” you exclaim, “I don’t have to check in or anything?” you ask, looking out the window in awe of the city around you.

“no, everything is set already” he says kindly, “and feel free to order anything for room service, if you’d like to go anywhere when he’s busy you can call my number” he hands you a small business card with a soft smile.

“oh wow thank you so much” you smile, “he really went all out huh.” ijichi smiles at you through the rearview mirror, nodding before focusing on the road again.

the hotel room was much larger and more expensive than you thought. you realized maybe you shouldn’t underestimate just how much money satoru had, and how willing he was to spend it on you.

curiosity got the best of you, setting your things down and walking into the hallway. the large window at the end of the hall caught your attention, your mouth falling agape when you saw just how close to the circuit you were. the cars seemed to fly on the track, and you found yourself looking for satoru’s. after a minute you headed back, finding his room and hesitantly putting the keycard up to the lock, heart racing when it actually unlocked the door.

satoru’s room was about the same as yours, and you could t help but snoop around. there were two beds in his room, whereas yours only had one. the notepad on the table has something written in it, you debated not reading it and minding your business. but you could only stop yourself for so long.

onigiri, strawberry sandos, chips?

the messy handwriting matched satoru's. was he thinking of foods to take on your picnic? the realization made your face heat up and your lips curl into a bashful smile. you stopped a giggle from leaving your lips, composing yourself before heading back to your own room.

your phone buzzed after a couple moments, speak of the devil.

‘just finished wrapping up, did you make it safe?’

you couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping this time, biting your bottom lip before typing out a reply.

‘yup !! just got to my room actually :3’

satoru smiled at his phone at your text, sending you a ‘see you soon then ;)’ before putting it in his pocket. as he exited the paddock a couple fans called out for him, making his step falter and head back to say hello, signing a few things before waving goodbye.

“good luck! we are all rooting for you!” one of them called out, he couldn’t help but smile widely, nodding before walking off. it hadn’t dawned on him really, the fact that it was his first ever home race in formula one. something he’d dreamed of since he first discovered the sport as a child.

he could feel his heart begin to race, hands getting a bit sweaty before he shook the thoughts out of his mind. he let his mind wander as he made the short walk to the hotel, catching himself grinning when he remembered you were waiting for him.

the soft knock on your door made your heart leap, unforeseen nerves surfacing as you thought about being face to face with the famed driver once again. a deep breath later you’re opening the door with a small smile, one that grows when satoru’s expression mirrors your own, growing in size upon seeing you.

“you really came” he breathes out, a relieved laugh leaving his mouth. “for a second i thought you were lying to me and had backed out” the admission made you gasp incredulously, smacking his arm and inviting him into your room.

“you wound me” you quipped back, “i wasn’t gonna leave you hanging, not after all the effort you’ve put into all this” your arms motioning to the room around you. satoru is glad his face a bit flushed from both the free practice and the walk here, or else you’d surely notice the prominent blush on his cheeks and ears.

“did you wanna go out today?” he asks, taking the liberty to sit on the edge of your bed, you’re quick to join him. despite having only known you for under a month, he could tell you were at odds as to what to say. “we can stay in, i know how exhausting flights can be.”

satoru’s toothy smile warmed your heart, his dimples seemed especially prominent today. you let your head rest on his shoulder letting out a small sigh.

“as much as i wanna go out and explore, yeah im exhausted” you chuckled. satoru couldn’t help but smile wider at the physical contact.

“how about we watch some movies and order in?” he suggests, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you down so the two of you were laying on your backs.

you turn to look at him, nodding your head as your eyes traced over his features. his hair was somehow still fluffy, blue eyes softly meeting yours. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, he didn't know someone could look as stunning as you do after a flight.

“sounds perfect” you whisper, eyes briefly landing on his lips before focusing back on his eyes.

satoru excused himself after ordering food, going to shower and change before coming back to your room to join you for the night.

it felt like the two of you were back in a bubble. just you and satoru getting to know each other, feelings growing after every exchanged glance and shared laugh. it didn’t feel like you’d met him three weeks ago, everything about him felt familiar. being with him felt safe, it felt right.

satoru felt it too, and it thrilled him. the warm feeling in his chest anytime he saw you, the way he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you a beat longer than normal.

it was during a stolen glance that the two of you caught each other, bursting into a fit of laughter before calming down.

“i thought you were watching the movie” you accused, tone playful as you look at satoru. he was leaning back on his arms, a charming smile on his lips as he cocked his head at your words.

“why should i? you aren’t watching it either” he shot back, smile never faltering as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“yes i am!” you defended, “you’re the one who keeps looking at me” satoru grins, leaning in a bit into your personal space.

satoru was confident and cocky when he wanted to be. but he was never one to make the first move, too scared to mess things up. it was the reason he hadn’t kissed you yet, despite having taken you out on multiple dates. with every centimeter he leaned closer, his heart rate rivaled the speed of it pounding in his chest during a race.

his face was only inches away from yours as he replied back, “too pretty to not look at.” the words have your face hot and heart pounding, your brain all over the place.

thankfully you didn’t have to think about what you wanted to do next. instead you bit the bullet and closed the space between the two of you, lips crashing onto his. satoru was quick to move a hand to cup your cheek, shifting it to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss after a moment.

you let your hands wander, tangling your fingers in his hair before traveling the expanse of his back and finding their way to his chest. pushing gently when you desperately needed a breath of fresh air.

even as you two pulled away your senses were consumed with him. you nose filled with the smell of his cologne and body wash mixed together, making your brain feel even fuzzier than it already was.

satoru was not much better, his mind in a haze as he tried to reel himself back in. the taste of your lips and the feeling of your hands on him stuck in his mind.

the end credits of the movie began to roll, causing the two of you to snap your heads to the screen before looking back at each other and laughing once more.

“i didn’t pay attention at all” you confessed, a shy smile on your face when satoru’s mouth dropped open.

“after you chewed me out for not paying attention!” he gasps, wrapping his arms around you and tackling you back onto the bed, “neither was i” he admits, laughing when you smack his chest.

there’s a moment of silence that blankets the room, a comfortable silence. it’s only broken by satoru’s phone buzzing, making him apologize and grabbing his phone to read the text notification.

suguru geto 11:37 pm

good luck tmrw

you take the opportunity to go to the restroom, coming back to find satoru laying on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. you’re quiet as you join him back in bed, laying next to him and glancing over at him.

“nerves?” you whisper, he gives you a convincing enough nod. satoru was not prepared to lay everything out for you, not tonight.

“first ever home race” he breathes in, sighing after a while before flipping to face you. “glad I’ve got you with me though” he grins. you blush, nodding your head before placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

the second movie was a failure as well, with both of you talking over it (and making out) the entire first half and falling asleep for the second half.

the next morning satoru is up before you, his eyes fluttering open and gaze settling on your sleeping form. he can’t describe the feeling in his chest, the feeling of waking up next to you. it’s something he wants to relive over and over again.

tomorrow, he decides. he’s asking you out tomorrow.

when you wake up there’s a note sitting on your nightstand. it’s satoru’s handwriting, written when he was still half asleep you assume from how messy it is.

left for free practice but I’ll see you at qualifying?? <3 :)

there’s a small doodle of a race car and two stick figures you can only assume are you and him. you can’t help but smile, folding the paper and putting it into your suitcase for safekeeping.

satoru feels good enough after the third free practice, getting out of the car with a smile. he’s quick to take his gear off, heading over to where kento was sitting to go over the strategy they had planned for qualifying.

you decide to head over to the paddock early, beating the crowds for qualifying so you don’t get lost or in the way. before long you’re in the Mercedes garage, with satoru’s assistant smiling at you and waving you over.

“satoru just went to the restroom but he’ll be back soon! you can wait here in his room” she opens the door and you thank her softly, looking around before taking a seat.

the door swings open, with satoru’s eyes seemings glowing with joy as he spots you.

“you’re here early! i didn’t think I’d see you until after qualis” he grins. you can’t help but be in awe of satoru in his racing suit, with the fireproofs hugging his body perfectly. as much as you try to not focus on how perfectly sculpted he is, you can’t keep your eyes off him. “hey now my eyes are up here” he teases, putting a finger underneath your chin and gently pushing it upwards.

“dunno what you’re talking about” you smile, “been looking at those pretty eyes this whole time.” satoru’s skin flushes, a smile on his lips before he’s pressing them onto yours, giggling into the kiss before pulling away.

“well now that you’re here do you want a tour?” you’re quick to nod yes, making his smile widen as he takes your hand in his and walks you out of the room.

satoru begins pointing and explaining everything, going into detail about more important things and how they contribute to the race. there’s movement all around you, with satoru speaking quite loudly so you can hear over the chaos of everyone prepping things before qualifying.

there’s a sparkle in his eye as he explains what the engineers do, his hands moving expressively as he looks at you, excited to see you’re paying attention to him still. “this is obviously the car, usually there’s more work being done around it but since we can’t make changes anymore it gets some time alone” he jokes, making you giggle as he takes your hand again, leading you out into the sunlight.

“so this is the pit lane, where the pit stops happen” he rambles on about pit stops for a second, pointing across the lane where the race engineers sit and explaining quickly how they communicate with him during the race.

satoru also explains to you what qualifying is all about, make it in the top 15 in Q1, then top 10 in Q2 then as best as you can in in Q3.

before long you’re wishing satoru luck, squeezing his hands and placing a kiss on his cheek. you head up to the seating area you’d been told and watch as he puts his helmet on before getting in the car, people surrounding him as they talk about god knows what.

soon enough he’s exiting the garage and into the pit lane, the first round of qualifying fast underway. he’s one of the last ones to set a time, landing himself in P14, a fact that made your palms sweat, knowing if he’d been a couple seconds slower he would’ve been out.

by the start of Q2 satoru pulls himself together, mind focusing only on the track and the car. he lands himself in P8, talking to the race engineers and tweaking his strategy to try and improve before the final round.

your fingers are crossed when he heads out for the final round of qualifying, bottom lip between your teeth as he pushes on his final attempt for a better starting position.

“and satoru gojo manages to land himself in P5! a rocky start to todays qualifying for the rookie but it seems as though he’s ready to take on his first ever home race” the commentator speaks.

you can’t help but cheer along with the others in the garage, beyond excited and proud of satoru as you join them outside to watch him pull into the assigned position.

it’s a sight to behold as he gets out of the car, pulling his baclava off his head with an open mouth smile. he finds you in the crowd almost instantly, winking at you before going to do his post race duties.

you wait for him in the garage, smiling when he finds you with a smile on his face.

“i told you you’d be amazing” you praise, letting him pull you into a hug despite being quite sweaty. “are you done for the day?”

satoru shakes his head, “not yet, I’ve got some media stuff and a debrief to go over data from right now” he sighs. “you can head back to the hotel and we can get dinner when I’m done?” he grins as you agree, saying goodbye to you before heading back into the garage.

true to his word satoru takes you out to dinner, treating you to only the best food as you two talk about anything and everything. you try and coax him into heading back early, but he refuses, taking your hand and pulling you through the city.

after two hours in the city satoru finally agreed to head back to the hotel, fingers interlocked with yours as you swung your arm back and forth with his.

“you’re nervous again” it comes out as more of a statement than a question. satoru sighs, staring at the sky while the two of you sit on a bench near the hotel.

“i don’t want to disappoint anyone, you know?” his voice is a bit shaky, “everyone has such high expectations of me because of how I’ve been doing and it’s getting to me a bit i guess” he changes his focus from a drifting cloud to picking at his nails, leg bouncing a bit.

“you’re going to do great out there” your hand makes its way to his thigh, squeezing reassuringly before taking his hands in yours. “and even if everything goes wrong and you get dead last you’ll still be my favorite driver,” satoru can’t help but smile, shaking his head and looking at you.

you end up staying in satoru’s room that night, despite your protests. he left you no choice when he grabbed your room keycard and held it above his head. you voiced your fear of getting in the way of whatever pre race rituals he does, to which he simply giggled and kissed you.

“i think cuddling can be a new pre race ritual of mine instead” he had replied, a coy smile on his face when you gave in and got into bed with him.

the next morning is a whirlwind as you head to the paddock with satoru. the two of you entering through a lesser used gate, one moment you were wishing him luck and kissing him on the cheek, the next he was already out of the garage and behind a Red Bull in the formation lap.

you help your breath as the five lights went out, watching on the edge of your seat as all 20 cars reacted quickly, fighting to get to the front.

“and the rookie tries to get the inside line on piastri but is unable to! pushed down to 7th place as alonso and norris over take him.” you let out a sigh as you listen to the commentator.

satoru stays in seventh for the better half of the race, managing to exit the pits before the mclaren in 6th and taking his spot. satoru is gains on alonso after a while, enabling DRS on a straight and managing to overtake him just before the turn.

a cheer erupts in the garage, with you nervously clapping as you stare at the monitor, a smile on your face as he fights to catch up to Ferrari ahead of him. soon enough he’s right behind him on a turn, pushing just enough to manage to get the inside line and successfully pass leclerc, putting himself in 4th place.

one more place for podium, you think. there was only a slight moment of peace when the standings were consistent for a good couple of laps, until satoru was close enough to 3rd to finally overtake them. the garage claps as he gained on the red bull in second place, with only a handful of laps left the chance of moving up a place was becoming slimmer.

“and we are in the final lap, with satoru gojo alarmingly close to Perez, could the rookie manage to snag second place in his first home race?”

“it seems like he might- he has DRS enabled and it pushing to pass Perez and he’s going to do it!” your mouth is agape in shock before you begin to cheer, smiling widely as he races by the checkered flag.

you can hear satoru cheering through the radio, the sound makes your heart grow warm. the entire garage is cheering, with everyone hugging each other and celebrating his success. everyone moves outside to greet satoru behind the barricades, with him throwing himself into his mechanics before even taking off his helmet.

when he finally does take his helmet off he’s looking for you, smiling widely when his blue eyes meet yours. he gets weighed and interviewed quickly, excitement over flowing as he answers questions with a giddy smile on his face the entire time.

as the podium ceremony begins you smile softly when satoru walks out, the crowd cheering loudly for their countryman as he waves. he finds you in the crowd again during the Dutch national anthem, sending you a wink as he claps when it ends.

the crowd cheers louder for him as he gets handed his trophy, holding it up proudly before setting it down as the celebratory music plays, being showered in champagne by the two Red Bull racers before he gets the chance to even pop his open.

when you see him again he’s pulling you in by the waist, smiling happily when you press your lips to his. he tastes like the champagne he was dripping in, the two of you are smiling into the kiss, giggling by the time you pull away.

“see? you had no reason to worry” you say, satoru smiles at you, his attention fully fixed on you. “my favorite driver” you grin, pressing another kiss to his cheek. it takes everything in him to not just ask you out then and there, not wanting to spend another moment with the thought of you never joining him again.

his name being called stops him, and he’s snapped back into reality.

“I’ve got some interviews i need to do and some stuff to make and film- but how does a picnic sound?” he asks.

“sounds perfect” you reply, “now go before they ban me for being too distracting” you push him softly, making him laugh before he’s giving you one last kiss, heading over to the social media coordinator.

it’s astounding to you the difference in demeanor satoru has now, sitting next to you atop a picnic blanket, compared to how he was during the race. the usual sure footed and confident formula one driver is gone, replaced by a nervous and bashful version of him.

“thank you for bringing me” you say, ending the beat of silence. “and thank you for the food too, it was really good,” you smile, relieved to see satoru smile back at you, slowly growing in confidence once again.

“i did tell you the convenience store was the right move” he quips, nudging your shoulder with his own.

“convenient, some would even say” you retort, giggling when he rolls his eyes and acts as if he’s scooting away from you. “you fly me out to japan just to scoot away from me?” you gasp, your lips turning upwards when satoru turns his back to you with a smile. “you know i think max might be my favorite driver” you say, laughing when he immediately snaps to face you with furrowed brows and a scowl on his face.

“that is so not fair!” he cries out, tackling you with a hug that causes both of you to fall backwards on the blanket. “take it back! say I’m your favorite!” he can’t help the smile on his face while he’s looking at you, hair a mess against the blanket.

“okay, okay you’re still my favorite driver” you admit, biting back a smile when you see how much his face lights up at your words. the spring breeze hits the two of you as you sit back up, cherry blossom petals falling around the two of you against a sky painted pinks and reds to match.

“i really like you” satoru blurts out, his gaze switching between his fidgeting hands and your face. you’re tempted to make a witty remark, something about you’d hope so after three week, but you hold your tongue.

“i didn’t think I’d find something serious, i wasn’t really- it wasn’t something high on my priority list you know?” he lets out a breathy laugh. “i told myself i was only gonna focus on driving, getting better and being the best, no time for anything else, no distractions,” you’re watching him intently, trying to read his facial expression when he’s looking at you.

was he breaking up with you? or was he-

“but you’re not a distraction, and i want to make time for you” his blue eyes are locked on yours now, no hints of uncertainty in his voice as he continues. “i want to be with you more than anything else; be by your side, have you cheering me on and celebrating after you pass exams, be able to just talk with you” he smiles.

“will you be mine?” satoru finally asks.

there’s a million thoughts in your head as you process his words, hundreds of reasons why you should say yes and thousands of what if’s. what about his schedule? and how much he travels and time zones and stress and school and-

there’s another gust of wind that causes more cherry blossoms to fall from the sky, landing over the two of you. you can hear a bird singing and you wonder if the universe itself is rooting for the two of you. a blossom falls perfectly on your face, landing on your cheek, it makes you smile.

“yes” your cheeks hurt from the smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, “of course yes!”

satoru meets your gaze with equal happiness as his arms immediately wrapped around you, squeezing your tightly. he lets out a sigh of relief, a wide smile on his face as he peppers your face with kisses. the two of you radiate the epitome of romance as you’re in each others embrace, with hearts practically forming as the two of you look at each other.

the night is spent in each others arms, giggles and dumb conversations filling the hotel room until late into the night. silly anecdotes and surprisingly deep questions keep the two of you from falling asleep, even when you both admit to your eyes burning from exhaustion.

“i don’t wanna go to sleep yet” he whispers, “because then it’s less time with you before your flight” the sadness in his voice is evident, and your tone mirrors it when you respond.

“me either” you sigh, one hand brushing the snowy hair out his his eyes and exposing his forehead a bit, “but then we’re both going to exhausted tomorrow” a small smile on your lips when satoru chuckles softly.

“yeah you’re right” he yawns, scooting closer to you before speaking up, “still can’t believe i won.”

“second place in your first year driving is an insane win” you agree, “you’re so talented, I’m so proud of you.” the words hit closer to his heart than satoru anticipated, breath hitching n his throat as he quickly regains composure and smiles.

“oh that too” he nods, “but i was talking about you being my partner” even as he utters the sentence he can’t help but get giddy, heart flipping as he watches a smile fight its way into your lips.

“you’ve had a great day haven’t you?” you ask with a smile, laughing when he nods happily in response.

the next morning both of you are beyond exhausted, a consequence of sleeping a mere four hours. neither of you regret it, only laughing it off as the two of you pack your bags up.

satoru would be heading back to his house in Monaco for the by-week before heading to shanghai for the chinese grand prix. you’d be heading back to your apartment for university and trying to catch up on work you could’ve been doing the entire weekend; you don’t worry about that yet, not when you have a 6’3 formula one driver by your side as you head to the airport.

“you’ll call me when you land?” he asks, a pout on his lips despite your nodding. “I’m gonna miss you so much” he sighs, pulling you into him by the waist and crashing his lips to yours.

you pull away after a moment, chasing his lips with a quick peck before sighing. “me too” you frown, “but we’ll call and text right?” the thousands of what if’s flood your mind as you look up at him, eyes frantically searching his face.

“you’re gonna be annoyed of me texting you” he smiles, kissing your cheek and extending out his pinky, “i pinky promise to call and text.”

you smile widely at his gesture, linking your pinky with his and shaking it softly, “i pinky promise to call and text.” satoru beams down at you, kissing you one last time.

you had barely sat down at your gate when your phone buzzed, a bashful smile on your face as you read the notification.

satoru <3

‘hi :3’

two what if’s were loudest in your head as you typed out your responsed; what if it worked out? what if it really was meant to be?

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[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii, Can you do a Steve Harrington x reader? About how they used to be best friends since they were kids then high school came around so did king Steve. Anyways, the reader confesses her feelings for him but before he can reply, his friends laugh and make fun of her. The reader stops being friends with him because he never defended her. But now, Steve has changed and wants to make things right and finally be with the girls he has always loved.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

High school mistake

Y/N never thought she would see the day her best friend Steve outgrew her. He was always shy and quiet, and they never left each other's side. They grew up together and now they were in high school and Y/N was struggling with the change.

Steve became popular once he joined the basketball team. Y/N remembered how excited she was when he made it, but now she wished he never tried out. It was selfish of her, but she missed her best friend.

The other issue was she was in love with Steve, pathetically and helplessly in love. She was always too scared to say anything but she didn't have to worry about much since no one looked their way. But now that he was popular, girls began looking his way.

Y/N was jealous and didn't know how to handle it. She figured she might as well try to go for it because it wouldn't be long until a girl beat her to it. So on a random day at school, she walked up to Steve.

She was terrified but losing him scared her even more.

She wished she could say it went well and they have been together since, but that would be a lie. She could never forget the look on his face as the words left her lips. He looked shocked, his eyes wide and mouth open. She confessed she was in love with him and he stood frozen. Before he could reject or confess, his friends around the halls laughed. They laughed as hard as they could as they ran up to them.

Steve never stood up for her, in the moment and after the moment.

It's been two years and she hasn't talked to him since. She was hurt and felt betrayed. The least he could have done was apologize after the fact and tell his friends to quit being assholes. But he never did.

Now, of course, people say he has changed. He now wasn't friends with anyone from high school. Apparently, he hung out with one girl, and the rest were younger children. It was a bit odd but it wasn't her place to care anymore. She hadn't seen him in months but figured she'd have to face him one day.

That day arrived faster than she wished. She was out at the mall when she saw his hair over the racks. She felt herself stop breathing and ducked down. She looked around the store, wondering if she could sneak by before he sa-

"Y/N?"

She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard his voice. She slowly stood up and opened her eyes.

"Steve," she greeted him with a small smile.

"I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" He asked, a big smile on his face like everything was cool. She froze when he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled back when she didn't move.

"I'm good. How are you?" She asked, trying her best to be polite.

"Good! Not much to complain about. I'm taking Dustin suit shopping so I better get back. But maybe we could get coffee or something? Catch up?" He asked, his hands in his pockets as he turned his head.

She forgot how pretty his brown eyes were. Years later he still made her heart race.

"We really don't have to do that, Steve." She sighed and he frowned at her response

"I want to" he fought

"I don't," she snapped, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "See you, Harrington."

Steve watched hurt as she turned around and left. Dustin was yelling his name but he couldn't move until her body vanished from his vision.

~~~

The run-in happened a week ago and Steve was still thinking about it. He hoped there wouldn't be hard feelings after all these years, but he was clearly wrong. He did want to talk to her, get the chance to apologize, and maybe fix things again.

He never forgot about her and missed her. He missed having his best friend and he knew it was his fault she left. He could have fixed it many times and he never did. But this time he was going to.

He showed up at her house or hoped she still lived there. He was right when she opened the door.

It took a lot of convincing but he made it inside, sitting on the familiar couch he slept on during sleepovers. He remembered how he wanted to sneak into her room and wrap his arms around her body. The countless times he fell asleep thinking about kissing her.

"What do you want?" She asked, already tired from the mess. Ever since she saw him it was like she started all over.

"I want to apologize for the shit I did in high school," he said but she just scoffed.

"Many years late for it to matter, or fix anything. Is that all?"

"Can you give me some mercy please?" He pleaded, his stupid eyes begging

"Why? You never gave me any" she shrugged, looking down at her hands as she played with the pillow on her lap.

"I know and I do mean it when I say I'm sorry," Steve said, softly touching her hand to make her look up. She froze but looked into his eyes.

"You gave me many chances to fix it and fix us. I was stupid and never did. I know I don't deserve to be here right now, and it's fair for you to hate my guts. But I miss you."

"I miss you too but I don't know. I lost my only friend and I suffered. You have to be popular and live life. Now you come back because it's all done? That makes me feel like shit." She explained

Steve listened to every word, moving closer as he moved the pillow off her lap. Now he held both her hands as his body leaned closer.

"Hit me, scream at me. Do whatever you need to do, I don't care. But after can we please start over? I never forgot what you said."

"Please don't bring that up," she mumbled embarrassed as she yanked her hands away. She stood up to give herself space from him.

"No, I will because we never talked about it," he fought as he stood up

"And who's fault was that?" She scoffed as she crossed her arms. "I get over it, so let's move on."

"I didn't though," he whispered

"What are you saying? It's been years, Steve. Do you think I still am completely in love with you after you rejected me?" She rolled her eyes, praying the front she put up was enough to fool him.

"Kiss me," he said, now standing right in front of her

"What?"

"Kiss me and if you don't feel anything, and you know there's no love in your heart anymore. Tell me that while you look in my eyes and I'll leave you alone." He explained, his voice getting lower and deeper as he moved closer. His face was inches away from hers as she tried to control her breathing.

She wasn't sure if she could lie to his face but what did she have to lose?

"Fine," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips against his. She planned to do a soft peck but then his hand landed on the back of her head. He made the kiss way more passionate and she fell into the trap. She clung to his shoulders as she kissed him harder.

It was as perfect as she always thought it would be. His lips were soft, warm, and in control. It took her breath away and made her head fuzzy. It was like everything melted and she was a puddle in his hands.

She gasped as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. And then he pulled away. She fought with everything in her not to chase his lips.

She blinked a few times as she looked into his eyes, trying to regain her thoughts.

She had the words on her tongue, ready to tell him he lost his chance and she could live with that. But he was finally doing what she dreamed about. He was fighting for her, and he planned to leave if she said the word. If she said it, he'd move on and fall in love with another girl. What would she win? Pride? But at the cost of a broken heart and never loving him for the sake of herself.

Maybe it wasn't what he deserved but what she deserved. And fuck it, she deserved to have her heart fixed.

"I love you," she whispered

She could see his eyes light up and the shy smile on his face.

"God, I love you too," he whispered, closing the space between them.

[thebearer]

would you ever write something about protective baby daddy carmy, maybe it’s only a few weeks until the baby is born so super big belly and coming to family or making her spend all the time at the restaurant so he doesn’t miss the birth

"Make way, wide corner!" Richie bellowed, arms waving back and forth, guiding you through the kitchen like you were an airplane landing.

You glared at him, a snarl in your expression as you waddled around the corner. It was hot and you were so fucking pregnant, due any day now. "Shut the fuck up, Richie." You huffed, flinching at the heat of the kitchen, a wave of nausea coming over you.

"Richie, leave that poor woman alone. What's the matter with you, huh?" Tina snarled, glaring harshly at Richie. "How're you doin', Mama? How's the baby?" Her tone dropped to something sweeter, kinder for you, hand rubbing over your swollen abdomen. Normally, it bothered you when people touched your bump, but Tina was different. It was comforting with her.

"Miserable. Swollen. Hot." You muttered, looking down at your growing belly where baby girl was still jabbing at your ribs.

"I mean this in the nicest way, but... has the baby grew more since last week?" Sydney's eyes were skittish and wide, darting carefully from your stomach back to you.

You snorted lightly, running a hand over the swell of your abdomen. "She dropped a few days ago. Getting ready for launch." You muttered.

"Oh, that-that's, uh, terrifying." Sydney nodded, awkwardly. "Sorry, that's not what you want to hear, but, uh..."

"No, you're right. It is." You laughed, a little uneasy. It was fucking terrifying, all of it- pregnancy, birth, motherhood in general. It was scary.

"It also is so fucking painful because now everything is heavier and my back feels like it might snap." You gave a fake forced smile.

"Oh, poor Mama. That just means she's close. Only a few more days?" Tina beamed. "How much does she weigh?"

"They think eight pounds." You groaned, Sydney's eye bulging expression.

"Ay dios mio..." Tina muttered under her breath. "Well, you'll be so drugged up, honey, you won't even feel it."

"I'm praying for a C-section." You scoffed lightly. "Carmen's already said he's gonna be a wreck either way."

"Yeah, and he will be, won't you, Cousin?" Richie cackled, clapping his cousin on the back as he passed by.

"Be what?" Carmen muttered, too in the game to even see you there. "Chef, have you finished prep?"

"No, Jeff. Talking to your beautiful baby mama." Tina cooed, giving your arm a gentle squeeze.

Carmen's eyes lifted to you, brow furrowed when he looked at the time. "Hey, baby, I lost track of time." He muttered, lips brushing over yours in greeting, hand gliding down your growing stomach.

"We know you did, Cousin." Richie scoffed. "I went and got her."

"You drove with Richie?" Carmen's eyes flashed to you.

"C'mon, Carm. I'm a good fuckin' driver, alright? Quit busting my balls." Richie snorted, rolling his eyes at him.

"He drove safe, Carmy." You reassured, hand rubbing down his forearms sweetly.

Carmen hummed, rolling his eyes gently, but moved you through the kitchen after Sweeps almost hit you with a pan rounding the corner. "Here, come in my office."

"Is it cooler in there?" You moaned, lip jutting in a pout. "I'm about to stand in the freezer, Carmy, it's so fuckin' hot in here."

"I know." Carmen had learned, knew better now, than to do anything but agree with you. He'd been on the receiving end of your wild hormones too many times, your lashing tongue or worse- the fucking tears.

"I put the fan in here, and I have that neck thing in my little fridge, ok? You should be laying down anyways. Not supposed to be up." Carmen frowned lightly , pushing the door open to his office.

The couch was now used as your temporary napping place throughout the day. Carmen had put the bear in overbearing- a joke you told him that he did not find that humorous- when you became pregnant, and it only got more and more severe as months went on. When you got into your third trimester, put on bed rest the last few weeks, Carmen had taken it beyond serious. Insisting that you come stay with him at the restaurant. He was terrified at the thought of something happening or you going into labor when he wasn't around.

You'd agreed, reluctantly, really only because you wanted Carmen close and... because you were in a restaurant. Any type of craving would be satisfied easily for you.

"I think if I lay down, Carmy, I'm not making it back up for family." You yawned gently, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand.

Carmen grinned, reaching to turn on the fan besides the couch, pointing it at you so it would blow the cool air over you. "That's alright. I'll bring it here to you." He muttered, pulling the blinds closed for you.

You sat down, propped against the pillows, head lolling to the side to look at him. Carmen sat beside you, hand rubbing over your stomach. "Where's she at today?"

"Same place she was this morning. Right under my ribs." You grin, moving his hand under your left boob, pressing to the side when her fluttered kicks were.

Carmen beamed, eyes brightening as his hand ghosted over the spot there. "Talk to her, Bear." You muttered, eyes fluttering shut. This pregnancy fatigue was no fucking joke. "She likes your voice."

"Yeah?" Carmen grinned, perking at the compliment.

"Yeah." You nodded. "She likes to hear her Daddy's voice. Makes her kick like fucking crazy."

Carmen leaned down, cheek resting on your stomach gently. "Hi, baby. Are you bein' good?" He muttered, your body flushing with adoration at the gentleness of his words. "You ready to come out soon? We're ready for you to. I know your Mommy is."

You snorted, a breathy laugh cut short by a sharp kick to your ribs. "Keep talking." You muttered, moving his hand a little further to wear the kick was. "Bring out the cookbooks again."

"Yeah?" Carmen hummed, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Your Mommy thinks that's funny, but when you come out knowing how to make bruschetta, she's gonna be blown away. Won't she?" Carmen's voice lilted, a tone of baby talk that had you swooning. It was new, something he just recently started doing in the recent weeks. While you were nesting, so was he, in a different way. Getting used to the idea of being a dad, the anxieties he felt traded in for an excitement.

Carmen could feel it, tiny kicks pressing through your tight, stretched skin. His baby, kicking to the sound of his voice. His heart swelled. "See, she agrees with me."

You laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I know she does. Already got you already, hm, Berzatto?"

"Gets it from her, Mama." Carmen jested back, a playful twinkle in his eyes that had your heart soaring out of your chest, tears welling in the corners- damn pregnancy hormones. "Learnin' from you already."

You smiled wordlessly, a watery grin that had Carmen a little on edge until you reached out, pulling his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. Carmen's hand cradling your cheek, free hand going back to where the baby had been kicking, soothing it gently while your eyes fluttered shut.

[thefreakandthehair]

you're my fantasy.

written for ‘shower’ wc: 399 | rated: m | tags: established relationship, slice of life, modern au, steve harrington plays fantasy football and eddie munson loves him so goddamn much, suggestive ending @steddiemicrofic

Eddie moved in with Steve six months ago, but he’s still not used to the hot water never running out.

It doesn’t trickle, it doesn’t fade, it doesn’t force him to hurriedly scrub the shampoo from his scalp after just a couple of minutes. Cold showers are good for two reasons: unbearable Indiana summers and having to look at a thought-to-be-untouchable Steve in a swimsuit. But now, he lives in Steve’s house with it’s central air conditioning and he gets to touch Steve every fucking day so suffice to say, he never wants to experience the sharp cut of a cold shower again.

He stands in the enclosure, face towards the spray and he rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck. The heat from the water fills the bathroom, a fog that settles across the mirror above the sink.

It’s quiet.

It’s peaceful.

It doesn’t last.

Eddie startles as he hears footsteps rushing up the stairs, feet tripping over themselves, only for Steve to barrel through the bathroom door. He grimaces and braces himself against the sink countertop, leaning down to rub one hand over his calf.

“Um… hi?” Eddie pulls the curtain back enough to see Steve clearly without letting all of the precious warmth go to waste. “Not tired of seeing my dick yet? You could've just asked.”

Steve stands up straight and rolls his eyes. “I’m definitely not tired of seeing your dick and never will be, but that’s not why I busted my ass running up here. It’s 6:55pm. The game kicks off at 8:15pm. I’m down by 23 points in our fantasy league, I’m playing Wayne, and they just announced that they’re sitting Christian McCaffrey because of a calf strain! Just now, Ed!”

“You…” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “You ran up the stairs like some sort of possessed spider just to tell me that my uncle is going to beat you this week?”

“It’s the last game of the week!” Steve repeats, bending down again to massage his leg flared nostrils and pinched eyebrows. “I have no one left to substitute in!”

“And it looks like you’re gonna be benched this week for your own calf injury.” Eddie shakes his head and smirks, impossibly fond and so goddamn in love. “C’mon, get in here with me. Can’t fix your football team, but I think I can make you feel a lot better.”

husband and I are both in multiple fantasy leagues and in one of the leagues we aren't in together, he was banking on Christian McCaffery to win the week for him. McCaffery was the offensive player of the year last year, the universal number one draft pick for fantasy football leagues this year, and arguably one of the best running backs in the NFL. him getting sat an hour before the game on Monday was a Big Deal™️ and this is my long way of explaining that this is yet another entry into the fic genre of "Lex's Husband Doing Steve Harrington Things." anyways, he scared the fucking shit out of me when he ran into the bathroom to tell me. 💀

[oddinary4bts]

Sweet | ksj

☆request:

Congratulations on the milestone ! Can we get a Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military?

☆pairings: idol!Seokjin x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

☆warnings: unedited, cursing, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, protected sex (with mentions of unprotected sex), big dick!Jin

☆word count: 3.5k

☆a/n: i did not expect to write smut in this but here we are haha i hope you guys like this one! i had a lot of fun writing it <3

☆☆☆☆☆

It's so sweet, knowing that you love me Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair It's so sweet

Sweet - Cigarettes After Sex

☆☆☆☆☆

Seokjin hasn’t seen you in ages, his military service whisking him away from…

From whatever his relationship with you was. Not quite a relationship, but more than friendship, Seokjin thinks he was too immature a year and a half ago to understand you. But when you sent him a message two days ago to congratulate him for finishing his service, he figured he should see you.

If only so that he can give you the closure he never gave you. Because he practically ghosted you when he started his service, not replying to your messages after his obligatory training where he couldn’t touch his phone anyway.

He felt bad. Horrible even, but the distance seemed necessary after the words you last exchanged.

After you all but confessed your love for him. 

It was too much too soon, or maybe he truly was just immature then. Because today, as his car is eating the miles to your apartment, he thinks maybe he was wrong. The heaviness in his chest makes it feel so, as does the rain battering his windshield.

Seokjin parks outside on the street in front of your building, glancing up to see the lights are on in your apartment. His hands turn clammy, and he rubs them on his jeans in a failed attempt to dry them.

It doesn’t work, because the second you’re buzzing him in, they become clammy again and he’s too anxious to even think about drying them again. The anxiety only keeps increasing as he climbs the stairs to the second floor, worrying at some skin on his bottom lip, and it reaches a never-seen-before high as he stops in front of your door.

He takes a deep breath to ease his nerves, thinking about the many times he was here before. That night after your first date - a blind date his friend set up for him - when you told him to come home with him.

He should have known then that it was setting your story in a way that wouldn’t end well for you, to go home with you that night.

Seokjin raises his fist, and he thinks his hand is shaking. He ignores it, pretends he’s as confident as always, and he knocks three times, lowering his hand as he waits for you to open. It doesn’t take you long - he wouldn’t be surprised if you were waiting on the other side of the door.

You’re… beautiful. You were back then, but the months apart have done you good, and Seokjin’s throat dries as he just looks at you, his lips parting on a silent vowel. You just stand there, shining like an angel as a small, shy smile lights your features, your eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Seokjin doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Has never believed it, and though today may not be his first sight of you, it surely renders him speechless, his brain emptying until there’s just you.

“Hey,” you greet him, your voice like a melody conjured from a dream.

“Y/n,” he answers, and your name feels right, righter than anything before.

Your smile widens, and you step aside to let him in. He walks in, fully aware of how close your bodies are as you shut the door, but then you move back and he immediately misses your proximity.

What is wrong with him?

“How have you been?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, swallowing. “Better now.”

He means the words. He means them more than he’s ever meant anything in his life, and he thinks you catch the meaning behind his sentence. Because blush creeps on your cheeks, and your gaze drops to the floor.

“What about you?” he quickly adds, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.

“I’m… good,” you answer, and you let out a small chuckle. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

You’re direct. It’s something he’s always thought was admirable about you, but the revelation hurts, sending a pang through his chest.

“Y/n…” he trails off.

“But you’re here now,” you say, and your smile turns pained, sad.

How many sleepless nights has he caused you?

“I am,” he says, voice small. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it.” You shrug your shoulders. “You were busy with your service, it’s not like it was easy to maintain a…” You never finish the sentence, even though Seokjin waits patiently for you to say it.

For you to acknowledge that it was just a situationship, that maybe you both just played each other.

“I really am sorry, though,” Seokjin insists, looking down at his shoes. “You did not deserve that.”

You nod once, your gaze trailing to the side. “Then, can I ask… Why did you want to see me?”

His heart stops in his chest. He’s still struck by the sight of you, barely unable to form coherent sentences, but you deserve an explanation.

You deserve closure, if that’s what you want.

“I thought…” he trails off, wets his lips before continuing, “I thought you deserved closure.”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

He thinks you’re dismissing him. It feels like you are, like you’re telling him to leave, but he just stands there, drinking your features in.

Choking on the hurt he knows he’s caused.

“I really apologize, Y/n,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “You did not deserve the radio silence. I… I kind of thought it would be better for you, that you deserved better than being stuck with someone that was going to be gone for months.”

“You could have just said so…” you point out.

Seokjin sighs, his gaze dropping to the ground in shame. “I know. I was stupid, and I was immature too. Which is bad considering I’m in my thirties now but… yeah. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t say anything for a time, the silence getting heavier with every second passed. Seokjin meets your gaze, and he wonders if you can tell how guilty he’s been feeling. He thinks you might, because you wet your lips, glancing to the side, and then you say, “You came all the way here to say this?”

He nods. “You deserved better than a text message. When you texted me two days ago, it reminded me of all the good times we’ve spent together.” The truth comes to the surface, and Seokjin whispers it, afraid he’s going to scare you away. “I’ve missed you, Y/n.”

The world must have stopped turning. Time must have stopped, because you just stand there unblinkingly. He’s not sure you’re even breathing. But then slowly, like the first sun rays in the morning, a smile spreads on your lips. 

You’re beautiful, too beautiful, and Seokjin can’t believe he got scared last year. He doesn’t think there’s anything scary about the woman standing in front of him.

“And you think I’ll just forgive you like this?” you ask even though you’re smiling.

It’s like a stab to the chest. His heart aches, and Seokjin doesn’t know what to reply. He’s aware he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he wanted to give you his truth.

“I don’t think I deserve it, honestly,” he says. He gulps around a sudden lump in his throat, glancing around your apartment if only so that he can commit it to memory. “But I have missed you. I’ve felt guilty about it for months, but didn’t know how to approach you. Didn’t think you’d want me texting you out of the blue. I just… When you reached out, I just couldn’t let you go without at least having apologized.”

You nod, leaning against the wall as if your legs can’t support you anymore. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He reckons he’s losing you. Not that he really had you to begin with, but Seokjin thinks he’s losing you, and it hurts more than he ever thought it would.

“Of course.”

There’s another silence of lingering heaviness, and then you nod your head. Push up from the wall and walk in your apartment, sitting down on the couch. You offer him a small smile, patting the spot next to you.

“Come in,” you tell him. “Let’s catch up.”

He widens his gaze, not really believing what you just said. But then again, he knows you’re a forgiving person - he’ll make sure you don’t regret your decision.

And he doesn’t think you do. No, you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting, with you telling him all about your work and that annoying coworker that used to get on your nerves last year too. It’s easy, filled with smiles and laughs and reminiscing, and when you invite him for dinner, Seokjin decides to cook for you.

He doesn’t want you to lift a single finger for him, not when he wants to make it up to you. And he thinks he does, to a certain extent. You’re beaming by the time you’ve finished eating, telling him that you missed his food the most, and Seokjin complains that you only like him for his food. You just laugh it off, and then tell him that he’ll have to cook a thousand more meals for you.

Call him crazy, but he knows he will. He’ll cook every meal for you if that means he gets a chance with you again. One that he promises to himself that he won’t fuck up. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t make a move tonight - he tries to respect you, to respect the fact that you might need a bit of distance from him before you want to be with him like that again.

He thinks it was the right decision. He thinks it was worth the weeks of waiting before you kissed him for the first time again, in a different setting this time. At his own apartment, after you’ve had his Jajjangmyeon. You kiss softly, by the door, and Seokjin wonders if you can hear the wild beats of his heart in his chest.

You have to. Because you lay a hand on his chest right above his heart as you pull away from the kiss. You’re smiling, your cheeks slightly flushed as you look between his two eyes. And then you say, “I want you tonight.”

Seokjin doesn’t need to hear more. He cups your cheeks, stealing a languid kiss on your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers brush the strands of hair at the back of his head, and then you tug on them a little.

He grunts, pushing you back towards the door. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your heat dangerously close to his dick. He’s already getting hard, blood shooting down from his heart to his cock, and he grinds into you, swallowing the soft moan you let out.

A second later, you tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and Seokjin lets you in, getting drunk to the taste of you. He’s so high with the taste of you that his mind is elsewhere - he doesn’t know how you make it to his bed. All he knows is that, ten minutes later, you’re splayed out on his bed like his own personal feast, and the sight of your glistening pussy makes him go feral.

He kneels between your thighs, hooks your legs on his shoulders before leaning closer, lapping your juices up. You make a breathy sound he remembers from every night he couldn’t sleep during his military service, instead thinking about how much he missed you.

You taste good. You taste sweet and salty, a perfect mix to his senses that makes him forget everything else but you. He circles your clit with his tongue, teases the bundle of nerves before he goes back to your entrance, pushing his tongue in once. You moan, one hand finding his hair to tug at the strands, and you instinctively grind in his face. Seokjin flattens his tongue to let you do it, to let you seek friction on the wet muscle, and then he unleashes himself, eats you out like you’re his last meal on this Earth.

You’re panting already, alternating between mewls and moans by the time he pushes a finger inside of you, fighting against your already tightening walls. They relax when he sucks on your clit, and he takes it as an opportunity to push another finger in, curling his digits to hit the right spot inside of you.

After all, he knows he needs to stretch you out before he’ll be able to fuck you. You’re on the smaller side, and he’s… bigger than a lot of guys, so you do need the stretching. And he’s pleased to oblige, circling your clit, flicking it until your walls start spasming on his fingers. Not even a heartbeat later, you’re coming, his name on your lips in a sinful cry as he rides you through the orgasm, going feral with the sounds you make, and mostly with the taste of you.

His chin is covered with your juices by the time he sits back on his heels. He licks his fingers clean as you watch him through half-lidded eyes, and then he grabs his discarded shirt from the side - he barely remembers getting naked - to wipe his face dry.

You’re naked too. A literal goddess sent from above to grace him with your presence. You’re everything he could have ever wished for, and he still can’t understand how stupid he was last year.

To think he could have had you during the rare breaks from his service… 

He was stupid. Stupid, foolish and everything in between, but at least he’s here with you now.

“Wow,” you let out, a small chuckle falling from your lips. You’re visibly fucked out, yet you still manage to rock his world as you reach for his dick, giving him a squeeze. “I want you.”

Shit.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you start stroking him.

“So big…” He grunts at your crude words. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about sex with you for weeks, Jin.”

He looks around, searching for his pants. They’re over by the door, a lot farther away than he imagined they would be. It feels far, too far, considering he’s already nestled between your legs.

“What?” you let out, and you grip him tighter.

He feels it in his balls. He hasn’t had sex in forever - you being the last one before his service - so obviously he knows he won’t last. He’s so horny he thinks he’d be able to come all over your stomach if you keep jerking him off. But he stops you, gently wrapping his hand around yours to restrain your motions.

“Baby,” he breathes out. “Shit, let me grab a condom.”

“You don’t want to fuck me raw?” you tease, biting at your lower lip. “I haven’t had sex with anyone since you.”

The words please him far more than he thought they would. It feels like, maybe, you were his all this time too.

He says your name like a warning, but you only smirk mischievously.

“Afraid I’ll get pregnant?” you add. “Don’t you think we’d make pretty babies?”

You would. He knows damn well you would and it wouldn’t even be because of him. It’d be all you - your beauty is incomparable. 

“As much as I want to get you pregnant one day,” Seokjin replies, moving away from you. He misses your hand on him the second you let go, but it’s for the best. “I don’t think we are there yet,” he continues. “But I promise I’ll fuck babies into you one day.”

You close your thighs instinctively at his words as if you’re still searching for friction.

As if you didn’t come on his tongue just a minute ago.

It doesn’t take Seokjin a long time before he’s put a condom on, discarding the package in the trash can next to your bed. You’ve just been watching him, and he kneels back between your legs, his balls already tightening in anticipation.

He rubs his tip on your folds, collecting the glistening juice. Your mouth falls open on a silent moan, especially as he moves to your clit. One of your legs twitches from oversensitivity, or at least he assumes it’s because of that, and he aligns himself with your entrance.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he tells you.

“Don’t you remember how well I could-”

Your words are cut short as Seokjin pushes in, your walls sucking him in slowly and surely until he bottoms out, some of his dick still sticking out of you. You just look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and Seokjin licks his lips, saying, “You were saying?”

“I’ve missed this.”

Your words ring in his mind, on and on, erasing everything that he is to build him anew, to build him in a way that finally allows him to be with you. His heart fills with warmth, exploding like fireworks, and he bends down to capture your lips in a kiss that means more than words ever could. 

He doesn’t move for a while, warming his cock in you while he just keeps on kissing you, not even stopping for breathing. It’s like he doesn’t need it - hell, he thinks all he needs is you. And you kiss him back with so much passion he thinks this is it, he’s reached nirvana.

The feeling perseveres as he slowly pulls his hips back, before pushing forward again, the motion making his entire body tingle with pleasure. He swallows your soft moan, grunts in your mouth as your pussy clenches on him. Your hands are on his back, in his hair, and the second you pull on the strands again, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze.

“You feel so good,” you praise, eyes sparkling.

He smiles softly, pecking your forehead, and then he kneels back to take in the sight of you as he slowly fucks into you, spearing you open. The sight of your pussy swallowing his dick is indecent in the best way, and he progressively increases the rhythm, making sure not to hurt you.

He wouldn’t forgive himself if he did. So he fucks you gently, faster and faster but never hard, not until your hands find his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. He grunts then, swearing underneath his breath, and then says, “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Jin, it’s okay,” you let out. You smile, wetting your lips. “Just fuck me.”

He lets out what could be considered as a whine, and then his motions grow rougher. He stops himself after a few thrusts, and you meet his gaze, looking slightly annoyed that he stopped.

“You have to tell me if it hurts, okay?” he says as he cups your cheek. 

You smile softly, nodding once. “I will, I promise.”

Once the reassurance is finally uttered, Seokjin finally lets himself go, fucking you like his life depends on it. You’re soon moaning loudly, and he has half a thought that his neighbours might hear. But then again it turns him on even more to know he’s the one making you scream like that, and he’s soon moaning with you, praising you as he slowly feels his climax nearing.

But he wants you closer when he comes. Wants to feel you in his arms, to feel his skin on yours. So he leans forward again, caging you between his arms as he keeps fucking you into the mattress. Your nails soon scratch at his back, leaving marks he knows he’ll have to hide but can’t bring himself to care about.

“Fuck, Jin,” you moan, and his head drops in the crook of your neck.

“I’m going to come,” he says, and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as the high finally hits him, and he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom. 

He thinks he’s floating. He’s just a leaf floating away on a small lake, unbothered by the world. His whole body feels so light, and the only thing tethering him to the present is your arms around his neck.

He’s never come this hard before. 

“You okay?” you ask as you rub his back.

He grunts, trying to lift his head but failing. “Holy shit.”

You laugh lightly, and the crystalline sound is what finally brings him back down to Earth, what has to be minutes later.

“Wow.” He chuckles, pecks your lips. “That was amazing.”

You smile, your fingers drawing idle shapes on his back. “It was.”

Seokjin meets your gaze, taking a moment to observe the feelings swirling behind your irises, deep in the depths of your eyes. The emotions are like northern lights, swishing and shining and more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen before.

This time, Seokjin doesn’t get scared. This time, he takes the emotions in, knowing that they are reflected in his own gaze. And though you haven’t told it to each other, he knows that you love him.

And more than that, he knows that he loves you, too.

☆☆☆☆☆

hope you guys liked it:) let me know what you think about this one shot! love y'all <3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[winchesterwild78]

Brat

Master List

Characters: Ben (Soldier Boy) x Reader (girlfriend), mention of other characters

Warnings: Use of degrading names (consensual), SMUT!, a sprinkle of fluff, Soldier Boy (because he’s a warning all by himself), rough touching, unprotected sexual contact (cover it people)

A/N: Happy Birthday @cheynovak! Just a filthy birthday present for Chey. I hope you enjoy. Y’all don’t read this if you don’t like rough, degrading, but consensual sex. This is just pure SMUT and of course it has Soldier Boy so you know it’s going to be nasty in the best possible way. 

I wrote this fast and edited it fast-please overlook any mistakes.

Minors DNI 18+

You woke up early to the sounds of the birds singing. It was still dark outside, but you had to work. You stretched, groaned and reached your hand over to try and feel your boyfriend of 2 years beside you. You felt a pang of sadness when your hand touched the cold bed. 

A smile creeped across your face, Maybe he got up early to make me breakfast or he has a surprise planned. You climbed out of bed thinking your boyfriend, Ben, or Soldier Boy as the rest of the world knew him, was up making you breakfast. It was your birthday after all. The one day a year where everything should be about you.

You quickly showered and got dressed. You decided to wear the short black pencil skirt and off white thin blouse Ben loved on you. It showed off all his favorite parts of your body, your tits, your hips, and your perfect ass. You also wore the green lace bra that matched his suit. You had it made a few months ago and it drove him wild.

“Now everyone will know you belong to me doll.” He growled when he first saw it. You ordered a few, because sometimes Ben forgot his own strength and would rip your clothes. 

Walking down the hallway of your shared apartment your heart sank. The house was quiet and dark. Ben wasn’t there. You blinked away the tears that filled your eyes. A stray tear fell anyway. Quickly wiping it away you made a coffee, grabbed your stuff and headed to work. 

Vought Tower was a buzz of activity today. As soon as you walked through the doors you felt it. As you passed the security desk, Bob, the head of security waved, smiled and yelled “Happy Birthday!” You smiled and thanked him.

You got on the elevator and pushed your floor. You checked your phone and saw dozens of messages from friends and family, but nothing from Ben. Your heart sank more.

When the elevator arrived at your floor you walked to your office. Passing Ben’s office, you heard him in there talking to someone. Hesitating at the door, you decided to keep walking. 

When you opened your office door you saw the most beautiful bouquet of y/f/f on your desk. It was huge and practically covered your desk. There were other gifts and cards. You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

Sitting your things down you grabbed the card attached to the flowers. Your heart was thumping with anticipation in your chest. Then your heart sank. These beautiful flowers weren’t from Ben. The card read: Happy Birthday, Y/N! We love you and can’t wait to celebrate later with you. Annie, Huey, Butcher, MM, Frenchie and Kimiko.

Moving the flowers to the side you sent a message to the group text. Which Ben happened to be in too. 

You: Hey guys! Just got in and saw the beautiful flowers. Thank you for remembering my birthday. Love you guys so much! 

Annie: Yay! So glad you liked them. Can’t wait for later.

Huey: Annie and Kimiko picked them out, but Happy Birthday.

Butcher: Happy Birthday, love. 

MM: Yeah, Happy Birthday, Y/N.

Frenchie: Joyeux anniversaire mon amour

Kimiko: 🥰 💝 🎉

Ben: Get back to work!

His message pissed you off, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stepped in your office bathroom and slipped off your panties. Knowing when you bent over just enough of your pussy would show. What better way to get back at Ben for forgetting your birthday than to tease him. 

You grabbed your notebook, coffee and pen for the early morning meeting everyone was expected to go to. Walking into the conference room you were greeted by coworkers wishing you a Happy Birthday. You smiled, hugged them and your eyes flicked up to meet Ben’s. His face was cold with no expression. 

One of your male coworkers walked over to you and handed you a small gift and you hugged him. This time when you looked at Ben you saw a flash of anger and jealousy in his eyes as his jaw clenched. You smirked. 

Taking a seat, you decided to sit away from Ben. Your usual seat was right beside him. His mouth slightly opened when he saw you sit down. Whispers filled the room, which only intensified Ben’s growing frustration. 

“Alright, let's shut up and get to business.” Ben’s voice boomed through the room. A hushed silence fell. The tension in the air crackled. You sat in the meeting staring Ben down. Biting your lip, leaning forward and letting just the top of your breasts show. At one point Ben asked for the documents you had. Walking over to him you handed them to him. You ‘accidentally’ dropped your pen as you walked away and you bent down to pick it up. Ben saw you weren’t wearing any panties. A low growl came from his chest. You smirked when you saw Ben adjust himself. 

By the end of the meeting the tension in the air between you and Ben was so thick and strained. It was like a rubber band being pulled until it was ready to snap. Ben’s voice boomed, laced with frustration and anger as he told everyone to get out. The meeting was over. “Now, everyone get the fuck out and get back to work. Y/N, I need you to stay. I need to talk to you.” 

You gathered your things and looked up at Ben, “Sorry Soldier Boy, I have another meeting I have to get to. Whatever you need will have to wait.” Annie smirked as you gathered the rest of your stuff and sauntered out of the room.

Ben growled in frustration. You heard his heavy footsteps behind you, “I told you to stay, that I needed to talk to you.” “I heard you, Soldier Boy, and I told you I had another meeting and you’d have to wait.” 

As you got to your office door, Ben was hot on your heels. Pushing open your office door you felt Ben grab your arm, causing you to drop your things. “Woman, I told you to wait!” “And I told you no!” 

He pushed you against the door closing it. His face inches from yours. “Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?” He growled low. “Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?” 

Ben crashed his lips on yours, pinning your hands to the door. He growled in your mouth as he deepened the kiss. “You’re such a little slut, walking around this office with your cunt out. Were you hoping someone would fuck your little pussy for your birthday?” 

You bit his lip, “Someone has to, because my boyfriend forgot my fucking birthday.” You pushed past him and bent over to gather your things. You stuck your ass in the air, giving Ben a perfect shot of your glistening folds. 

Ben couldn’t help himself anymore. The sight of you in his favorite outfit, your pussy on full display, just waiting to be filled up. He grabbed your hips and pulled you over to the couch. Throwing you over the arm he hiked up your skirt, revealing how wet you really were. 

A smile tugged at your face. You heard his belt buckle and your walls clenched. Ben slid his thick fingers in between your folds and felt how wet you were for him. “Mmm such a needy little slut aren’t you. Is this all for me, or were you hoping someone else would fill this hole?” 

You wouldn’t answer him, you just smirked and bit your lip. “Answer me, or you don’t get anymore of this.” He thrusted his fingers inside you and then pulled out. You whined, “Yes Ben, I was hoping you’d fill me up. Nobody else.” His fingers went back inside, pulling a moan from your lips, “That’s right baby, who’s pussy is this?” Through shaky breaths you moaned, “Yours, only yours. Please Ben, I need you.” You begged as your body ached for him.

“Such a needy little whore aren’t you? Want my cock to fill you up, fuck a baby into you?” You nodded and moaned. “Nuh-uh, use your words, pretty girl.” “B…b…Ben, please, fill me up. Fuck a baby into me.”

Ben’s cock twitched at my words and he lined himself up and pushed in your dripping hole. You gasp and grip the couch. His hands are grabbing your hips as he’s driving his cock deep inside you. You feel the sting of his fingers digging into your flesh. Then without warning, one of his large hands comes down and smacks your ass hard. The sting sends a shock through your body. You yelped. Ben’s hand rubbed where he’d slapped you. 

His pace is hard and brutal, but you couldn’t get enough of it. Taking your hand you slid it down to your throbbing clit. You start rubbing, chasing your release. “No! Don’t you dare. You don’t get to cum until I make you cum.” Ben slapped your hand away. 

Ben grabbed your hips and pulled you up, he pulled out and walked around to the couch, sitting down. He pulled you on top of him.

Sliding his hands up your shirt, he removed it, revealing your bra. He smiled and you smirked. He carefully unhooked your bra and your breasts sprang free. As he cupped them and started sucking on your nipples, you lined yourself up and sat down on his cock. Taking every inch in quickly. You gasped and placed your hands on his broad chest to steady yourself. 

Rocking your hips back and forth, Ben continued the brutal assault on your tits. One of his hands went into your hair and pulled your head back. Revealing your neck and breasts to him more. You continued to bounce on his cock, feeling your coil build and the need for your release growing stronger. “Please Ben, I need to cum. Please let me cum.” You begged. 

Ben kissed up your neck, and to your ear, “Not yet doll. I’m not done with you yet.” Ben stood up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still inside you. He flipped you over on the couch and threw your legs over his broad shoulders. 

He pounded you into the couch, pushing you further into a fucked out state. Your mind going hazy and all sense going out the window. His hand gripped your neck. Which turned you on more. You trusted Ben, he’d never hurt you, and when he was rough there was always a gentleness to it. Ben loved you and you loved him. 

“You like that? Being fucked by a real man?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you, maybe I should stop.” “No….Ben….don’t….yes….I….like….it. Fuck!” You said through each thrust.

Ben pulled out and you groaned. He stood, pulled you into his arms and placed a soft kiss on your lips. He walked you over to your desk and helped you on it. You sat on the edge and Ben dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders he started to attack your pussy. Licking and sucking your hole and your clit. Your hands went into his hair and pulled him closer. “Oh fuck, Ben! Just like that baby.” He started eating you like he was a starved man. Pushing two meaty fingers inside and hooking them up. You pushed into him. “Oh Ben, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” You were a sweating, panting mess, ready for your release. 

Ben hummed against your clit and sucked hard. “Cum for me darlin’.” That pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream of his name. He lapped your release up, and when he stood you saw his beard was glistening. Ben kissed your lips and you could taste your release. 

He brushed a stray hair off of your sweat covered brow and smiled softly at you. “Benji, fuck a baby into me.” Ben pulled you off the desk and leaned you over it, pushing your belly into the hardwood. His hand grabbed your hips and the other lined himself up. He thrusted in and fucked you hard. Grabbing your hair. The fast, hard pace was pushing your belly and thighs into the desk. You knew you’d have bruises, but you didn’t care. 

As Ben got closer to his release you felt his thrusts get harder and his grunts louder. 

“I’m going to fuck a baby into this pretty little pussy so the whole world knows who you belong to.” Ben came with a grunt, you felt his release coating your walls. You bit your lip at the thought of having his baby. You were in love with him and saw a future with him. 

As Ben softened he pulled out, watching some of his cum fall to the floor. He smirked. He gently helped you up and grabbed a tissue to clean you. After the two of you got dressed, Ben kissed you. His lips, soft and gentle on yours. “I love you, Ben. That was amazing.”  “I love you too, Y/N. Happy Birthday, baby. Even if you are a brat.” 

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[juyeonszn]

I WANNA TIE THE KNOT

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.70k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P

SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.

MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

“Can we try this?”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement. 

“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face. 

“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”

It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man. 

So he agrees. 

Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan. 

He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”

Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”

The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you. 

“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible. 

“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing. 

Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay. 

“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”

He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time. 

Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun. 

A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you. 

You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up. 

“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”

“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately. 

You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely. 

Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick. 

Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday. 

He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early. 

“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense. 

“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…

Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit. 

“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?” 

Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority. 

Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now. 

“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?” 

It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses. 

You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move. 

“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”

“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[luimagines]

Could I have Twi giving Y/N a matching Wolf pelt? (I imagine he collected his fur to get it sneakily)

-🍃

Oh! I can work with this! :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Twilight suddenly wasn't super confident about this idea.

Was he weird? Was this weird? Because if it was then he was definitely weird.

It taken him a long time to get enough fur to make this even remotely comfortable and believable. Part of him still didn't want to believe that this entire coat had just... come off of him. He knew he shed a lot.

But never this much.

That being said, he had hoped that you wouldn't put the pieces together and call him out on it. He had to painstakingly pick up piece of piece of fur and stick them together into bundles before sewing them into a softened leather that was malleable enough to drape comfortably over your shoulders.

Twilight had taken months to get this to be even remotely proportional to his own pelt. He had noticed that you kept wanting to touch his own and had even stolen it on occasion.

His pelt serves him a very specific purpose, so while he would gladly be willing to share, it would be better off for the both of you if you had your own.

If this idea worked, anyway.

He approaches you quietly, when no one else is awake. He wasn't about to make a fool out of himself when there are others who would gladly hold it over his head of the rest of the known universe.

"Here." He drops it onto your lap unceremoniously. "It going to get clod later. You'll need it."

You gasp and lift it carefully. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it." Twilight feels his cheek warm up slightly. He prays that you blame the fire. "I can't give you my pelt all the time as much as I'd like to. I thought this would be a fairer compromise."

"I thought you hated hunting." You say softly and open the fur pelt to see it in full.

"It's not that I hate hunting." Twilight mutters. At least you're not assuming that Wolfie has anything to do with this. "I just don't see the need to over hunt when we have enough food....I got the fur from a hunt I joined the Champion on a while ago. He got the meat while I handled the rest of it."

You smile and finally look back to him. "I didn't even notice."

And he will thank his lucky starts every day for that.

He smirks. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you knew about it, now would it?"

You giggle and move the pelt to drape it over your shoulders. "No. I guess not."

Twilight reaches over and adjusts it a little bit. It's exactly as he envisioned it. "Perfect."

"Thank you, Link."

His heart skips a beat. "You're welcome."

[nahoney22]

Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️

I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!

Crash Landed 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 5.9k

Prompts: none

Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.

warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶

You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?

Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.

“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.

No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?

Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.

“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.

You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.

Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”

“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.

“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.

“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.

Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.

“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.

You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”

Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.

“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.

“I will have to carry you.”

“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.

He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”

With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”

With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.

You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.

"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.

"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.

“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.

"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.

"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.

Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.

“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.

Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.

“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.

As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.

“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.

Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.

Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.

“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”

You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.

“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.

He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”

You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.

As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.

“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.

Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.

With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.

"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.

“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”

Hm, that’s… surprising.

You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.

Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.

Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.

“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.

“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.

“Great.”

“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”

Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”

“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”

You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?

“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”

He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”

“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.

“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”

Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”

He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.

Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.

“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”

He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”

The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.

With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.

Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.

Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.

Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.

An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.

“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.

You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.

“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”

Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”

“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.

Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”

“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.

“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.

“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”

“I want you to go to sleep.”

You blink at him.

“Okay…?”

“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.

“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”

You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”

He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”

“Rest and water will do me fine-.”

“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.

Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:

“I do.”

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”

You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.

For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.

Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.

“I am sure.”

The next day unfolded much like the one before it.

Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.

Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.

But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.

“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.

“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.

Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”

“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”

For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.

“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"

Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”

Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.

Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.

You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"

“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”

Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.

“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.

“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.

Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.

As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.

As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.

In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.

Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.

At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.

But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.

So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.

“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.

He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

���Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”

He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”

“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”

Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”

You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.

You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.

And he did.

Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…

Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.

You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.

Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.

Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”

But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.

The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.

Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.

“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.

“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.

Masterlist is pinned😊

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[howcouldmuffin]

Drought.

In a relationship with him feels like being in hell, so you shouldn’t ever go back there again.

PAIRING : Modern!Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

WARNING : NSFW, Modern AU, Toxic Relationships, Open Relationships, Mentions about the use of alcohol and drugs, Sex Content

AN : I had a lot of fun writing drama for these characters, and as always, I hope you enjoy this piece. Love.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

You glance at your watch again. It’s 8:14 PM, and there’s still no sign of your boyfriend. Not even a shadow. How many times has he been late like this? You feel like crying right here in the middle of the café, but it would be pointless.

After sitting a while longer, you see the person you’ve been waiting for rush into the café. There’s a red mark on his neck, clearly a kiss, and he smiles at you without the slightest hint of guilt. You’re furious at his attitude, as if he has no idea how much you want to scream at him.

“Sorry I’m late, babe.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kiera wanted help picking out her outfit for the party tonight.”

Seriously? He’s using the new friend he met just a month ago as an excuse, when you’ve been telling him about this movie for half a year. Heaven help you, you’ve never felt so invisible.

“I told you not to be late, but you still managed to do it.” you say sternly. “I should have never expected anything better from someone like you, Gwayne.”

“I’m sorry.” he replies. “Why don’t you go see the movie alone? You should’ve known I’d be late anyway.”

“The tickets are with you, idiot.” you snap, gathering your things from the table and standing up to leave.

“Oh, and Alicent asked me to remind you about dinner with her family tomorrow. Make sure to pick her up before you go.” With that, you walk out of the café, fuming that he can’t even manage his time between his friends properly. Prioritizing is clearly not his strong suit.

Before long, you realize that tears are streaming down your face. You didn’t want to cry over this again. Realizing that you might not be important to him hurts deeply, and lately, your conversations with him have dwindled. You barely even talk on the phone anymore. Are you two still even together?

"Really? I can't believe he's late all the time, but when it comes to family dinners, he's always punctual." Alicent, says.

"For heaven's sake, was he late again?" Rhaenyra adds.

"And what am I supposed to do? He's just like that." you grumble. "It would be nice if he could show up on time more often." As you finish speaking, you notice your classmate walking into the cafeteria, and since there are a few things you need to discuss with him, you quickly get up and walk over.

"Theo, do you have a minute? I wanted to talk about Professor Flint's assignment." you say. You've been paired with him for group work several times, and besides Rhaenyra's group, he's probably the person you're closest to.

"Sure! But let me grab a coffee first, then we can head to the library to chat."

"Sounds good, I need to return a book there anyway." you reply. "I'll be right back, I just need to grab my bag." Theo nods in agreement, and you quickly head back to your table to get your bag. You find your boyfriend sitting there, chatting with your friends. Ignoring him might not be the best move, but you're not in the mood to talk to him right now.

"Where are you going?" Gwayne asks.

"I'm working with a friend." you reply, reaching for your bag, but he grabs it first. "Gwayne, give it back, my friend's waiting."

"The guy with glasses?" He holds your bag behind him, refusing to give it back.

"Yes. Now, can you return my bag?"

"I'll give it back if you agree to have dinner with my family tonight." he says, clearly more concerned with getting his way than with your schedule. You can't believe you agreed to date this guy.

"I have work to do this evening." you say, trying to grab your bag from behind him, but he doesn't let go easily. "Gwayne!"

"Come on, there's still time to finish Professor Flint's assignment. You should come with us." Alicent chimes in, trying to persuade you on her brother's behalf. You sigh deeply before finally agreeing to go with the two siblings. At last, you get your bag back.

"If you're late to pick me up, you're not getting away with it."

It's another time you find yourself waiting for him at this restaurant. Today is your birthday. You’re hoping he’s just caught up with something or stuck in traffic. You don’t want to think that he might have forgotten this important day. You glance at the watch on your wrist again.

There’s less than an hour before the restaurant closes, but the person you’re longing to see is still nowhere to be found. Maybe waiting a bit longer won’t hurt. Maybe he’s just busy and is on his way to you.

“Excuse me, our restaurant is about to close. Would you like to take the remaining food home?” a waiter asks, noticing that the food on your table has barely been touched.

“No, thank you.” You nod, stand up, and leave the restaurant, unsure of what to say or do next. Just as you step outside, you see your boyfriend approaching the restaurant, and you decide to walk away before he can see you—but unfortunately, he catches sight of you.

“Don’t go, babe! Wait!” He hurries over to you. “I’m so sorry, I forgot about our date.” he says, stopping right in front of you.

“Do you even remember what day it is today?”

“What day?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s my birthday.”

His face immediately falls. Damn it. Tears well up in your eyes, and finally, they start to spill over. Seeing this, he reaches out to wipe your tears, but you push his hand away.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, babe. I messed up, I know.”

“Is that all you can say, Gwayne?” you cry.

“I just thought you usually celebrate with your family or your friends—”

“So is it wrong that I wanted to celebrate my birthday with my boyfriend? Is it wrong that sometimes I can do things on my own, but I just wanted to do it with my boyfriend? I’m your girlfriend, Gwayne. Am I still your girlfriend?” you sob, your voice trembling as the tears run down your cheeks.

“Maybe the importance I give to you, I just thought that—” you hiccup.

“No, babe, no. Don’t say that,” he says, stepping closer and trying to hold your face to make you look at him.

“I just thought… maybe we should go back to being just friends. That would match the level of importance I seem to have for you.”

He tries to hug you, but you push him away. He starts to say all sorts of things, but you’re not ready to listen to any of it. You’ve cared about his feelings too much, to the point of neglecting your own. You’ve prioritized him too much, more than yourself. You just need a break. You just want to stop this for a while.

It's been weeks since you last replied to any of his messages. You avoid him every time you see him in the hallway, and you've been hiding out in your room, not going out with friends. You know this isn't the right way to handle things, but you just don't want to face him or anyone else who might ask you about him.

You find it incredibly difficult to accept that you no longer have any status with Gwayne. It's hard to pretend that you don’t care about him anymore, even though you still love him deeply. But you're hurt by the way he treated you, hurt by the lack of importance he placed on you. It feels like you're dying a little inside every time you see his face.

“Do you really think avoiding him is a good way to deal with this?” Rhaenyra asks, as she listens to the professor's lecture in class. “Alicent told me he’s been going out every night, coming back drunk and smelling like women’s perfume every time.”

“What are you trying to say, Nyra?” you turn to her. “If he can forget about me quickly and finally live the life he wants, then that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you know? He calls out your name every time he comes home, and he asks about you whenever he sees us.”

“Why don’t you just answer his questions for your friend?” you reply. “Just tell him whatever. He’ll be fine without me, even if he’s not sleeping with me anymore.”

“But—”

“The professor is going to ask a question, Nyra, if you don’t stop.” you cut her off. She goes quiet, turning her attention back to the lecture, just as you said.

After class ends, you rush to pack up your things and wait for the right moment, when everyone is leaving the room, to sneak out and avoid your ex, who is waiting for you outside.

“Get dressed. I’m picking you up tonight.” Rhaenyra says suddenly. “You can’t miss the party tonight.”

“But—”

“If you don’t come, I’m not talking to you again, ever.” Then she walks away, leaving you with no room to argue.

You glance at the mirror in your room. You're wearing a fitted grey mini dress under a thick black jacket, paired with patterned black tights and black high-heeled boots. Your hair is beautifully curled, but you still decide to bring along a red hat.

Rhaenyra was right. Hiding away and staying in your room forever isn't the right way to handle things. So, you decide to take a step forward, an important one. But before you can think too much about it, your phone buzzes with an incoming call from Rhaenyra. She must be outside your house by now. You answer the call and tell her you're coming down. After one last check in the mirror, you wish yourself good luck.

When you arrive at the party, the music is overwhelming, mingling with the voices of countless people indulging in drinks or something else to escape into their imagination. Nyra leads you to a sofa in the middle of the party, where people are already waiting, including Gwayne.

"You're late." Alicent says. "And once again, you're the most stunning person here." She looks at you and invites you to sit beside her on the sofa. Your ex has been staring at you non-stop since you walked into the room, making you more than a little nervous.

"I'll go get us some drinks." Alicent says, getting up and walking away. You silently hope that Rhaenyra won't leave you alone too, but fate always has a way of testing you.

"Well, I'm going to grab something to eat." your friend says. "I'll bring something back for you." And with that, she walks off.

Now, it's just you and Gwayne left sitting there, exactly as you'd feared. He moves over to sit next to you, and you slide away until you're at the edge of the sofa, but he just moves closer. You eventually stop trying to get away.

"You look amazing tonight." he compliments you. "So stunning that I'm completely blown away."

"Thanks!" you reply curtly, picking up your phone and pretending to do something, though you have no idea what app to open. It’s hard to think straight when someone is staring at you so intently.

"Can you please stop staring? I don't like it."

"Okay, okay." he nods and looks away. "Want to dance to a song?" He turns back to you. Seriously? Can't he take a hint that you’re not in the mood to talk?

"No, and don't follow me." You stand up and walk around the party, receiving smiles from some people who then turn back to their conversations. What's so interesting about your relationship anyway? You wander around but don’t see any sign of your friend.

You decide to grab a drink and something to eat. The party is still in full swing, with everyone riding high on hormones. Some are even close to throwing up, but thankfully, you dodge them in time. Eventually, you find a quiet spot where you can use your phone without being disturbed.

After a few hours, you notice that the crowd is thinning out, and you start spotting your friends. You decide to step out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Looking down, you see the pool area filled with intoxicated people, some of them passionately making out.

You hear someone walk up beside you. At first, you don’t pay attention until you notice the eyes watching you.

“Nice night, isn’t it?” Gwayne says, pulling something out of his pocket.

“You smoke?” you ask. “Since when did you start smoking again?” Your concern slips out before you can stop yourself.

“For a while now.” he replies.

“You quit before. Why start again?” you turn to him, not understanding why he’d want to hurt himself like that.

“No one’s around to stop me.”

“Then stop yourself.”

“Why don’t you come back and stop me?” He leans in closer, and closer still. You don’t move away like your mind tells you to, but you don’t respond to him either. When his lips meet yours, your body responds instantly, craving the familiar taste. You can't deny how much you want him too.

Not sure what kind of new beginning you want, you lean in and kiss him passionately on the bed. As you settle around him, you hold his face gently, ensuring he remains close to you. Slowly, you grind against him, feeling the firm pressure beneath your hips, your movements deliberate and intoxicating.

Gwayne squeezes your hips, it makes you cry out, seals with his mars on your buttocks, you gently rub his neck to the abdomen tightly with his muscles and stiffness under your hips.

He took his hand off your butt to the area of your chest. “No bra?” He rubbed his finger around your nipple. It made you moan a little. You slowly move yourself from him and move down to the bottom.

“It's very hard” you stroking the center of his torso, touching it slowly and knowing the suffering caused by yourself.

“It's just like this with you.”

“Lie” you swipe down his pants, his cock almost bounces off your face.

Even if you see it often, it's not used to its size.You slowly use your hand to rub it up and down slowly, his voice moans a little before kissing it around the head and using your tongue to lick at that point over and over again, using your hand to rub it up and down faster than the same rhythm before you suck it a little and use your tongue to play with it again.

“That's it, baby.” You speed up your hand more and more and more of your ton to lick around it. He finally cums out in your mouth. He took a tissue paper by the bed to support it for you to spit it out.

“Good girl.” as you're dealing with yourself, he kisses your neck and then chases after your collarbone, and makes a kiss mark on your body as if it were a work of art.

Gwayne slowly pushes you to lie down on the bed. He pulls your dress up to your waist. He plays with the crevice in the middle of your body. You open your mouth. He knows your body too well.

He finally pulls out your panties and tights slowly and it makes you very horny, he uses his hands to separate your legs and lick to your cunt, fingering your clit, your moaning is loud all over the room.

He starts to fuck you by inserting his finger, from the first finger to the second finger, you feel the pressure, but it also feels really good, he starts to move his finger in and out more quickly, and his tongue licks your clit, you grab his head, expressing your feelings.

He makes you like going to heaven, your hips are slowly rising along his mouth and fingers, you finally twitch and orgasm, he licks every drop that comes out.

“You're so sweet.” he said. “next to start entering the real game, beautiful.”

He took off your dress and squeezed your chest slowly and licked it to your nipples intently, you could feel the hardness dragging along your crevices, it almost lost your mind, you opened your mouth and moaned to the heaven he gave.

He slowly put it in. "It's very tight." Your moaning is both coordinated. His cock went deep in the point that will definitely make you can’t walk. Your legs are shaking and losing control. But your consciousness is almost no longer left. It's all white in your opinion.

His hips hit your hips and it's getting faster and faster. Your eyes meet, and with a shared, unspoken desire, you both lean in and kiss deeply once more.

The lewd sound is loud all over the room. Your legs are intertwined. Hold the one above you tightly. He broke the kiss and moved down to leave a mark on your neck, one that everyone will definitely notice tomorrow.

"Gods! Gwayne-" His speed was faster, he grabbed it to your waist and grabbed it, slamming fearlessly in pain.

“Together” you nodded in response to him, he finally cums, he pushed his hips even deeper and his seeds flowed into you, you and he kissed again, a fiery and intoxicating embrace that left both of you breathless.

You get up, your legs visibly trembling. You slowly adjust your outfit and head to the bathroom for a personal moment. Before long, you come out and put your underwear back on where it belongs.

“You should stay here.” Gwayne says as he puts on his shirt. “I really want to hold you.”

“No, we’re not anything.” you reply.

“Do you want me to show you again?”

“Gross, Gwayne.” You decide to lie back down on the bed.

“What’s better than falling asleep with sweet dreams and holding my girlfriend?” He lies down beside you and hugs you tightly.

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Then forgive me, and we can get back together.”

“I’ll never forgive you until you change, Gwayne.”

“As you command, princess.” He kisses your cheek, and you both fall asleep.

[kurokawaia]

❛ UM, WHAT? ❜

Yandere! Illumi Zoldyck X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE CONTENT |

WC; 1.5k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: in the pre timeskip, i imagine it to be younger illumi there (so when he's around 18-19 and has the short hair), reader is aslo 17-18 before the timeskip. after the timeskip illumi is 26 and you are 25, stalking!!! death

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you pls write yandere illumi who has been stalking reader for years now, he finally decides to make his move, bumps into you, casually invites you for a date. But as you start talking to him, he's so in love and obsessed he lets creepy things slip during casual conversation eg. Reader: yeah I go to dance classes, though recently I haven't been enjoying them as much because our teacher keeps complaing about his life problems! Can you believe it! And Illumi replies "Yes, that idiot should've left his cheating wife months ago haha" and Reader's like, how did you know that *sweats* Anyway just creepy illumi pls:3 - ANON

m.list | hxh m.list

You were just a high school student when you first noticed him, but only just briefly.

It was one of those ordinary days, but if only you had paid more attention to how this man looked, maybe your life would have turned out different. The man you noticed had quite noticeable features: tall, solemn, a young man who watched you across the street with a curious expression you quickly ignored.

He was dressed in a simple jacket and slack pants, though, his eyes were pericing into your back. You were scared, more or less, the way he was observing you.

With just a headshake, you pretty much forgot the man in your mind, manipulating yourself that he isn't looking at me.

Illumi took an interest in you, for what reason, he did not know. You were just some average girl, not an assassin, and more than likely didn't even know how to use Nen. But you caught his eye.

Your simple life and usual happenings were so different to his own so much that his curiosity was piqued. You looked so innocent that he wanted to taint you to something darker. 

It wasn't very long before curiosity did turn darker and into something more obsessive. 

He started following you more often, always remaining out of your field of sight, and never once approaching you directly. He learned your schedule, your favorite spots, and your friends. He watched over one like a ghost through every mundane task, every joyful moment, and every sorrowful sigh.

Years passed, and that addiction only grew bigger and bigger. The feel of watching you, the satisfaction of knowing everything that happened in your life, made him feel good.

You were his secret obsession, his hidden treasure that no one else could touch.

Then, it happened. You walked down that street, busy with your thoughts, when he decided the time was right. Casually, as if he had suddenly bumped into you, he came towards you. His heart racing from the thrill not of the encounter but of just revealing himself a little.

"Pardon me," he said, his tone silky. You looked up with a jerk since his sudden appearance had startled you. There was something unsettling in the way that he stared at you, yet it was cloaked by a polite smile. "I couldn't help but notice you. We've crossed paths before, haven't we?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you made yourself smile. "I don't think so," you said, trying to keep the subject light.

You had this feeling that you had met this man before but couldn't place with who he was and where you had seen him.

"Perhaps not," he replied lightly, shrugging. "I guess I was mistaken. My name is Illumi. I'd like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in going out sometime?"

"Um, sure," you said hesitantly, unable to shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong but unable to refuse the polite request. "When would you like to. go out?"

"Would now be okay?" he asks with a tilt of his head, his height was towering over you, you noticed.

"Um, sure," you replied, unable to say no.

You both set off toward a small café in town. You arrived a few minutes early, trying to rid yourself of that strange feeling from earlier. Illumi showed up a little afterwards, his presence still had that air of dread hanging about him which made you uncomfortable, but his smile was warm and inviting.

As you guys settled into your corner booth, you tried to focus on the pleasant atmosphere. Illumi made small talk, his voice smooth and nice. You found yourself slowly opening up, talking about your daily life.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" Illumi asked, never his eyes leaving your face.

Not that he knew of, anyway.

"Well, I've been going to dance classes," you said.

He already knew that.

"Though lately, I haven't really been enjoying them as much. Our teacher just keeps bitching about all his life problems. Can you believe it?"

Illumi's eyes gleamed, "Yes, that idiot really ought to have left his cheating wife months ago. It's pathetic how he drags his personal drama into his classes. Haha."

You felt your heart skip a beat and you froze in shock from his response. "How-how did you know about that?" you stuttered. "I've never told anyone."

Illumi's smile picked up. "Oh, I have my ways," he said smoothly. "I pay attention to the details, you know. It's just a shame he's so miserable. I suppose that's why he hasn't been able to focus on teaching properly."

You tried to compose yourself, forcing a nervous laugh. "Well, I guess you're right. It's just frustrating sometimes."

Illumi nodded, still with that unnerving stare. "I understand. Must be hard on you, dealing with his problems besides your own. I'm sure you are doing your best."

You tried to smile, though the unease in your chest was growing. "Thanks. I guess it just feels like everything's piling up lately."

Illumi's eyes flashed, nay flared, with an eerie serious intent. "Is there anything else bothering you? Perhaps something outside of dance class?"

You felt a little cornered by the intensity of his gaze and hesitated before continuing, "Well, there's this guy at work who's been bothering me. He keeps making these inappropriate comments, trying to corner me whenever I'm alone. It's really unsettling."

Illumi's face clouded for a moment, his frown deepening as he registered your words. "I see," he said slowly. "I didn't realize this. nuisance," he grumbled to himself, cursing himself on how he could have missed something like that in your daily life.

He thought you didn't hear what he said, but you did. A chill ran down your spine at the way he said it.

You hastily tried to change the subject with the urge to get away from the intensity in his gaze. "But enough about that. I'm glad we could meet today. It has been nice talking to you."

Illumi's smile picked up once more, but didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes, it has been. I enjoyed our time together."

You got to your feet, collecting your things and moving to leave. Illumi followed suit, escorting you to the door of the café. Outside, both of you stepped into the cool evening air, you noticed him freeze for a moment, his eyes set on something far off.

Almost as if he was gauging what move to take next.

"Well, it's time to say goodbye for now, I suppose," you said, forcing cheerfulness into your voice.

Illumi smiled reassuringly but there was something beneath that made you scared. "Indeed. I look forward to the next time we meet."

And so you went off in opposite directions, you homeward. You had walked a way when you couldn't rid the feeling that Illumi had looked at you just one beat longer than he needed to.

Later that night, Illumi sat with reflections upon his mind, bothered by the new information about the man that's been bothering you. How could he have missed this-one nuisance? 

He prides himself on how well he watches over you and has always been fully aware of your every move.

This guy slipped under his watchful eye, and that irked him.

Illumi's face darkened as he made his way to the place where you worked. He found the man who had been harassing you. Getting ready to leave for the night, the man didn't notice Illumi approach him.

The man was turning around, startled by the sudden appearance of the tall stranger. Before he could even utter another word, Illumi's hand had closed tightly around his throat. His eyes widened into a fearful expression as Illumi's voice, in low tone.

"You have caused my precious one unnecessary distress," Illumi said softly, his tone chilling. "For which you shall pay the price."

Illumi made sure the man would never utter another word ever again, his movements calculated and cold. 

The threat to you was gone, and your world would never be disrupted by anyone else other than him. 

No one was ever to come between him and the object of his obsession.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[maybe-moonchild]

5/29/2014

WC: 5.3k

Strawberry vodka lemonade was your liquid courage. 

It was what drove you to excuse yourself from under Trent Warren's arm that was thrown over your shoulders. Your friends boo’d you from across the pong table, but you were already slipping away. 

Flash’s living room was stuffy, the entirety of Midtown High’s senior class packed inside, bodies spilling into the backyard. It had been your requirement that all seniors be invited to the party. No one left out, no hurt feelings, or unwelcome to the celebration. 

After all, you had all graduated today. 

Peter’s head was easy to spot as he pushed through the crowd and towards the back door. He’d always been tall and lanky but, sometime during high school, he’d filled out. It wasn’t weird that you’d noticed. Everyone had noticed. Come on… how could you not?

Your grip on your solo cup tightened as you maneuvered through party goers that were too drunk to notice where you were going. Maybe no one cared anymore. Now that everyone was graduating and moving on to what was hoped to be bigger and better. 

Who peaked in high school wouldn’t matter. Who dated who, slept behind their friends' ex was no longer important. Who punched who in the face over a rumor that someone started would be forgotten and replaced with newer and shinier memories.

You just knew that you would never be able to forget Peter Parker. 

Thinking was easier once you’d stepped outside. Without the overwhelming stimulation, your eyes and ears adjusted to the quiet and lack of flashing lights. You searched every face, standing on your toes and straining to catch him before he was gone for good. You managed to get a glimpse of the back of his head before he disappeared around the side of the house. 

You called out,  “Hey!”

Grass tickled the soles of your feet as you jogged to catch up. Your sandals had been forgotten somewhere in Flash’s room from when you’d helped set up his place to host the party. What was more important was that you managed to catch him. 

Peter was right at your fingertips. 

At the sound of your voice, Peter hesitated. Like he was debating whether he should stop and turn around or just keep going all the way home. But he stopped. 

It took him even longer to actually turn around. 

Neither of you said anything for a few long seconds. You were nervous- the most nervous you had felt in a long time now that you were standing closer to him than you had in longer than you could remember. More nervous than cheerleading tryouts freshman year when Nancy Lewis, the captain, had it out for you but you made the team anyway. More nervous than when you clicked submit on your NYU application 7 months ago. 

You gave him a timid smile, “Hey.” That one word dripped with everything and nothing all at the same time. Years of dependency and avoidance all rolled into one. 

His teeth chewed at the inside of his lip and he paused long enough to make your smile falter.

“Hi.”

It was awkward; the kind of quiet that no one is sure how to fill. Clearing your throat and squaring your shoulders, you relied on the strawberry vodka to carry you through.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight. I mean, I didn’t think you would.” you practically blurted the words out just so you wouldn’t lose your nerve. Shaking your head, you try to relax. “Not in a bad way. Just… you usually don’t, but I’m glad you did-”

“I didn’t plan on coming.

That time, your smile really faltered. His eyes were hard but the second he saw your expression, he felt guilty and quickly looked away. It was harder for you to recover this time. 

“I’m glad you did.” The strawberry vodka coated the words and stung your tongue. At least taking a sip of your drink gave you something to do as you thought. 

You took a breath and tried again. 

“We haven’t… Well, we haven’t really talked in a while. So… I was- well I was hoping to run into you again. Since we graduated and all,” you stumbled through. Even if you sounded awkward, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You just wanted to try.

Peter didn’t know what to say to that. He was trying really hard to be nice but, god, it was harder than he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t like he was a mean person. It wasn’t even that he wanted to be mean to you but something about your unsure smile made him want to tear it down. 

He can’t exactly say, ‘I don’t want to look at you’ or ‘I was hoping to have evaded you entirely, gone off to school and tried to forget your existence that always seems to be pressing on the back of my skull even when you’re nowhere near’. 

So he settled for something neutral, a little vague.

“Yeah.” 

He swallowed, nodding slowly before tearing his eyes from the ground and finally meeting your gaze. A nervous tic took hold of his forehead and he rubbed it idly like he could somehow rub away the scowl threatening to slip through. He fought the urge to run by shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to run into me,” he muttered and you just shrugged lamely. If you talked right now, your voice might’ve cracked. Yet again, you focussed your tipsy brain on keeping the smile up. 

Peter couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t help but shove his hands into his front pockets and add, “Considering you didn’t want anything to do with me for the past four years.”

The smile fell off your face. It didn’t come back. 

His words did what he intended: hurt you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep down the scoff burning in your throat.

“That’s not true and you know it,” you argued.  “I never replaced you. I might have made other friends but that didn’t mean I just cut you out.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he muttered, an edge creeping into his tone as he stared at you intensely. He wanted to see you hurt but the only reaction you gave was the twitch of a muscle in your neck.

Peter was pissed off.  He was pissed off that he wasn’t good enough. That you chose others over him. That he’d  never been enough. That maybe he never would be. 

Peter did a bad job at feigning indifference. The jerky movements and harshness of his voice gave away that he wasn’t all that detached like he was trying to seem. You could tell considering you still knew his mannerisms like you had four years ago. 

When you said nothing, he couldn’t help but keep going. Alcohol didn’t have the same effect on him ever since he got bit by that spider two years ago. Not like he’d been a big drinker before then anyway; Peter wasn’t exactly making it to the top of the guest lists. Booze metabolized too quickly in his system for it to do anything besides give him a brief buzz and a three minute hangover. 

But when Ned had begged and pleaded (like literally on his knees and gripping the bottom of Peter’s shirt because ‘it was the last high school party he could attend to try and woo Katie into elopement), Peter couldn't say no. So he really tried to keep as heavy a buzz going as humanly possible.

It worked. Maybe a bit too well. 

Which was why he was drunk and wouldn’t shut up.

“You always had plans with other people, always busy with cheerleading or making rounds to different tables at lunch after sitting with me for five minutes. I’d be lucky if I got to walk to a class with you.”

“That’s not how it went and you know it,” you countered with a step forward. 

“Just admit you traded up. That you got exactly what you wanted.”

You stopped short, the close proximity between you two feeling like two opposite ends of magnets.Your breathing was a little rapid, pink flushing your cheeks from the alcohol. Or it could just be the blood rushing to your face from anger because, yeah… you were mad. 

“And what would that be? What exactly was it that I wanted, Peter?”

It was the booze, that’s what you both told yourselves. That the bottle of rum you’d giggled into with Flash and Katie as people started arriving was finally hitting you full force. That the beers he’d choked down just so he had something to occupy his mouth with instead of talking during the party had him chatty now.

Alcohol seeped beneath the hard exterior of everything you’d been sitting on for the past four years as it all bubbled to the surface. 

“Really?” He leaned in closer, the citrusy vodka strong on his breath. Peter's eyes flickered around your face like he was looking for the truth. “Who was the one that always said it would be you and I against the world? How many nights did I crawl in your window when you were too scared to be home alone and your parents were at a conference?”

When you didn’t have the answer, Peter leaned a little closer.

“How many times did you show up late to the movies an hour late because practice ran long?  How many times did you invite a new friend along to our plans that only acknowledged my existence because you made them? How many times did I help you with your homework because you let some moron quarterback keep you up all night and you forgot?”

“Are you serious right now?” It was the most you’d raised your voice the entire conversation. 

“I’m just saying,” Peter shrugged. He raised his hands in surrender, nothing sincere about the action. 

“Just saying what? That I’m a whore?”

Peter's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. His scowl dropped to shock. “No!” That was certainly not what he was saying. Not ever!

“Well, that’s kinda what it’s sounding like,” you snapped. 

“Well, that's not what I- I’m not saying that. I’d never say that-” he cuts himself off with a huff. “I’m just saying that- I was there. For you. I was there for you.”

The hole he was digging himself in just kept getting bigger and bigger. If he was lucky, he could crawl inside and bury himself in it like a grave. Lay to rest all the thoughts of you that had been sitting in his head so long they’d practically atrophied into his brain tissue. 

The statement made you feel defensive, arms folding over your chest like you could protect yourself from his words. Scowling, your fingers flexed on the half filled solo cup, the plastic crinkling under your fingers. Even though it was late May

“What has that even got to do with anything,” you cried out in frustration. Even though it was just the two of you out in the open yard, it felt harder to breathe out there compared to the cramped party inside. 

You still didn’t get it. The realization was agonizing, that you just didn’t understand what that had to do with everything. 

He stopped thinking entirely. 

So without  thought, he stepped forward, cupping your face in his hands and towering over you. 

“Because I was jealous, you idiot.” 

There's a deafening quiet once those words are out into the world. He could never take them back. You could never truly pretend you’d never heard them.

His eyes bored into yours, big and brown as their intensity slipped to distress, his breath rushing over your mouth. You were so still that you weren’t sure your heart was beating. If you really thought about it, you would easily be able to put together why he would be jealous of some football player having your attention for a week or two before you got bored. 

If you actually thought it through, you would have to accept that he didn’t just feel resentment for you. 

Suddenly, the hum of anger that had been buzzing in your body is replaced by something else entirely. Something you cant quite place or name or- fuck, you dont even know if you want to know what it is.

Peter's whole body wanted to sag, to sink down into your touch and just give himself a moment to simply be. To just be with you without the entire weight of the world weighing down his shoulders, without having an explosion hanging between you two like a cloud. 

His heart was racing in his chest, thudding so hard it hurts as it slams against his ribs. Peter stared at you with disbelief, the booze having stunted his own thinking. 

You were so beautiful, so damn beautiful with your cheeks flushed pink and your parted lips. Your eyes wide and bright as they remain locked with his own because neither of you could seem to look at anything else. Maybe there was nothing else worth looking at. 

His thumb stroked your cheek, his voice faltering as he leaned closer, 

“This,” he says and pulls your face closer.

You went  rigid for barely a second when his lips pressed against yours. It wasn’t like it was the first time you’d ever kissed him either; in fact, it was the third time. 

You had just never thought you would do it again. It was why you didn’t think, you just moved. 

Kissing Peter was almost instinctive. 

Your eyes fell shut but it didn’t make you any less aware of every single detail about him. The solidness of his forearms that your fingers were curled around as you leaned into him. How 

Strawberry vodka and Peter Parker had to be the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

If you thought you were drunk before, you might as well have blacked out now. You were even drunker on the feel of his hands moving to tangle in your hair, the swipe of his tongue on your lips. When he deepened the kiss, it made you stumble back in the grass. He kept you upright, going until he had your back pressed against the siding Flash’s house. 

If you were able to think, you’d think this was stupid. 

Not thinking sounded a fuck lot better than acknowledging that. 

A sound of protest died in the back of your throat when he removed his hands before they’re back on you. They found their way under your thighs in an instant, hiking them around his waist like you weighed nothing. It surprised you enough that you gasped into his mouth. You looped your arms around his neck for both support- but also so your fingers can twist and tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. 

How long had Peter wanted this? 

When he was nine, he wanted to hold your hand, to sit pressed up against you when you watched cartoons or link arms as he pulled you around the street on his skateboard. After he kissed you the summer before sixth grade, he wanted to do it again. Nothing more than pressing his lips to yours and pulling away after a second. At fourteen, he still didn’t really get the whole kissing thing. 

Then he dated Gwen Stacy all of junior year and half of senior year. Gwen was amazing. She was kind and brilliant, her spot at the top of the class securing her spot in Oxford which meant she would be moving to another country at the start of fall. When he acceptance letter came, Gwen and Peter’s breakup was amicable and they’d spent the last few months easily falling into friendship. 

So maybe it was around then that he was able to put a name to what he thought about when you crossed his mind. Of kissing you with everything in him, burying his face into your neck, holding you the same way you held him when Ben died. 

You deepened the kiss when he groaned, fingers pressing harder into the flesh of your thighs and you nipped at his bottom lip in response. It was hard to focus once he’d moved his hands when they were touching anywhere they could. 

Cupping your face, gripping your waist, tangling in your hair, resting on your neck. You could barely keep up but he didn’t care when he finally got to feel you. 

It was a stupid night, a stupid moment, a stupid everything.  Neither of you cared.  

The two of you pulled each other close and closer, the heat of the moment drowning out the voices of reason in your head.  

It felt so right. Nothing but your lips on his in the night and the sound of the party a million miles away.

Over your high school career, you’d been on some dates, had some flings with different variances of the same kind of asshole. The ones you’d kiss, or more, were nothing like this. 

 Not even kissing Trent Warren felt like this- Fuck. 

Why did you have to think?

“Oh my god,” you breathed out once you managed to pull away. Your hands flew to cover your swollen lips, eyes wide and frantic. Peter let you pull away even if it hurt him. 

Confused, he gently set you on the ground once you unlocked your legs from around his middle. Your shaky hands shoved the hair out of your face, pressing a palm against your forehead in shock. 

It wasn’t like you were dating Trent. That was never going to happen, you were satisfied with the little fling the two of you were likely going to carry out for some of the summer before he left for college. 

You didn’t even freaking like him that much so it didn’t even have anything to do with the star of the soccer team at all. 

But this? It felt like you were taking advantage of Peter- not because of your mutual intoxication but because…

You weren’t sure, okay? All you knew was that there was a reason, so deep down into your brain, that you couldn’t grasp it. 

This was all wrong. You were both drunk. Tensions were high. Neither of you were thinking clearly. Both of you made mistakes that you will regret the moment your hangover hits in the morning. 

Just like that. His heart fell to his stomach as he watched you look around, searching for anyone that might’ve seen the two of you tangled together.  He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Everything was happening so fast.

Swallowing, he said your name so softly it was almost hidden by the loud shriek and splash in the pool around the side of the house. Neither you or Peter even flinched at the sound. When you didn’t speak, the backs of his fingers found your chin, gently lifting your eyes to his. 

“Leave him.”

“What?” You practically blurted the word out. If you didn’t think your eyes could get wider, you’d be wrong. Your hands fell to your sides to hang limply and useless and the abruptness almost made you reel back. It feels like he’s just said something absolutely preposterous, like he’s Spiderman or something. 

"Leave him," Peter repeats. Pleading, his eyes searching yours. “you’re too good for him. You always have been.”

It’s so stupid but Peter’s heart had always known. He had always wanted you. He has just never been dumb enough to do anything about.

Until now, he guessed.

You leaned away from his hand to make space as you slipped around him. His body turned with yours but you weren’t doing it to get away. You just couldn’t stand being stuck between him and the wall you’d just been pressed up against. You paced, shaky hands pressing against the heat on your face. 

“We’re drunk,” you tried to rationalize with a wave of your hands. “Neither of us knows what we’re doing… or saying.”

His heart sank even further with each word. 

Peter nodded curtly in agreement, “We are drunk.”

But deep down he knows better.

He wanted this. Always. 

He wanted you. Always. 

“But I still mean it.”

You halted to a stop so fast that you nearly tripped on your own feet. Peter knows he's pushing the line, doing something they can't come back from but he has to know. There was no sign that this was all a joke. 

“Peter,” your voice was thick with desperation. “You can’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“No. You can’t.”

His eyes met yours, determination unwavering. He wanted you too much for his own sanity. “You can’t kiss me like that and say it doesn’t mean anything.” Because it did. It meant something to him.

The only reason you bit down on your lip was because he was right. You couldn’t say it didn’t mean anything. Not when you kissed him back the way you did. You twisted your shaky hands into the fabric of your dress like it would somehow give you some semblance of control over the way your head feels like it was going to explode. 

“Pete.” The nickname fell from your lips like it had millions of times. You don’t know what to tell him. You didn’t think there was anything you could say to fix things like you’d hoped to when you chased him down. Not when his expression was so desperate to hear what he wanted. 

“You were my best friend-” you started in the hopes of explaining but just shook his head and laughed. The sharp and bitter sound was enough for you to cut yourself off. 

“Right, right, of course.” He looked away, staring off into the dark yard. You looked as hopeless as you felt. 

"Can you just..." you stepped forward, barely moving closer but trying nonetheless. "I didn't... I wanted to fix things. I wanted to make things better."

The sound of your voice cracking at the end made his heart lurch. Peter actually managed to peeked up at you from the corner of his eyes because. Looking at you directly would burn like looking directly at the sun. The sound of your voice broke at the end, the crack making his heart lurch.

“Make what better? I thought you were perfect,” Peter snapped quietly. His head turned away from you again so he didn’t have to see the damage of his words. 

That hurt, cut through your chest and forced you to inhale sharply. It just made the lump in your throat so much worse. 

You focused on anything else as you blinked hard. Fresh cut grass, the sugary vodka still clouding your senses, and whatever floral Bath&BodyWorks perfume Katie had doused you both in earlier. All too overwhelming and not overwhelming enough. 

"You know it's never been like that." Squaring your shoulders, you triked again. "It's never... You know I never wanted you out of my life. That it was never about  picking you or them. I tried to do both. You're the one that pulled away."

Peter just scoffed again, shaking his head like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Your mouth snapped shut in, trembling lips pressed tightly together. 

“Maybe I was sick of waiting for you to remember the loser across the street that used to be your friend.” 

Your jaw practically dropped at the implication that you would ever think that. Something about the way he said it made it feel like it had come from your own mouth. You clenched your hands into fists at your sides. 

“I never thought that,” you shot back, mouth still hung open in disbelief. “You were the one that pulled away when I had more than just you in my life.”

Peter scoffed but you keep going. 

“I invited you to games so that you would watch me cheer and you made it clear you would rather die than go. If I tried to stop by at your place after practice, you would tell May to pretend you weren’t home.”

Peter had never been all that great at sharing you. 

Before you moved in across the street, he’d started approaching that age where he realized that he didn’t have all that many friends. Aunt May was always hinting at him to invite kids in his grade over after school and Uncle Ben didn’t understand why Peter wouldn’t, at the very least, try a sport for a single week. 

Then you moved in across the street and he had a best friend that he could do everything with. Even when you played with other kids, you always came skipping back over to his house the second you got home. Sometimes you even dragged him along with you. 

When high school approached, he’d been more concerned with getting lost or failing his classes. 

You were more concerned with being singled out as a target or being lost on the outside. 

Everything was fine between you two until the second week of school. Wait, that wasn’t true. You hadn’t actually done anything wrong but when he walked into school that morning, expecting you to be waiting at his locker for his arrival, you weren’t. Instead, you were on the other side of the hall, chatting excitedly with two girls on your cheer team. 

Deep down, he had known you were talking to them to pass the time while you waited for him to arrive. 

But when you didn’t notice his presence the entire time it took for Peter to open his locker, exchange his things, and walk towards his class, he’d held it against you. Just like he held it against you when asked if your weekly movie night could be rescheduled to Thursdays because Fridays were gamedays. Or how, you were okay when some of your other friends joined the two of you at lunch. 

Peter just couldn’t stop. 

Anytime you apologetically told him you had plans, it was another tally accumulating how many times he’d been scorned. Even if the next words out of your mouth were asking if he was free the day after, it didn’t change anything. The cycle didn’t stop until November of freshman year. 

That was when you’d stopped trying to chase him down. Decided to not call him on the phone just to hear it ring twice before he sent you to voicemail.

“So I was supposed to sit alone on the bleachers while you cheered for a bunch of assholes that shoved my face into a locker freshman year?” His head cocked to the side but, hey, at least he’s actually looking at you. “Drag me around behind you like some kind of pet?”

“No!”

“So I could’ve stood alone in the corner at a party? Still making sure you got home safe? Wait on the sidelines until all the cool people were busy and I got called off the bench? Be there to comfort you when you picked, yet another, asshole that broke your heart just to break mine again and again?”

You couldn’t blink because if you do, the tears that had welled up in your eyes were going to start to fall. Those words make the lump in your throat so big that you can barely swallow it down.

“That what you wanted?” He asks and throws up his hands.

You told yourself you were both just drunk. Peter didn’t actually mean it. You told yourself that over and over again, the tension in the air was so heavy that it practically crushed you from the weight. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it… The mantra repeated in your head like a prayer in the hope you’d believe it. 

You couldn’t convince yourself that it wasn’t the truth. 

When you didn't answer, he stepped closer. Your voice cracked but you managed to force out, “No.” Peter couldn’t help it, a cold and bitter chuckle slipped past his lips. He was pissed off, that much was clear. 

“No?” he asked. He was close now, his chest brushed yours with every breath. It was so far from what you ever wanted but you could barely shake your head no, your hair shifting along your shoulders. “I think you did, whether you realize it or not.”

Even though his voice has dropped, he might as well have screamed it at you. It didn’t make it any less deafening to hear. 

“Anything else you want to say?” You were quiet too, the words felt like glass in your throat. So you swallowed down the shards, finding that glass would hurt a lot less than having to stand here and listen to him much longer. 

He ran his hands through his hair and paced a few steps away from you while wiped at your face. It only took him a few moments to turn back a second later and step back up to you. There was barely an arm's length between you two but it still felt like you were on opposite sides of the solar system.

"You want to know what I think? What I really think?"

You had to grit your teeth just to keep your bottom lip from trembling. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I really do.”

He stared down at you, his breathing still ragged. He wanted to say things, terrible, awful things. He wanted to cut you deep - to hurt you like you hurt him. 

Instead, he stepped closer. Close enough that he was in your space, his chest practically brushing against yours. 

And then he was talking, the words falling from his lips before he could stop himself.

"I think,” he murmured, wetting his lips before continuing. “I think that letting you patch me up when I fell off my skateboard nine years ago was the biggest mistake of my life."

For a long moment, you said nothing. You didn’t move, you didn't blink, you didn't breathe. If you didn’t take a few seconds to calm yourself, you were going to start bawling before you could make it to the safety of Flash’s bathroom. 

With a shaky breath, you stepped back, forcing your trembling lips into a tightlipped smile. A part of you wanted to mean it, like it could somehow reassure him.  So you sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. Peter just frowned and waited because he couldn’t do anything more. 

Your laugh was pathetic and watery. Nothing was funny. 

Aside from you because you just felt like a joke. 

You gave him a curt nod and stood straightened. “Okay.” It’s all you could get out. 

So, with one last look, you bent down to pick up the discarded solo cup. You’d never be able to drink strawberry lemonade vodka again after tonight. All you’d ever taste is him. 

He watched you carefully, the anger leaving his body in waves and dissipating into the night. Every time you took a step away from him, he felt more and more like a jerk. 

You don’t turn back around as you slip back around the side of the house. 

It was that look on your face, like he broke you with his words. The look on your face that cut through every last bit of anger and resentment to get at what lay underneath. 

Love.

And it kills him. 

It kills you too. 

The next time you see him again, you’ve both graduated from college; celebrating in some divey bar where you accidentally spill your drink on him.