#but yeah uh. gonna finish up some things and go to bed probably

[w2soneshots]

Race cars -W2S

words: 0.9k+

warnings: pregnancy.

summary: you, your baby daddy and the rest of the group spend a day at the F1 - British Grand Prix.

notes: Hello loves! This was requested on my wattpad🫶🏼. I don’t know much about f1 so that part of this fic is pretty vague but I hope you enjoy!!😚💕

A few weeks ago the boys were invited to watch the an f1 race and were told that they could each bring a plus one. Ethan chose Faith, Simon chose Talia, Josh chose Freya, Vik chose Ellie, JJ chose Callux, Tobi chose Calfreezy and Harry chose me.

The past few months of mine and Harry's life have been pretty crazy due to the fact I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn't planned but I've been with Harry for almost six years so it was a happy surprise.

Today is the day of the race. I woke up wrapped in my boyfriend's arms, one of his hands gently resting on my growing baby bump. I slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to begin getting ready.

I took a quick shower, styled my hair, applied some makeup then picked out a cute but comfortable outfit. Once I was finished Harry was already up and in the kitchen making us both breakfast.

"Good morning my love." He smiled wildly at me as I sat down on one of the stools at our breakfast bar. "Morning. You exited for today?" I asked cheerly. "Yeah! Can't wait. The group chat has been blowing up since last night, everyone's really excited." He replied, plating up our food.

After eating Harry got ready into a relatively fancy outfit (well, what Harry considers fancy) and soon we were in a taxi on our way to Silverstone.

When we arrived I text the girls and they told me that they were already inside. I opened the back door of the taxi to see Harry already waiting there. He put out his hand and I graciously took it. He helped me to stand up then we headed towards the entrance.

"Hi!" I let go of Harry's hand when I spotted the girls. We each shared a hug and they were quick to comment on my growing stomach. "You look so cute." "I can't believe you're actually gonna have a baby!" I smiled. "I know. Oh and guess what!" "What?" Faith tilted her head to the side. "I felt the baby kick last night." I replied. All three of them stared at me for a second before bright smiles spread across their faces.

The night before I was sat in bed when I felt a flutter in my stomach. You couldn't see or feel it from the outside but the doctor had told me what to look out for so I knew it was the baby. When I told Harry a cute smile graced his features.

Once I said hello to the boys we all got settled in our seats, ready to watch the race. When the green flag was waved everyone suddenly became very focused. I sat between Harry and Talia, my hand gently resting on my small bump.

After almost an hour I got up to use the bathroom. "You alright love?" Harry asked. "Mhm," I hummed. "Just going to the toilet. I'll be back in a minute." I smiled lightly. He nodded then returned his attention back to the large outdoor tv screen that showed the parts of the track we couldn't see.

I made my way down the stairs and I walked towards the toilets. Just as I got there someone stopped me. "Excuse me?" I turned around. A teenage boy stood in front of me. "Are you Wroetoshaw's girlfriend?" He asked. "Uh- yes I am." I replied. "Could I please get a pic?" He was polite so I agreed. "Oh and congratulations by the way." He glanced at my stomach. I smiled. "Thank you." He nodded with a smile then he walked away happily.

When I returned to my seat I told Harry about the interaction. "I forgot that people don't know about the baby." He replied. "Well they'll probably know after today." I said quietly, carful not to annoy anyone around us trying to watch the race. "That's not a bad thing though, we didn't want it to be a big deal, right?" "Yeah, I'm a little sad that it won't be our little secret anymore though."

Since I'm not really on social media we hadn't even thought about telling the fans since it wasn't like I needed to hide it in pictures or anything. But when they find out they find out we're not that bothered about it.

Once the race ended we all headed to a nearby restaurant to get some lunch. We ordered our food then began having separate conversations. Me and the girls chatted away about what we'd all been up to recently while the boys discussed an upcoming sidemen video.

Later that night as me and Harry lay next to each other in bed he turned his phone around so I could see it. "Look." The screen showed an instagram post with a picture of me and Harry sat at the f1 race, my hand perched on my obvious baby bump. The caption read "congratulations are in order for w2s and his girlfriend y/n! The couple were seen earlier today with the rest of the sidemen at the f1 British Grand Prix and y/n seems to be pregnant! Nothing has been confirmed by them as of yet but fans are extremely excited about the news."

I smiled. "Well, I guess now everyone knows." Harry put the phone down, shuffling closer to me and pulling me into his chest. "I'm glad. It's been hard keeping the biggest thing in my life a secret. The amount of times they've had to cut stuff out of the podcast because I accidentally let something slip." He replied. I chuckled then let out a content sigh as we both slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

[coco-loco-nut]

She’s So Gone

pairing: lando x ex!reader, charles x platonic!reader, carlos x reader

summary: all it takes is a kiss to change everything

masterlist requests open

———————

“Lando, stop,” you laugh as your boyfriend tickles your side. He is staying with you for the evening since the F3 opening race is at Silverstone.

“Come on, say you are coming to my race,” he pouts as his hands still from their assault on your side.

“I’ll try. I have a paper that I need to finish first,” you can’t help but feel the mood drop as Lando lays down beside you.

“You can work on it at the track,” he feebly argues.

“Lan, I have to put my studies first. Plus, the band might want to practice for our gig next week,” you frown.

“Aren’t I more important?” he asks, and you feel your stomach twist.

“You are, Lan. I’ll be there. Just try and come to my gig next week, yeah?” you ask, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it,” Lando promises. And while you skipped sleep and shuffled things around to attend Lando’s race, he forgot your gig and gave a weak apology. He always did.

You attend the first race after your school year ended and fiddle with the team shirt that Lando gave you to wear.

“Stay just like that, you look so pretty,” Lando says, camera in hand as he takes a picture.

“Come on, Lando. I probably look awful,” you say, arms folding in front of you. Lando steps closer, pulling your arms down and bringing you into a hug.

“Of course now. How could you when you wear my shirt,” Lando wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you through the paddock. You can’t help but feel like everyone is judging you, especially because it’s a support race weekend.

Lando ends up dragging you out to a bar after his podium. As soon as you arrive, you are left alone. You watch Lando talk to people, forgetting about you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks. You recognize him as the driver who won the F2 feature race. How sad must you look, standing alone at the bar, so that someone you don’t know is concerned.

“Yeah, just waiting for my boyfriend to get back,” your eyes travel to where you last saw Lando, only to see him kissing some blonde girl. “I, um,” you swallow and blink back tears.

Charles’ eyes are wide as he looks between you and Lando, feeling a little awkward. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to pass out from alcohol, and he’s watching you get cheated on.

“Sorry, I’m just gonna go,” you bitterly smile.

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, turning to follow you. “Hold on, you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Charles doesn’t know why he’s offering, but his gut usually isn’t wrong.

“I’m fine, but thank you. You should enjoy your party,” you a fighting to stay fine.

“I insist, it was getting boring anyway,” Charles lies. “Where are you staying?” Your silence is an answer enough. “I have a pull out bed in my hotel room, if you need somewhere to crash for the night,” he offers, still unsure why he’s offering.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Luckily for you, Charles was only a few floors from Lando and your bag was mostly packed. Your phone rings with a call from Lando, but you ignore it. Instead, you scribble a note on the pad provided by the hotel, telling him you were done.

Charles watches as your hand shakes a little, but you seem relieved. He sends a quick text to his teammate to not be surprised that there is a random girl crashing in their hotel room.

“I don’t ever think I caught your name,” Charles breaks the silence as you walk to his room.

“Y/n,” you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders, finally breaking away from Lando. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he’s been weighing you down, making you choose him over everything else.

“I’m Charles. Sorry about what happened back there,”

“It’s fine, probably for the best. Thanks for, uh, letting a stranger crash the night,” you set your bags down as you help Charles pull out the couch.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Charles replies as he hands you a couple pillows and a blanket.

After he bids you goodnight, you rebook your train home to the first one of the day. In the morning you silently put the couch back, leaving everything neatly with a thank you note. You slip out of the hotel room quietly and return home.

Once you board the train, you open the strings of texts you received last night.

Lando:

Y/n, where did you go?

If you went back to the hotel, please let me know you are there and safe?

Y/n?

I miss you :(

Y/n? Why aren’t you in the room?

This note is a joke right? I didn’t cheat! We aren’t over.

Y/n, please.

Babe, tell me you are joking.

I watched you kiss her, don’t lie. I don’t want to know how much of this has been happening behind my back.

You rarely showed up for my gigs, but I’ve made every effort to be at your races. I don’t even think you know what degree I’m studying for. This was the just last straw.

Lose my number.

It’s chemistry, you’ve always loved chemistry. You would send me the silly meme. You’re my nerd and I love you for it. I’m sorry I lied, I need you.

You feel on odd sense of peace. Out of curiosity, you look up Charles on social media, following him so you could see where his career takes him. It seems like you have a new favorite driver. In the process, you unfollow Lando and delete most of the photos of him on your profile. You don’t bother blocking him, he hasn’t given you a reason for that yet.

Charles quickly follows you back, sending you a message that he’s glad you got home safely. You send a message back thanking him for letting you crash and wish him luck in his career.

The school year held a lot of transformation for you. As you advanced your studies, you grew more confident in yourself and your little band began taking off. While inside you were still bookish and loved a rainy day with a blanket on your couch, you weren’t afraid to be bold and dress a little more daring when out.

You messaged Charles every once in a while, keeping up with his racing, wishing him a happy birthday, stuff like that. You weren’t expecting him to invite you to visit Monaco on your spring break. Sure you sent funny videos to each other and texted every so often, but you didn’t think you were that close.

“You seem different,” Charles says as he picks you up.

“I’ve been exploring myself this year, different styles, new music, stuff like that,”

“Well, I like it, you seem more confident than the girl I met at the bar,” Charles shrugs, you feel a sense of pride in it. You’ve worked hard to separate yourself from the girl that followed Lando around.

“Well you’ve changed too, mister hot shot Formula One driver,” you smile, watching him fight his own grin from the drivers seat.

That night you go out to the club with friends of Charles, the ones who don’t race in the higher formulas. It was already a little awkward meeting his entire family since he insisted that you not book a hotel, so you are hoping that alcohol calms your nerves.

“This is my friend, Y/n, she goes to school in England,” Charles says, letting the guys introduce themselves.

“How’d you meet?” one of them asks as you stand in line for the club.

“My ex cheated on me and Charles happened to be there. He let me crash the night on the couch in his hotel room,” you admit, not knowing a better way to explain it.

“That’s Charles, he’s nice like that. We all thought he was bringing a girlfriend,” the friend, Joris, says causing you to flush.

“No, we are just friends. I was a little surprised to get the invite to come here myself,” you chuckle, not able to picture yourself dating Charles. He was handsome, sure, but you just weren’t attracted to him like that.

“Well, you are doing something right. Have you been to one of his races?”

“No. I check to see if he’s won, but I don’t attend in person, not my thing,” you aren’t sure the answer he is looking for. You are sure Charles appreciates that you aren’t his friend so you can attend races, but you do cheer for him.

“You are missing out, you should come some time,” Joris says as you near the club entrance.

“Maybe,” your shrug ends that topic.

After a wild night, for the guys at least, you wanted to stay sober enough to make sure everyone left alive, you find yourself supporting a very drunk Charles back to bed.

“You know, you are a good friend. We should hang out more,” Charles slurs.

“Well, I am in university and you are traveling around the world, we don’t really have time for that,” you chuckle.

“Drop out, I’ll give you a job. What are you studying?”

“Chemistry,” you wonder how Charles will think of a job for that.

“Huh, I thought you’d be like history or something. What if I just hire you to be my personal entertainer?” Charles asks, you just shake your head with a smile.

“If you can even remember this conversation in the morning we will talk about it,” you smile as you reach his bedroom.

“Thanks. You know, this reminds me of the night we met,” Charles reaches for the handle to his bedroom as you turn to walk away, pausing when you hear him.

“How so? We were just at the club, nothing special,”

“I brought you home with me, only this time you aren’t crashing on my couch,” Charles grins as you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“Goodnight, Leclerc,” you head to the guest room before you wake up the whole family.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, Charles shows you around and you get to know his family a little better. He didn’t remember your hallway conversation, but you did tease him for it.

Your relationship with Charles improved after that. He came to watch a couple sets of yours during breaks and you visited occasionally when you were both free, but you mostly kept up with each other through texts and social media. You weren’t best friends, but you were more than casual friends.

He even attended your graduation, something he proudly posted on his story. Charles tried to find a job for you in Formula One, something you protested, but he came up short. Turns out there isn’t too much need for a biochemist in Ferrari. You took the first good offer that came your way, but you kept your music career alive.

Everything worked out in the end, and you find yourself immediately calling Charles one afternoon after getting off the phone with your band.

“Charlie, I have a surprise,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone, your excitement radiates through.

“Well? What is it?” Charles sounds equally excited, secretly hoping you will finally attend a race.

“I am opening for Taylor Swift in Europe next year,” you squeal. Your alt style pop music was growing in popularity, quickly becoming a favorite of teen girls, and when you got the offer you just couldn’t refuse. It’s the perfect way to launch yourself.

“That’s incredible! I can’t wait to watch you on stage again. I was going to get tickets for Alex and I,” Charles says, he’s been one of your biggest supporters and has helped you get through writers block once or twice.

“I could always bring you onstage to accompany me,” you smile, imagining the crowd’s reaction.

“No way. I need to let you shine. Besides, I haven’t officially collaborated with your band yet,” Charles laughs. “Oh, when you come to Monaco, I have someone I want you to meet,” Charles says.

“Is this your way of getting me into the paddock, because you know how I feel about that,” your voice has a warning tone.

“No, although my offer still stands. Carlos just wants to meet you, apparently I talk too much about you,”

“Shocker, you talk about your insanely awesome friend. Isn’t he my ex’s best friend though?” You ask bluntly.

“They were teammates, yes, but I wouldn’t say best friends, more like just friends. He’s nothing like Lando though, trust me,” Charles says and you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Well, if he passes your tests, then he must be okay,” you give in. “And, maybe, if we keep it low key, I’ll watch the race with Alex,” you say, having thought about it.

“Really?” Charles sounds like a kid on Christmas and you start to think that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. You aren’t the same person as the one who that last stepped into the paddock.

“Yeah, I was going to do a pop up show anyway, so why not. Why keep hiding myself, like you said. I gotta shine,” you grab your journal, starting to write lines.

“I’ll get you passes. Talk to you later?” Charles says, waiting for your confirmation before hanging up.

The water in the harbor sparkes as the sun reflects off of it. You sit on the yacht with Charles and Alex, tattooed fingers strumming the guitar. The rest of your band decided to explore the city despite having an invitation to join.

You stare at the tattoo that adorns your hand, the simple lines that lead from your pinky to the small butterfly just above your wrist. A reminder of breaking away, learning to fly.

“Wanna hear something new I started,” you ask, “I only have the first verse started, but it has potential,” you strum a random chord before singing.

“I’d be more than happy to workshop it on the piano with you,” Charles offers after your mini-performance.

“Not that it needs any fine tuning, it’s going to be a hit,” Alex reassures you. You smile and go back to playing random chords as you enjoy the waves.

“Am I interrupting?” a new voice asks, a Spanish accent cutting through the humid Monaco air.

“Not at all, we were just about to head out,” Charles stands up as you set the guitar down. He heads to untie the lines as Alex greets the visitor.

“Carlos, this is our friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Charles’ teammate Carlos,” Alex introduces you. You take in the handsome driver before shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” You smile as Carlos sits beside you, limited seats and all.

“How did you meet Charles and Alex?” Carlos asks, a seemingly simple question.

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that Charles took in a stranger when she needed it most,” you tightly smile and Carlos drops the subject.

“You are a musician, no? One of my friends listens to your music,” Carlos says and you perk up a little.

“Yes. I’m sorry if Charles blasts my music too loud,” you offer a genuine smile.

“No, no, not Charles. Well, yes Charles but not as much. His name is Lando, we used to be teammates. He loves your music,” Carlos says and you quickly excuse yourself, claiming you need to put your guitar away.

“Sorry about that. Lando is a sensitive subject,” Alex says, not sure how much to say. Carlos nods, subtly pulling out his phone to look up your social media. It’s not hard to scroll through old posts and find one or two pictures of you and Lando together. You look so different, like a delicate doll. Carlos remembers Lando talking about an ex who just cut him out without warning, but he’s starting to think there is more to the story.

“Sorry, didn’t want my guitar to be in the sun too long,” you say, sitting back down beside Alex. “So, Carlos, how is racing with Charlie?” you ask. Carlos is quick to answer and with some more questions you find out that you will both be attending the Leclerc family dinner that night.

“What a beautiful day out,” Charles says as he rejoins you, having dropped anchor. You take to opportunity to lay out on the bow of the yacht, wanting some sun before jumping into the water.

“You okay?” Alex asks as she sits beside you. You arch your brow as you look up at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be. All that is in the past, plus I’m going to the race this weekend. Jokes on Lando, I’m so much better without him,” you say, meaning every word. Alex nods, glancing back to where Charles and Carlos are chatting.

“Carlos is nice,”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him?” Alex says and you glance back, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. “Charles wouldn’t bring him around you if he wasn’t sure how you would handle it,” her words ring true.

“He’s basically been my protector since he watched me get cheated on. Charles is a good friend. Maybe I’ll invite him to the pop up show,” you weigh your options. Maybe it’s time to move on, and so what if it’s your former boyfriend’s friend and former teammate. You’re all adults, and plenty of time has passed.

You barely notice when Alex is replaced by said Spaniard.

“It’s quite warm in the sun,” Carlos comments, breaking the silence.

“It is, I may have to go into the water soon,” you reply, eyes trained on how his muscles ripple when he takes off his shirt.

“Not a bad idea,” Carlos agrees, his tan skin brushing your arm.

“My band, Midnight Hours is playing a pop up show at this pretty popular club tonight, you should come out. Charles has a few extra passes,” you say, pushing your hair back.

“I’d love to, thanks,” Carlos hopes that you think the blush on his face is from the sun. He knows he shouldn’t find you attractive, you are Lando’s ex after all, but he can’t help it.

“Well, I’m going to swim. Talk to you later Carlos,” he doesn’t respond as his brain is slightly fried at how you say his name, he watches you walk away and jump into the water.

That night you go to the club soon after dinner with the Leclercs to set up and run a sound check. Passes to the concert sold out soon after it was announced.

“Nervous?” Lia, your bassist, asks as you pluck a string to tune it after the sound check.

“A little. More excited if anything,” you say, setting down the guitar on its stand.

“Well, let’s grab a round before the club opens and celebrate this,” she pulls you offstage to join the rest of the band.

The hour passes by quick, and you find yourself smoothing your tight black dress and fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Maybe heels were a bad option? But they make you look fabulous.

Charles nudges Carlos as they spot you waiting for your introduction. The two of them plus Arthur and Alex are close to the stage, ready to be your loudest supports.

The lights are blinding as you walk on, and the sound of cheering is deafening. Lando feels a punch of regret for coming. You look amazing, but so different from the girl he used to date. Your mini black dress a contrast from the cozy cardigans you used to live in. He can’t help but wonder if he really knew you.

Your set is phenomenal, at one point you catch Carlos’ eye and send him a wink. As soon as the set ends, your band clears the stage to party with everyone. You start at the bar though, knowing Charles will lead the charge to find you.

“Y/n,” a british accent calls your name from beside you, and your mood sours.

“What do you want, Lando?” you hold your cup a little tighter.

“Your set was incredible. I’m sorry for everything, what I did wasn’t cool,”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. Cheating on me the getting with her two weeks after I broke it off? I felt like shit, you made me feel like shit. You never wanted to come to one of these before, why show up now?” you scoff, barely able to look at Lando.

“I miss you, you look hot and I want to try again. I can be better,”

“But I’m better without you. I’m stronger, prettier, well off, and I really don’t need you,” you start seeing red.

“Mate, you should leave,” Charles stands beside you.

“How do you know Charles?” Lando’s eyes widen.

“He helped me when you were too focused on kissing the first blonde girl who batted her eyes at you,” you seethe. You feel a hand, larger than Charles’ rest on your shoulder. “Stay, go, do whatever you want. Just leave me alone,” you stare Lando down.

“It’s for the best, Cabrón,” Carlos says from behind you. Lando just nods and walks away.

“Chemistry,” he yells back at you before disappearing into the crowd, you feel a bit sick to the stomach. The last texts you sent him flash through your mind.

“You okay? What did he mean by that?” Alex asks as Arthur orders a round of shots.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter what he meant, fuck him,” you take a drink, steeling yourself.

“Okay,” she sounds convinced enough as she turns to Charles.

“Hermosa, you can do so much better than him,” Carlos says, lips near your ear.

“Aren’t you his friend?”

“I know that whatever he did is fucked up, and he doesn’t deserve you. He’s too childish for you,” you feel your body flush with heat as he brushes against you.

“Bottoms up,” Arthurs yells, as you all grab shots.

“To a wonderful performance, and an even better night,” you cheer before throwing it back.

You wander around the club, dancing with your band and meeting fans before you find yourself dancing with Carlos. His hands hold you close to him. You tilt your head up, looking at Carlos under the club lights. He finds his hand wandering up to the back of your neck, pulling you close and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck, content with your situation.

“Alright lovebirds, time to go,” Arthur interrupts you, giggling at your flushed appearances. Carlos stays close to you as you follow Arthur to where Charles and Alex are waiting with your guitar.

For the first time in a very long time, you are excited to be at the track. You weren’t scared anymore, and it’s a powerful feeling. You don’t even mind Ferrari taking pictures and posting you as a guest, fans of Charles know who you are anyway. They’ve been in your comments begging you to attend for a long time.

“I gotta go do an interview, mind keeping Y/n company?” Charles asks Carlos, who’s been acting like a teenager with a crush all day.

You are standing not too far away, talking with an engineer about something. Carlos thinks you look beautiful, and he loves how excited you seem despite it only being FP1. The engineer excuses himself as Carlos approaches and for the first time of the day, you feel nervous.

“Have you seen an F1 car before?” Carlos asks, you simply shake your head no. “Well then, let me show you.” For a split second you wonder if this is what you were like when you showed Charles the lab you work in. You let him discuss aerodynamics and downforce, but you can’t help but let yourself geek out too.

“You know that I did study thermodynamics right? I actually helped Charles understand some of the tire compounds,” you smile, holding back a laugh.

“Really? I didn’t realize you studied, um,”

“Chemistry. My masters is in biochemistry, but during my undergraduate studies I worked in a materials lab,” your cheeks blush as you speak. You don’t know why, you aren’t really embarrassed. Maybe you are scared he will think differently of you.

“Really? That’s so cool, I just assumed you are a musician full time,” Carlos says before adding an afterthought. “Being that smart is pretty hot,”

“Thanks,” you laugh, not expecting his addition. “Maybe one day soon I will perform full time, but I really enjoy working in a lab,” you shrug, happy with where things are at. You can’t reveal where you will be a year from now, but it does make you a little sad to know that your life will change forever and your nerdy side will be left behind.

You and Carlos quietly flirt throughout the rest of the race weekend. Charles secretly hopes that your crush on his teammate would make you come to more races, but instead you throw yourself back into the band. You had to prepare for your growing popularity, finding an agent and professional support for things that your band wasn’t able to manage.

You end up quitting your job soon after, able to be stable enough with the new revenue streams from the band. It didn’t help that your band kept getting booked and you needed to be more serious about performing.

Carlos did find himself texting you frequently and even visiting you in England over the next few weeks.

One of those nights he finds himself relaxing in your apartment as you grab takeout from the delivery driver. It hits him how domestic and right it feels.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask as you sit beside him, eyes full of curiosity.

“You,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. “How much I want you to be my girlfriend,” you don’t think you’ve seen Carlos so nervous.

“Really?” you hum as you lean into him. You can’t deny that you are nervous. You haven’t even thought about dating someone since your breakup, and you weren’t expecting that question so soon.

“You don’t have to answer right away, I know it’s not an easy one,” Carlos senses your hesitation and running mind.

“Yes, my answer is yes,” you answer before your mind can think about it more, knowing you are making the right choice.

And so, you quietly date for the next year, waiting for the right moment to go public. You do attend races a little more frequently, but usually under the guise of being Charles’ guest.

You did get invited to a race as a guest of Ferrari, well, the whole band did. You were asked to take part in the races C squared video too.

“This weeks challenge is a highly requested one. How many songs by Midnight Hours can you name?”

“Mate, no. Charles is friends with the lead singer, he knows everything. This is so unfair,” Carlos groans, keeping his cover.

“That is true, I’ve known Y/n for a few years. Sorry, Carlos, you might as well take the loss now,” Charles smiles, ready to win.

“The rules are simple, we will play thirty seconds of a song and the first to guess it correctly wins,” you watch them carefully, trying to hide your laughter each time. They still don’t know you are in the room.

Carlos wins 3-2, Charles being too slow or guessing the wrong song.

“I’m a little disappointed, Charles. You forgot about the song you cowrote,” you shake your head as you appear in the frame. “Friend status revoked, Carlos is my bestie now,” you grin wider as your eyes meet Carlos’.

“But I’ve known you longer, you wouldn’t even know Carlos if it weren’t for me,” Charles protests. Carlos drapes an arm over your shoulders.

“Sorry, Charles, she likes me more now. I know her music better,” Carlos looks down at you with a soft smile while you laugh at Charles. To the general eye, it looks like you are two friends, but Charles can tell how enamored you are with each other. He just hopes that you will be able to share it with the world soon.

That moment comes in Australia. Your boyfriend won while recovering from surgery, you couldn’t help but kiss him, even if cameras were focused on you. The frenzy around your new relationship died down not to long after, some people brought up your past with Lando, but most dismissed it.

Fans posted many edits displaying the subtle clues you and Carlos gave. The way you gravitated towards each other, how you looked at him differently than Charles, the way you leaned into each other’s touch and always hugged for a little longer than others.

Unfortunately, You didn’t see Carlos as much once April hit. Carlos being busy with racing, you preparing to go on your first tour with the band, it didn’t leave much time for in-person dates. Video calls were great, but you missed the physical presence of Carlos. You anxiously awaited the day that Carlos, Charles, and Alex would attend the show, you even got Pierre and Kika passes to your tent.

For the first time, you feel nervous to take the stage. You’ve been practicing a new song with the band, your friends and Carlos were in the crowd, and you got a text from a friend warning you that Lando was spotted in attendance. The long awaited day finally arrived, and it’s proving to be quite the event.

“We can delay debuting the song,” Lia says as you tune your guitar, giving you an out if everything is too much.

“No way, We’ve been waiting for a year now to release it. No point in waiting any longer,” you start to hype yourself up. After a quick meeting with the band, you receive your cue from the stage manager. A few songs in you nod to the band, letting them know it’s time.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play something that we’ve been working on for a while. I wrote this a few years ago and I think it’s time to share it with you. This is called She’s So Gone, it will be available at midnight tonight wherever you listen to music,” you turn away from the mic, silently counting the band in. The crowd loves it, and you feel a renewed confidence as you finish the set and make your way to where your guests are to watch the concert.

“That was incredible, you are actually amazing,” Carlos pulls you into his arms and kisses you softly.

“Thanks, Carlitos. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, relaxing in his embrace.

“Not to scare you or anything, but Midnight Hours is trending right now,” Alex says, showing you her phone. Some are videos of the song, which is blowing up. Others are comparisons of Lando’s sour reaction to Carlos’ clear support and excitement.

“Seems like it’s a good thing we got a PR manager recently,” you laugh, leaning into Carlos who presses a kiss to your head.

You weren’t always a fan of Taylor Swift, but you have grown an appreciation for her after spending time on tour with her. What surprised you was how much of her music the guys knew. Videos of them, and you, dancing during the concert went viral within the F1 community. All you really cared about was having a good time and being with your support system.

The song goes viral and people notice that Charles has a production credit on it. He helped you compose the song, and to you, the song represents how much he’s helped you since that night. You find yourself thinking about it as you sit in his apartment one night while petting Leo.

“You know, without you I wouldn’t be here,” you say, a little out of the blue.

“That’s not true,”

“It is. Your small act of kindness helped me start this journey. I threw myself into my music, we became friends, you made me comfortable around racing again, and you introduced me to Carlos. Without you I probably would’ve left, licked my wounds, then take Lando back because that was the easy thing to do,” you explain, words hanging heavy in the air. Charles sits beside you on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. The past year saw the two of you grow closer.

“For what it’s worth, you have helped me too. You’ve been like a sister to me, and I don’t regret helping you that night at all,” he nudges your shoulder. He’s watched you grow into yourself, and he is proud. Introducing you to Carlos was a risk, but he hasn’t seen you or his teammate happier.

Carlos was patient with you, letting you take as much time as you needed to tell him about your previous relationship with Lando and how you met Charles. He promised to be better than Lando, and he is. He is still on friendly terms with his former teammate, but he is glad that he has you and Lando fumbled you all those years ago.

A few years later you find yourself cuddled on the couch with your favorite Spaniard, wearing a chunky cardigan and snuggled under a knit blanket. Carlos plays with the ring on your finger, happy in the moment of domestic bliss. He’s at a high point in his career and you and the band were internationally known thanks to a large tour.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Hermosa?” Carlos asks, voice soft.

“All the time, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” you grin, content to stay like this forever. Carlos pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm. You admire your fresh ink, his racing number beside your old butterfly.

You got the tattoo to carry him with you during shows and other events that he couldn’t be there, and now when you can’t wear your ring. You find yourself reminiscing over the proposal.

Carlos had brought you to monaco with him earlier in the year for an afternoon on the yacht with Charles and Alex. You didn’t even notice when Carlos stepped away for a moment and Charles and Alex left a few moments later to grab drinks.

You were relaxed, watching the sunset create a beautiful sky. You heard Carlos approach, but your eyes don’t leave the sea.

“Carlitos, come over here. The sky is perfect,” you sigh happily, leaning forwards on the railing.

“Not as perfect as you, cariño,” Carlos’ voice causes you to turn towards him, still blushing every time he makes a comment like that. Carlos was on one knee holding the prettiest ring you had ever seen, it’s like he took what you imagined in your mind and brought it to life.

“You make me never want to race again if it means staying like this forever, and when I do race, it’s like I’m trying to get back to you as soon as possible,” Carlos declares and you feel your heart swell. “You are my everything, mi reina, be mine forever.”

“Of course, Carlos, yes,” you try to fight the tears as he slides the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you close to him. Carlos leans down and kisses you softly. If only you could tell your younger self that this was how everything would turn out.

[l0relaii]

LORELAIIIII!!! i crave experienced!josh w/ inexperienced!reader so bad... like the way he would fuck you though it and be so kind to you and so sweet and do everything you ask. HE DEFINITELY IS A MUNCH OML

sam omg?? i love this idea sm!! <33

in my head josh is either a virgin or he fucked a lot of people. A LOT

either nothing or a concerning amount there's no middle ground 😔

and when he finds out that you're inexperienced he's more than glad to teach you everything he knows :D

he'd take it easy with you when you first start dating, only some gentle kisses and touches that eventually turn into make out sessions

and during one of those make out sessions you suddenly blurt out between kisses while on top of him

"i think i'm ready-"

"hmm? ready for what?"

"you know.. to do.. it.."

"it? you're gonna have to be more specific baby"

he's teasing you, you know that, you can see it in the sly smirk on his face

"oh quit teasing me josh, you know exactly what i mean"

"you want me to fuck you pretty girl?''

"...yes"

"yes what?"

"..yes..please-"

"now that's my girl.."

you can feel his hard cock under you, have been feeling it for a good amount of time now poking at you through his jeans

"should i uhh- lay down or something?"

"mm no, why don't you stay right here on top of me? that way you can control everything babe"

"oh, okay-"

he can see how nervous you are, how often you bite your lip anxiously and how you grip his shoulders when his hands caress your skin under your shirt

he begins undressing the both of you until you're both left in your underwear. he leans over the bed getting something from his nightstand.

when he opens his palm bringing it towards you, you see what it is. a condom.

"need any help with this?"

"i think i got it.."

you take it from his hand reluctantly and stare down at the proeminent bulge in his boxers, a damp spot forming where his tip supposedly is

his hands unclasp your bra taking it off before admiring you his lips slightly parted in admiration

"you're so beautiful baby.."

you don't respond though, too caught up in your own thoughts. what if this was a bad idea?

he finally takes off his boxers and your eyes widen at the sight. it's.. big.. bigger than you expected

"will it uhh.. hurt?"

"if we don't get you ready before, probably"

"oh, get me ready, yeah that makes sense.. how.. how will you do that?"

"i dunno baby, what d'you prefer? my fingers? my tongue?"

oh, oh-

"you really wanna do that?"

"why wouldn't i?"

"i thought guys don't really like doing that-"

"i want you to enjoy yourself too"

his hand cups your pussy through your soaked underwear and his fingers sneak under the material rubbing through your folds

you gasp a bit feeling his cold touch on your hot skin and you lean on his chest letting his fingers thrust up into you

he coos soft praises into your neck while stretching you out and your hand mindlessly wraps around his length pumping him slowly

"good girl.. just like that honey.."

you fidget with the forgotten condom wrapper in your hand until you manage to pry it open

with shaky hands you put it on him hearing a soft hiss escape his lips

"you ready baby..?"

"umm yeah, i think i am"

"good.. you're on top, you control everything, okay? go however fast or slow you want to"

he holds his cock upright while you lift yourself a bit to position him at your entrance

once you sink down on him all the way you close your eyes concentrating on how he feels inside you. you don't see it but he does the same thing

after you get used to the feeling of being so full you begin moving slowly bouncing up and down in his lap

he's so gentle, not at all what you expected from what you heard about him when you first started dating

his hands grip your hips, not to hurry you but to comfort you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin

he looks at you with such adoration uttering hushed praises to you between breathy whimpers

"ca-ahh can you uh- rub my cl-"

you don't even get to finish your sentence because he immediately starts moving his thumb across your puffy nub

all while encouraging you to continue your movements until you cum around him with a drawn out moan of his name

ohh and the aftercare??

jesus he's the sweetest. he cleans you up, offers to watch a movie with you while cuddling, he brings you snacks, water whatever you need 🫠

[artstennisracket]

delusional art donaldson who believes with all his heart that the strap can get him pregnant <3

no because why is this so accurate. he’s just so delulu, so babygirl, i love him <3

art x fem reader

cw: nsfw (18+), dirty talk, breeding kink

You and Art had been talking about doing this for a while. You both wanted to try something new, well you wanted to try it and Art just likes doing things you like so it works out.

You guys went online and even picked out the strap on together, settling on a pink one with black harness because you thought it was pretty.

The days leading up to it you guys start to explore more. You try fingering him and he loves it, almost desperate for it. You even try rimming him one and he just falls apart on your tongue, a complete moaning mess.

So when the day finally comes you guys are fully prepared. The package gets delivered and you bee line it straight to Art’s dorm after class. You walk in on him and Patrick.

“c’mon let me just-” Patrick stops after hearing you walk in. He was on top of Art trying to get his phone it looked like. But once he saw you, he gets up and grabs his backpack for class. “i didn’t know your girlfriend was coming over.” Patrick smirks.

Art is already blushing, he puts his phone in his pocket. “i didn’t know you cared.” He shoots back.

Patrick shrugs and nods in your direction, “what’s in the backpack?”

“don’t worry about,” You respond, dropping you backpack in the group by Art’s bed.

Patrick smirks, his guess is a strap on but he’ll tease Art about that later. He’s about to walk out the door, “have fun but not too much fun.” He winks and walks out, leaving you and Art alone.

Art lets a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You turn to ask him, “what was that about?”

He sighs, “he uh, um, well actually funny story. i told him about the uh pictures you sent me and he wanted to see them but I said no.” He says rushing out that last part.

You nod smiling a little, “it’s okay I really don’t care.” You open your bag pulling out the strap, “did you open yourself up for me?”

Art blushes and nods. He starts taking off his clothes and you do the same. Once you’ve adjusted the harness and applied some lube, you join Art on his bed. He’s laying down on his back and you get between his legs to line yourself up.

“are you ready?” You ask.

“im ready- oh fuck.” He lets out a loud moan and you push in until you bottom out.

“how does that feel?” You move your hands to his hips.

“really fucking good baby.” He whines.

You start to test out different motions and paces of strokes until you find your rhythm. Once you do, Art can’t stop moaning.

“yeah you like that? like when I fuck you?”

“yes fuck please baby keep fucking me. just like that fuck-” He gasps as you keep assaulting his prostate with your strap.

“you’re such a dirty fucking slut aren’t you? falling apart on my strap, you probably wish it was the real thing huh?”

“ah, mmm please baby don’t stop.”

“you’re such a fucking cockslut, look at you taking my strap so well.”

“holy fuck baby can you cum inside me please?”

That you weren’t expecting but when you really think about it, it makes sense. It is Art after all. So you go along with it.

“yeah? want me to get you fucking pregnant?”

Art nods whining, “yes please i want you to get me pregnant baby- please.”

“only good boys get filled up, are you gonna be good for me?

Art nods rapidly, “ah mmm fuck yes i’ll be so good, just wanna have your babies please.”

And who are you to deny your pretty boy of what he wants. You move your hand down and start jerking him off, “i want you to cum for me, i want you to cum all over your tummy and make a mess. then i want you to eat me out until i cum all over your tongue.”

Art cums before you even finish your sentence, making a mess all over himself. You pull out slowly and start to take the harness off until, “actually can you keep it on? while I eat you out?” He asks.

“uh huh.” You keep the harness on moving him onto the floor. Now that he’s on his knees, you put one foot in the chair next to you and almost immediately Art has his mouth on you.

Your hands grip his curls while he’s licking in between your folds. He starts swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit because he knows you like it.

He just looks so pretty down there in his knees for you, covered in his own cum. It’s not ling before your pulling harder on his hair and finishing in his mouth.

“oh fuck art, im gonna- gonna cum”

He stays right where he is and then shoves his face deeper (if that’s even possible). He then starts licking into your hole, lapping up all of your cum.

After you both clean up, it’s a unanimous decisions that you guys are going to keep the strap in rotation. And Patrick does get that information out of Art later on, it makes great masturbation material.

[stargazedwinchester]

Casual | Dean

love a bit of chappell don’t we guys xox

i rlly enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading it!! this is very much inspired by the song, but not necessarily a songfic :)

CW: mentions of s*x, nothing too provocative

Summary: You and Dean are casual friends with benefits until you uncover the truth about how you actually feel toward him.

Word count: 1,133

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

“I, uh, think I should get you home,” Dean says. The silence is palpable. You feel awkward and like you don’t belong, so you let out a defeated sigh. He’s shirtless, his slight 6-pack glistening with sweat as he attempts to dry himself off with a towel. You felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath, whether it was just from the insane sex you had just endeavoured or Dean’s pitiless words that filled your lungs with regret.

“Okay.” You give up. Each time you attempt to feel a connection with him — a real, deep connection, it’s like he wipes it from his memory as soon as you’re both finished and goes back to reality. Post-nut clarity, if you will.

It’s not like he doesn’t find you attractive. Hell no. It’s his intense lack of commitment issues and mommy/daddy issues that give him such a hard time completely dedicating himself to someone. The hundreds of arguments you had gotten into over the people he had slept with whilst also sleeping with you just gave you second-hand embarrassment. In fact, it was downright wrong it should’ve been illegal.

You manage to tumble out of bed butt-naked, slowly getting your clothes back on ready for the silent drive home. You almost gape in awe at Dean’s silhouette. Heavy feelings weigh down on your heart for someone who doesn’t even think of you in any other way other than for intimacy is so challenging, especially on your own self-worth.

Dean doesn’t say a word to you. He sits back down on the bed and starts typing on his phone. He’s wearing a light grey t-shirt and charcoal grey jeans. The small screen lights up his face and a slight grin slowly appears and your heart sinks. Without even looking, you already know he’s talking to some other bitch, in which he’s probably going to go pick her up after he’s dropped you off at home.

“You ready?” You ask him, breaking the one-way tension in the room. “Yeah,” He says, standing up and leading you out toward the car.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

On the drive home, it’s dark and rainy. The streetlights emit a dim, dusty champagne colour, yet the awkward tension isn’t anything worth celebrating.

“What’re you doing after this?” He asks, not breaking focus from the road. “Probably just go straight to bed,” you reply, shrugging lightly. “What about you?”

“I’m going to go visit a friend of mine,” He coughs, then purses his lips. “She lives about half an hour thataway.” He motions his pointer finger toward the left.

She.

The anger builds up inside of you. After all this time, you had thought that he wasn’t seeing anybody else, that you had only mindfully agreed that this thing stays between the pair of you, and this included sleeping around. What a fucking tool.

“Listen, it’s nice and all that you’re giving me a lift home, but you’re really taking the cake by pretending like you’re not seeing other people.” You lock eyes with him, and his expression changes.

“What, so you’re jealous now? Is that it?” He scoffs, and you freeze up. “So what if I am? We had an agreement that we weren’t gonna sleep with anyone else! We said that!” You start to raise your voice, frustration running right through your blood as it starts to boil.

“I’ve mentioned it to you multiple times before. I don’t understand why you can’t listen to me! It’s fucking gross, Dean! You need a huge reality check because this isn’t gonna last forever.” You wave your finger between yourself and Dean, indicating that whatever it is that you both have going on is at its final straw. He scoffs again, shaking his head. It’s almost like he wants to say something, but bites his tongue. He presses his foot on the pedal, coming to a stop. It’s that sudden you hit your head on the headrest.

“Y/N-“

“I don’t want to hear it. Take me home.”

“Lis-“

“Fucking take me home, Dean. I mean it.”

For the rest of the drive, you’re in silence. Nothing on the radio, no cassette tape playing, not even the windows open to hear the sound of the rain pattering on the windscreen.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

He parks the Impala outside of your house, and since the quietness has given you a second to rethink the whole situation.

“Dean,” you start, and his big, puppy-dog eyes glare at you with regret. “What’s up?” He asks and this time it sounds like it was with genuine concern.

“I have to tell you something before I go.” You state, and he nods, listening.

“The reason why I was jealous is that I’m in love with you, Dean. It’s hard seeing you go away and spend time with all these different people and I just get a fraction of you. It’s unfair that I’ve spent the last year or so falling in love with you and you see me as nothing more than someone to play with.” You pause, then take a deep breath.

“You don’t need to say anything else because I’m done. It’s friends or nothing. If I hear nothing from you within the next 3 days, then I’ll know where your priorities lie.”

You start to collect your bags together and open the passenger door. He’s left stunned, his eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes showing enough sadness to make you want to apologise for going off at him and then travelling back to the motel for round 2.

You can tell that the cogs are turning in his head, thinking of what to say that would completely win you over. But there’s absolutely nothing that he could do or say that could make you turn back around. You shut the door, but the window is still open.

“Y/N, hold up a sec,” He yells through the window while you’re almost halfway up the path. You turn around and lock eyes with him.

“Please come back, let’s talk about this.” He leans over to the passenger seat, his gorgeous forest green eyes staring up at you.

“3 days, Dean. Prove that you’re not an asshole and I’ll think about it.” You say one last time before turning back around to the front of your house. The last thing you want is Dean never wanting to see you again.

You enter the entryway to your home and make your way up the stairs. Opening up your bedroom door, you take a moment to collect yourself, instead of thinking God, what have I done? You sit proud that you have stood up for yourself against someone who has clearly used you for nothing more than his own selfishness. And if that is the case, well... so be it.

[readerhead]

Locked up feelings ode

summary: could you bear the pain in your chest of helping Seth with Summer one last time? Probably not, but you'll do it anyway.

pairing: Seth x fem!reader

warnings: trashy poetry written by me (if you think there's any other I should add, let me know please)

words: 3.2k

a/n: this is my first time writing for Seth and posting after almost two years (I wrote some things now and then but nothing finished or good enough) so don't be harsh on me, please! I just love unrequited (not actually) love stories and love Seth Cohen and his sarcastic ass so here's my attempted ode to that. As always, feel free to correct any mistakes because English isn't my mother tongue and I really really really hope at least one of you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed picturing the scenes :)

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

"You're going to this night's event?" Seth talked while you got some books out of the locker.

"My parents are making me, but we can ditch after a while and hang out." you said, closing the door and facing him.

"Of course... Yeah... Or you could help me out?" his puppy eyes and hand scratching his nape distract you a little.

"With what now?"

"You know, getting near Summer."

"Again with this, Seth? She isn't interested."

"She kissed me!"

"And then went back to ignoring you. You deserve better, someone who doesn't hide you."

"Maybe... But it's Summer." you raised your eyebrow. "Okay, one last chance and if it doesn't work I'll shut up about her."

"You promise?

"I promise."

The only thing you liked about these events was playing a little dress up. So when you were at the Cohen's, waiting for the boys to be ready, you talked with Sandy and Kirsten until they finally came out.

"I'm going with Marissa, she's out right now. Later, guys." Ryan almost always left you with Seth alone for Marissa, you liked him, but didn't get to know him that much.

"Are you coming with us?" Seth asked after gulping.

"No, I'm just here for a visit. In fact I have this fancy dress just for your view, after you finish enjoying the view I'm going to bed."

"Haha, so funny." his sarcastic response to yours made you stick your tongue out.

"My parents had to go early to talk business stuff and I didn't wanna be the first one there. You know what they say: good things take their time."

"Then you should've been early."

"And you should never arrive." Sandy and Kirsten didn't even bother to interrupt you two, just restrained to smile at your bickering.

When you finally arrived at the event you were chatting and having fun with Cohen, until he saw her.

"She's here." he was stiff and panicked.

"How do you want me to help you?" anyone that had heard you would know that you were full of bullshit and you didn't want to do it. Anyone except Seth Cohen.

"I don't know." he looked like there were a million thoughts running through his mind. "You know? In movies they make the other person jealous. I think that is the only thing I haven't tried."

"You want me to help you make her jealous? For that you'll need someone as outstanding as her."

" Oh, come on! You look gorgeous, you're hot and funny. She's definitely gonna get jealous!" you blushed more than when you saw him in swimming trunks a couple years ago when puberty hit him well. "Please? She's looking."

"One last shot. No more."

"Fine." you grabbed his tie, playing with it.

"You know, Cohen? To make this believable you'll have to relax." you passed your hands by his shoulders, giving a little massage. He relaxed. "I've always thought suits really make you a great ass." he laughed and blushed. "You know how cute you look when you blush? Summer's loss if she doesn't see it."

"You know she isn't near enough to hear all of this, right?"

"I don't know how to fake it, so I gotta actually flirt."

"Uh, okay." you have never seen him this red and nervous, not even the day he horribly went blank in the middle of a presentation.

"So, Cohen." your hands finding a new place in his chest, only the lord knows how much you've dreamt of that feeling.

"Mhmm?" he mumbled looking deep into your eyes, incapable of forming a verbal answer.

"What do you say about taking this to the next step?" he nodded fervently. "Was that a yes?"

"Yes- I mean- Yeah." he opened his mouth in shock when you brought him closer by his tie.

"Good, that's what I was hoping." you kissed him, you didn't like the feeling of thinking this was all because of the jealous Summer pantomime, but you forgot it the moment your lips and his touched. The kiss was a little sloppy at first, he wasn't very skilled, but it was so perfect you even dare to include a little tongue play. After a little you draw away leaving just mere inches between the two.

"There's no way anyone could've missed this kiss." you felt amazing under his gaze as if he was actually in love with you. "Not even Summer."

"Oh, right." you have to put on your best smile to not let him see through you. "You know what? I probably have to touch up my lipstick, why don't you see if it worked while I go to the bathroom?" your smile trying its best to cover your growing tears.

"Oh, yeah. That's a good idea, clearly. I'm gonna go. Now." the gesturing you usually find endearing now it's like needles in your heart. So you went away, trying your best not to run until you found a better spot to finally cry.

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry." you clean your tears the fastest you can, taking a mirror from your purse to clean a little bit of your now disastrous make-up.

"Don't be, Ryan. My ugly-crying loser butt is not your fault."  you looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my little escape." he said, loosening his tie and taking a seat by your side at the stairs. "I'm still trying to get used to this type of... environment." you nodded. "So you wanna talk about Seth?"

"What about him?"

"You don't have to lie, it's pretty clear for anyone with eyes. Well, except for him. Also, the little stunt you both put out there made everyone know it."

"So everyone knows I have an unrequited crush, uh? How cool. Yay."

"Unreq-? Have you ever talked to him about your feelings?" he looked in disbelief.

"I tried. Once. A couple years ago. I had this date planned out. I told him that we should go to a nice, kinda fancy restaurant, I even dressed up." you made a pause to sniffle. "When I arrived at his house he was in his casual clothes and when he saw me he looked puzzled. He even had the nerve to ask where I was going after and I told him about the reservation and he laughed at it. He thought it was a joke. The idea of a date with me was a joke for him."

"That was clearly a misunderstanding." Ryan tried to make sense.

"After that something changed, I started going to parties and random dates with random guys just to not dwell on that and his crush on Summer started. All he could talk about was her. Next thing I know: I'm crying after kissing him because he went after her."

"I think you need to talk to him."

"I'm not going to, I'll just take some distance." you got up. "And please, Ryan? Keep a secret." he looked at you seriously and after a little internal battle he nodded.

After that event, you didn't have it in yourself to face Seth, so when he called for you to order take out and have your weekly hangout you lied saying you had a cold. It fit perfectly as an excuse to why you left early and to avoid him all weekend. But Monday came and, for your disgrace, your parents never let you skip class. So there you were, at your last class handing your English assignment. A poetry assignment. How ironic, the type of writing made to put feelings beautifully when all you felt were horrendous ones.

"This was the first part of the assignment. Now I'm going to shuffle them and give each one a random paper. The second and last step is going to be writing a poem copying your partner's style." this can't be happening. Your poem was really personal, you hoped it got to anyone but Seth. Hell, even Luke would do, but not him.

Your heart was racing as the teacher started handing out the papers. You've got one handed, some kid's who isn't important right now. You rushed to your locker, changing your books the fastest you could, hoping not to bump into Seth because in your mind he had it.

"Hey!"

"For fucks sake, Ryan. Are you suddenly Batman or why are you so sneaky?"

"I think the adrenaline is the one keeping you from hearing." you locked the door and gave him a look. "What do you want?" you said while starting to walk, he walked by your side.

"I told Seth I had to talk to you about a present I wanna give Marissa so you'll be my ride." you both passing the hall doors

"That's obviously not true, so apart from a ride, why are you here for?" you said taking out you car keys and walking to your car.

"I've got your poem." your heart stopped and you urged him to get in the car.

"Thank God it's you and not him." you sighed in relief. "Please, don't show him."

"I'm not, I just wanted to tell you your secret is safe with me. I saw how pale you looked when the teacher said the second part of the assignment. If Seth wasn't buying the whole being sick stuff I can guarantee you that now he does."

"I'm gonna bake you the biggest cake in the world, truly. In fact, I'm going to do it the moment I get home." you smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, really."

The moment you got home you started baking. What you didn't know was that in the next house a brown-haired boy was asking Ryan all details about you.

"How was she?" he was short to ask the moment he saw his best friend

"A little sick, doing better."

"Oh, thank goodness! I thought I'd have withdrawal effects if we didn't have our weekly date." Ryan gave him a look. "Date as in friends."

"Friends don't date. Why don't you just admit you have feelings for her?"

"I left my feelings for her the night she broke my heart."

"Remind me how'd she done that?"

"I was gonna tell her I liked her, here at the pool house bought flowers and everything." he sat on the sofa. "Then she got mad when I said I didn't want to go to the fancy dinner because I thought it was a joke. And she didn't know that I've had all of the evening planned, but it still hurts. Then she started to have interest in guys, started dating as if it was a I've-never-liked-you-Seth-take-a-hint kind of way."

"And then you started liking Summer?" Seth nodded. "As in I'll-try-to-obsess-over-something-else-to-hide-my-actual-feelings kind of way?"

"It's not like that."

"So when she kissed you, you didn't run to me to tell it was the best kiss ever?"

"That being a kiss Golden-Globes-worthy doesn't mean that."

"How about how you look at her? Or the fact that you have her name written all over your notebooks?"

"...It's not like that." Ryan gave him a pointed look. "Whatever, it's not like she likes me."

"Maybe she does, you don't know if you don't try." he looked at his shoes for a moment.

"By the way, whose poem do you have?"

"Someone, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Man, you're no fun."

"Whatever, I've gotta go. I have an actual date." Seth mocked him while Ryan left the pool house.

"Her. Liking me. Tsk." he scoffed thinking of the idea. He was going to leave when he saw a paper peaking through Ryan's backpack, maybe it was the poem. He could do a little laugh at some rich kid from the O.C. trying to be a poet so he took it. He froze when he saw your name, "nothing I'd be interested in, right Ryan?" he thought. The title left him clueless, "season's unrequited ode", now he needed to read it, how could he not?

You know I could, right?

I could reverse the days

make sun rise on west,

your boat on the bay,

that endless holiday rest.

I know you like it bright,

how shiny is her sun,

that you don't like my cloudy eyes

when they rain instead of run.

Would that be wise?

She's so fun and light.

So, how could I blame you?

Hey, I'm just your orange routine

the pumpkin you blew

huh, for that watermelon flavoured teen.

You loved short nights,

but I know you'll come back

to cozy blanket comic book times.

Even if you reminisce the not so dark.

Even with my heart as your crime.

Hi, I'm fall.

Hey, I'm falling!

Ouch, I fell.

Man, he fell.

Fuck, just not for fall.

Just a couple minutes after Ryan left you made your way to the Cohen’s. 

"Hi, Kirsten!"

"Hey kid! Is that for Seth? You can put it in the fridge."

"Uhm, this is actually for Ryan. Is he in the pool house?" the woman avoided asking all the questions she had in that moment.

"I don't know, I've just arrived. You can go check yourself." and so you did.

"Hey, Ryan! Are you at ho... Oh. Hi, Seth." the way all your muscles contracted when you saw him didn’t go unnoticed.

"Glad to see you're better." you left the cake in the fridge.

"Yeah, you know. With the right pills..." you shove your hands into the rear pockets of your jeans. "I should get going." you walked to the door.

"Is this true?" you turned around and saw for the first time the paper he was holding in his hand.

"What is tha... Wait, Ryan gave it to you? But he pro-"

"I took it thinking it was some random kid's bad poetry."

"Oh." you turned around. "Yep, I should definitely get going." you didn't know when he got so fast but in no time you feel a hand on your wrist.

"Tell me, is this true?" you turned to face him, but your eyes didn't meet his.

"Look, Seth. I've got my feelings hurt again and again enough. I don't wanna have to do this." you looked up to see his eyes.

"The truth. Please." his gaze was soft and you've never had the willpower to deny him anything, not even help with Summer.

"I-" you didn't know how to start. "It doesn't even matter. What do you want? Make fun of me for the rest of your life?"

"So it's really about my crush for Summer?"

"Seth, let it be. I don't want you mocking me, I have enough seeing you drooling over other girl!"

"There's no other girl."

"Oh, come on! It's always 'Summer this', 'Summer that' and-"

"I've never liked Summer!" he cut you off. "She was never an option, I only started that because you clearly never wanted anything to do with me, so I tried to make you think I wasn't in love with you when I clearly always had a crush on you. No, not even a crush begins to describe what I genuinely feel for you."

"What?"

"Are you going to make me say all that aga-" he was cut mid sentence, right when you understood he liked you and couldn't resist but to kiss him, this time it started more abruptly than the other, but then it became sweeter and with even more feelings noticeable than in the first.

"Hey, kid. Kirsten says that you were looki-" Sandy stopped when he saw your lips stuck to his son's, it seemed like today you were gonna leave every Cohen mid-sentence. You moved away as fast as you could. "Is this another stunt or can I scream 'FINALLY!' this time?" you were so embarrassed that you had to leave almost running.

"Good afternoon, Sandy." you said as you walked past him without making eye contact.

"Good job, dad. Good job." said Seth as he retired to his room.

"So is it for real this time?" he screamed after his son but his question went ignored.

You left on delivered the "hey" Seth texted you that evening because you were processing everything. You knew you'd encounter him at class, but you didn't have it in yourself to answer.

"Hey, can we talk?" Marissa approached you, which wasn't extremely weird, just not common.

"Of course. Do you need more pastries for the fair? I can bake some more." you assumed this was the topic based on your latest interactions.

"Oh no, you made more than enough. I wanted to talk about Seth." your demeanor stiffen with those words. "I know it's not my place, but he really likes you. Yesterday when I came home with Ryan he told us everything, he wanted me to stay because, in his words, he wanted a 'feminine opinion on the matter'."

"Uhm."

"I know we aren't the closest, but I've seen the way you pine for him and I can assure you he feels the same." she laughed a little when she remembered something. "Yesterday he was frantic when you didn't respond to his text, I really considered him having a panic attack from how fast he paced the room. Anyways, what I wanted to tell you is that maybe you should try talking to him"

"Thank you, Marissa. I'll see what I'll do." she smiled at you and went back to her locker, just for you to establish eye contact with a certain brunette you have been trying to ignore. Your face was warmer with every step he took in your direction.

"Hey." he said when he was finally in front of you.

"Hey." it was the most awkward interaction you have had in years.

"I wanted to talk to you but you ignored my message."

"I know. I'm sorry." you said truthfully. "Need a ride? We can talk in my house."

"Awesome." he said while you started walking. There was a thick tension all the time you were inside the car, you even rolled your window down for a little fresh air.

"So you like me?" you nodded with your eyes closed. "And I clearly like you, so why the hell are you ignoring me?" he asked the moment both of you stepped into the living room while you looked at his confused eyes.

"I'm not sure." he gave you the are-you-for-fucking-real look you knew too well. "I guess I still don't fully believe that you like me instead of her." you avoided his eyes while being vulnerable. "And I think I got overwhelmed when Sandy saw us kiss and I panicked and ran away."

"I meant every word I said yesterday and what I said at the event you kissed me, I genuinely think you are the smartest, funniest and most gorgeous girl I've seen in my life. And don't get me started on how hot you are because I could tell you how I discovered what was an erection."

"Seth!" you made a little fuss, your glassy eyes now with a shy smile in them.

" Better, prepubescent Seth would've hated me."

"More than enough information!" a quick pause made its way between you two.

"And as for my dad, I think he learned to knock on doors after that." you chuckled a little at that, his hands reaching to your cheeks to swipe the remains of tears you had.

"Maybe we can try it now, my parents won't come back for a couple hours yet..." he cupped your face and leaned in, for the first time the kiss was everything it had to be: calm but exciting and, specially, truthful. Even if the first part didn't last long as the passion of adolescence hit both of you.

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

a/n: I always like to recommend a song that I think would fit with the fic and this time is no other than 'Girl Crush' specifically the version by Harry Styles.

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[dianawinchester03]

Season 3, Episode 11 - Mystery Spot (Part Two)

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is Part Two, you need to read Part One in order to understand.

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form, Dean residing on their bed next to her, tying his shoelaces as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, probably still pussy-drunk.

‘Telling you what your heart is’

‘The heat of the moment’

“Rise and Shine, Sammy!” He greeted before turning around to press a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead, Y/N was as stiff as a board, “Mornin’ sweetheart” He cooed. Their eyes were wide with horror, Y/N was still stiff as she and Sam’s tired and stress filled eyes connected, they shared a look before slowly lowering their backs to the back, both filled with despair as they tried to breath, staring at the ceiling.

‘Showed in your eyes’

‘It was the heat of the moment’

-

Now at the diner, Y/N sat across from Dean this time, next to Sam as they stared at him with nothing but pain in their eyes. They just explained the situation to him again, “I still think y’all are nuts, but ... whatever this is, we'll figure it out.” He assured them, reaching across to place a comforting hand on Y/N’s. The same hand that was severed the day before.

The psychic flinched slightly, almost pulling away her hand from his but she couldn’t bring herself to. The elder Winchester gave her a reassuring squeeze, "It's gonna be alright, sweetheart." He whispered to her softly, Sam's head dropping to rub his temples. Y/N wanted to believe Dean, of course she did, but she couldn't shake the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that things would go wrong again.

“Thanks” She responded hoarsely. “So, uh ... If y’all are stuck in "Groundhog Day", why? What's behind it?” Dean asked wearily as he retracted his hand from his girlfriend. Y/N’s hand reached up to clutch her locket, “Well, first we thought it was the Mystery Spot. Now…” Sam began, glancing over to Y/N. “We’re not so sure.” She finished with a tired sigh, her heart aching in her chest.

“What do we do?” Dean asked, tilting his head. “Well, we keep you breathing. Try to make it to tomorrow. I mean, that's the only thing we can think of.” Sam responded tiredly, “Shouldn't be too hard.” Dean shrugged, “Yeah, right. Dean, we’ve watched you die a few times now and we can't ever seem to stop it.” Y/N scoffed, running her tongue between her chapped lips.

“Well, nothing's set in stone. You guys say I order the same thing every day, right?” Dean smirked. The duo nodded, “Yeah. Pig in a poke, side of bacon.” Sam answered. Dean turned to Doris, who was standing by the window to the kitchen, talking with the cook. “'Scuse me, sweetheart?” He called out to her, the elder woman turning at the sound of his voice.

“Can I get sausage instead of bacon?” He smiled charmingly, which caused Y/N to raise a brow at him. “Sure thing, hon.” Doris responded before turning back to the cook. Dean turned back to Sam and Y/N with a reassuring look, “See? Different day already.” Sam and Y/N couldn't help but crack a small smile as Dean leaned over to say, “You see, if we all decide that I am not gonna die….I’m not gonna die.”

Doris then brought over Dean’s food, flashing him a sweet smile, “Thank you” Dean thanked her gratefully as she placed down the utensils and walked off. He stabbed one of the sausage links with his fork, reaching over to offer Y/N some since she didn’t order any breakfast.

Y/N glanced from Dean's hopeful expression to the offered sausage link before shaking her head politely. "I'm not that hungry sweetie, thank you though." She replied softly, her hand coming up back to play with her necklace. Dean shrugged before bringing the sausage to his mouth and Sam grinned, chuckling at the way his brother chewed exaggeratedly.

Suddenly, Dean’s chewing halted when the sausage went down the wrong pipe. Dean’s gagging alarmed the duo, their faces falling as Dean clutched his throat, his eyes crossing, “Dean? Dean?!”

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

“You mean we can’t even go out for breakfast?!” Dean shouted from the bathroom, poking out his shampoo lathered head from the shower as Y/N sat on the toilet seat, smoking a cigarette. “You’ll thank us when it’s Wednesday!” Sam shouted back from outside, “Whatever that means.” Dean huffed as he glanced down at Y/N with a suggestive grin.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her (e/c) eyes at the elder Winchester as she inhaled a lungful of smoke. With an arched brow, she exhaled the smoke through her nose with a sigh, "Nuh-uh, mister. Don’t gimme that look, finish your shower." She demanded sternly as she crossed her legs, placing the cigarette between her lips again.

“Oh, come on, babe. What's wrong with a little morning fun? You’ll be my breakfast” Dean teased huskily, his wet body leaned against the shower wall as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Y/N rolled her eyes, her head shaking slightly, "It's not happening, Dean. You could get hurt." She protested, inhaling from the almost finished cigarette.

Dean chuckled as he closed the curtain again and rinsed the shampoo soap suds from his head, "You weren’t sayin’ that last night was I was—"

“Shut up and shower!" She snapped, her face flushed as she dropped the cigarette between her legs and into the toilet bowl. She heard Dean cackled loudly before he yelped, “AHHH!” slipping and crashing into the floor with a thud. Y/N buried head into her hands tiredly while Sam was outside by the window, flinching at the sound with wide eyes.

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form, Dean residing on their bed next to her, tying his shoelaces as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, probably still pussy-drunk.

‘Telling you what your heart is’

‘The heat of the moment’

“Rise and Shine, Sammy!” He greeted before turning around to press a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead, Y/N was as stiff as a board, “Mornin’ sweetheart” He cooed.

‘Showed in your eyes’

‘It was the heat of the—‘

The music was cut short when Y/N extended her hand outwards, her veins shining blue and her eyes flashing white as she sent the radio flying into the wall. The radio cracked into pieces with a loud crash as Sam stared blankly at it. Dean's head snapped over to Y/N with an arched brow, "Jeez, is it shark week already?" He asked, perplexed. Y/N exhaled heavily, tossing herself back into the bed with a loud groan.

-

The trio was sitting at the small desk in the motel room, Y/N next to her boyfriend as he bit into his taco, crunching loudly. “Do these tacos taste funny to y’all?” He asked them with a stuffed mouth and furrowed brows. Sam and Y/N shared a tired look, closing their eyes, awaiting to hear—

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

Dean stood in the bathroom, plugging in an electric razor when suddenly it electrocuted him, his body seizing in place.

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

“Nothin’ better than a cup of joe and a cigarette in the morning” Dean sighed contently as he leaned back into the motel room chair, a mug of coffee in one hand and a cigarette tucked between his fingers in the other. Sam and Y/N were packing their bags in a hurry when suddenly Dean started to choke, having accidentally inhaled the cigarette. The cancer stick now stuck in his esophagus.

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with wide eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

Now night time, back at the Mystery Spot, tired, frustrated and all around losing their minds, Sam and Y/N wielded their axes, driving it into the walls of the building while Dean grinned up at the owner they had duct taped to the chair. “Everybody's fine, nobody's gonna get hurt, okay? Sammy? Y/N/N?” He told the man assuringly.

The duo stopped, turning to Dean as their nostrils flared, breathing heavily from all the heavy lifting and pounding, “Maybe you guys should drop the axes and let this guy go, what do y’all say?” Dean suggested to them, “Something's gotta be going on here. We intend to find out what!” Sam insisted before going back to pounding away.

“Have at it, I’m taking a rest.” Y/N nearly wheezed as she dropped the axe, the iron clattering to the ground as she clutched her knees, bending over. Sam grunted and pounded away a little harder, Y/N glanced up, seeing the owner struggling, she straightened her back, catching her breath.

“Sheesh, I gotta lay off the cigarettes” She wheezed, holding her chest as the owner glanced at Y/N, giving pleading eyes as if she'd have mercy on him, she just stared at him with tired eyes, her breathing returning to normal. Dean snorted in amusement, “Place is tore up pretty good, dude. Do like Y/N. Time to give it a rest.” Dean suggested as he pushed himself up to his feet.

“NO! I'm gonna take it down to studs.” Sam barked, before swinging again. Dean chuckled over to the petrified owner as he walked over to his brother, “Sammy, that's enough. Give me the axe.” He demanded calmly. “Leave it, Dean” Sam snapped back as Dean tried to take the axe away from him. “Give it!” Dean pulled the axe back again but Sam clutched on.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when she realized the blade of the axe was aimed towards Dean’s chest, “Uh— fellas, maybe you should—” She tried to warn them, only to be ignored. “No you give it! Sam shouted back. “Let it go!” Dean grunted more forcefully now.

“No!”

“Let it go, come on!”

“FELLAS!” Y/N rushed over to stop them but it was too late.

“Dean, leave it, please—” Dean’s body fell flat to the floor, the blade of the axe buried in his chest, his body falling to the floor with a thud. His blood splattered across the owner's face as he screamed through his muffles. “DEAN?!”

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two shooting up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

The diner door chimed as Dean opened it, allowing Y/N in and then Sam. The two had dead looks on their faces as they walked in. Upon entrance, a cashier giving an older man his change said, “Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett.” in a polite tone. To which, “Yeah, yeah.” Mr. Pickett grumbled, waving him off dismissively.

Sam purposely bumped into the man, pickpocketing his car keys and stuffing in to his pocket with a blank face as, “Order up!” A cook said in the back as they found a table. “Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules.” A waitress said warningly to a disheveled looking young man, who passed her some change in quarters.

Sam plopped into one side of their booth, sliding in before allowing Y/N to plop next to him as Dean slid in across them. Dean sighed contently as he squinted his eyes at a poster on the wall, “Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke.” He pointed out with a cheerful smile to the duo. Sam wordlessly slapped down Mr. Pickett’s keys on the table.

“What are those?” Dean asked his brother, confused. “The old man’s” Sam answered dryly as Dean blinked at him in shock. “Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel.” Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. The waitress then approached them with a notepad in her hand, “You boys and girl ready?” She asked politely.

“Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee.” Dean ordered before turning to Y/N, he didn’t get a chance to order for her since, “Hey, Doris? What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot.” The psychic said dryly with a twinger of attitude, her tone condescending. Doris squinted at her, confused, “How do you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” Y/N offered her a fake smile, her face dropping and eyes rolling as the woman walked away. Dean was officially weirded out, his eyes shifting between his brother and girlfriend, “Okay, so you guys think you're caught in some kind of what, again?” Dean asked, wearily. “Time loop” The duo answered tiredly. “Like Groundhog Day?”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s no way to stop it.” Y/N answered a bit snippily, “Jeez, aren’t you two grumpy. Is it—” Dean smirked, only to be interrupted. “No, it’s not shark week, Dean. You know damn well it’s not SHARK WEEK!” She snapped, banging her fist down on the table, causing Dean to flinch slightly in surprise. “Of course we’re grumpy, Dean. And you wanna know why?” Sam chimed in.

“Why?” Dean asked wearily with a raised brow. “Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row we’ve been through and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, we’re a little grumpy.” Sam explained in an exasperated tone, his eyes narrowed at his brother. Their faces clear with anger, “Hot sauce.” Y/N suddenly said, “What?” Dean asked, confused.

Doris appeared in front of them, carrying a tray. She placed their drinks down on the table one by one, “One coffee, black and some hot sauce for the—” Her words died in her throat, a gasp leaving her lips when the bottle of hot sauce wobbled out of balance on the tray.

Y/N was quick to extend her hand out, her veins shining blue and her eyes flashing white. She stopped the bottle midair, her eyes still piercing into Dean’s as she slid her hand slightly, slapping the sauce onto the table. Doris stood dumbfounded, watching as Y/N’s eyes reverted back to his usual color. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re not gonna remember that tomorrow.” She fake-smiled up at the shaken woman.

“O-okay? Thanks?” She stammered as she walked away in stammered steps. Y/N’s face fell, “Nice reflexes.” Dean commented, “She knew it was going to happen, Dean. We know everything that's gonna happen.” Sam replied sharply, “You don't know everything.” Dean scoffed, “Yeah, we do.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend, challenging him.

“Yeah, right. Nice guess.” Sam, Dean and Y/N said in unison, causing the elder Winchester’s face to fall. “It wasn't a guess.” Sam and Y/N said simultaneously,

“Right, you're mind readers. Cut it out, guys. Guys. Okay, y’all are getting creepy.” Sam, Dean and Y/N said. Dean glared at them before the brothers leaned over the table simultaneously.

“You think you're being funny but you're being really really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he— Okay, enough!” Dean threw up his hands

This time, he turned to Y/N. She smirked as they now leaned over the table simultaneously. “Y/N L/N‘s a lousy kisser. Y/N L/N has a ‘daddy’ kink. Y/N L/N likes it when I stick my tongue up her— OKAY OKAY STOP!” He threw his hands up once more, leaning into his seat as he stared at the two with horror.

“That's not all.” Sam stated stiffly, turning to the cashier who was leaning over the counter, writing on a notepad. He jerked his head in his direction as he said, “Randy the cashier? He's skimming from the register.” He pointed out, glancing back to Dean, “Judge Myers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit.” Y/N added with a little amused snort.

Judge Myers, who was seated behind them, sipping his strawberry milkshake. Overheard, accidentally dropping his glass before, spilling the contents on the table. “Over there, that's Cal.” Sam jerked his head in the direction of the shaggy looking man who was ordering coffee earlier. “He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home.”

“What’s your point, Wonder Twins?” Dean asked with wide eyes, genuinely freaked out by them. “Our point is we’ve lived through every possible Tuesday. We’ve watched you die every possible way. We have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything we know to save your life, and we can't.” Sam stated through gritted teeth as Y/N clutched her fist around the salt shaker on the table.

“No matter what we do, you die. And then we wake up, I’m naked. And then it's Tuesday again.” Y/N finished, slamming the salt shaker down.

-

After breakfast, the trio walked down the street on the pavement, Sam and Y/N’s faces were hard as they stuffed their hands into their pockets. “Dog.” Y/N said, on cue the golden retriever started barking, tied to a bike rack from the past hundred days. “There's gotta be some way out of this.” Dean insisted, eyeing the two. “Where’s my dang keys?” Sam mimicked Mr. Pickett’s words.

Dean was confused, only to hear as they were passing him, “Where's my dang keys?” Mr. Pickett mumbled as he searched his pockets for the keys Sam had lifted, “‘Scuse me” Y/N mimicked, just as The young blonde woman from the past hundred days, carrying a stack of flyers clutched to her chest, walking near them, accidentally collided shoulders with Dean before carrying along her way.

Dean stopped, “Hey” putting his hands out to stop the two in their tracks also. “All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?” He asked, turning on his heels before rushing over to the blonde girl. “Excuse me, miss!” He called out to her as Sam squinted his eyes and Y/N tilted her head at Dean, “No…” They hummed in unison. Y/N’s eyes snapped over to Sam, “Okay, he’s right, that is getting creepy” She murmured as Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff.

After their short conversation, the young woman gave Dean one of the papers, he thanked her before strolling back over to the ‘Wonder Twins’ with the flyer on hand, “A hundred Tuesdays and you two never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?” Dean asked them, only to receive a shrug in response. “Ain’t this the guy who went missing?” Dean said as he held up the flyer.

They stared at the name "DEXTER HASSELBACK" under the picture from the newspaper clipping, “Yeah.” Sam nodded as Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “That's his daughter back there.” Dean informed them, their eyes widened. Gaping slightly before Y/N snatched the paper from her boyfriend.

She and Sam rushed after the young woman, “Ma'am? Ah, Miss?” Sam called out to her. “Yes?” The woman turned around, smiling politely at them, her eyes dull as she clutched the flyers to her chest. “May we have a word with you, hun? It won’t be long” Y/N replied sweetly as she and Sam stopped in front of her.

Meanwhile, Dean stayed back near the golden retriever tied to the bike rack. Suddenly, the supposedly loving dog began growling ferociously at the elder Winchester, eyeing him like prey. Dean glanced down at the dog with a sweet smile, Hey buddy! Somebody need a friend?” He walked over to the animal, reaching down to pet him, “Good boy— aaah!”

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two shooting up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form.

-

Now in the diner, Dean is shoveling food into his mouth while Sam is across from him and Y/N on his laptop, “So the police report says Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is.” Sam said as he scrolled through the article, “What is he?” Dean asked with a mouth full of food, sauce leaking down down his lips.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes at her man child of a boyfriend as she used her thumb to wipe away the smeared ketchup on the corner of his mouth before sucking it off her thumb. Dean glanced at his girlfriend, giving her a wink before turning to his brother, swallowing his food once he was done chewing it and washed it down with a mouthful of hot coffee.

Sam shifted his eyes from his laptop once again, “I talked to his daughter. Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog.” Y/N told him, “He writes about tourist attractions. Mystery spots, UFO crash sites—he gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here.” Sam added before turning his laptop to face Dean and Y/N.

Onscreen was the biography of the author of the blog ‘The Hasselback Report’ with a picture of Hasselback and a headline that Dean read aloud. “Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior? More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me.” He scoffed, his brows scrunched together. Y/N chuckled in agreement, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written and he must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself. ” Sam agreed also, causing Y/N to cackle at his statement. “Burn!” She laughed, raising her hand up for him to high-five. Sam, with a grin, high-fived her in triumph. Dean narrowed his eyes at the duo, “When'd you two have time to do all this research?” He asked.

Sam and Y/N sighed. “Come on.” Sam prompted them to leave, closing his laptop as Dean placed a twenty down on the counter, chuckling to himself. “What?” Y/N asked with a raised brow as she slid out the booth beside him. “I just— it's just funny, you know, I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes into one.”

Y/N tucked her lips into her mouth to stop herself from laughing, “I get it, It's kinda poetic, you know, just desserts.” She chuckled, nodding in agreement. Her smile fell, noticing a plate with a piece of pancake and strawberry syrup residue. Sam nodded, “You’re right, that is just desserts.” Hitching his laptop bag up on his shoulder.

He went to follow behind Dean but Y/N gripped his hand, pointing to the plate. It was now Sam’s smile turn to fall, his eyes glancing back over to the mug of strawberry syrup. This wasn’t right. Dean stopped when he noticed the two not following behind him, “What's wrong, guys?” He asked the concerned as he walked back to them.

The duo turned, watching the guy as he walked past the diner windows outside. “Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?” Sam murmured suspiciously, “It's a free country. Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?” Dean joked, “Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever….. Except us….” Y/N shook her head as she spoke stiffly, glancing back over to Sam who held the same expression.

-

‘Heat of the moment’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose like zombies with cold eyes up at the sound of the music as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to her naked form, Dean residing on their bed next to her, tying his shoelaces as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, probably still pussy-drunk.

‘Telling you what your heart is’

‘The heat of the moment’

“Rise and Shine, Sammy!” He greeted before turning around to press a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead, Y/N was as stiff as a board, “Mornin’ sweetheart” He cooed. Sam and Y/N’s eyes connected, the two communicated with their eyes, sharing a firm nod before slowly lowering their backs to the back, both filled with pure anger.

‘Showed in your eyes’

‘It was the heat of the moment’

-

Now in the diner, Sam and Y/N were seconds away from exploding as they glared at the man’s back. He was eating his pancakes with maple syrup, like the last hundred Tuesdays. Minus his fluke yesterday with the strawberry syrup.

They kept their eyes locked on the man’s back as Dean ate, “So you guys think you're caught in some kind of what, again?” The elder Winchester asked with furrowed brows. Y/N’s eyes snapped over to him as Sam kept his eye on the man. “Eat your breakfast.” She stated gruffly, turning back to the man. Dean blinked, choosing not to question her for his own safety and resuming his eating.

The man got up from his seat at the counter, leaving the plate and some money. Sam and Y/N watched him from the corner of their eyes, as Sam took out the brown paper bag with the wooden stakes he had hidden in his jacket. They got up wordlessly and followed behind the man, leaving Dean at the table, “What’s in the bag?” Dean called out to them.

He was confused at their urgency, fishing out his wallet to slap a twenty onto the table before following behind them out of the diner.

-

The man walked down the street casually, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. Y/N appeared, snatching the man by his collar and slamming him into a fence as Sam emerged from behind her, pressing the tip of one of the stakes at the base of his throat. The psychic saw that little white glow at the base of his throat before it disappeared. This only confirmed her suspicion.

“Hey!” The man yelped in surprise, dropping his toothpick on to the ground, his eyes widening at the sight of the two strangers. His gaze flicked over to Y/N’s cold, murderous stare, then to Sam as he pressed the stake harder into his neck. “I know who you are. Or should I say, what.” Sam sneered at him.

Dean watched the two with wide eyes, “Oh, God. Please don’t kill me” The man pleaded, his voice shaking. “Uh…Sam? Y/N?” Dean tried to chime in, getting a bit nervous. “It took us a long time, but we got it.” Y/N’s lips curled into a snarl as she tightened her grip on the man.

Her veins lit up blue and her eyes shining over white once more as she lifted him slightly off his feet, his back hitching up the fence. “You had me going there for a sec, not gonna lie.” She spat venomously as the man breathed heavily in pain as his back hit hard against the fence again and again with such force. He was trying to sell the terrified act as he began shaking, “What?”

“It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts—your kind loves that, don't they?” Sam barked, as Dean’s eyes shifted between them and the man. “Yeah, sure, okay.” The man’s voice cracked as his feet dangled from the ground, glancing down nervously at the stake. “Just put the stake down” He pleaded.

“Guys, maybe you should—” Dean was cut off by Y/N shouting at him because they didn’t buy what this guy was selling, “No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops— in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster.” She whispered the last part menacingly, kneeing him in his midsection.

The man grunted when Y/N’s knee connected with his stomach, his face contorting up in pain, “Mister, Miss. my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space—”

“Don't lie to us! We know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!” Sam bellowed, pressing the stake further into his throat. Suddenly, the man morphed into the ‘Trickster’ they tangled with nearly a year ago. The trios eyes went wide. “Actually, buckos, you didn't.” He smirked.

Y/N slammed the Trickster hard against the fence before rearing her head back and head butting him in the nose. He grunted heavily, “You can keep doing that, sister, it’s only turning me on— GAH!” The Trickster's smirk disappeared, his head snapping to the side when Dean reached over and clicked him straight across the face, some blood dripping down his chin from his nose.

“Don't get funny ideas, buddy” Dean warned through clenched teeth. The Trickster glared at the elder Winchester, his nose trickling blood, his eyes flickering over to Sam who still held the stake at his neck. “Why're you doing this?” Sam demanded gruffly, his nostrils flaring with anger. “You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?” The Trickster stated as if it was obvious.

“And Hasselback, what about him?” Dean demanded, “That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one.” The Trickster mused before cackling maniacally. “Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town.” The Trickster stated cockily, smiling wickedly. “So this is fun for you? Killing my man over and over again?” Y/N snarled, her blue veins pulsing.

“One, yes. It is fun.” This made Dean blink, slightly offended. “ And two? This is soooo not about killing Dean. This joke is on you two. Watching Dean die, every day? Forever?” The Trickster said menacingly. Sam and Y/N clenched their jaws, swallowing the lumps in the throats as they quite literally shook. “You son of a bitch.” Sam growled as he tightened his grip on the stake.

“How long will it take you guys to realize? You can't save Dean…..No matter what.” Dean swallowed harshly at the Trickster’s words, tearing his eyes away from him. “Oh, yeah? Sam kills you and this all ends now.” Y/N gritted her teeth as Sam pressed the stake deeper into his neck but not hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, gou two’ll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear.” The Trickster bargained. “You’re lying” Y/N scoffed, her white eyes piercing into his, searching for any form on a bluff. “If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner.”

Sam and Y/N shared a look before glancing over to Dean, who didn’t buy it for a second. “Nah, easier to just kill you.” Sam smirked, “Sorry, kiddos. Can't have that.” With that, the Trickster snapped his fingers.

____________________________________________

‘But you better promise me I'll be back in time’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two shooting up at the sound of something other than that god awful song as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to what she expected to be her naked form. But instead, she was fully clothed. They expected to see Dean on his and Y/N’s bed, their wide eyes scanning the room.

‘Gotta get back in time’

Instead, the pipe to the bathroom sink shut off, Dean with his toothbrush in his hand as his eyes met with his brother’s. “What, y’all gon sleep all day?” Dean called out, “No Asia” Sam nearly gaped, “Yeah, I know, this station sucks” Dean scoffed as Y/N’s eyes flickered over to the clock radio, “Sammy, it’s Wednesday!!” Y/N gasped, causing Sam to let out his own gasp as he shot up from the bed to get a proper look at the clock.

‘On a roll of the dice’

Dean eyed the two weirdly as his brother looked like he was ready to kiss that clock radio. “Yeah, which usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, would you? Unless you wanna make out with it” Dean snorted as he spat in the sink. “What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?!” Sam grinned as Y/N pushed herself from her bed.

“No. Jeez, how many Tuesdays did you two have?” Dean’s eyes were wide as he spoke. “I don’t know, I lost count” Y/N said as she snatched up her jacket from her bag, tossing Sam his from the chair. “Hey, wait. What do you remember?” Sam asked as he caught the shirt with one hand, shoving his arms through the holes.

“I remember you guys were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then I remember running into the trickster. But no, that’s about it” Dean told them as they listened intently, nodding. “All right, babe. I’m gonna pack our stuff. Sam, get your shit together and let's get the fuck out of town. Now.” Y/N said firmly to the boys.

Sam didn’t need to be told twice, without hesitation, he quickly began to stuff his things back in his bag as if someone lit a fire under their asses. Dean blinked, slightly surprised at the two’s sudden rush, “No breakfast?”

“No breakfast.” Y/N said firmly once more, her heart swelling at the way Dean got all pouty. She walked over to the bathroom door, where he stood, before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips when Sam wasn’t looking. Dean’s frown turned upside as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush into him.

His left hand rested above her ass as his right hand came up to cup her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sudden move, deepening the kiss. The kiss was sweet, yet hot as honey. Dean was in complete bliss with Y/N in his arm and her lips on his. “Guys, not the time!” Sam chastised the two.

-

Dean was now out in the parking lot, pulling a shotgun out of the secret compartment before he placed it in a duffel bag. He slammed the compartment shut and then placed the bag in the trunk before locking that also. He felt a presence behind him, “You sure we should just let the Trickster go?” He asked, assuming it was Sam or Y/N.

He spun around to see it was neither, his eyes going straight to the handgun being pointed at him by none other than Cal from the diner. “Gimme your wallet.” The disheveled man demanded, not sounding quite confident as his hand shook. “Whoa whoa whoa, buddy, just relax.” Dean tried to ease the situation, placing his hands up.

“I am relaxed!” Cal shouted stiffly, his tone still not convincing. “Okay, all right, nobody wants this to end the wrong way, let's talk about it a sec.” Dean said calmly, nodding understandably.

Meanwhile, Sam and Y/N were still in the motel room, getting together the last of their stuff when they heard a shot ring out from the parking lot. Their heads snapped in the direction of the door, “DEAN!” “CHARMING!” left their lips in a tone of horror as Y/N yanked her gun out of the back of her pants.

Just as they were rushing down the stairs, their eyes landed on Dean seizing on the ground as blood spewed out of the gunshot wound in the middle of his chest. Their blood ran cold as Y/N saw Cal from the diner running away from the scene with Dean’s wallet in his hand.

She pointed her gun at him, firing two shots, missing narrowly. “No, no, no, no” Sam pleaded as he rushed over to his brother's side, Y/N came running to Dean’s other side, “Not again, please not again,” She cried. “Hey, hey. Come on, not today. Not today.” Sam cried as he and Y/N cradled Dean’s limp body.

“Please, baby, this isn’t supposed to happen today. Please.” Y/N pleaded as she shook him. Sam and Y/N breathed heavily as they closed their eyes, praying to wake up to that god awful song. Their eyes snapped open when nothing happened, seeing Dean still dead.

“We’re supposed to wake up, why aren’t we waking up Sammy? We’re supposed to wake up” Y/N cried, her voice going hoarse. Sam was panicking just as much as Y/N was, tears falling from his eyes as he glanced around frantically to see if anything changed, to wake up as it's usually been these past hundred Tuesdays.

But it wasn’t Tuesday. It was Wednesday.

Sam’s face was white as a sheet as he shook his head, his heart feeling as though it was going to burst from his chest any second. He tried to speak but the words were lodged in his throat. They began sobbing freely, their faces stuffed into either side of Dean’s shoulders, still cradling his limp body.

____________________________________________

Somewhere In The US

•Six Months Later

The Impala sped down the desolate dark road with Sam Winchester behind the wheel, a sunken and dark expression coated his face while Y/N rode beside him on her Harley.

‘It’s Sam, leave me a message’

‘It’s Y/N, don’t fucking call me’

Their phones went to voicemail as Bobby spoke through the receiver end,

‘Sam? It's Bobby. Heard about that demon thing you and Y/N took care of in Death Valley. Nice job. Been about three months we talked, though. Be nice to hear your voice. Give a call. I'm here.’

Next was Jo’s voicemail,

‘Y/N/N, hey. It’s me, Jo. Look….I know these past few months have been hard, but the least you can do is call me and tell me you and Sam are okay. I haven’t heard from Sam in weeks and I’m worried.’

The two had been ignoring their family and friends for the past months. Just the two of them on the road trying to hunt anything that would cross their paths. The only person they would communicate with was each other, only when necessary.

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t love Jo, he fucking craved her. Needed her everyday, but the grief of losing Dean, it consumed him. He spoke to her, saw her a few times, not completely shutting out his angel but he kept her at arm's length, not wanting her a part of their score to settle, especially since it was sending them down a path of destruction.

The same could be said for Y/N. Ever since Dean died, she withdrew from all contact. Not wanting to be around other people other than Sam who was going through the same pain as her.

She found herself looking at her and Dean’s first polaroids together, she couldn’t even watch their sex tape without breaking down. Much less videos taken on her ancient camcorder of them just goofing off (mainly Dean) while Sam chastised them in the background for behaving unmannerly.

It felt like a different life, a life without Dean was truly not worth living. The only thing that kept her going was the possibility of finding that fuckin Trickster and wrangling him into bringing back Dean.

-

Havenwood, Georgia

Sam was now in the driveway of Y/N’s safehouse, the cold night air fanning across his face as he opened the trunk to the Impala. Y/N was parked next to him, peeling off her helmet before mounting her bike. The two were tired, the bags under their eyes as bad as ever.

Neither had any sleep nor any proper food, only stopping for beer and gas. Sam took out two shotguns, tossing one to Y/N. The psychic caught it with ease before Sam slammed the trunk close.

-

Y/N limped into the house, having been shot in the thigh as Sam clutched his right rib cage, having been shot right before his pec. Sam gritted his teeth as he peeled off his overshirt; his T-shirt blood-soaked. Sam began cutting up through the bloodstain to reveal a bleeding wound.

Neither said anything to one another as they tossed their jackets onto the couch and took turns to sit on it as they patched each other’s wounds up. Their movements were slow and silent as they worked. Their expressions remained blank and emotionless as ever, even when they doused their wounds with peroxide.

Even when they dug around their wounds to pull out the bullets. Even when they stitched up the lacerations with needle and thread.

-

Sam sat across from Y/N at the kitchen table, texting Jo. ‘On the road with Y/N/N, call you when I can. I miss you and I love you, angel’ before turning his phone off and resting it to the side.

Just as Y/N shoveled a piece of the bland chicken into her mouth, she heard the landline finally stop ringing along with a beep.

‘Kids? Bobby again. Look, I'm worried about you two.’ Bobby’s genuinely concerned tone rang through the empty house.

Y/N dropped her fork into the half-eaten plate of food before resting her elbows onto the table, bringing her head into her hands, shutting her tired, lifeless eyes. Even Sam let out a deep sigh as he listened to the voicemail, his thumbs beginning to tap on the table at a fast pace.

‘Just tell me you guys are not sitting alone somewhere obsessing over this damn Trickster. Call me, please. We can find it together. No one should take something like this on alone. Y’all hear me? Jo’s goin’ crazy over here, call the poor girl. She loves you, Sam. And she loves you too, Y/N. Don’t shut her out. By the way, that vampire nest in Austin, hell of a job.’

Y/N could feel her heartstrings snapping as she listen to Bobby. It physically and emotionally hurt to hear the worry in the man's voice. She leaned back into the chair, crossing her arms over her chest while Sam stared blankly at his empty plate before bringing a hand up to run his palm over his tired face. The guilt weighing on his heart.

-

Later that night, Sam was cleaning a gun in Y/N’s room while she arranged some notes on the wall. Which was plastered with maps and newspaper clippings and security-camera stills featuring the Trickster, arranged in neat lines with none of them overlapping. It was perfectly articulated by them, making sure the case was perfect.

-

Y/N’s eye snapped open from her not-so-peaceful sleep. Not having Dean’s touch to help her get a proper slumber had her waking up with more than a hole in her chest. She sat up stiffly, rubbing at the tiredness in her eyes before she began to make her bed with military precision.

Sam had barely slept either in his room. The only 'sleep' he got was just him laying there, tossing and turning. Having to go into an empty bed at night, without Jo in his arms, only made him feel shittier and more lonely than ever. He did exactly as Y/N did, making the bed up with military precision.

Just as they were walking downstairs after brushing their teeth, now headed to probably eat some leftover pizza and day-old coffee, they heard the landline ring. Sam scoffed as Y/N rolled her eyes, ignoring the ringing as they went along with their routine.

Neither of them were too eager to pick up the phone, knowing who was on the other side. But it rang and rang and rang. That was until there was a click along with the answer machine.

‘Guys? It’s Jo, me and Bobby found him’

Now that piqued their interest, their heads snapping in the direction of the landline.

-

Mystery Spot

Bobby and Jo were kneeling on the floor turning the pages of a book, which was dead center of a chalked diagram with three candles and three bowls of unidentified substances. Sam and Y/N entered the room behind them, their dark, suspicious and narrowed eyes trained on them.

Upon hearing their footsteps, Bobby and Jo perked up. Sad smiles spreading across their faces, “It’s good to see you, kids” Bobby’s voice was filled with emotion as he walked over and hugged Sam while Jo wrapped her arms around Y/N.

Sam didn’t return the hug to Bobby and neither did Y/N return the hug to Jo, their bodies remaining stiff. Her eyes stung with tears as she couldn’t bring herself to hug back her best friend. Bobby pulled away from Sam with a deep sigh as Jo glanced over to him nervously.

“You’re not gon even give your girlfriend a kiss?” Jo’s tone was filled with pure hurt and pain. Sam’s cold eyes flickered over to her, his heart clenching at the hurt look on her face. But he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, knowing if he spoke, his voice would break and he would have to feel the emotions he was pushing down for so many months.

Instead, he took her hand into his, deciding to give her that kiss he longed for. That kiss she longed for, he knew if he kissed her and didn’t feel anything, it would confirm that this wasn’t his Jo and that this was just a set up by the Trickster.

As their lips met, nothing but numbness filled him. Not one emotion in him came alive. He should've missed her lips. He should've missed her taste. He should've missed her sweet scent. But all he felt was numbness.

His heart shattered into a million pieces as he slowly pulled away from her, no love or emotion in his eyes. “I missed you, Sammy” Jo sighed as she pulled away with a sweet smile, turning her back to Sam. The younger Winchester glanced over to Y/N, shaking his head. She nodded, pursing her lips before stiffly asking, “What’re we doing here, Bobby?” as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Bobby glanced over at them, “Well, it's the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic.” He responded, “So?” Sam replied dryly with a shrug. “So y’all want this thing? I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here.” Bobby explained as he and Jo walked back to the circle.

Y/N eyed them skeptically, “What do we need?” She asked, cocking a brow as she and Sam padded over slowly to the circle. “Blood.” Jo stated, “How much blood?” Sam asked, “Ritual says two gallons. And it’s gotta be fresh too” Bobby informed them with narrowed eyes.

The duo didn’t bat an eyelid, “Meaning we have to bleed at least two people dry.” Y/N pointed out, placing her hands on her hips as she stopped in her tracks. Jo swallowed as she nodded, “And it's gotta be tonight. Or not for another fifty years.” She said shakily, “Well then…let’s go get some”

With Y/N’s words, Sam went to follow behind her as they attempted to leave. They stopped when they realized neither Bobby or Jo moved from their spots. “You break my heart, kids.” Bobby’s voice dropped as he shook his head with disappointment, “What?” Sam scoffed, tilting his head.

“What the fuck’s gotten into you, Sammy? We’re not gonna let you murder innocent people!” Jo exclaimed. Sam and Y/N just stood there with a blank look on their faces. “Then why’d you call us here?!” Y/N snapped back, clenching her fists so hard she could feel her nails digging away at the insides of her palm.

“Why? Because it was the only way you'd see ya! Because I'm trying to knock some sense into y’all! Because you’re treating Jo like absolute shit when she doesn’t deserve any of that. Because I thought you'd back down from killing innocent people!” Bobby shouted back at the two as he got up in their faces as tears streamed down Jo’s face.

“Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, we’ll do it ourselves.” Sam replied stiffly once more, but Bobby shook his head. “She just told you, we’re not gonna let you two kill anyone” He insisted, “It's none of your fucking business what we do!” Y/N screamed, surprising Bobby and causing Jo to flinch.

“Y’all want Dean back so bad?” Jo snarled at them before leaning down to pick up a knife from a bag on the ground. “…fine.” She clenched her jaw as she held up the knife. Sam and Y/N nervously eyed the knife, “What are you talking about?” Sam asked, “Better us than civilians” Bobby chimed in as Jo walked before over to her boyfriend and extended the knife out to Sam.

Sam blinked, his heart nearly stopping as he looked down at the knife and then at Jo before shaking his head, “No. You're crazy. I'm not killing you.” He denied, stepping back from her, swallowing harshly. “Oh, now I’m the crazy one.” Jo scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

Bobby stepped closer to them as Sam and Jo’s eyes pierced into one another's. Even if this was the Trickster, Sam couldn’t bring himself to kill her, he didn’t want to take the chance. “Look, Sam, I'm old, I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting. Saving folk. But you need your brother. Let me get him back to you.” Bobby pleaded as Jo nodded.

“Let me do this for you. You need your brother in your life, I’ll be okay…I’ll always be with you…in here” Jo smiled sadly as she brought her hand up to point to his heart. Sam gulped, his eyes becoming glossy as he glanced over to Y/N who looked back just as broken as him. He slowly shook his head, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat as he glanced back over to Jo. “Angel—“

“You, Dean, Y/N and Jo….you’re the closest thing I have to a family…let us do this for you…” Bobby begged. Y/N stepped forward, swallowing harshly as she took the knife from Jo. “Okay.” Jo glanced at Y/N, her bottom lip quivering as she nodded, “Good” Jo sighed contently as she and Bobby turned around and got onto their knees.

“Just make it quick, son” Bobby whispered, closing his eyes as Jo sobbed. “So it, y/n/n.” She pleaded, “Yeah, okay, Bobby.” Sam gritted his teeth as he and Y/N pulled out the wooden stakes from their jackets. “But you wanna know why we’re doing it?” Y/N clenched her jaw as she wrapped her arm around Jo’s neck from behind, driving the stake into her back.

Sam did the same to Bobby, stabbing him in the back with the stake, twisting it. “Because you’re not Bobby.” Sam growled, “And you’re not my sister.” Y/N snarled. Jo choked on a scream as the tears continued to stream down her face and blood poured from the corners of her mouth before Y/N tossed her aside.

She gritted her teeth before glancing over to Sam, who did the same to a grunting Bobby. They stared at their corpses, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Now becoming panicked, “Bobby?! Jo?! Bobby?! Jo?!” Their voices became more frantic, now terrified that they made a mistake.

Suddenly, their corpses vanished. The stakes fell over, then shot over Sam’s shoulder into the hands of none other than the Trickster with a smile on his face. “You're right. I was just fucking with ya.” He smirked as he walked into the room, their breathing quickening and hearts racing. “Pretty good, though, guys. Smart.” The Trickster admitted, impressed.

“Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you guys with sharp objects in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket.” He chuckled, waving the stakes at them as their sad, desperate eyes followed him. “Bring him back.” Y/N’s tone was soft and filled with desperation, her eyes pleading.

The Trickster’s face fell with confusion as he tossed the stakes to the ground, “Who, Dean?” Sam and Y/N stared at the God as they were at a loss for words, “Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak.”

“Just take us back to that Tuesday—or, Wednesday—when it all started. Please. We won't come after you, we swear.” Sam begged, unshed tears in his eyes. He was damn near on his knees, “You swear?” The Trickster scoffed, “Yes, we swear.” Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. “I dunno…even if I could—“

“You can.” Sam interrupted, “True. But that don't mean I should.” They inhaled deeply at his words, their hearts shattering. “Guys, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into those freakish Cro-Magnon skulls of yours.” The Trickster said exasperatedly. “Lesson? What lesson?” Y/N’s voice cracked as she shook her head, her brows creased in confusion.

“This obsession to save Dean? The way you all keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. Both of your weak spots are Dean Winchester. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you two. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.” The Trickster snapped, stepping forward to get in their faces as he lectured.

As the God backed away, “He’s my brother.” Sam whispered hoarsely as he shook his head. “Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him.” The Trickster stated bluntly. That made Y/N break down fully, her nose dripping with snot, her face covered with tears as she wailed, “Please….please….he’s the love of my life” She begged as she shook her head.

His face turned up with surprise as he stared at the weeping girl and boy, blinking for a moment, speechless before he glanced over at Sam, who had a heartbroken look on his face, his own eyes glistening with tears that were now running down his cheeks.

The Trickster scoffed once more, shaking his head in disappointment. “I swear, it's like talking to brick walls.” He groaned exasperatedly, looking back up at Y/N. He had to admit, he actually felt kinda bad seeing her grovel like that. “Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You two are Travis Bickle in skirts, pals. I'm over it.”

“Meaning what?” Sam asked, hope rising in his chest as the Trickster turned to leave. “Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out.” The God responded simply, pointing to them before snapping his fingers.

____________________________________________

‘But you better promise me I'll be back in time’

Y/N’s eyes snapped open on her bed along with Sam’s on his, the two rose up slowly at the sound of Huey Lewis & The New ‘Back in Time’. Their brows furrowed, hearts heavy as Y/N clutched the thin motel room blanket to what she expected to be her naked form. But instead, she was fully clothed.

‘Gotta get back in time’

It felt like a dream, it felt so surreal when they spotted none other than Dean Winchester with his toothbrush in his hand, his eyes meeting with his brother’s. “What, y’all gon sleep all day?” Dean called out. “I know. No Asia. This station sucks” Dean scoffed as Sam’s eyes flickered over to the clock radio.

“It’s Wednesday” He pointed out in a sullen tone, his eyes glistening with tears. Still in disbelief as he and Y/N stared at Dean longingly.

‘On a roll of the dice’

Dean eyed the two weirdly. “Yeah, which usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, would you?” Dean went back to brushing his teeth before he spat in the sink. Wordlessly, Sam tossed his covers off as Y/N slowly and carefully pushed herself out of the bed. The younger Winchester marched over to his big brother and pulled him into a tight hug, refusing to let go.

Dean blinked, surprised and taken back but returned the hug with a bored expression. “Dude, how many Tuesdays did you two have?” Dean murmured as Sam finally pulled away, “Enough” Y/N responded gruffly before reaching up to yank Dean down by the back of his neck, smashing her lips onto his in a rough, passionate, needy kiss she had been long for the past six months.

Dean didn't expect to be attacked with a rough, sudden kiss. Especially infront of Sam, but nonetheless, accepted it, kissing back. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, pulling her closer into his body as his other hand moved down her waist to grip her hip.

He was just as desperate as she was, kissing her even though, to him, he just saw her yesterday. After what felt like blissful forever, they pulled away and Dean’s eyes flickered over to Sam. “What? No ‘eww get a room’ or ‘not the time guys!’ or my personal favorite ‘my eyes!!’” He raised a brow at his little brother, expecting some kind of disgusted remark.

Sam just stared at them with supportive eyes, knowing how much he and Y/N had went through, she needed this. He was desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. His brother was back, he was real, he was alive. So, with a deep shuddering breath, Sam simply replied, “Nah, have at it...” With a dismissive wave.

“Wait…what do you remember?” Y/N asked Dean as she looked up at him, her hands still on his chest, refusing to let him go. “I remember you guys were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then I remember catching up with the trickster. That’s about it” Dean told them as they listened intently, nodding

Sam and Y/N glanced over to each other, nodding before looking back at Dean. “Let’s go.” Sam sighed heavily, “No breakfast?” Dean’s face fell as Sam began packing up his stuff, “No breakfast. Let’s go back to my Georgia safehouse, I’ll bake you a pie and whatever you want” Y/N promised with a small smile, this made Dean’s face light up.

That bright, boyish, charming grin of his, the one that made his eyes crinkled and made him look just a bit younger than he was as his heart leapt in his chest.

“All right, I'll pack the car.” Dean prompted to leave but Y/N snagged his wrist. “Wait, you're not going anywhere alone.” Sam insisted as Y/N nodded in agreement. “It's the parking lot, guys.” Dean stated exasperatedly, “Just—just trust us, okay?” Y/N pleaded, swallowing harshly, giving him a tired set of puppy dog eyes.

-

Sam, now dressed, zipped closed a bag as Y/N slung hers over her shoulder and Dean opened the door. He turned back to the duo, a concerned look on his face. “Hey, you two don't look so good. Something else happen?” He asked them worriedly. They said nothing for a moment, sighing heavily before responding in unison.

“We just had some really weird dreams.” Dean nodded at their response, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Clowns or dolls?” Dean asked with a grin, they glanced over to him, forcing smiles before the elder Winchester walked out the door with glee.

Sam picked up his bag, him and Y/N then follow behind Dean but stopped at the door to look back at the unmade beds. God did they wish this place could just go to hell. Their faces sulken and coated with trauma. Sam flinched lightly when he felt Y/N place her hand in his bicep comfortingly.

“He’s back…he’s okay…” She tried to reassure not only him, but herself. Sam’s eyes flickered over to hers, his free hand reaching up to squeeze her smaller hand in his. “I know…” And all she could do was nod stiffly as she tried to keep the waterworks at bay, her eyes starting to gleam with tears as her bottom lip quivered slightly with the effort.

For the last time, Y/N reached up and flicked the light switch off before Sam shut the door behind them. Choosing to leave the memories of what they experienced there, right there in that room. A can of worms never go be opened again.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Sweet baby Jesus, that was ALOT😭😭😭when I tell you I had to take breaks in between writing this chapter because it was so HEARTWRENCHING AHHHHH

I still don’t know why I was so excited for this, goddammit💔Besides, I hope everyone liked it! Even with the morbid ass moments and cute ass moments.

Hope everyone is doing well! Till the next one🥰

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark @mostlymarvelgirl @latte113

Xoxo

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend

warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader

word count: 20,3k

notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(

It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.

”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.

”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

[frogtemple]

☆ when she returned pt. 3 ☆

summary: sam & dean haven't seen their younger sister in 6 months, they try to keep her safe from a distance, but she gets taken by demons.

word count: 1.8k

READ PART 1 READ PART 2

Dean pulled into the garage and put the car in park, shutting it off. You all sat there for a solid minute, taking a much needed deep breath knowing you were all under the safe roof of the bunker.

You didn't want to move, but made the first move out of you three and got up out of the car, holding Sam's jacket close to you. You felt so exposed and ached everywhere. You didn't want to think about the last 48 hours for the time being, instead you just wanted a shower and a fresh set of comfy clothes.

Your brothers emerged from the car, grabbing their things so they could follow after you. You could feel a sense of awkward tension in the air, you knew they probably didn't know how to approach you at the moment. After not seeing you in person for six months, and now you were here after getting dragged back into danger.

Dean followed you through the bunker to your room. He set down the duffel you had packed for yourself on your bed. "I uh, Sam grabbed this for you... from your car." He paused. "Don't worry, we'll go and get your car back." You nodded, not saying a word.

"Sweetheart, you gonna be okay?" Dean asked as he saw you headed for the bathroom. "Yeah, I'll be good." You said suddenly, maybe a little too much cheer. You could see your brothers gazes back and forth in the car, unwanted guilt flooded over and you didn't want them to worry too much at the moment.

"Okay.... well, I'll be here. And uh... we should take a look at those wounds after you get cleaned up." Dean spoke cautiously, not wanting to upset you in any way.

You shut the bathroom door, not having the energy to respond. You turned on a hot shower, it stung your open wounds like a bitch but felt so refreshing at the same time. A weirdly perfect mix of pain and solace. You found yourself standing in the water stream for a bit too long. Finally snapping out of it, you finished and wrapped a towel around yourself, shuffling back to your room to find a folded set of comfy clothes laid out for you. Your bed was made with fresh sheets and blankets, it looked so inviting right now being so tired. You changed into your sleep shorts and oversized tee, then peeling the blanket back on your bed. You nestled in, finally feeling a bit of peace and safety again in your somewhat 'childhood bedroom'. It didn't take long before you dozed off to sleep.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────

Dean came back to check on you, seeing your door was cracked open, he knocked lightly before slowly pushing the door. He stopped and sighed heavily, seeing you already curled up in bed passed out. He took a seat at your desk chair, propping his feet up on the desk. Sam trailed behind not too long after Dean, sighing with some relief when he saw you asleep.

"I should really take care of your arm." Sam noted the gash down Dean's bicep.

"Nah. Later." He shrugged it off.

Silence filled the room, both sets of eyes watching you. "What are we gonna do about the one that got away?" Dean asked.

"Shhh! I don't think we shou-"

"Relax, she's passed out for sure. And, as much as I don't want her to know, she should. Or else she's definitely gonna find out on her own."

Sam nodded in agreement. "I dunno. It could be anywhere by now, probably waiting for us to come looking for it so it can strike again." He grew angry just thinking about it.

Sam and Dean went on discussing the demon situation and how they were going to track it down. They also discussed you. Not knowing how you'd feel about it when you found out. Sam went off to take a shower and make some dinner, Dean stayed in your room. He wanted to keep a close eye on you after everything. He couldn't risk losing you again. You were asleep for maybe an hour and a half before you started having a nightmare. You abruptly sprung up out of your sleep, gasping loudly.

You breathed as you saw you were in your room, looking over and seeing Dean sitting at your desk. He lowered his feet that were resting and stood up, taking a seat in front of you at the edge of your bed. "I'm fine." You breathed out, knowing he'd probably ask if you were okay, trying to beat him to it.

"No you're not.... But, that's okay."

You shot him the smallest smile. "Like I said earlier... I need to check you out, make sure you don't need a hospital...." He trailed off, not wanting to pry, but growing concerned as he saw the cut on your arm beginning to bleed again. You followed his gaze to it, lowered your head and nodded.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Dean left and returned moments later with the whole first aid brigade. You stared down at your hands, slowly recalling everything that happened as he was going through the supplies. Dean looked up at you with his eyes.

"How're you holdin' up?" He tried. You shrugged. You felt like you wanted to cry about it, but it was like it was stuck, like you were in shock. "Can I see...?" Dean gestured to your hand. You returned from your zone and held it towards him. He gently held your wrist, examining the giant burn gash that started at the base of your middle finger and crossed all the way to the edge of your palm. You didn't mean to but you subconsciously tensed up. Dean's already loose grip, loosened more.

You winced as Dean did what he could for hand, cleaning up the rest. Other than that, you didn't have any other life threatening injuries, just heavily bruised from being kicked, punched, and knocked around. You were sore almost everywhere.

"I know, I know, I got it. Should heal just fine after we get you some antibiotics and some burn stuff." Dean tried to lighten the mood. You then noticed the open wound on your brother's arm.

"You're hurt..." You pointed out, grabbing some gauze.

"Oh, yeah, it's alright baby don't worry about me, I'm okay." Dean dismissed.

"No, you're not. But that's okay." You said his line back to him. Dean scoffed with a smile. You rolled up his sleeve and cleaned off all the dried up blood from his skin. "Y'know, just because I'm in pain doesn't mean you should ignore your own." You said. Something about this moment of care for Dean made him realize how much he missed you, and how it wasn't the same without you here. He missed the subtle warmth of care and steadiness you held towards them both, and just how much your uplifting presence filled a gap in their everyday. That had been missing for the last 6 months, not too long, but long enough to notice now that it was back.

"You know this needs stitches, right?" You asked. "Yeah, most likely, I know." Dean gave in.

Sam flashed his head in the doorway, fully appearing through the door once he saw you two up.

"See, I told you you needed that arm looked at." Sam lightly sassed, as he saw you stitching it up with gentle care, trying your best with your injured hand. You smiled up at him in agreement.

As you started to stitch Dean's arm up, he decided to tell you about the demon, he hoped better sooner than later. "We want you to stay here, maybe a little bit longer than we initially said." He started.

"Why? I mean, I kinda get it, but you guys killed them all. Should be okay now, right?" You looked up at your brothers. Their faces said it all. They both flashed sad and guilty.

"Right?" you waited.

"One of them got away." Dean put it simply.

Sam saw your expression change. You looked alarmed, tense, angry.

"We're sorry, bug. I.... I wish it wasn't the case." Sam apologized.

You knew it wasn't their faults, you didn't want them to beat themselves up over it, but damn that terrified you if you weren't already. The demon that does all this to you- your family, gets away? Dean saw the tears forming in your eyes.

"Y/n...."

You shook your head, trying to will the tears away. You didn't want to make a big deal about it right now. It was exhausting just thinking about what happened and you wanted to enjoy the peace and downtime you had right now. You didn't care if they knew the torture you went through, you just did not want to hear yourself feel it again.

"I want you to get some rest. We'll talk more about this tomorrow." Dean gathered the first aid supplies, You nodded.

"We're here for you y/n/n... and we're not gonna stop til we find that thing." Sam came over, reassuring you with a soft smile.

You watched as both brothers retreated to their rooms. Deep down, you wanted one of them to stay, feeling like an open target in an empty room. You didn't feel okay yet.

Pulling back the covers, you tried to lull into a peaceful state of sleep. Tossing and turning, heart beat at a slow race. You kept turning over and looking at the clock, watching hour after hour pass. You fell asleep eventually around 2 am. All was well until a nightmare started to invade your mind. Splices of memories flashed before your eyes in an abrupt manner. You kept seeing his devilish smile, that deadly look in his eyes with every glance, trying to stare into your soul. An uncomfortable pit filled your stomach, you then shot up out of your sleep. You slightly relaxed after scanning the room for danger, looking over at the clock to see that not much time had passed. You huffed out a breath, feeling frustrated that you couldn't even escape your pain in your sleep.

That's when a voice made you almost jump out of your skin. "Hello dear y/n."

Eyes then locked to the figure standing behind your bedroom door. "Seems I still have some business to attend to with you all." He leaned out of the shadows, revealing the demon that got away.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 4

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

random hoeing:

Curtis slowly standing up, stretching into his full, enormous height

Read Your Book

A Curtis and Honey Drabble

You were currently in one of your favorite spots. Well, maybe more like the second favorite. Your actual favorite place was under Curtis with your legs wrapped around him, but that just wasn't an option right now. So you lounged on the couch, your head pillowed on the arm while your nose was stuck in your newest smutty book that arrived in the mailbox today.

And you were so excited about this one, the ending of a duet, you had ordered this one midway through the first one, knowing you were gonna need to read the rest as soon as you could get your hands on it.

You hadn't moved from the couch since getting home after work, your eyes scanning the pages, filing away little clues and curiously wondering if you stumbled on a new kink that the story was heavily playing into.

It toyed with some dark little corner of your mind, wondering if there was something you should be worried about or should you embrace it?

Midthought, while still scanning the scene you were questioning, a hand appeared in front of you, gripping the top of your book and easing it down till you could see over the top into Curtis's face, a amused grin lifting on one side of his mouth and a teasing glint in his eyes. "Really into your book Honey?" You lowered the book to your lap, seeing him squatting down next to the couch, still in his work clothes, so you knew he just got home.

"Hey! I didn't even hear you come in." You said a bit sheepishly.

"I know, I called your name twice till I saw you curled up on the couch. What's got all your attention?" You turned the book so he could study the cover, his eyes gazing over the dark cover. "Hmm, looks like one of those fun dark romances you like."

"Yeah, I haven't put it down since I got home." You glanced over your shoulder to where the old clock sat among the books on the built in shelves. "And I should probably get dinner started." You flipped the book onto the back of the couch, letting it keep your page safe. Pushing to start getting up.

Curtis shook his head and he pushed up to lean over you, easily pushing you back to laying your head on the arm of the couch and staring up at him in surprise. "Nu-uh Pretty Girl." His arm braced against the back of the couch, his free hand ghosting down your side till his hand landed on the curve of your hip, giving a hard affectionate squeeze.

It sent a thrill through you, almost feeling like it was a possessive touch, the only man who was allowed to. You have had your head stuck into too many of these books you told yourself at your thoughts.

"Let me go get cleaned up and changed, then I will make dinner. You just keep reading your book Sweet Girl. Then you can fill me in on all the spicy details when we're in bed." He smirked at your widened gaze, wiggling his brows at you, which made you laugh at his playful attitude.

"And ruin the book for you?" You joked back as you sat back, tilting your face up enough to nip at his lips when he hovered in closer, sharing a kiss. He finished pushing up, and up, up, up. Your eyes roved up his tall body, feeling your mouth start to water at how damn good he looked. His arms stretched over his head, arching a bit to loosen the knots in his back that his previous squatting had caused.

Fuck he was tall, big, strong, his full height towering over you now given how you were laying on the couch and you had to tip your head back to look up at him. He always had that uncanny ability to make you feel small, a hard thing to accomplish since your past relationships you always felt to big, to much for your partner.

But not with Curtis and right now he felt so large, so powerful. You blew out a breath where you had been holding it. "You know I wanna know..." His hand came down to brush his fingers along your face till his hand snapped to your neck, circling his hand around your throat.

Your heart picked up speed, arousal making your thighs clenched, resisting the urge to rub them together, anything to relieve that sudden ache building between your thighs. "... all those filthy thoughts going through your mind, so we can discuss if we wanna try them out."

You gave a nod, a slight one as his large hand was still at your throat. "Good Girl." He rumbled out deeply, placing one last kiss on your forehead before leaving to go upstairs, calling down from the top of the stairs. "I saw the cover had a mask, you should really give that some thought. Maybe a ghost face... or I could borrow a motorcycle helmet if you're more into that Honey."

You were alone once more, fully letting out your breath in a whispy moan of want. "Fuck that man doing that to me." You muttered and at the end of the couch came a rather loud judging meow. Lifting your head, you spotted Binx giving you the most bored look, his gaze slowly blinking at you, as if he couldn't believe how you were acting. "Don't you even start with me Binx!" You grabbed at your book and shoved your face back in it, going back to reading and properly ignoring the cat.

[tinytinalifes]

Katsuki would definitely lower his voice at someone he finds attractive/cares about 🌚.

this story gonna be hella long so buckle up!

Don't play the song now.

Monday morning!

"Y/n get your butt down here or your walking to U.A!" You mom yelled from down stairs your eyes widened as you looked at the clock, shit I'm gonna be late! You thought and quickly got out of bed. You made your bed and looked on your dresser, the school uniform. You quickly put it on before running downstairs to see your younger sister siting down at the table with a smirk on her face.

"what?...." You said dryly wondering was she was smirking about. "Oh nothing.... Just finished eating the pancakes..... You should probably, make some toast or some-" her words were cut off by you pining her to the ground with a emotionless expression. "Bro you know it's my first day I'm gonna be hungry!" You said very annoyed and standing back up rolling your eyes taking a piece of bread an toasting it. What's her problem fucking problem dude? you thought taking your toast before walking out of the house waving bye to your sister, she waved back smiling.

Even though your sister would pull things like this you still loved her to death. You quickly ran out the door locking the door and jumping into the car as your mom drove off rambling about how your sister didn't clean the bathroom this week, you zoned out looking out the window. You had gotten accepted by U.A, by recommendation you don't really even know who recommended you but you knew it was one of your dad's friends.

Your mom dropped you off at the gate you got out and put one air pod in just in case you needed to hear something around you, suddenly you saw a girl with short hair about to bump in this guy with blond hair. You quickly used your quirk draining some of the girls energy making her slow down just in time for you to swoop in, quickly take the Starbucks drink out her hand and moving her to the side in one swift movement. You quickly put all her energy back into her.

Play the song!

"o-oh my..... Thank you i-i-i I'm Ochaco Uraraka!" The girl say with an embarrassed smile puting her hand out to shake, which you shook. "No biggie!" You said kindly you glanced at the boy with blond hair and red eyes, he was so handsome you thought you would faint. He just looked at you up and down before mumbling something and walking inside the school. "Uh that's Katsuki bakugo..... I'm guessing your new?" She said softly and bubbly.

You already liked her personality and nodded softly, "uh yeah I'm Y/n L/n.... I'm supposed to go to class 1A..... Could you please show me to that class?" You said softly. Her eyes widened with a smile on her face, "wait oh my gosh that's my class... Of course I can show you around!" She said bursting with excitement and grabbing your hand running into the school with you, you tried your best dodging the people you can, as she ran. You couldn't help but laugh softly at how excited she was, suddenly she stopped at a locker. "This one's yours I'm pretty sure!".

You nodded and put your lock on it then puting the passcode in it opening your locker and putting your things in taking out the essentials before turning to the classroom door where Ochaco was standing she grabbed your hand dragging you into the classroom. Suddenly all eyes were on you, a couple minutes later you were introduced to everyone expect for the blond guy Katsuki, you thought he didn't like you, so you decided to talk to him as you sat in your seat.

"uh hi I'm Y/n L/n.... Nice to meet you" you said softly with a big smile showing your dimples. He looked up at you looking at your dimples, he had an unreadable emotion on his face suddenly a small smirk appeared on his lips. "Katsuki bakugo soon to be number one hero!" He said proudly which you nodded in response. "Uh if you don't mind me asking.... What's your quirk?" You asked softly, he chuckled gosh his laugh was beautiful. "Explosion, I can create explosions from my hands to put it in an easy way for an extra like you" he said confidently.

You couldn't lie that quirk was pretty cool, "uh my quirks being able to drain any amount of energy out of people" you said softly. Suddenly he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, you spent the rest of the morning till Mr. Aizawa came answering all his questions about your quirk. He seemed genuinely curious about your quirk, he listened and hummed softly ever few seconds. As you talked he looked deep into your eyes then would look away flustered.

The class watched silently half listening to you explain your quirk, the other half in complete shock Katsuki wasn't getting bored listening to what your saying, or the fact he didn't even call you a nickname.

THE END!

[iinsertblognamee]

motherhood?

summary ― sam and you have a fight, this wasn't how this was meant to go.

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― angst, mentions of IVF

based off this request

You were worried. Sam was missing. You knew she liked to go for morning runs - that was completely fine - but Sam hadn’t come to bed last night and when you came downstairs this morning her keys were missing from the bowl. 

You convinced yourself that she would be back soon enough, as you prepared tea for both of you - ensuring to grab her favourite mug. The silence throughout the house keeps you on edge, it was never quiet in your house. Sam wasn’t a quiet person - she was loud, always moving, always making noise. You grab the tv remote and chuck it on, just to break the tension in the air. 

You sighed, as you rubbed your face with your palms. 

You knew you were both at fault. You shouldn’t have pushed the conversation last night but you were so tired of trying to be patient. And yes, you had been patient. You had waited years for this moment, the appointment had been booked in both your calendars for months. You’re excitement growing day by day as you got closer and closer. You walked into that appointment yesterday and waited and waited until both you and the poor lady sitting there realised Sam wasn’t showing. You hated the way she looked at you with pity - asking if you would possibly want to reschedule for a better time for you and your partner. 

Your partner who couldn’t even bother to send a sorry message that she couldn't come. 

It hurt even more when she looked over both your and Sam’s information (that you had to fill out by yourself) and asked if you were absolutely sure this was a path you wanted to go down. Like she was questioning how stable your relationship was. Although at that moment you questioned yourself too, was this the right thing to be doing? 

So yeah, you blew up at Sam when she walked through the front door later that night, a smile on her face as she waved goodbye to whoever had dropped her off. 

Pouring hot water into both cups, adding a splash of milk to yours before making your way over to the table. It was a sunny enough day, practically perfect and yet you felt like absolute crap. 

You miss the first call on your phone, but hear it the second time it rings. Not bothering to check who could be calling you as you answered. 

“Hello?” you know you sound like crap, the screaming from last night left your throat tender and sore. 

“Y/N hey” Millie. You pick up her voice instantly, she knows what happened yesterday - last night too probably. “I thought I’d let you know that Sam just left my place. She stayed the night after…” 

You both don’t try to finish her sentence, nodding your head before remembering she can’t see you. 

“Uh, thanks, Mills. I hope she wasn’t too much of a hassle last night” You hear something moving in the background before she replies “No, no. She was - She was okay.” she pauses for a second, “It’s gonna be okay Y/N” 

You both say your goodbyes and turn your attention back to the window, as you continued to sip your tea. The conversation from last night ran over and over in your head like a broken record. 

She had practically stumbled in, a grin on her face as she chucked her house keys into the bowl next to the front door. You were already standing there waiting, your arms crossed in a defensive stance. 

“Where were you?” 

You both knew the answer, but you needed to hear it from her lips. You needed to hear her confess that she fucked up on this, not you. 

“Out” she starts, you see her start to get defensive, the way she slowed herself down so she didn’t have to touch you as she walked past you. 

“Funny enough I gathered that already - where’d you go?” 

She gives out a scoff, opening the fridge and looking for something to eat. 

“I just went out with some of the girls, there’s no harm in that is there?” the tone in her voice is enough to send you off. You knew the moment you started yelling she would too but you honestly couldn’t care less at that moment.  

“God Sam! You decided that going out to get DRUNK was more important than coming with your wife to OUR IVF appointment. You are so unbelievable!” 

“I didn’t get drunk for godsakes, we have like two drinks - if that” You shake your head, disbelief towards the woman in front of you. 

“That’s what you defend? How much alcohol you drank, instead of coming up with some lame-ass excuse as to why you didn’t come to the appointment?” 

You wait for it, for the obvious fake excuse she was going to pull out of her ass ‘I forget’ was better than nothing at this point. You didn’t point out that you had sent her multiple text messages during the day asking her if you two wanted to carpool it to the appointment. 

Instead, she just stands there, a bottle of water in her hand.

“If you didn’t want to be there if you’re not ready, you should have told me!” you knew you were yelling, you could feel the strain in your voice, your hands going up in the air. She shakes her head, her arms now crossed across her body. 

“It's not that, Y/N.” you see her frown deepen but you pay no attention to it. 

“Well that’s what it fucking looks like to me” you fight back, your hands running through your hair as you try to calm yourself. This was getting ridiculous. 

“Look, just because YOU might be ready doesn’t automatically mean I am.” 

“You told me you were ready when we booked that appointment months ago, or don’t you remember that either?” 

“God leave it alone. I hate when you do this” 

“Do what?” 

“Act all high and mighty. It was one appointment Y/N!” 

You step back as if you had been slapped. She knew how important this meeting was for you, for both of you. 

“I-” your voice cracks before you can add anything else. You shake your head, trying to grab control of the situation once again. “It was an important appointment, Sam, you knew that. You knew how important this was for us, for me.” you practically whisper out. 

She doesn't go to agree with you and that was the final nail in the coffin for you, 

“I thought we both wanted this, I guess I was the only one” 

“God! I hate yo-” rang through the air, everything standing still in an instant. “-This!” she tries to change but the sentence has already been spoken. 

“Go to hell, Sam.” You don’t know how you managed to say it with your voice cracking, but you don’t for a response as you run up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. The door slams behind you as the tears start to fall. 

It takes about half an hour for you to hear the front door open, although you don’t attempt to look over to see her walk in. The sound of the kegs hitting the bowl, her steps coming closer and closer. You hear the sharp breath she takes in, as she finds you at the table. Your mug in your hand - filled with cold tea. 

You notice the big bouquet of flowers in her hands, your favourite flowers from your favourite place that was ten minutes in the opposite direction of your house. Looking up from the flowers, taking a glimpse at Sam’s face. You notice the bags under her eyes straight away - her hair is a mess as well as her clothes. 

“Hi,” she spoke softly, not moving from her spot. Almost to say ‘your move’. You tilt your head, trying to grasp how this conversation was going to go.

“Hey,” It seemed to be enough for Sam as she took a step closer to you, bringing the flowers out for you to grab. 

“I picked these up on the way home” You give a small hm,  as you take them off her. Your hands touching for the first time in almost 24 hours. “Thank you” you add, taking in a sniff. 

The silence engulfs the two of you once again. 

“I fucked up” She doesn’t try to move closer to you this time. She claps her hands together, you take note of her white knuckles. “Yesterday, I fucked up and then I came home and fucked it up all over again” 

You gave a small sigh, turning your attention to the wall behind her shoulder, the artwork now very interesting. “If you don’t want to do it, Sammy, you should have just said. I wouldn’t have pushed.” As much as it broke your heart to say it - you meant it wholeheartedly. Sam was it for you, you knew that. 

“I want everything with you Y/N” your gaze snapping right back to your wife’s face. 

“Sam…” you start, trying to gather all your thoughts moving at a hundred beats per second. 

“Please, let me. Just let me explain” She sounded so sad, so lost. You nodded your head, knowing that she needed this right now. 

“I want everything with you, Y/N, everything, and I mean that. I’m just scared because I know how much I can fuck this up” You try to cut her off, but she raises her hand to stop you before you can start. “I know how important this is to you - to us and I'm terrified because what if I'm a shit mother. What if I can’t do it? I know I’m too careless, and sometimes forgetful but it's okay cause we’re both adults and we can look after ourselves but a child - a baby relies on me, on us. But then I think about you, as a mother and my heart beats just that little bit faster because I know how great of a mother you will be. You are so kind and caring and you put up with my shit even when lord knows you shouldn’t. You love me unconditionally and make me the best possible version of myself and how am I to deny our children from having that? And I know that when I fuck up, and we both know that I will, you’ll be there ready to take over. So yes, I freaked out yesterday - all my fears bubbling up but I’ve realised now matter how much I don’t trust myself, I trust you even more. Because I know you are going to make the best mother our kids could ever ask for”. 

Tears had started to stream down both your faces, Sam’s chest rising and falling after her speech. It takes you no more than two seconds to launch from the chair and into her embrace. 

“I don’t want it if you don’t-” you start to mumble into her shoulder, she cuts you off by cupping under your chin and moving your face so you were both looking at each other. “-Y/N. I’m trying to tell you that I want this. I want children with you and all the chaos that comes with it.” 

You nod your head, before bringing your lips onto hers. A sigh leaves both your lips. 

“We can wait,” you say weakly, giving her another kiss. She shakes her head, looking up from your lips to your eyes. “How long have we waited, Y/N?” 

Too fucking long. 

She grins once again, before bringing your lips back onto hers. 

“I can’t wait for this next chapter of our lives baby” she mumbles on your lips and you couldn’t agree more. 

[love4rami]

“does he make you laugh?”

ex!Charles Leclerc x ex!reader

in which formula one star, Charles Leclerc and his ex, Y/n Y/l/n, visit each other to try and resolve their break-up after months of no contact but little does Charles know, she has already moved on.

based of off that one tiktok sound… “does he make you laugh?” “he doesn’t make me cry.”

warning: angst, toxic!Charlie (kinda), shouting, implied cheating, toxic relationships, moving on (it hurts so much), swearing, flashbacks are in bold italics

“but how we moved from A to B? it can’t be up to me”

i was strolling along the sunny streets of Monaco with my boyfriend, Matt. we had gone there on vacation, although i told him it wouldn’t be a good idea, he still took me. we had fun anyways. he rented out a small house in Monte Carlo. it had a beautiful back-garden with a pool. a wonderful little kitchen, a cosy living room and one bedroom with a double bed. however the house was extremely close to a certain someone i tried to forget.

“but Charles you don’t fucking get it!” i shouted from across the kitchen. “what do you mean i don’t fucking get it?! you went out, without my permission, and got shit-faced drunk without even telling me!” my boyfriend, Charles, shouted back at me. tears were streaming down my face at this point, due to the amount of him screaming at me. and if i was going to be fully honest i wasn’t even “shit-faced” drunk, i had about 3 or 4 drinks with my friends and i was on my merry way back home to him. it was a rainy night, fair enough, but i still called him to pick me up. he probably wasn’t doing anything anyway. probably just sitting there on his arse watching TV. i was scared and upset. yeah, he shouted at me sometimes, but never like this. never. never this loud. never this aggressive. but this time it was exactly those things.

me and Matt had just walked out of a shop and went back to the small air bnb. as soon as he got in he flopped on the bed and, right as his head hit the pillow, he was out. i was hungry so i went into the little kitchen and opened the fridge, to which i found myself staring at a half-full milk carton and a banana. i ran upstairs, into the bedroom and shook Matt carefully. “i’m gonna get some food babe, i’ll be back soon” i whispered into his ear. he just hummed. i kissed his cheek and was off.

hour time skip…

as i turned the corner of one of the food aisles in the small shop i bumped into a rather hard chest. “jesus, sorry” the Monegasque accented voice said. oh shit, i could recognise that voice anywhere. i looked up already on the brink of crying. “oh, Y/n” the person, Charles, smiled. “hi” he said, almost breathlessly. “hi” i responded. and about 15 minutes later, we found ourselves sat across from each-other in a small café. “so,” he started. “how’s it going with you and… uh… Matt? is it?” he finished. “good” i replied dryly. he just let out a breathy chuckle. i looked up at him without moving my head, as i was staring down at the coffee in-front of me. “why are you in Monaco?” he asked. “he wanted to go on a little holiday for summer break, why are you in Monaco?” i copied. “summer break” a laugh escaped his lips.

“i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you… but it’s something.” “oh please Charles, don’t act like you don’t go out every night and rail some random blondie you met in a club” Charles scoffed. “you don’t know what the fuck your talking about.” “come on Charles. i know exactly what i’m talking about… i mean, jesus, isn’t it obvious, you’re so desperate” i had it with Charles. i got drunk and kissed a guy. just to feel something again. he hadn’t touched me in weeks, months even. and if anything, i was the desperate one. i wanted to be touched so bad. i was practically touch starved. and it hurt.

i don’t know why Charles was being so nice now. he never was back then. and i don’t know why the first thing he asked when we sat down was about Matt. he better not had been fucking jealous or i would have to rip his head off of his fucking shou- “you seem so sad Y/n” yeah. no shit sherlock. “does he treat you right?” better than you ever did. “does he make you laugh?” he said. i actually had the courage to answer this question. “he doesn’t make me cry.” i responded. his eyebrows dropped and his eyes welled up with tears. why was he fucking crying? his bottom lip wobbled and he frowned. then tears fell. he had no right to be crying. he made me feel like shit every single second i was with him. but i stayed. because i loved him.

-

oh how love hurts. sorry for not posting that Lando shit yet guys i’m still thinkin’. but anyways hope you guys enjoyed this lil fic. cya mi cariños!!!

[toasttt11]

morning

July 9, 2023

Ophelia was brushing out her hair in the mirror in her guest room at the Hughes’s lake house when she heard a soft knock on her door, “Come in.”

Quinn opened the door slowly and blinked surprised to see Ophelia completely awake and ready for the day, she was a morning person he realized like him, “Morning.”

“Morning.” Ophelia mumbled back setting her brush back down on the dresser.

“We’re gonna go the rink in a little bit if you’re up for it?” Quinn asked her and his eyes saw a little penguin stuff animal on her bed and he smiled softly, it’s adorable.

“Okay.” Ophelia quickly nodded never going to turn down going skating.

“Mom is making breakfast and we will probably head out once Luke and Jack finish waking up and eat too.” Quinn told her.

Ophelia nodded and she grabbed her phone and slipped her slides on and started following Quinn out of her room.

“So i’m assuming you’re a morning person?” Quinn asked her as they walked down the hallway together.

“Yeah i rarely can sleep in.” Ophelia told Quinn making him a smile and nod.

“Me too. There’s some really good running trails here if you want to join me in the mornings?” Quinn offered as they walked down the stairs, he always runs alone so it would be nice to run with Ophelia.

“I’d like that.” Ophelia nodded softly giving him a small smile. She’s use to running alone and it would be nice to run with someone else.

“Morning Ophelia!” Ellen looked up from the stove and beamed at Ophelia, she was so happy to have another girl around the house.

Ophelia mumbled a soft morning back and followed Quinn to the barstools and sat down next to him seeing Jack laying his head on counter looking half asleep.

“You’re okay with a omelette?” Ellen asked Ophelia as she plated Quinn’s omelette.

“Yeah, thank you.” Ophelia softly thanked Ellen, it’s been awhile someone has cooked for her outside of the hockey chefs.

Ellen smiled at Ophelia and she stared pointing and asking about the vegetables and which one Ophelia was fine with in her omelette.

“Want coffee?” Quinn leaned over asking Ophelia. Ophelia softly nodded back, “How do you like yours?” Quinn asked he stood up and grabbed a light blue mug that no one ever touches and started brewing a pot of coffee.

“Uh i’m fine with whatever.” Ophelia shrugged, she wasn’t picky about how her coffee is and liked it most ways.

Quinn hummed in response and grabbed milk and a chocolate creamer and held them up to Ophelia, “Which one do want?

Ophelia pointed at the chocolate one making Quinn smiled satisfied and he poured three cups of coffee and poured the chocolate creamer in all three and carried the mugs back to the counter and at the light blue in front of Ophelia, the red Devils one in front to Jack making Jack glance up and immediately took a sip of his coffee and a dark blue one for Quinn.

Ophelia thanked Quinn and Ellen as Ellen set a plate in front of Ophelia.

Jack mumbled a soft morning to Ophelia after waking up a bit from his coffee and he waited for his mom to make his breakfast.

Ophelia was half way through eating her breakfast when Luke finally stumbled into the kitchen his curls going everywhere as he plopped down next to Jack and immediately started inhaling his breakfast.

“Oh Ophelia i’m going shopping today so is there anything you like in particular or have any allergies?” Ellen asked her as she pulled out her shopping list.

“I’m allergic to shellfish and kiwis.” Ophelia told Ellen and all four of them sitting there made that mental note to remember that, Ellen would also make sure to tell Jim. Good thing none of the Hughes care for those two things so they won’t get them again anyways.

“Besides that i’m not picky.” Ophelia shrugged softly, she’s not the biggest eater.

“Okay, what about something you like to snack on?” Ellen asked wanting to make sure Ophelia was completely comfortable here.

“Uh hummus and vegetables.” Ophelia answered.

“Dude that’s my favorite too.” Jack perked up giving her a silly smile making her lips quirk up.

Jim walked in from the backyard and said good morning to the four kids as he walked into the kitchen.

Ophelia helped Quinn clean up form breakfasts as Jack and Luke both got dressed to head to the rink.

Ophelia followed Quinn to the car outside and he grabbed her hockey bag from the garage where they put it last night and he put it in the back of the car, “Sit wherever you want.” Quinn told Ophelia as he unlocked the car.

Ophelia nodded and she climbed into the car and headed back to the third row and sat down.

Jack got in next sitting in the seat in front of Ophelia and Quinn in the drivers seat and Jim in the passenger.

“See Ophelia thinks the third row is better too!” Luke teased Jack as he climbed into the car and went back to the third row sitting down next to Ophelia, Luke liked the third row because the second row only had two chairs and from the third row he had a lot of room to spread out his legs.

“Not everyone has very long legs Lukey boy.” Jack teased back making Quinn shake his head didn’t as he pulled out of the driveway.

Ophelia watched amused as Luke and Jack sassed each other for most of the drive, she’s never felt comfortable to do that with anyone before.

Quinn parked the car and they all got out do the car.

Jack grinned at Ophelia as he grabbed her bag before she could take it and he just started walking into the rink with her bag.

Ophelia softly shook her head and stayed at Quinn’s heels as they walked into the rink, she’s been here at the US rink couple of times.

Jack set her bag right at the stall in between his and Quinn’s and Luke’s is next to Quinn’s.

Ophelia started unpacking her bag into the stall and looked up seeing Luke putting her name in the stall just as the three Hughes have their names in their stall.

Ophelia follows the three boys on to the ice and saw a few other players skating already and she followed Quinn over to Jim.

Quinn had told her that Jim works with them the most during the summer and told her that the rink was gonna be emptier than usually for the next week as most players are on trips right now.

Ophelia nodded listening to what Jim was telling them to do for the drill. She was going again Luke and Jack against Quinn.

Ophelia narrowed her eyes and took off with Luke trying to defended her and she was quick with changing directions and managed to spin around Luke and tap the puck into the net.

Quinn and Jack shared an impressed look with Jim. Obviously they have seen her clips and she had to be pretty great to go first overall but seeing her skill in person is a bit different.

They went through this drill a couple times before Jim switched them up and had Jack going against Luke and Ophelia against Quinn.

Ophelia laughed a bit seeing how competitive Luke and Jack are with one another.

Ophelia got ready for her turn and knew Quinn was gonna be even harder.

Quinn watched intently as Ophelia started skating and he quickly shifted covering her. Ophelia couldn’t get away from Quinn but she could move her stick so she just flicked the puck randomly backwards and hit the post.

“That was smart.” Quinn praised looking at her proudly once they stopped the drill, she couldn’t get away from him defending him so she took the shot even at a bad angle.

Ophelia wiped her face and she smiled up at Quinn.

Quinn started telling her something else she could try and she giving him her full attention as she listened to his instructions.

Jim raised a eyebrow noticing how Quinn was talking to her and seemed to be explaining something to her and noticed the way Quinn had her full attention and had a feeling Quinn will be teaching her a lot on and off the ice.

Quinn smiled proudly as they went through the drill once more and she did exactly what he suggested and she did it perfect, he gave her a high five and patted her head softly, “Good job.” He gave her a proud smile making her perk up a bit and smile back.

Eventually they finished their practice and Ophelia followed the boys off the ice and back to the locker room.

“You were great.” Jack nudged her elbow softly as they sat down in their stalls.

“Awesome.” Luke added agreeing with Jack.

Ophelia shyly smiled back and saw Quinn nodding in agreement.

She had a lot of fun practicing with the boys and Jim coaching, Hockey hasn’t felt fun like that since her Dad would coach her or skate with her, she’s missed hockey being fun.

[in-a-bucket]

Project Eden's Garden CH 1 thoughts

hey so this probably isn't gonna be coherent at all cause i just finished the chapter and it took my like 12 hours to finish it so i have not slept but i just need to get my thoughts out lol

uh anyway major spoilers for the whole chapter you have been warned

so for the chapter as a whole i had a great time playing it! you can really see all the love and care put into this project. that being said, this chapter was CARRIED by it's deadly life/trial section, at least in my opinion. the daily life wasn't like terrible by any means it just didn't feel like a whole lot happened? the days felt really short, like the day you explore the new area is literally, wake up, meet in the dining hall briefly, explore the new area, and then go to bed. i was like ????? how is the day already done what. and then when the motive was introduced it was a bit lackluster, the concept was really cool with the pictures and the vague messages for the blackmail, but then we barely find out what anyone's information and the few people we do find out isn't super bad (expect for wolfgang kind of, maybe?), hell damon is not once concerned about the motive and none of the other characters seem all that concerned about it either which i think kinda brings the tension and stakes down. it's pretty evident when you find out the killer's motive as nothing to do with the blackmail and they weren't even concerned over their own blackmail so they have to create an entirely separate motive with the whole traitor perk thing, and it's not like that came out of thin air cause you're told about the secret prize from the get go i just don't get why they didn't use the motive they already made instead of revealing it all at the end of the trial from tozu.

ok whoops getting kind of off topic there but yeah daily life, it just felt like there could have been more, maybe it just has to do with the kind of guy damon is, but it kind of felt like we were dragging our feet from time to time idk maybe im just insane.

as for deadly life, holy shit they made some ballsy decisions here. can't really say whether they were good ones yet or not since we still have 5(?) more chapters but i have to respect the devs for who the first victim and killer ended up being (i'll get to them later). i remember thinking (man this is a pretty long investigation lol), although it probably didn't help that it took me forever to find the blood in the hallway i was genuinely so confused as to what i was missing I went back into all of the storage closets and like triple checked i had exgauhsted all dialogue, and then i was trying the move my mouse all over the place to see if there was anything else to search and then i finally found it.

the trial was so fucking fun, as devastated as i was due to who the victim was it was a ton of fun figuring out the crime and i genuinelly thought it was gonna be diana and i was gonna be done with the trial in about 2 hours and only to hit and intermission and realize i hadn't used like half my evidence yet. the mechanism of the crime was really cool too and i had a lot of fun solving it, even if i did start to lose the plot when it came to the stuff of the cord and the vent but that might've just been me being tired. I will say i did not enjoy the bullet hell argument whatever it's called at the very end, the artwork was really cool but it took me FOREVER to beat it, and myabe that's just cause i'm bad at video games but ti was so frustrating getting to stage 3 multiple times then loosing all of my health and having the start all over again. i think it would have been better if you run of of health you have to start from the beginning of whatever stage you died on but hey maybe i just suck at the game idk.

okay now on to some more character specific stuff, first of all WOLFGANG AKIRE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU GAHHHH

ugh i'll admit it, i'm actually devastated he died first like seriously thank god the trial was as good as it was cause i might have stopped playing if it wasn't lol. in all seriousness though i was so excited for how he'd handle someone killing and all of the reprecussions with that only for him to die first lol. i really hope that this isn't the last we get to hear about him though, like i hope he's not just like a passing thought in ch 2 and then never mentioned again kind of a thing like hopefully he'll be plot relevant in the future or something idk i just want more wolfgang he's my fav BRING HIM BACKKKK. maybe we'll get to learn more about him through grace cause i'm now like 99% sure they knew each other before this whole mess lmao i mean come on grace wanted to be roomies with him and she was so fucking devastated by him dying and didn't want people poking around his room like come on.

and just everything you find out about his situation in the trial is just devastating oh my godddd. i was really worried they were gonna pull the whole "omg guys wolfgang was killed in self-defense and he was actually terrible this whole time and you all should have believed me(damon) cause i was right all along memememememe" and they didn't thank god. just that whole scene where diana reveals their confrontation was just so good like that is one of my top fangan scenes of all time now. just all the stuff he was saying revealing stuff about his character that might NEVER BE ELABORATED ON CAUSE HES FUCKING DEAD NOW WTFFFF WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS. and the voice acting was fucking incredible holy shit NAD THE FUCKING SPRITE WORK OH MY GOD THAT SHIT WAS AMAZING. the sprites for wolfgang and eva (i'll get to her later) were so fucking good i mean just look at this shit

LIKE THIS IS DEVESTATING TO ME LIKE HOLY FUCK BRO I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON IN UR HEAD AND NOW I NEVER WILL CAUSE UR DEAD UGHHHHHH

it's really funny cause i actually ended up doing all of his FTEs not knowing he was gonna die

now let's talk about eva cause holy fuck girl. i remember after the prologue she was one of my least favorite characters, cause it felt like her whole personality was "ooooo look at how mysterious and cool I am ooooooooo", but then you get the reveal that she lied about being the ultimate liar and you get her normal talent and she actually shows an actual personality and is a video game nerd i was like "omg yes i'm loving the p:eg team's take on this!" and she was moving up my character tier list ranking very quickly, and then she was revealed as the killer and she tried to pin everything on damon and then her reasons for killing wolfgang in the first place and she went right back down to the bottom LMAO. not because i thought she had bad writing or something but at the end of the day her motivations for taking the perk were pretty selfish and while i agree that wolfgang shouldn't have been trying to isolate her like that she kind of put a target on herself for no reason by lying about her talent like girl what did you think was going to happen lol. also her execution was fucking brutal, it looked incredible but damn was it brutal, she didn't need to go out like that omg.

as for some other characters, always gonna love my girls grace and cassidy they were a delight as always and i look forward to seeing more of them, diana went up on my tier list and i'm looking forward to seeing where her character goes from here, i'm also really loving jean a lot but he feels a little too helpful so i fear he might die next chapter lol.

i feel like there's more i have to say but im so tried lol so yeah have whatever this is lol. overall i had a great time playing and everyone did an amazing job working on it (even if i am really upset you killed my fav), i look forward to whatever the next chapter brings!