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scudslut · 9 months ago

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

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viennakarma · 11 months ago

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Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes.

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #formula one #Spotify

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explorevenus · 11 months ago

Text

addicted ♡ re2r!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call the cops

word count - 2.9k

description - by the end of the summer, you're bound for college and your boyfriend leon is bound for his shiny new police officer job in raccoon city. knowing your relationship could be threatened by the distance, your need for each other has become insatiable.

tags/warnings - porn with plot, soft dom leon, car sex, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, mildly angsty, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - this was a request by my beautiful goth puppy wife chaos baby @nexysworld <333 special thanks to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading and believing in me and also being my momager <3

recommended listening - addicted by saving abel

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w; <3

-venus ♡

Young adulthood felt so scary and new and weird.

You and Leon had been dating since high school and now you were fully legal adults, figuring out what to do with your lives and pretending you would both fit together seamlessly in each other’s plans. Just weeks ago he had graduated from the police academy and you had until the end of the summer to spend as much time together as possible before he would move into the city to become an officer, and you would be moving states away to attend college.

You told each other you would visit as often as possible, that you would call every day, that as soon as you finished school you would move back to Raccoon City to be with him, or he would find a hiring police station near you to settle into, and you would live happily ever after.

But there was a silent, knowing melancholy that hung over you all the while, and it intensified every day. Neither of you wanted to address it, for fear of spoiling what little time you had left, so it just hung there unspoken as you clung to each other for dear life.

Leon knocked quietly on your door, hoping not to wake your roommates. It was a crisp, clear summer evening and the forecast indicated a meteor shower would be visible, so as soon as he finished up at work, he took the top off of his Jeep, loaded the back with blankets and made his way to you.

His heart softened at the image of you wrapped in a blanket, ducking out of your apartment to follow him out to the car. It was nearing midnight and you were already in pajamas, but it felt right that way. Comfortable.

Soon enough you were sipping slushies from the gas station, your sneakers kicked up on the dashboard and the wind rushing through your hair as Leon drove the two of you up the base of the Arklay Mountains. There was a little lookout tucked away less than five miles up, one you frequented together practically since you met. This lookout had seen numerous makeouts and unquantifiable hours of conversation, silly and stupid and serious and solemn.

The car slowed to a stop and Leon threw it in park, moving his seat back so he could get comfortable. His lips were stained pink with cherry slush as he looked over to you with a gentle smile.

“Pretty, huh?” He asked, watching as you stared up at the sky, awe-filled eyes searching every gap in the void for a shooting star. His warm, broad hand still rested on your thigh, thumb skimming over the soft fabric of your sweatpants in a gentle caress.

Relaxing into his touch, you nodded, looking over at him now. Your own lips and tongue were tinted blue and what remained of your slushie was cold in the palm of your hand. It was funny, you thought, that you’d driven all the way out here to watch the meteor shower but still, you couldn’t help but watch each other. The breeze blew warm and the radio played lowly.

“You’re pretty,” You replied quietly, playing with his fingers. Even having been together for years, he still managed to make you shy.

Leon let out a soft laugh and shook his head, his other hand coming forward to tip your chin up. “You’re pretty too,” He began, and you were just beginning to blush when he added, “Pretty corny.”

You threw your head back and groaned dramatically, swatting at his chest. “You’re pretty annoying,” You griped, but before you could continue your playful rant, he guided you back toward him and pressed his lips against your own, and just like always, you melted almost instantaneously.

At the start the kiss was quite tender, communicating a sense of longing and connection that you had only ever felt with him. His thumb traced your jaw while his grip tightened on your thigh in an affectionate little squeeze and you felt as though you could sit here with him forever, craning your neck over the center console of his Jeep just to kiss him beneath the stars, just to breathe him in, to be with him. Leon was your safe place and even the thought of being away from him sent you into withdrawals.

Your shaking hand came up to cradle the back of his neck, fingers curling into his golden hair as you took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, wanting to get as much of him as you could. You wanted to horde him all to yourself, you wanted to sink into him and have him sink into you, to pause time and keep him there until you were sick of each other, though you knew no length of time together would ever feel like enough. Tongue swiping against his lower lip, you flattened your palm over the crotch of his jeans and massaged gently.

“F-Fuck, baby,” Leon grunted into your mouth, feeling all the blood rush to his cock in response to your touch and your languid kisses. “I’m gonna miss this…”

“Don’t,” You whispered, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Just wanna feel you…”

With a short nod of understanding he reconnected your lips, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants to dip a finger into your folds, delighted at the realization that you had gone without panties for the evening. He grinned into the kiss and slipped his tongue past you, the pads of his fingers quickly finding your clit with practiced ease.

Your lashes fluttered and your thighs shifted together, a quiet mewl of pleasure tumbling from you as you bucked up into his hand. With each passing second your heart was beating faster and you could feel the wetness collecting beneath his touch.

“Mm, my pretty baby,” He sighed out, the pad of his thumb flicking at your clit while his middle and index fingers petted at your hole. “Put your seat back. Let me taste you.”

There wasn’t a beat of hesitation as you reached down to recline your seat and push it back, and as you did so, Leon was making quick work of climbing over the center console to join you in the passenger seat. He gripped your thighs and pushed your legs up to rest on the dashboard as he yanked your sweatpants down in one swift motion, wasting no time smothering your plush inner thighs with kisses.

His pupils dilated by the scent of your cunt alone, and while he initially planned on taking his time with you, he just couldn’t help himself. Cramped down on the floor of his own passenger seat, Leon’s fingertips printed into your thighs as he dove forward to kiss and lap at your wetness, drinking you up with a deep, wanton need.

You tensed at the feeling, glittery heat washing over you before you relaxed into his mouth and brought one hand down to tug at his hair, encouraging him further. Your hazy eyes blinked open to look straight up at the sky, the cool night air foreign on your most intimate parts, but not unwelcome. It was quiet out, serene, private, as though you and Leon were the last two people on Earth. A shooting star cast across the sky in a blur, and you quickly realized that your wish was for you and Leon to be the last two people on Earth. Maybe that would be nice. At least your time together wouldn’t be so limited.

Losing Leon felt like losing a limb, even if he was only moving a few hours away to the other side of the mountain. Another shooting star streaked across the night sky, and you barely even noticed you had said something until you already finished speaking, “I wish you could stay… I feel like I can’t breathe without you…”

He hummed into your slick pussy, tongue swirling over your bud before pulling back just far enough to respond, “Not talking about it, baby, remember?”

Your face scrunched up a little bit as you realized your mistake and nodded, returning your focus to the glittering stars above you while your boyfriend sucked and licked at your cunt like he was starving. Soon enough his middle and index fingers were prodding at your hole, tracing the shape of you before sinking deep into your sticky, wet heat, your needy walls sucking him in.

What you didn’t know was that Leon had been focusing so much pleasure on you over the summer because it felt like making up for what he wouldn’t be able to do from thousands of miles away in the fall. You were the only thing he could bring himself to think about since roughly halfway to graduation at the police academy, when he was beginning to pester Raccoon City Police Department with his exemplary test scores and ever-growing resume– by the end of the year you would have both gone so far in separate directions, and long distance wasn’t something you ever excelled at. He knew that the day he left for Raccoon City, he would be effectively nailing the coffin shut.

So he bided his time by fucking you senseless almost daily, eating you out, pinning you down and driving you to tears with your toys, feeling every inch of you beneath his hands just so he wouldn’t forget. Every moan, every mewl, every whimper and sob and plea from you was like music to his ears, like pure heroin directly to the vein. Just like a drug, the better it felt in the moment, the more he knew it would hurt you both later on.

He felt you bucking into his nose and whining quietly, and every twitch of your muscles made his cock throb in his jeans. Leon couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you now.

Pulling back from your core, Leon moved quickly to undo his belt and shove his jeans down his thighs, desperate for some relief from the pressure and intoxicating desire. He was already dribbling precum just from the taste of you, a distinct wet patch growing at the front of his soft blue boxers that soon joined his pants down his legs, and shortly thereafter he was clumsily crawling over you in the passenger seat of his Jeep.

Almost like muscle memory, your arm fell behind you in a blind search for your purse in the back seat. You quickly retrieved it, digging through its contents as Leon’s hands shoved their way up your shirt to paw at your breasts, devouring your throat with kisses, making it a little difficult to maintain your focus. Finally you found what you were looking for, fingers coming into contact with that trusty little box… only to find it empty.

“L-Leon… mm, babe, hey,” You panted in an attempt to gather his attention. He hummed a barely noticeable sound of acknowledgment, but otherwise didn’t budge. You let him continue for a lingering second before breaking the news in a near whisper, “Leon, we’re out of condoms…”

He paused, breaths short and hips rutting into your own with need, his woefully hard cock grinding against your slit. While his body acted on its own in search of any friction he could get, his mind was spinning. He knew you weren’t on birth control and he knew a risk like this could ruin everything you’d both worked so hard for… but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In fact, it sort of spurred him on.

He buried his face into your neck again and sucked a harsh, dark mark into your skin, a feeling of possessiveness taking root in him. “Then we’re gonna risk it,” He said definitively, his voice low and almost growling in your ear. “Just think about it, sweetheart… Maybe if you let me knock you up, you can forget all about college… I could just whisk you away to the city with me and take care of you for the rest of our lives…”

A rush of heat struck you like a moving car and knocked the air out of your lungs. You knew it would be stupid to throw away your scholarships and every dream you’d had for yourself on a whim, but it was admittedly a nice fantasy at the very least. Arching into the palm of his hand, you relented.

“F-Fuck, fuck… Fuck me, Leon, please, just fuck me…”

And just as you anticipated, he took you up on that. A cool breeze rushed through the open vehicle as he lined himself up at your hole and drove into you, his vision going white for a second just at the intensity of the pleasure he felt, being engulfed by you again. Your body was heaven on Earth to him, you were heaven on Earth to him.

He sheathed into you down to the hilt with a low groan, one hand clutching your hip and the other tangled in your hair. Leon tugged your head aside by your hair so he could speak directly into your ear, “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. My girl, my wife, my pretty little baby mama…”

Each declaration was punctuated by a thrust of the hips, his swollen, leaking cock stuffed so deeply inside you that it was almost like you could feel him in your throat. Any and all concerns about your future, individually and as a couple, burned to ash in the far back of your mind as he fucked into with fervor. In this moment, Leon was all that mattered.

You quivered and writhed beneath him, your gummy insides pulsing and clenching around his length, and even with the top off the Jeep, the windows were beginning to accumulate a subtle fog on them. The two of you were hot and slick with sweat, drowning in the heat of each other and the late summer air.

“Leon,” You moaned, nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, for any shred of stability. “Make me yours…”

At this point, you couldn’t even tell if you were serious, and similarly to Leon, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were drunk on him and everything about him, the warmth of his skin, the pheromones that clung to his sweat, the strong grip of his hands and the sound of his breaths and the feeling of him railing into you like you were made for each other.

“Plannin’ on it, baby,” He said in response, words breathy and a smug grin tugging at his lips. He let go of your hair to plant his hand against the window as he increased his pace, plunging into you with ardor, his balls heavy and aching for release. “Gonna keep you all to myself, give you everything you ever wanted.”

The hand of his that was holding your hip just a moment ago was now wedging itself down between you to rub steady circles into your clit. You jolted at the contact, an incoherent cry tumbling from you, molten heat pooling up in your stomach. His earlier ministrations left both him and you especially sensitive and nearing your climaxes.

He could feel your peak approaching through the way you were convulsing around him, your wet cunt tightening and pulling him deeper with each stroke until he couldn’t even think anymore. Every last one of his senses was clouded– no, drenched with you. His pace stuttered just a little bit as he decided he couldn’t possibly hold back any longer.

With a loud, pleasured groan of your name, Leon stilled inside you as a torrent of cum flooded your waiting womb, warming you from the inside. What finally pushed you over the edge into your own release was Leon’s sly fingers tugging and pinching at your bud with expertise.

“G-God, fuck,” You sobbed, breaking skin as your nails raked down his strong back and gripped him as close to you as you could manage. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you coated his cock with your release, leaving behind a creamy white ring of arousal at the base of his softening sex.

Silence fell over the car as you clung to each other, broken only by your gasping breaths for oxygen. Leon buried his face into your shoulder and kissed the sizable hickie he’d left you earlier, still fresh and stinging.

“Did so good for me,” He huffed into your ear, nibbling at your lobe. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Eventually he pulled out, a sticky mixture of your juices dribbling out of your spent hole and down to the leather seat below you. As Leon climbed less than gracefully out of the passenger seat with his pants around his knees, you were both startled by the unexpected sight of headlights traveling up the very same mountain road that led you here, and the vehicle was pulling into the lookout.

“Shit,” Leon grumbled, rushing to fix his pants and toss you a blanket from the back seat to cover up with, given your sweatpants were lost somewhere on the floor of the car.

The intruding vehicle pulled up right behind Leon’s Jeep, headlights shining into the cabin as a person got out of the driver’s side… with a flashlight. Of course it had to be a cop.

Leon took a deep breath before rolling his window down with a polite smile. “Evening, officer… Nice night, isn’t it?”

#venustext #sintext #summit of beauty and love #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #nexy !!!

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speaknow-sw · 3 months ago

Text

𝑺𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒌

Summary : When your car broke down in the middle of 1950s Texas, you welcome with pleasure the help of a handsome cowboy.

Word count : 2.4k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, 1950s AU, Cowboy! Anakin, Ditzy!, Wealthy! Reader, surnames (doll, peach, dollie,), kissing, vaginal fingering, brief pussy-eating, PiV, breeding kink, wife kink, mentions of grooming, pregnancy kink ?

AN : Okay so I got that AU in my head since FOREVER. That damn picture of Hayden with the Stetson got me ruining so many panties. Here’s a tribute to all the Cowboy delulu wifeys. Hope you’ll enjoy !!!

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vast Texas plains. The air was thick with the scent of wild grass and the distant hum of cicadas. You, a city girl from New York, had never seen anything like it. The endless stretch of land, so different from the concrete jungle you were used to, was both beautiful and intimidating.

You had been on your way to visit a distant relative’s ranch, a place you’d never been before, when your car—an elegant, shiny Cadillac that was far too fancy for these dusty roads—had sputtered and died in the middle of nowhere. Now, here you were, miles from the nearest town, with no idea what to do.

Your pretty summer dress, all ruffles and soft pastels, was completely out of place here, with the silk scarf wrapped around your head to protect your hair from the burning sun. Your designer heels were sinking into the dirt with every step you took around the car, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You were lost, both literally and figuratively, your usual confidence shaken by the vastness of this wild, untamed place.

As you leaned against the car, biting your lip in frustration, the sound of hooves reached your ears. You looked up, shielding your eyes from the sun, and saw a figure on horseback approaching from the distance.

As the rider drew closer, you could make out more details—tall, broad-shouldered, with a wide-brimmed Stetson casting a shadow over his face. His horse was a magnificent creature, all muscle and grace, moving with the kind of power that took your breath away.

When he finally stopped a few feet away from you, you got your first real look at him. The man was strikingly handsome, with sandy blonde hair that curled under his hat and deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms, and worn jeans that clung to his legs in a way that made your heart race.

“Well, now, what’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all the way out here ?” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, with just the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You blinked up at him, momentarily lost for words. He was so different from the men you were used to—polished, city types in sharp suits and shiny shoes. This man was raw and rugged, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him.

“My car…” you started, feeling a little foolish under his steady gaze. “It just… stopped. I don’t know what to do.”

He dismounted with an easy grace, the muscles in his arms flexing as he swung down from the saddle. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, mixing with the warmth of the sun. He looked over the car, his expression thoughtful, before turning back to you.

“Well, I ain’t no mechanic, but I can take a look, dollie,” he offered, his tone kind but with an undercurrent of amusement, as if he found your predicament both endearing and a little amusing.

“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping aside to let him take a look under the hood. As he worked, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his fingers deftly moved over the engine, the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his back as he leaned over.

After a few minutes, he straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Looks like you’ve got a busted radiator, peach. You won’t be goin’ anywhere until it’s fixed.”

Your heart sank at his words. “Oh no, what am I going to do ?”

He glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped lower. “It’s gettin’ late. Best thing would be to come back to my place. It ain’t too far, and you can stay the night. I’ll take a look at your car in the morning, doll, see what can be done.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of staying with a stranger making you nervous, but there was something about him—something solid and trustworthy—that made you nod in agreement. “Alright, thank you, cowboy. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you a nod and helped you up onto his horse, his hands firm and steady as they gripped your waist. You settled into the saddle, feeling a bit awkward, but his presence behind you was reassuring.

As you rode through the fields, the wind gently tugging at your hair, you couldn’t help but lean back against him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His arm was wrapped around you, holding the reins, and you could feel the strength in him, the quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from every part of him.

Suddenly your silk scarf escaped from your head and you gasped. A strong hand latched backwards and caught the fabric. The cowboy winked at you and pocketed your scarf not without smelling it beforehand, leaving you speechless.

When you finally arrived at his ranch, the sky was a deep indigo, the stars just beginning to twinkle above. The house was a charming, rustic place, with a wide porch and warm, inviting lights glowing from the windows.

He helped you down from the horse, his hands lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary, sending a thrill through you. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cozy warmth of the living room, the scent of wood and leather filling the air.

“You can make yourself at home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ll get you somethin’ to drink.”

You nodded, wandering over to the fireplace, your fingers lightly brushing over the mantel as you took in the room. When he returned, he handed you a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight.

As you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spread through you, mixing with the heat that had been steadily building inside you since the moment he’d appeared on that dusty road. You coughed your lungs out at the burn.

“I never did catch your name,” you said, looking up at him over the rim of your glass.

“Name’s Anakin,” he replied, his eyes locked onto yours. “Anakin Skywalker.”

You smiled, the name fitting him perfectly. “Thank you again, Anakin. For helping me.”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s my pleasure, darlin’. Can’t leave a lady in distress.”

There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You could feel the tension building, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you knew it, he was right in front of you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

You could only nod, your voice failing you as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

And then he was kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—raw, passionate, and filled with a desire that made your head spin.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the kiss deepened.

His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the hard lines of his body against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt, igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t even realized was there.

You gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your knees weak, his stubble scratching deliciously against your throat. His hands were everywhere, sliding down your back, over your hips, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that matched your own.

“Anakin…” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning you there with a strength that made your pulse race.

“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. “I’ve gotcha’, darlin’. Jus’ let me take care of ya’.”

And take care of you he did. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, where he laid you down on the soft, inviting bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm, golden light.

He stood above you for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as he took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. And then he was on you, his hands and lips exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire in you that burned hotter with every touch, every kiss.

Anakin's kisses trailed down your neck, his hands sliding over your dress, finding the zipper at the back. With a smooth motion, he pulled it down, the fabric slipping off your shoulders, exposing the delicate lace of your lingerie. His breath hitched at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Pretty, lil’ angel," he whispered, his voice husky as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, making your skin tingle. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, until you were arching into him, desperate for more.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, before he helped you, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

The sight of him, all hard muscles and golden skin, took your breath away. His chest was broad, his abs defined, and you couldn’t resist running your hands over his torso, feeling the heat and power of him beneath your fingertips.

He groaned at your touch, his hands slipping under your bra, pushing it up to free your breasts. His mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue teasing your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you that had you gasping his name.

His hands were everywhere, sliding down your sides, over your hips, pushing your dress the rest of the way off until you were lying there in nothing but your panties. He paused for a moment, just looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that made your skin flush with heat.

Then he was kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, his hands sliding down to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you, the evidence of his desire making you ache with need.

"Anakin," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as he kissed his way down your body, his hands hooking into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling with anticipation.

He kissed the inside of your thighs, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, making you shiver. And then his mouth was on you, his tongue stroking over your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that made you cry out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working together to drive you higher and higher, until you were teetering on the edge, your body strung tight with need. And then he was inside you, filling you completely, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back. « Gonna make you a mommy, » he grunted, biting your throat. His hands gripped your waist tightly probably letting bruises. He swallowed the sweet skin of your cleavage in his mouth, suckling hickeys and pressing hot, tongue kisses on your chair. « My sweet little wife, gonna drag you on the aisle, » he pounded harder in you, his large cock reducing you at a doll-like state, your cock drunk face driving his crazy. « You’ll gimme babies, huh ? As much babies as I want. Gonna keep you round and full of me. Mine. My wife, the mother of my children. » his thrusts got sloppy and his face contorted in a mask of need.

The pleasure built and built, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, your body clinging to his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You screamed your release, arching your back and curling your toes.

Anakin followed you over the edge, his own release spilling deep into you as he groaned your name, his body tensing above you before he collapsed, pulling you into his arms as you both lay there, breathing hard, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath.

The night was a blur of passion and desire, a heady mix of pleasure and sensation that left you breathless and yearning for more. Anakin moved with a confidence that only came from someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and he made sure you knew it too. He took his time with you, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips. He pushed you to the edge again and again, his touch driving you wild, until you finally tumbled over, your body arching into his as you were consumed by the pleasure that only he could give you. You couldn’t count how much time he made you cum and came himself but you sure knew your belly wasn’t this bloated when you started.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the sheets as you settled into the warmth of each other’s embrace. Then he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he murmured, "I knew you were somethin’ special, doll."

You smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile as you snuggled closer to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "I guess I’ll have to find more reasons to get stranded in Texas," you teased, your voice soft and content, the Stetson since forgotten on the floor.

The End…

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #james kelly #sam monroe #scott barringer #anakin smut #anakin x reader #evie writes #cowboy #fuck…

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sansaorgana · 5 months ago

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hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him

hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘

[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]

requests for benny are open 🥺🎀

Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.

“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.

“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.

“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.

“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.

“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.

Jesus, what was going on with her these days?

You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.

You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.

When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.

You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.

“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.

“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”

You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?

“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.

“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.

“Still living with your ma?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.

On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.

“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.

“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.

“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”

“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.

“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.

“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.

You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.

You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.

“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.

The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.

“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,

He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.

You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.

Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.

However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.

Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.

Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.

“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.

“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right.

“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.

“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.

In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.

Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.

“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.

“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”

“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”

“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.

“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.

“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.

“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.

“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.

“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.

“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.

Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.

“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”

But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.

“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.

He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.

“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”

“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.

“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.

“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.

“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer…

You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?

But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.

“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.

“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.

“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.

Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.

And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.

Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.

“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.

“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.

“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.

He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.

“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.

“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.

“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.

“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.

“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”

“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.

“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.

A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.

“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.

“In the evening,” you nodded.

“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.

“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.

“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”

You furrowed your brows at those words.

“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.

Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.

Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #lilysfiction #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #*benny

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homiesexuallaj · 3 months ago

Note

hi, can you please write eric draven x reader where he gets jealous?

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: uh oh! jealous Eric, reader has pierced nipples, yucky man, a man flirts with you, a man oogles you with his eye balls, violence, slight violence, drinking, alcohol mention, Eric is also protective, you get carried :), kinda proofread

A/N: Okay! Here it is! I hope you like it!!

--- --- ---

You assured Eric that you'd be fine. You'd been trying to smooth down his worries since around mid-afternoon when you told him a couple of friends and you were going clubbing later that night. You insisted that he stay home or go watch the city while you had your fun. Eric wouldn't have any of it at first, insisting that it's not safe at night. After a couple hours and a thousand words, Eric finally gave in, only if you promised to stay safe and stay with your group. You promised.

Now, you're heading out. Or trying to. You hadn't even gotten the front door open before your boyfriend insisted that he help fix your clothes. He straightened your pockets from the tear in your jeans and pulled down the cuff of the leather jacket you wore, urging it to hide the skin that your black cropped shirt was showing. His eyes flitted to your chest and his eyebrows furrowed instantly. It was obvious you didn't have a bra on, your piercings showing through the tight fitting shirt.

"Eric-" You started.

"It's too cold out for clothing like this," Eric murmured.

"Eric, it's summer," You reasoned.

He didn't seem to hear you so you grabbed his hands in your own. It was then that he met your eyes with his own.

"Eric," You got his attention. "I'll be fine. My girls are waiting downstairs."

"My girl should stay here," Your boyfriend responded, a pout lacing his words.

"Eric," You responded softly.

"Okay okay," Eric let go of your hands and dug into his front pocket. "One more thing."

You watched as he pulled a small-medium sized box from his pocket and opened it in your direction. Inside was a chain necklace with a few blood-red garnets placed into the chain all around. It seemed to be custom made.

"Oh Eric," You gasped.

You gingerly picked up the necklace from the box, holding it up into the light to get a better look at its shininess. It was very pretty and you loved garnets! It was obvious Eric picked this out solely for you.

"Here," Eric grabbed the necklace from you and turned you around.

He brought the necklace around to your front and clasped it behind you. Your boyfriend turned you around slowly, adjusting the necklace a bit once you faced him.

"Thank you!" You pulled Eric into a hug, arms reaching up over his shoulders to pull him down to your height. "It's very pretty."

You pulled away, leaving your arms up on his shoulders. You looked into his eyes, your own loving gaze reflected on your boyfriend's face.

"Not as pretty as you," Eric leaned down and gave a peck to your lips.

"Oh you flirt," You pushed Eric away playfully, and so he'd let you go be with your friends.

The boy gripped your hand, his previously happy expression replaced by something that is obviously trying to guilt you into staying. He huffed, unhappy.

"At least let me walk you down," Eric pleaded for just a few more moments with you.

"Of course," You agreed.

You both walked to the front door. You didn't get to reach for the door handle as Eric's was already there, twisting the knob and pulling the door open. You looked at him and your boyfriend bowed, holding out an arm to show you the way. You huffed a laugh, leading the way out the door.

Eric grabbed onto your hand before your first step down the stairs. You two were even all the way down until you heard the loud chatting of your friends. Eric then led the way, keeping you behind him so he could scope out the people gathered at the bottom of the staircase.

It was only a small show of protectiveness from him. The night of the city was dangerous and Eric was determined to keep you from that. The caw of a crow announced your arrival.

Your friends looked over and cheered when you appeared from behind your protective boyfriend. You walked around Eric, letting his hand go so you could hug your friends hello. You made your way down the line before bumping into a taller body you didn’t know. You backed away and looked up, making eye contact with an unfamiliar man. You stepped back more, putting a more than appropriate distance between you two.

“Oh that’s Tommy!!” One of your girl friends, Patty, hung on you while introducing you two.

“Y/N,” You introduced, holding out a hand as a formality.

The unknown man took your hand, “Tommy.”

Instead of giving it a casual shake, Tommy raised your hand to his lips and gave your knuckles a kiss. After a moment too long, the man pulled away gave you a low eye-lidded smile. His eyes flicked to the side when a large hand grabbed your wrist. He straightened up, observing your companion with disinterest and surprise.

You looked to your right. Your friend Patty was replaced by your bristling boyfriend. He gripped onto your wrist gently but you could see veins of irritation popping out from the back of his hand. Eric stood a good couple over inches over the newcomer, allowing him to glower down at the man.

“This is Eric,” You introduced, adjusting your hand in his grip so you could hold his hand in a loving and stable embrace. “My boyfriend!”

Tommy nodded, “Nice to meet you.”

Before Eric could respond, Patty chimed in once again, “Oh don’t be so mean, Eric! Tommy meant no harm!!”

Eric flitted his eyes down to Patty before right back at Tommy, obviously trying to figure out just what the hell this guy’s deal was.

“Eric’s just a little protective,” Patty explained, giving Eric a “pat pat” on his shoulder. “But we better get going before the crowd starts piling in! C’mon!!”

The group of four women and one man grouped together and set a slow pace down the sidewalk.

You turned to Eric, gripping his hand with both of your hands now, “I’ll stay with the group, keep out of danger, and won’t drink too much. I have change on me to call if I don’t feel safe.” You reasoned with the poor boy, calming his nerves and hostility.

With a sigh, the shake in Eric’s hand disappeared, “Okay.”

“Okay,” You gave a loving kiss to Eric’s lips and gently let go his his hand, backing away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You joined your group with a small jog, falling between Patty and another one of your girl friends, Kristin. With a few glances back, you determined that Eric watched you walk down the sidewalk all the way until you turned the corner.

——

When you approached the club, you were blinded by the colorful LED lights. But the dark silhouette of a crow shielded away one of the sign’s letters. You only chuffed a laugh and shook your head. You should’ve known that Eric wouldn’t have let you go out alone, no matter if you’re with friends or not.

The flashing lights inside the building are surprising. There weren’t many clubs that started their party thing early, but as you gaze around there’s an above average amount of people in here for this time of night. It’s crowded and there’s a height in temperature from all the bodies.

“Let’s get some drinks!” Patty shouted above the pulsing music. “I’m buying!!”

Your group cheered and followed Patty to the bar.

You all got your drinks with ease, loitering around one of the tall tables until you finished your first glass. After going back for two more drinks, Kristin decided it was time to hit the dance floor. You five girls danced around with each other, either dancing as a whole or passing each other around. The other four included Tommy in on the dancing, but you made sure to stray away from his arms to avoid his “flirtatious personality” as one of your girls described.

You could barely shrug off that comment, feeling as though Tommy had no respect for that fact that you were taken. Maybe he thought you and Eric hadn’t been together then long, despite it being obvious that your girls had mentioned you two in conversation. But with a couple more drinks you’d forgotten all about the fact that the new guy was pining after you.

At this point it was well passed midnight and you felt like a baby deer walking on ice, which was either from the constant dancing or the amount of drinks you had tonight. But nonetheless, one of yall decided to call it a night and wander on home. You all gathered around the pay phone outside the club so the most of you that lived outside of town could get a ride home.

You, Patty, and Tommy (who all lived in town) leaned against the brick wall of the club, breathing in the fresh air and chatting quietly. When one of the girls complained about being a nickel short at the pay phone, Patty went to the rescue and left you alone with Tommy. With a chance, Tommy turned and leaned against the brick with an arm over your head, cornering you.

“That boy, Eric, must be pretty insecure if he gets so angry over a man showing some proper etiquette towards a woman,” Tommy started.

His pose and words caught you off guard and you looked up at Tommy with wide eyes, confused on where this was going. You would take a step back, but the open alley behind you made you nervous.

“I would never get that insecure,” Tommy sighed, leaning in. “I’d let you be your own woman and talk to whoever you want.”

Tommy leaned in more, glancing downwards at your breasts, which were perked up against the chill of the summer night, “Wear what you want.”

Sensing some unwanted upcoming contact you let your lizard brain take over and you kicked Tommy in between his legs and stumbled backwards to get away. You tripped over something and landed straight on your butt, barely catching yourself on your hands so you didn’t fall all the way back. At the impact of you hitting the concrete, a crow cawed somewhere above you.

You heard something hit the wall, a pained grunt, and the gasps of women behind you. You looked up and saw a figure dressed in all black, most of the figure being covered by a long, black trench coat. Their wavy hair covered most of their face, giving you only a peak at the ghost white face, black eyes, and black lips. The figure had Tommy pressed up against the brick wall with their forearm and their fist clenched.

“Hands off,” the black figure growled in a familiar voice.

“I wasn’t doing anything, man!” Tommy protested.

In a quick movement, Tommy raised a fist and threw it towards his assailant’s face. But the figure moved even quicker, catching Tommy’s fist in one hand and throwing a punch of their own with their other hand. Tommy fell completely to the ground, catching himself with a hand. He stood, cradling the wounded side of his face.

Your savior stood between you and Tommy. Their black coat flowing with the wind. You could see their fists clenched at their sides. They approached Tommy, taking advantage and kicking his feet from under him.

“Next time,” The black coated figure crouched down. You could see him grab ahold of Tommy’s hair, forcing him to look his assailant in the face, “Keep a distance.”

The assailant threw Tommy’s head to the side, standing. When they turned you were met with a familiar white painted face. The area around their eyes painted black with black lines pointing away from the area, and their lips painted black with thin lines forming a faux smile up to their cheek bones. The figure approached you, leaning down and helping you up at your bent elbow.

“Eric,” You breathed, relieved to escape from the situation you were forced into.

“It’s alright,” Your boyfriend soothed you, his thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of your elbows.

Eric slid his hands up your arms until he reached your hands. He turned the appendages over, inspecting the damage.

Your hands were scraped up, dirt and small rocks imbedded into the skin. A few scrapes tearing at the layers of skin and leaking blood. They shook in his grasp, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

"I'm gonna kill him," Eric muttered, shoulders tense with rage.

The sound of a car pulling up distracted you both. You looked to the side to see a cab pulling up to the curb. You watched as three of your girl friends pilled into the car, giving you and your companion frightened looks. When the back door shut, the cab drove off and took your friends home.

A muttering behind Eric caught your attention. You watched as Tommy stood, rubbing the wounded side of his face, the skin already raised and red. The man stumbled a bit, glaring at Eric.

"What a jackass," Tommy muttered before speaking louder. "I don't even know who you are, man."

Before Eric could speak his rebuttal, Patty stomped towards the wounded man, "Tommy! What the hell?!"

Patty stuck a finger in Tommy's chest, "That was not appropriate! I introduce you to a long-time friend of mine and all you can do is think with that small head of yours!"

"I'm just drunk, Patty," Tommy tried to shrug the scolding off.

"Bullshit!" Patty spat. "You had like two beers tonight."

Tommy didn't respond. Patty huffed and then turned towards you, her stern expression relaxing into concern.

"You alright?" Patty approached you two, not at all off-put by the bristling man-in-black that still held your wrists.

"Just a bit shaken up," You tell her.

Patty nods and whispers, "Tommy's in big trouble. I'll take care of him, don't you worry."

You chuckled, "You better."

You knew that Patty's small height couldn't compare to her attitude, especially when it came to her friends.

After determining you were alright, Patty turned and practically grabbed Tommy by his ear. He yelped and complained, but your friend wasn't having any of it. She led the taller man away from you and Eric. You could hear your friend scolding Tommy all the way down the street, and maybe even still as they turned a corner.

A huff caught your attention and you winced as something wiped the rocks and dirt away from your palms.

"Ouch," You whispered.

"Sorry," Eric apologized, still wiping away the dirt from your palms. "Just trying to clean you up a bit."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a minute before looking you in the eyes. You couldn't even try to decipher the emotions swirling in his black orbs before you were swooped off your feet. You gave a small yelp of surprise.

"E-Eric! I can walk, y'know," You tried to reason with him.

"But you're hurt," Eric reasoned back, adjusting you in his arms to comfortably hold you in a bridal-style position.

You could only huff a laugh, knowing that it would be futile to argue with your caring boyfriend. You leaned into Eric's chest, keeping your arms to yourself to shield your hands from the small breeze that caused a pang of hurt when the air hit the scrapes on your palms.

Eric carried you all the way back to your guys' loft. The flapping of wings above let you know that Eric's crow wasn't far behind.

--- --- ---

A/N: This is like my first ever fic of Eric Draven so I hope I did him justice. If any of you guys are interested, requests for Eric Draven x readers are open! My askbox is open!!

#the crow 1994 #the crow #eric draven #brandon lee #the crow x reader #the crow imagines #eric draven x reader #eric draven imagines #brandon lee x reader #brandon lee imagines

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago

Text

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

651 notes · View notes

bluesidez · 5 months ago

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 10

content warning: “vague” descriptions of American colleges (iykyk), Winston [Earth-928/ Earth-TRN590] is here with a cool prosthetic arm (he originally has three! so I thought it would be cool to incorporate his robot arm back somehow), suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE (although you shouldn’t be looking at this series at all 😒), Miguel is the baby of his friend group, if the Spanish here is wrong please lmk!

word count: 3.8k, proofread so there should be no mistakes (something short and sweet!)

In case you missed it, you can find GR!Miguel’s full SFW + NSFW Alphabet here!

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who has become one with his room. The bed is comfortable, the AC is just right, and more importantly, he can hide here in solitude.

His parents decided to host Gabriel’s graduation party, Gabriel’s college acceptance party, and a Fourth of July party all at once. It was nonstop trips to Sam’s, Party City, and the grocery store.

Gabriel got a full ride to a prestigious art school up north and his parents were using every second of the summer to make time for him.

They didn’t do nearly as much for him when he graduated and got a full ride. Although, Miguel guesses the shiny Range Rover from Tyler parked outside was enough to soothe the old wounds trying to reopen. Plus, Gabriel really deserved it. The chances of getting in were low, but Miguel helped every step of the way and now a bright future in the Big Apple was calling his name.

Still, if his dad called him to cut the grass or season another pack of meat, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who was glad to see you were still enjoying your summer. He was probably the first to watch your stories, like your pictures, and even comment on your little notes.

He hoped it came off as endearing and dedicated because sometimes he worried it was annoying and clingy. He couldn’t help it, though. You’re always on his mind nowadays.

Today you had posted clips of you and your friends at a Boba shop. He could hear your laughter as you zoomed in one of your friends fighting for their life after sucking up a boba ball.

He smiled to himself as he played the video a few more times just to hear you.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to play a Gacha game on his phone to distract his wandering mind.

There was a character he wanted and he wasn’t stopping until he got her.

GymRat!Miguel who three domains, a farming session, several 10-pulls, and a lucky spot later did not get the character he wanted. He was heartbroken, shattered, and inconsolable.

He groaned and flipped over to the wall, choosing a few colorful words to complain.

GymRat!Miguel who’s half-asleep state is interrupted by Gabriel doing their special knock and poking his head inside.

“Whatdoyouwant,” Miguel pushed his face further in his pillow in hopes that it would make him disappear.

“Broski, your friends are here,” Gabriel sang as if he were a white suburban mom with too much time on her hands. “And they bombarded my TikTok stream so if you could please retrieve them, that would be nice.”

Miguel poked his head up, “Are you rating people’s talents again?”

“Even better. I’m being an NPC and making bank!”

“Why don’t you ever play the saxophone or something?”

“Because that’s not what the people want me to do, Miguel. The people want to see me go ‘Lick a lil sum!’ over and over again. They eat it up.”

Miguel squinted at the bright light coming from the hallway, “In a pickle suit?”

Gabriel looked down as much as he could with his constricted movement, only his appendages sticking out of the holes, and looked back to Miguel with gritted teeth.

“If you would have put your Nightwing costume back on, I could have been Robin and we could have made money together. But it seems that you hate me.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches Tempest push the door open further and shuffle around a seething Gabriel.

“I still don’t know why you’re dressed like a Spongebob character,” she laughs at his green tights.

“I’m not Kevin! Stop saying that. There’s no glasses. There’s no crown. There’s no pants!”

Lyla poked her head around him.

“‘Lewser.’”

Gabriel yelled and turned around, waddling back to his room, “I’m not letting the Geek Squad bully me!”

“You say that like you’re not one of us!” Winston shouted after him, shells and beads in his hair clanking together.

“One of us, one of us, ONE OF US!” the trio started to chant at Miguel’s door.

Gabriel just let out incoherent noses until he was able to shut his door.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like hissing when Tempest opens his blinds.

“Please, no more!” he whined into the pillow.

“What’s with you two today? So snappy,” she mumbles.

Winston stood by the door with his hands on his hips, “Have you been in here all day?”

Miguel sits up, “No.”

“You look like it,” Lyla snickers, kicking a bag out of the way.

“We haven’t seen you in like, forever, and you’re acting like you don’t really care,” Tempest pulls up her long, ruffled skirt to plop on the bed next to Miguel. “Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Did someone die?” Winston pulls out Miguel’s gaming chair to take a seat.

“No.”

“Wait!” Lyla’s voice makes everyone jump. “You failed your class for the first time and now your life is ruined.”

“What? No, never.”

GymRat!Miguel who perks up at the sound of the text tone he picked just for you.

“Look!”

“I just found this picture of us”

“We’re working hard 🫡”

“I’m putting in overtime”

“There’s no PTO”

“Only work”

“We get paid in kisses”

“Only kisses?”

“Everything else is a bonus check for being the perfect employee”

"Aka my girlfriend"

“And what does that bonus check look like?”

“Hmmm”

“She looks divine”

“She tastes really sweet too”

“Inside and out”

“What does your bonus check look like?”

“He’s big and hot 😌”

“He looks really nice when I love on him”

“He feels really good”

“Be very lucky you’re not near me rn”

“What?”

“I’m just describing my elite employee!”

“Aka my bf”

“I feel really good?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re my teddy bear”

“….and you also feel good in other places that I won’t be spelling out”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t feel Tempest leaning over his shoulder until her voice snaps him back to reality.

“No fucking way you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell anybody.”

She snatches the phone from his hands.

“Temp, give it back!”

“And you’re getting freaky with her while we’re right here!”

“No, I’m not-”

“It says right here ‘she tastes really sweet, inside and out.’ It’s in 4K!” Tempest shoved the phone in Winston’s face who gets the derpiest smile.

“My man!” he reaches his hand out to Miguel to dap him up, ending it in the handshake that only the two of them know. “You finally got a girl and you putting in that work. Let’s. Fucking. Go.”

“At least someone is on my side.”

“I never said I wasn’t on your side. I’m just stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell anyone. No texts, no socials. Just tumbleweed in that big ass head of yours,” Tempest pushed a duck nail against Miguel’s temple. “Like you could have died, and we would have never known.”

“I’m sorry, Temp, it’s been a hectic year.”

“And now it’s summer. We’ve got nothing but time,” she grabbed a pillow to place in her lap. “So get to talking Migster.”

“Yeah, while I can understand waiting to tell us about your girl, this is like, what, the second strike for you? First, no yacht and now this? Aggy,” Winston shook his head.

“All three of you had plans! I checked!”

“And it’s looking like you’ve been with her for almost a year. Wow,” Lyla said from a bean bag on the floor.

Miguel reaches to snatch it from her, teeth gritted in a way that mimicked his brother.

“I never knew you could get so romantic! Maybe scratch the arcade idea off, though. You get way too competitive.”

Tempest hit Miguel with her pillow, “An entire year?”

“Cold-blooded. I should smack you next,” Winston struck his metal arm back like he was getting ready to swing.

Miguel held his hands up, “I’ll finally let you teach me how to play Halo!”

Winston sat back, “2k too, and all is forgiven.”

“Halo and one round of 2k.”

“Deal,” Winston shook Miguel’s hand. “You’ll be hooked once you get the hang of it.”

“God, I hope not,” Lyla mumbled.

“Says the one who yells at children on Roblox,” Winston bit back.

“You don’t hear what those heathens say, I do!”

GymRat!Miguel who is forced to make a short PowerPoint about his past year while his friends help Miguel’s parents set up even more.

“I want a Final-worthy presentation by the time we get back! I even showed you where to get the cute templates,” Tempest fusses from the door before she closes it.

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while they’re gone.

“I mean, if it were me who just found out that my closest friend told me essentially nothing about their partner for that long, I’d be pretty upset too.”

Miguel groans as he leans back in his chair, “That is pretty fucked, isn’t it?”

“But, because I was with you most of the school year, I know that you were just preoccupied with other things. Figuring out college, checking off a lot of adult firsts, making new friends, dealing with family, totally scrambling your way through getting your first girlfriend.”

“Hey…”

You laugh at his annoyed expression and snap a picture, “I’m sure if you just explain things to them, they’ll understand.”

“I hope so. I already promised Winston a game of 2k.”

You scrunched your nose in the cute way that Miguel adored, “I’ll take a gamer, nerdy boyfriend any day. Might draw the line at 2k, I fear.”

“My face doesn’t cancel out the bad connotation?”

“Depends. Will you cancel on me in place of playing with your friends?”

Miguel’s eyes looked to you on his laptop with a frown on his face, “Never. I don’t think I’d do that for anything that can be rescheduled. Did he do that?”

Miguel didn’t want to say his name because it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“More than I’d like to admit, yes.”

“If I ever see him, I might punch him.”

“Miguel.”

“I’m so serious. There hasn’t been one good quality about him yet.”

Only the fact that he was a good stepping stone to get to Miguel, not that he would ever say that out loud.

“He was…nice when I met him.”

“Just nice?”

“He had a cute face!”

Miguel’s frown deepened, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, actually.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his PowerPoint with the help of you.

Honestly, you just had to sit pretty in the corner of his monitor.

GymRat!Miguel who was ready to present once his friends got back, each of them sporting a Fanta in their hands.

“Nobody brought me one?”

Tempest made a noise of satisfaction when she took a sip, “A cold one is waiting for you when you finish, buddy.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and set up the PowerPoint.

GymRat!Miguel whose presentation is dragged even further because everyone keeps asking questions.

Section 1: New Experiences

“Only you would attract sorority girls despite the clear baby boy energy radiating off of you,” Tempest said.

“I mean, look at him,” Lyla gestured to Miguel’s body. “We still see our big baby, but that body? That’s what people notice first. We should have prepared him more.”

Miguel’s face fumed as he went to the next slide.

“And only you would make friends with the cafeteria lady. She saw the baby aura,” Tempest quipped.

“L-let’s just move on,” Miguel mumbled.

“You’re on the robotics team!! There’s our Miggy,” Lyla rounds her words like she was talking to a child.

“Guys, Miguel is going to be a tomato if you don’t stop,” Winston chides.

Section 2: Family

“I’ve been waiting on somebody to get that gremlin Kron and you finally got him,” Lyla shook her head with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry about your mom, though. She didn’t really like us too much either when we first started to hang out,” Tempest pulled her knees up to her chin.

“Mind you, I had a mean set of braces, suspenders, and high water pants when we first met,” Winston said.

“Oh my god. Remember when she thought Tempest was tricking Mig into doing her homework?”

“When all I was doing was comparing answers because Miguel was the only one who could keep up with me in that class,” Tempest snickered. “Glad me and Mrs. O’Hara moved past that because I was definitely looking out for you more than she was.”

“Remember when she thought you two were dating?” Winston asked.

Miguel groaned, “That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“You think now I read as a raging lesbian or what?”

Section 3: My Gorgeous Girlfriend Whom Which I Love

“The same guy who lectured me for 10 minutes over not jumping out of a car to hold the door for my girlfriend left his girl at a party?” Winston snickered.

Lyla played with the end of a braid in her hair, “Chivalry is dead.”

“Get all your jokes out now, because we’re going strong,” Miguel waved everyone off as he flipped to the next slide.

“Is that her?” Lyla sat up as much as she could in her sinking seat.

“Yeah,” Miguel’s smile grew at the picture of you from a coffee date on the screen.

“Look at him,” Winston pointed a finger. “He can’t even speak. He’s gone.”

“She’s hot! Nice job Miguel,” Tempest clapped with a giddy smile on her face. “You’re like, lovestruck over there.”

Miguel continued to flip through the several slides he had of you, face sinking further into his palm as he stared at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Does Xina know you have a girlfriend?”

“Woof,” Tempest and Winston said in a low voice simultaneously.

Miguel tilted his head with a confused expression, “What’s with the ‘woof’? Why are you all looking like that? And where is Xina, anyway?”

“She said her parents wanted her to go visit family, so she’s far, far away right now.”

“Did you know she’s transferring to your school?” Lyla asks.

“Why? I thought she was going to an Ivy League somewhere. It was all she talked about.”

Tempest’s eyebrows raised, “Can’t stay at an Ivy League if you fuck up your scholarship.”

"She told me that she didn't like it there," Winston looked confused.

Lyla and Tempest just stared at each other in disbelief.

“If you worked your ass off from starting a non-profit to being the school valedictorian, just to get into one school, would you just up and leave after one school year without finding better options?” Lyla deadpanned.

“Hey, we don’t know what happened. Maybe she really didn’t like it there, guys,” Miguel said.

Lyla and Tempest both gave Miguel twin looks as if telling him to get serious.

“Well, if she’s going to your school, I’m sure you’ll see her at some point. Maybe she’ll tell you,” Winston suggested.

“Yeah, Miguel. She’ll tell you anything if you ask,” Lyla folded her arms with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“It just means,” Tempest waved her hands around. “She’s enamored by you.”

“Guys. Stop.”

“She’s not lying. Every time we hang out together, she’s always clinging to you,” Winston said.

“It’s been years and she’s never told me anything,” Miguel reached to exit the PowerPoint. What was about to be a 10 minute yap session about you was now turning into something else. “I doubt that if she felt that way, she still feels that way now.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lyla shrugged.

Tempest nodded her head, “Good on you for being so optimistic.”

Miguel squinted his eyes, “You two are freaking me out.”

GymRat!Miguel who sat with his friend’s words once they dropped him off back home after an impromptu day of fun.

He really needed to get out of the house to reset, but he couldn’t help but to worry about Xina.

He was there when she worked herself to the bone just to even be considered for the top schools. When she got in, she was over the moon.

What could have possibly made her stop now?

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to sound of his dad laughing and yelling outside of his window.

He dragged himself to the window to see him running around with his brothers with a nerf gun.

It would be a pretty funny sight if it wasn’t 7 in the morning.

GymRat!Miguel who goes through his morning routine of booting Gabriel up, taking his morning run, and eating a hefty breakfast.

He sends you a picture of himself right after he finished the run, sweat dripping down his neck and his skin glowing from the hot sun.

Knowing you were probably still asleep, he doesn’t expect a response until later. So when you call him immediately, he’s filled with surprise.

“Sending thirst traps at ass o’clock is crazy,” you say as soon as the call connects.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you just happened to take the perfect picture in the sun with your skin all wet?”

“Are you saying that I’m photogenic?”

You roll your eyes and Miguel laughs, happy to see you.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asks, noticing the fluffy headband you’re wearing that’s holding your hair back.

“We’re going to my aunts house and she lives about two hours away so I got up early to get ready.”

“Bebe, qué hermosa eres.” (Baby, how beautiful you are.)

You pause what you’re doing to turn and stuff your head into a plushie to scream.

“You can’t tell me that,” you say when look back to the camera, fanning your face. “I won’t stay focused.”

“But it’s true. You’re stunning.”

You groan and slide down your chair, “Miguel, please. I need to focus.”

“Ok, ok. You still look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you say, patting the back of your hands against your heated cheeks.

“I wanna kiss you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

Miguel laughs as you bring the phone to your face.

“I wanna kiss you, too,” you say before ending the call.

GymRat!Miguel who blows your phone up with teases after that.

It all shuts up once he sees your outfit of the day.

“You can’t do this to me”

“Baby????”

“This is agony”

GymRat!Miguel who is the loudest when Gabriel makes his grand entrance to the party, graduation cap snug on top of his curls. His family is popping mini confetti and string cannons while his little cousins blow bubbles.

GymRat!Miguel who catches Gabriel at any chance he was idle, snapping picture after picture like a proud parent.

GymRat!Miguel who stacks his plate high full of food to the shock of no one.

GymRat!Miguel who almost gets knocked down by Gabriel when he opens his gift of specialized sheet music. After years of hearing the songs Gabriel would blast through the house, he compiled together a music book with covers done by different artists.

"I'm going to play every single one of these for you," Gabriel says with a geeked-out smile.

"Oh boy."

GymRat!Miguel who watches Gabriel scream as their neighbor's dog runs towards the fireworks that he set on the ground.

Miguel always thought there was nothing going on behind those little eyes.

GymRat!Miguel who feels Gabriel slide next to him in the corner of their backyard. A place where the two of them used to do everything from hide-and-seek to sharing secrets to pretending to be superheroes.

Gabriel leans his on Miguel’s shoulder, eyes watching the small fireworks their cousins bought.

“Mig?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever get scared when you left home?”

Miguel was quiet for a second, “At first, I was. I was leaving what I knew, but once I got used to it, it was like a weight off my chest.”

The two sat for a minute, listening to their family sing and laugh.

“I’m really fucking nervous.”

“About leaving?”

“About everything,” Gabriel took a shaky breath. “I’ll be so far away. I won’t know anyone. And you…”

Miguel’s sleeve was wet.

“You won’t be there if I need you.”

Miguel turned and pull Gabriel into a hug, arms tight as he felt Gabriel cry into his shoulder.

“No tengas miedo, Gabri,” Miguel’s voice cracked as he rubbed his brother’s back. “I’ll be a call away, ok? Right there if you need me. I promise.” (Don’t be scared, Gabri.)

"Te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you.)

"Yo también te voy a extrañar." (I'm going to miss you, too.)

After a while of the two calming down and making promises to continue their weekly calls, Gabriel leans up and covers his eyes with his arm.

“I told myself I’d save my tears for the move-in day, but it’s just now hitting me how much I’m going to miss seeing your stupid face.”

Miguel laughed and thumped him across the head, “And I’m going to miss hearing your stupid laugh across the hall. But what did you do when I left?”

Gabriel turned to avoid Miguel’s face, “Ma thought I was dying or something. She kept bringing random shit that I liked to my room for three weeks because ‘Te pareces a Ígor, mijo!’” (You look like Eeyore, mijo!)

Miguel bit his cheek as he ruffled Gabriel’s hair. He still saw the little baby who followed his every move. The baby that laughed hard when he read books with a funny voice. The baby that stood up for him front of their mom when he couldn’t even stand up for himself on the playground.

The kid who stayed up with him to beat some game because their dad wouldn't buy them memory cards for the PlayStation. The kid who tried food once he saw it on Miguel’s plate. The kid who refused to go to summer camps without him.

Here he was, sitting in front of Miguel, getting ready to start a new chapter.

“Oh god, Miguel don’t start crying again. It’s gonna ruin the tour,” Gabriel groaned and dug his head into his arms.

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m sorry,” Miguel hurriedly wiped his cheeks, hot tears filled with his thoughts escaping. “You’re going to kill it in New York. By the time I get there, you’ll be so used to it that it’ll be like breathing air.”

“I hope so,” he sniffles and looks back up. “I need to impress Dana.”

“And there he is,” Miguel shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to visit.”

“Yeah. I already have some places planned for dates.”

“Smooth. That’s the Miguel in you.”

“Shaddup.”

GymRat!Miguel who calls you closer to midnight.

"How was the party?"

"It was pretty good," Miguel moved to settle further into his bed. "Gabriel was happy."

Hearing the tone in his voice, you pouted, "Are you ok, though?"

"Yeah, I'm just. I'm feeling a lot."

He felt he might cry again, thinking about his little brother in a place all by himself, thinking of his parents being empty nesters, thinking of his feelings from yesterday.

"You want to talk about it?"

Miguel shook his head, "Tomorrow."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"Thank you," Miguel smiled. "That means a lot."

GymRat!Miguel who feels better listening to you chatter until you fall asleep. His head isn't filled with so much noise and your voice is like a calm breeze.

He can't wait to see you again.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto 🩵

a/n: I was thinking of this video when I was writing Lyla talking about Kron + that smoking duck gif. I also doubt there are many nerds alive that play 2k, I just wanted Winston to play it lol. Anywho, I was going for a boho-chic vibe when I imagined Tempest (with red locs), a maximalist + art deco vibe with Lyla, and an elevated streetwear style with Winston. Winston also upgraded his prosthetic arm to mimic Link's from Tears of the Kingdom. As for Xina...we'll see! 😗

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jeankluv · 5 months ago

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But daddy I love him - Gojo Satoru [epilogue]

short series

summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

tags: +18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, unsafe sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n, pregnancy talks

words: 3,6k

notes: so here is the epilogue of this short series that was a gif to everyone that started supporting my works on this app. Finally we close the story of Duke Gojo and angel. I hope everyone enjoys it 💋

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

It had been 8 months since you and Satoru met again. And as soon as Satoru could walk again you got married, it had been a bigger wedding than you had ever imagined, after all Satoru was a duke and a close friend of the prince so it had been something normal. Thanks to the wedding you also learned that Satoru was not as hated as your parents had made you believe, in fact Satoru was extremely loved by everyone.

Regarding your parents, you know that they were stripped of their titles and all their property and sent, along with others, to a prison near the border. Satoru didn't want you to see them, apparently they had completely lost their minds and he didn't consider it safe for you.

Satoru asked you if you wanted to stay with your parents' house, and go there during the summers. But although you will love that landscape and the smell of that place, the memories of those walls were mostly painful.

But those memories had been locked in a box and kept far away. Now you were creating new memories in that place you called home. You had arrived at the Gojo residence in winter and for the first time you had admired the snow. And you also met Megumi, Satoru’s nephew. Although the relationship they both had was more of a father-son relationship, after all Satoru had adopted him and taken care of him since he was 4 years old.

In those 8 months you had managed to feel at home and feel that you belonged to the family. Rose kept telling you how happy you looked, how bright you were again. And you also felt it like that.

Satoru had kept all his promises, from a library that you could never imagine to a summer house where you could enjoy the sea breeze again.

Now summer was starting again and that only brought back memories of how last year you were on the beach reading and a boy with a mysterious smile and sharp gaze approached you. Without knowing very well that that meeting would change everything about you.

“What’s my beautiful wife doing?” You felt how Satoru left wet kisses on your shoulder.

“I was just admiring the view and thinking.” You looked at him with a shiny smile.

“Thinking about what, my love?” He looked at you with the most loving expression.

“About us, about everything that has happened in the last year and how lucky I am.” You kissed him.

“I think I’m the one who is lucky.” He said.

Satoru began to kiss your neck, closing your eyes and pushed your neck back, giving him more space so he could devour you. You could spend years, but you would still be addicted to his kisses and his caresses.

“You know this white dress you are wearing today is driving me crazy.” He said, biting your ear.

“I thought it was cute for our getaway today.” You purred with a smile on your lips.

“Oh definitely it’s cute.” He smiled. “But I bet you look cuter without it.”

You could listen to Satoru say provocative things a thousand and one times and never get used to it. Despite the time, you continued getting nervous and blushing like the first time.

“Satoru…” You put your hand on his chest, feeling his buildup muscles under your hand. “We are on the beach.”

“That makes it even more exciting.” He smirked. “But no one will come, you know that.”

“You can't be satisfied, can you?”

“I will never get enough of you, my angel.” He says, before devouring your mouth again.

Satoru laid you down on the cloth that you had brought to sit on the sand and left a trail of kisses until he reached the cloth that separates your breasts from his lips. With a wicked smile on Satoru's face, he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it down, exposing your breasts to his blue eyes.

“So beautiful.” He whispered before introducing your nipple into his mouth and beginning to devour it only as he knew how.

Your back arched and your hands went straight to his hair, where they became tangled in the white hair. With each suck you felt your pussy getting wetter and wetter. You desperately needed Satoru inside of you.

“Satoru…” You moaned. “I need you.”

Satoru separated from you and smiled when he saw your state, disheveled, swollen lips, your nipples completely red and with your legs open, inviting him to enter. Taking off his belt and pulling down his pants, you felt your body react as his cock emerged from his underwear. It was hard, you could see it, very hard.

Satoru lifted your dress and yanked your underwear off, leaving you completely exposed to him. With his hand on his cock, he placed it at your entrance and with a grunt he entered you.

You purred as you felt Satoru fill you and begin to thrust into you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel the warmth of his skin and becoming one with each other.

His warm touch made you melt under his touch. Not only that, you become more desperate for more, wanting all of him to fill you, to kiss you, to adore you with passion. And you could see his hungry eyes, his frenetic pulse and desperate touch. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The shockwaves that ran through your body, made tears of pleasure run down your cheeks and inevitably made moans escape from your throat. Which luckily for you were silenced by the noise of the waves crashing against the coast.

Satoru growled your name with each thrust, his voice rough and full of intensity. The sound sent shivers down your spine, a mix of pleasure and anticipation washing over you. His hands, large and possessive, dug into the flesh of your thighs, leaving marks you would probably see the next day.

Every movement was deliberate and powerful, the rhythm relentless and intoxicating. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his muscles as he held you, his almost desperate grip on you.

Your mind struggled to keep up with the overwhelming sensations, each one more intense than the last.

Satoru's eyes met yours, his gaze was filled with hunger and that turned you on even more. His breathing became labored, you knew you were both close, you could feel it by the way he was throbbing inside you and the way your body was reacting.

Satoru spoke your name desperately with each of his thrusts, the way he said your name made your heart race even faster, and your breathing quickened with every movement.

His hands grabbed your hips with a possessive intensity, anchoring you against the sand that was under that fabric.

“Satoru.” You breathed, your voice shaking with the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body. His lips found yours again, swallowing your cries with a searing kiss that left you both breathless.

The desperation in his thrusts grew, each one more urgent and insistent than the last. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving marks.

You could feel the spiral of pleasure tightening inside you, his every movement pushing you closer to the edge. His name was a song on your lips, a plea and a prayer.

When your climax finally hit you, it was like a wave crashing over you, sweeping you away in a torrent of bliss. Your cries of ecstasy mixed with Satoru's guttural moans as he followed you to the edge, his release a powerful, consuming force.

Panting and trembling, they held each other, the aftershocks of their passion still coursing through their bodies.

Your chest rose and fell as you felt Satoru fill you. After a few seconds, Satoru pulled out of you and lay down next to you.

“Stop taking that medicine.” You said, still feeling your voice shaky and your body trembling.

Satoru turned to look at you confused. “What?”

You sighed and adjusted your dress back to how it was. “I heard you, with the doctor.” Satoru sat down. “I know you have been taking that medicine to prevent me from getting pregnant. And I know you did it because I was weak when we got married.” You said. “But ever since coming here, I gained weight and got healthier. Satoru, I want us to have a bigger family.”

“Angel…” He held your hand.

“Megumi has been asking me for a sibling you know?” You smiled. “And I really want it.”

“Megumi has said that?”

You nodded happily. “I want Megumi to have a little brother or sister. Don’t you?”

“I…” Satoru sighed and then looked back at you. “Yeah of course I would love that, but… you know how risky pregnancies can be.” Satoru’s eyes reflected concern, agony and fear. “What if…”

“Satoru.” You tried to calm him down. “I know the risks and I know what could happen but I think I’m ready.” You smiled.

Satoru sighed. “We will talk with the doctor and we will see, alright?”

You nodded and hugged him. “I love you.”

He chuckled and smiled back. “I love you too.”

You both hugged each other until the sun started to set down and the temperature of the day started to go down. Satoru picked you up bridal style and between laughter and soft kisses he carried you to the horse to return home. It sounded good, home.

It filled your heart with a warmth that you didn't know you could feel and a longing to return that you had never experienced. Normally you would extend your readings on the beach until the last ray of sunlight disappeared and the stars began to shine.

But at the Gojo residence, when you had to go out to attend to matters like the Duchess you were, you returned home with Satoru, with Megumi, who you could say had become almost like your own son, with Rose, Nanami and the household employees, who had given you affection and love from the first moment.

Entering the large hall you were greeted by several of the employees, including Rose, who had had a special glow for some time and you both knew what it meant.

“Ask the doctor to come tomorrow.” You heard Satoru speak.

“Duchess.” Rose bowed, you were still not used to that title and it still felt weird.

“Rose.” You smiled. “Did Megumi have his dinner?”

She shook her head. “He is waiting for both of you to have dinner together.”

You looked over to Satoru and this one smiled at you. “Let’s have dinner.” He held your hand.

You both walked to the dining room where you found Megumi concentrating on reading a book. Satoru looked at you and you gave him a warm smile.

“Gumi.” You called out to him and he quickly looked up from him to look at you both.

“Mom.” He put the book aside and ran over to you to hug your legs.

You still weren't used to Megumi calling you mom, the first time she said it you were completely paralyzed, not knowing how to respond or act, Megumi noticed that and regretted it but you told him that he did want to call you mom and then you would be very happy. And since then he had called you mom. On the other hand, Satoru was offended, since for years he had been trying to get Megumi to stop calling him simply Gojo, but the little boy didn't want to.

“I’m still offended that you don’t even call me uncle.” Satoru murmured.

You chuckled looking at Megumi. “Just give him time, right Gumi?” Megumi simply hide his face on your dress.

“A little bird told me that you want a brother or sister. But that won’t happen until you call me uncle.” Satoru challenged him and Megumi turned his face away from your dress and looked at him offended.

“Not fair.” He said.

“It is not.” Satoru smirked. “You just have to call me from now on uncle and you might have a sibling.”

“Satoru… you can not do that.” You said to him.

“Why not?” He looked at you with puppy eyes.

“He is a kid, give him time.” You said.

“Dad…”

“Yeah but why call me Gojo when…” Satoru paused and looked at Megumi. “What?”

“I’m not repeating myself.” Megumi walked away.

“Angel, did he just?”

“Yeah.” You smiled at him and noticed how Satoru was getting emotional. “Satoru…”

“Sorry, I just.” He shook his head. “I love you Gumi.” He shouted.

Megumi didn’t turn to look at him or say anything, but you knew that he was just embarrassed. Megumi opened out at you a few days after calling you mom from the first time about how he wanted to call Satoru dad but he was beyond embarrassed to do it. You found that heartwarming and adorable and seeing how they both reacted filled your heart with happiness and love.

The evening passed quickly between laughter, light conversations and Satoru's jokes and Megumi's protests for Satoru to leave him alone. You knew Satoru wasn't going to let go of the fact that Megumi called him dad and you felt a little sorry for him but it was fun to see his pout. Those new memories that you were creating with those new people that you didn't know a year ago filled your entire heart.

The next day the light passed through the curtains of your room, making you open your eyes to find the bed empty and the sheets cold, indicating that Satoru had woken up long before you. With your hips a little sore after your sex session last night, you got up to get ready to meet the doctor on that sunny morning with clear skies. Rose, like every morning I come into your room and help you.

Once ready, you left your bedroom and began to walk through the Gojo family's large house, still not getting used to all the wealth that you saw when you walked through the wide hallways, with their high ceilings and walls covered in ancestral portraits. .

Approaching the entrance you watched as Satoru walked near the large windows, his expression was a mix of concern and determination. Approaching him, you held his hand and gave him a comforting look, seeking for his agitated soul to relax under your touch.

The heavy entrance doors creaked open and the family doctor entered, whose presence attracted attention. Dr. Stone was a middle-aged man, with a kind but serious demeanor.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo.” Dr. Stone greeted with a respectful nod. His voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. “I trust you're both okay.”

“Good morning, Dr. Stone.” Satoru responded, his voice was firm despite the tension. “Thanks for coming.”

Walking down a hallway, the three of you entered an office where you could have a more private conversation. The doctor sat across from you, opened his case, and arranged his instruments with practiced precision. “So what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

You both looked at each other and Satoru took a breath. “We want to try to have a child.” You squeezed his hand. “And we wanted to know if my wife, well, if she doesn't run any significant risk by getting pregnant.”

Dr. Stone nodded and began his examination with a gentle, professional touch. After a few minutes he looked at you both and smiled. “There are certain risks, though.” He said he. “With careful monitoring and appropriate measures, I believe a successful pregnancy is within reach. It will require diligence and caution, but I am confident we can manage any complications that may arise.”

Satoru, who had been watching intently, let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. “Thank you, Dr. Stone.” He said with relief. “We appreciate his guidance and support.”

The doctor agreed, with an expression of understanding and empathy. “It is my duty and honor to serve this family. We will proceed with care.”

With a final bow, the doctor departs, leaving you and Satoru to digest the information. The room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, the tension dissipating like morning mist under the heat of the sun.

“Satoru...” You whispered looking at his expression.

But all the doubts you might have dissipated when you saw how Satoru smiled widely at you. "We could start now, don't you think?"

You rolled your eyes. “Always so needy”

Satoru's eyes, electric and searing, met yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He closed the distance between you in the blink of an eye, and taking hold of your face, he pulled you into a passionate kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire and passion, wanting to claim your lips as his alone.

The kiss deepened, your tongues tangled in a heated dance, each moment fanning the flames of desire and igniting something fervent inside you. His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to him, the heat of his body seeping through the layers of your spring dress. You could feel the hard lines of his muscles, his need for you as palpable as yours.

Without breaking the kiss, Satoru's hands began to work on the zippers of your dress. The fabric gave way under his skillful fingers, sliding down your shoulders until it reached your waist. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as he collided with your bare skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his touch as he explored your skin.

With a grunt, Satoru pushed aside the objects cluttering the desk. His strength and urgency left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as he lifted you off the desk.

You moaned softly as his lips moved to your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands roamed your body, hiking up your dress until he bunched around your waist, exposing your legs. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure through you, your body arching against his in an invitation for him to continue.

Satoru's fingers found the hem of your underwear, teasing the delicate fabric before sending it somewhere in the room. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his back as you writhed in pleasure, each touch bringing you closer to the edge.

With a final, desperate kiss, Satoru pulled away just enough to throw off his own clothes. Seeing him, naked and magnificent before you, made your heart skip a beat. He moved between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he aligned himself with you, his eyes locked on yours with a burning intensity.

“You ready?” He whispered, full of need.

You could only nod, your breathing ragged as anticipation tightened within you. Satoru's lips captured yours in a searing kiss as he thrust into you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, an avalanche of pleasure that made you arch against him, your moans mixing with his moans of satisfaction.

He set a rhythm that was both tender and demanding, each movement taking you higher, the friction of his body against yours igniting sparks of ecstasy. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over you. His name was a breathless plea on your lips, a mantra of desire and need.

“Oh my lovely angel.” He said against your ear. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my baby.” You moaned loudly feeling how he grew bigger inside of you.

“Satoru.” Your body moved closer to him, wanting to be touch.

“So needy, my baby.” He said. “You want that right?” You bite your lips as he started to bite the skin of your neck. “You want me to put a baby in you huh?”

“Yes!” You moaned. “Satoru!”

Satoru's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. With one last thrust your back arched and you felt Satoru come completely inside you. The room that just a few minutes ago had been filled with the sound of your voices agonizing from pleasure and your skin colliding, had now been plunged into a sea of silence that was only interrupted by the soft sound of your breaths mixing, while you searched for it to return to normal.

“You know I love you?” He whispered against your now sweaty skin.

You smiled and touched his hair with love. “And I love you too.” You kissed his hair. “Thank you…”

“For what?” He looked at you with his eyes full of curiosity.

“For that day, for coming to me while reading and making me fall in love with you, for everything Satoru.” You smiled.

He shook his head and cupped your face with cherish and love. “I should be the one thanking you angel.” He smiled. “You don’t know how you change my life. I love you so much.”

And both of your lips connected in a sweet kiss full of love, understanding and commitment for one another. You were grateful for going out that day to read on the beach, for looking at those blue eyes, for going out to the back garden despite the warnings, for your heart, your body and your soul reacting to him. You were grateful that man was yours and you were hers.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Extra scene

You watched as Satoru whipped his tears away and Megumi looked at him with a weird expression, you wanted to laugh about the scene but your body was too exhausted to make a single movement, even for a simple laugh.

“You are going to scare her with that face.” Megumi said.

Satoru, still crying, shook his head. “Gumi, I can't help it. Look at your sister, she is so small.”

Megumi looked at her and nodded in agreement. “She is cute. Thankfully she looks like mom and not you.”

Satoru gasped offended and looked at you. “Did you hear that?” You hummed in response and Satoru walked towards you. “How are you feeling, my angel?” He sat down next to you.

“A bit tired.” You smiled. “But… she is finally here with us.”

“She is.” Satoru looked over to where your newborn baby girl was. “You did a great job.” He held your hand. “Thank you.”

Heavily you approached him and kissed him. “Thanks to you Satoru. I love you."

Satoru smiled. “How lucky I am that a woman as amazing as you wants to spend the rest of her life with me. I love you too my angel.” He whispered and kissed you again.

The kiss was interrupted by some small cries and you both smiled, realizing the new stage that awaited you.

Final note: thank you for the love and support ❤️ I have another Gojo fic called Birdie if you want to check it out, also a new Geto fic called The forgotten boy

🏷️: @catobsessedlady @zoeyflower @lavender-hvze @slashersgirlypop @tinydonkeysforlife @oddball08 @tttttttf @crybabytoru @fccxxxcvvx @augustine13028 @alwaysfreakingout @storacy

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nova-is-a-writer-now · 4 months ago

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Hidden Embers

Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.

Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.

A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)

Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues

It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.

You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.”

God forbid.

Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles.

You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.

None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?

Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words.

And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you.

You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque.

Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win.

At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.

Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.

"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"

That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him.

You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.

Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens.

Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare.

“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees”

Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into.

“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved. I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels.

The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect.

That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?

You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.

“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”

“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.”

It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable.

Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.

Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill.

“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone.

He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.”

Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong.

“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts.

“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.”

“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.

You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.”

You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon.

First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words.

He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.

Yeah, I think you might

You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way.

You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.

She notices as much. “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?”

You brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?”

She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.”

The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.

The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump.

“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow

Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed.

You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you.

“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.

The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.”

You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”

He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”

You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”

More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.

Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside.

It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out.

He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.”

With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance.

And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head.

#joel miller #joel x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou joel #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #Hidden embers

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leilakisakabiri · 1 year ago

Note

I have a request for Pedri, maybe a childhood friends to lovers ? 😩 like they are both in love with each other but are oblivious so Gavi makes a plan to get them together by pretending to be interested in the reader (idk if that made sense)

The Promises We Keep (Pedri)

Summary: You and Pedri grew up together until he got selected to play for Barcelona. He left when you were sixteen and you hadn’t seen him since, till a fateful day in summer brought you a bright-eyed midfielder.

Warning(s): Angst. Sensitive topics such as death, addiction, and feelings of hopelessness.

A/N: Guys this is a long one. Thank you so much for the request, I made it slightly different but hopefully you still like it! This one took on a life of its own and was so fun to write. Feel free to send requests!

Word Count: 9.4k+

August 11th.

That was the first time you had met Pedri. On the brink of ten, eyes alight with wonder and eagerness, as you stood on your tippy toes, leaning over the counter to point out the cake specials.

It was your first day working at the bakery that your family owned. After much badgering and pleading, your grandmother had promised you that you could help out at the bakery. You had been ecstatic, rolling up your sleeves, getting ready to frost the cakes like you had seen your abuela and mother do countless times before. Your excitement, however, was short-lived when your mother placed her hands on your shoulders, redirecting you away from the shiny kitchen filled with sugary delights and to the long counter facing the dining area.

“Mamà, No! I want to bake cakes with you!” You pleaded, attempting to free yourself from her grasp.

She smiled, “Not yet princessa. First, you have to learn to take the orders.”

“Ok after?”

She nodded her head, helping you on the stool that made you tall enough to finally look over the counter, “Yes, but first let’s learn how to do this.”

She explained all the functions of the cash register to you, and you nodded, taking it all in.

You knew the menu by heart, having grown up in the bakery and heard your grandmother and mother repeat the spiel countless times to customers.

Your excitement came back in full swing when she stepped away and walked back into the kitchen.

You were in charge out here.

You felt giddy as you waited for your first customer.

Would they want a cake? Or maybe a pastry? Ooh or maybe some tea? You had never started the tea kettle by yourself before.

You smiled when you heard the door jiggle, a customer entering, “Hi Sir! How can I help you?”

“Would you like to order a cake? Or if you don’t like cakes we also have-”

The man cut you off, pulling a map from his pocket, “I’m lost can you help me? I want to go here.” He said, pointing to the other side of the map from where you were.

You sighed, “Yes, you have to take the train, line 2. That will take you here,” You said pointing to a station on the map, “And then it’s just a 5-minute walk.”

“Oh sir would you like-“ You began to ask him as he thanked you, but cut yourself off when the door shut behind him.

You huffed.

So much for your first customer.

You leaned on the counter waiting for someone else to come in.

It was a Tuesday afternoon in summer, and most people only came to the bakery early in the morning on the way to work, or after work to collect their cakes or drink their daily tea. The weekdays were slow for in-store business, but it was always packed to the brim on weekends with tourists hoping to discover local culture and families who spent the day at the nearby beach.

You were so lost in thought that you completely missed the boy standing in front of you.

“Umm excuse me?”

You looked down at the sudden noise, making eye contact with a brown-haired boy with a frown on his face. He couldn’t have been that much older than you.

“Hi sorry! How can I help you?” You asked, your voice taking on the cheery note that your mothers always did when speaking with customers.

“I said I want to buy a cake.”

You squinted your eyes at the boy, he looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Okay, what kind of cake?”

“A birthday cake.” The boy huffed out, fidgeting with the cash in his hand.

You quickly grew annoyed at his attitude; it wasn’t your fault you hadn’t seen him. He was barely taller than the counter.

“Ok here’s the cake options.” You said, showing him a pamphlet with all the options listed.

“That one.” He said pointing to the green cake decorated with cars.

You nodded, ringing him up, “Ok it’s $35.”

The boy handed you the cash and you took your time double-counting the money to make sure everything was there.

You wanted to make sure you did your job perfectly.

“Aren’t you a little young to make a cake? Do you even know how to count?” He asked.

You stopped counting and looked at him, annoyance plastered across your face, you knew your mother would not condone you acting like this to a customer, but you couldn’t help it, “Aren’t you a little young to order a cake?”

“It’s for my brother!” The boy exclaimed.

“Ok… Pedro.” You spoke seeing his name on the order, “You can pick it up tomorrow at 5 pm.”

He gawked at you, “to-tommorow?” But I need it by tonight!”

You paid him no mind, “Well that’s how it works. You should have ordered sooner.”

He dug around in his pocket before pulling out some change, “What if I gave you this, would that change your mind?”

You looked at him unimpressed, “That’s $5.”

“It’s all I have! Please it’s my brother’s birthday today and I accidentally ruined the cake!” He was beginning to plead, and you couldn’t help but feel pleased now that the tables had turned.

“How did you ruin the cake?” You asked, not being able to contain your curiosity.

“I was playing football in the house, even though my mom always says I can’t play it inside, but it was too hot outside so I-“ You stopped listening to his rambling too focused on what he said.

He played football.

“Are you good?” You cut him off.

He grinned at your question, “Of course! I’m the best in my school!”

You smiled at him, a plan forming in your head, “Okay I’ll move the cake up the queue, so it’s done faster, but you have to teach me to play football.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Why do you want to learn?”

“I want to be on the girl’s team. I always wanted to learn but my mom never let me play with the neighborhood kids because I was the only girl.”

He thought about your proposition, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought it over, “Won’t she care now?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’ll be a secret. Duh!”

He stared at you for a second longer before shrugging his shoulders, “Okay. But I get to set when we meet.”

You nodded, “Okay, come back to the bakery at 5 pm today and I’ll give you the cake and then you can tell me when we can play.”

He gave you a nod before exiting the store, leaving you nervous about how you were going to pull this off and excited about finally being able to play the game you had wanted to learn for years.

He came back to collect his cake later that day, and the next day marked your first official ‘training session’ as he liked to call them. You would meet him every other day at 6 pm on the empty football fields near the edge of your neighborhood, after school and your shift at the bakery.

You had told your family that you had made a friend, Marcy, and that the two of you would go biking every other day to explore all the different parts of the city.

Those training sessions soon turned into staying past ‘practice time’ to eat ice cream from the stand next to his house. Those then turned into day trips to the beach and exploring the random shops littered across the boardwalk.

Eventually, the angry boy that had turned up at your family’s bakery became your best friend, and when the two of you ended up at the same secondary school your bond only deepened, and soon you were spending every lunch period with him.

Now at 16, you and Pedro had long been football practice partners and best friends. Your family knew him well enough now, and you knew his like the back of your hand.

You had been lying on your floor, feet up, staring at the ceiling when Pedro had walked in.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, staring at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “Jeez Pedro you’re so judgy. I’m bored, come lay.”

He huffed, but came to lie next to you anyways, feet knocking into yours as he tried to get them up, “You were supposed to meet me 10 minutes ago.”

You laughed, “Oh shit sorry. I just finished at the bakery.”

He nodded, turning to face you, voice taking on a softer tone, “How’s your abuela?”

You took in a breath, still not used to talking about it, “She’s better, still not talking though.”

Your grandmother had suffered a stroke two weeks ago when she was working late one night preparing a cake for one of her most beloved customers.

No one had found her for nearly 15 minutes after she had hidden herself in the back kitchen, away from your mother and tia getting ready for bed upstairs.

Since then, the bakery had flipped on its head, your whole family reeling in the loss of your grandmother, the woman who was always talking, the one who loved sharing stories and was patient enough to explain things as many times as you needed without fail, now being silenced to a life without the ability to share her ideas. Business had been booming right before your grandmother’s accident, but since then the demand had been too high to meet the supply, and slowly the customers were dwindling down. Your grandmother was the glue holding the bakery together, without her everything was falling apart, and your family was left picking up the pieces.

“I’m sorry.” Pedro spoke.

You shrugged it off, pretending it wasn’t ripping you apart from the inside out, “It’s fine. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Ok, well I heard back from the football scout.” He said changing the subject.

You shot up, eyes widening with excitement, “Oh my god! What did he say?”

You made eye contact with him, seeing the hesitation in his eyes, “What? Did something happen?”

He shook his head slowly, “No nothing like that.”

“Okay then…” You pressed, anxious to hear what happened.

“I got in.”

You screamed, tackling Pedro into a hug, sending you back to the ground. You kept your arms wrapped around him as you slid off his body, legs splayed across his, “That’s incredible! I knew you could do it, you’re amazing!”

He laughed at your affection, hand around your waist tugging you closer to him, “Thanks linda.”

“Why aren’t you as excited as me?” You asked, surprised at the fact he wasn’t screaming and jumping around with you.

“Uh- well the uhm- uh- joder I don’t- It’s in Barcelona.” He finally admitted.

Your hand slid off his shoulders and you looked at him in disbelief.

You were torn, on one hand, you were ecstatic for him, you knew he had been dreaming about this since he was practically born, long before he even met you. You also knew he was immensely talented, and that he deserved to be able to share his love for football with the world. However, you would be lying if you said you were only happy for him because there was a small part of you that couldn’t grasp the concept of him leaving, of not being able to graduate together like you always promised you would, or having no more summers filled with football, sugary delights, and pretending to be tourists.

He was your best friend, you told him everything, you had spent numerous nights spilling your souls to each other, saying any and everything on your mind. You knew that he still slept with a nightlight on at thirteen because he had seen Paranormal Activity and it has apparently “changed the trajectory of his life”. For every little insignificant moment of your life, he was there, like when you tripped and chipped your tooth in Mrs. Fernandez’s 8th grade history class, he was there helping you up after laughing so hard he had tears streaming down the sides of his face. But now, for bigger life events, like graduation, or university, he was going to be gone, hundreds of miles away.

“Are you going to say something?” He was nervous, chewing on his lip anxiously as he waited for your response.

You didn’t know what to say.

This was his dream; it would be too selfish to say anything to jeopardize that. So even though you felt a tiny skip in your heart every time he looked at you with those shining brown eyes and lopsided grin, you pulled back, “You should go.”

He took a deep breath staring at you so intently you were beginning to wonder if your face was giving you away, the words please don’t go I need you plastered across your forehead in red ink.

“You sure?” He asked again.

You avoided his eyes, not being able to handle the thought of your life changing so drastically in a matter of days, “Pedro this is your dream. You’ve wanted to play for Barcelona since you were little, you have to take it. This could be your one chance, you can’t miss out.”

“But what about what I’ll miss out on here?”

You sighed, “What lil ole’ me?” Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you come visit. Besides I have other friends y’know?” You joked, finally looking at him.

His eyes shined so intensely with emotion that you had to quickly look away so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, a lump already beginning to form in your throat.

“So, when do you leave?”

“Next week.”

You let out a short laugh, “Oh, wow. That’s so soon.”

You heard him begin to talk but cut him off, feeling bad about how negative you sounded, “You’ll be playing for the A team in no time then. Can’t believe I’m friends with a celebrity.”

He smiled, bringing you up with him as he sat up, tilting your chin to make you look at him, “I’ll miss you.”

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to brush his hair away from his face before pinching his cheek playfully, “I’ll miss you too linda. But Barcelona’s only a plane ride away.”

He groaned hearing the nickname, “Ugh Y/n how many times have I told you to stop calling me that.”

You giggled, enjoying making him mad, “Oh c’mon you know you love it.”

You glanced at the time, seeing it was a quarter past nine, “Oh shit, I forgot to close the bakery.” You said rushing to stand up.

He walked with you downstairs into the shop, “Isn’t your mom closing tonight?”

You shook your head, “She said she was going to see abuela early tonight since it’s her birthday. She told me to close it when she left, but I forgot.”

“Ok well, I should probably go then. See you tomorrow?”

You agreed, saying goodbye, watching him leave as you locked up.

He was halfway down the dimly lit street when he suddenly spun around,

“I’ll come visit you, I promise!” He shouted, walking backwards as he pointed at you with an annoyingly perfect grin.

“Yah, yah, whatever you say.” You teased, watching as his figure disappeared around the bend onto the main road.

You already had tears in your eyes when you shut the door. You cursed yourself for being so emotional lately, the news of your abuela, and now this was taking its toll on you.

You wanted to feel happy for him, you really did, but you felt like he was going at the worst possible time. Everything in your life was falling apart, while his was falling into place. You didn’t want to be the anchor weighing him down.

You were lost in your thoughts as you closed the store in a daze, watching as the open light flickered off encompassing you in darkness.

The next few days went by in a blur, days spent studying at school and nights spent locked away in the bakery, picking up extra shifts to accommodate the ever-growing task list. Pedro would sneak into the kitchen every evening, sneakily taking bites of the frosting when your back was turned with his fingers as he told you about his day and everything he planned to do when he got to Barcelona.

Eventually, the day you had almost forgotten about came. It was a Saturday morning, the weather was chilly for spring, clouds of rolling gray covering the sun, matching your mood perfectly.

You were standing at the train station with Pedro’s entire family saying goodbye.

“I know you’re shit at texting, so you have to promise to at least write me a letter every month, so I know what you’re up to.” Pedro said, hands going around you as he wrapped you in a hug.

“Letter? What is this eighteen century London?” You weakly joked, head resting on his shoulder.

“Ok fine not letter’s maybe emails? I know the cell service is bad in your neighborhood.”

You shoved him playfully, “Oi. Sorry not all of us are world class athletes and can afford to live in nice areas.”

He laughed, pulling you back into his arms, “I’m kidding, obviously. I love your little shack.”

You gasped, offended, swatting his shoulder, “I live in a house Pedro. A 2 floor house, not a shack.”

He chuckled above you, resting his chin on your head as he rocked your bodies back and forth, giving you one last squeeze, “Oh how I’m going to miss making fun of you.”

You glared at him, slipping him the finger when his mother wasn’t looking.

He boarded the train, looking back one more time as he waved.

You gave him a watery smile, not being able to hold back your emotions, holding hands with his mother as you watched him start the journey in front of him.

Then he was gone.

A few months had passed since then, and still not a single visit from Pedro, or Pedri as he went by now. He had planned to come for graduation but had a last-minute event that he couldn’t cancel. Then he was supposed to come for your birthday but missed it because he was finally offered playing time.

Each time he missed something, you felt a piece of your childhood chip away, like you were slowly losing the younger version of yourself that was all starry-eyed, putting all her trust in pinky promises and boys with twinkling brown eyes and dimples.

The immense sadness you had first felt when Pedri left had slowly turned into happiness once you learned just how much he was enjoying his time in Barcelona, and how good it felt to be able to play professionally and with other people who were just as passionate as him.

You still talked to him occasionally on Facetime, whenever both of your busy schedules allowed time, but your monthly letters were still going strong.

While you had once shitted on the prospect of making handwritten letters for each other, it has soon provided a sense of comfort for you. Reading his words, about his life, in his handwriting, written specifically for you, made you feel closer to him than you had in months. If you really stared at the words, you could almost make out his voice whispering them to you as he sat with you downstairs in the kitchen annoying you as you prepared the pastries.

You still saw his family quite a bit, bringing them sweets when you heard that Pedri’s older brother had graduated from university.

His mother had tried to convince you to go to Barcelona with them, but you had refused, not able to leave the bakery by itself, or your mother.

Since your grandmother’s stroke, your mother had become the shell of the woman she once was. No longer was she overly optimistic, or especially cheery in the morning when she opened the shop, stopping to ask every customer how they were, thanking them for their business. Now, she sat on a stool at the counter, routinized to a shift of taking orders, handing out receipts, and making the same four teas. The love that she had for baking was gone.

She went through her days in rehearsed speeches and solitude, her only outing being to visit your abuela every night.

Since her attack, your abuela’s health had severely diminished. While in the first weeks following the accident, she had made some process, being able to pronounce syllables and say names, she regressed significantly as winter approached, blanketing the skies with bleak gray’s, turning the ground bitter and the wind chilly.

It was the second Friday of the New Year when you received the call. You were in the middle of your online university class when you heard a shattering noise, followed by a wail.

You shot out of your seat, shaky hands slamming the computer shut as you raced towards the front of the store.

You found your mother slumped on the floor, sobbing into her hands, fragments of broken glass surrounding her small frame.

Onlookers watched as you slowly approached, reaching out a comforting hand before helping her up and guiding her to the back, where she could at least mourn in peace.

She didn’t say anything, but you already knew.

You led her into the back office, sliding the never-ending stack of bills off the chair, sitting her down, “Mamà, lo siento, eres muy valiente.” Mama, I’m sorry, you are so brave.

Her shaking hands grasped yours tightly as she tried to collect herself, looking up at you with hauntingly vacant red-rimmed eyes.

Your heart broke at the sight, your mother was the strongest person you had ever met, she was fiercely loving, and always held her head high, even when your father abandoned the both of you, even when she would get made fun of for her heavy Spanish accent, she never said anything, remaining perfectly poised.

Now that charade had been lifted, and you were beginning to realize that all those years spent thinking she was super women you had been wrong, she wasn’t, she was human, just like everyone else, she too cried, and wondered if she could have done things differently, but this was the first time she had ever been vulnerable enough to show you that side of herself.

“Lo siento princessa, te merces algo major. No he sido justo contigo.” She said, her voice frail and exhausted. I’m sorry princess, you deserve better. I haven’t been fair to you.

You shook your head, kneeling and hugging her around the waist like you did when you were nine, “No hat problema mamà. Estoy aqui para ti.” No problem, Mama. I’m here for you.

She smiled at you through her tears, fingers stroking your hair lovingly, “Mi niña.”

You hugged her harder, wishing you could take her pain away. You would give anything to see the color return to her face or watch her dull eyes fill with warmth once more.

Your life changed bit by bit after that. Each day it twisted into something more unrecognizable, until the joys of childhood seemed so far behind you, and the thought of your best friend no longer crossed your mind every day.

After the death of your grandmother, you and your mother had been thrown headfirst into the upkeep of the bakery. While you once had your tia to help when things got extra busy, she too moved, following her husband to the States. That left just you, your still grieving mother, and a growing stack of unpaid bills.

Every day felt like a repetition of the previous. Each morning you would wake up at 5 am, prepare the dishes for the next day, wake your mother up at 7 am when your classes officially began, half listening to lectures while working the cash register, and then at 5 pm you would take over baking when Meera, the sweet girl who lived across the street would have her shift, managing the front of the store. Finally, when your mother had left to visit your grandmother’s grave you would close the shop, making sure to leave a light on for when she came home in the early hours of the morning.

While she tried to be better for you, she still suffered adjusting to a new normal with your grandmother. Your grandmother had been a rock to her when she was going through the issues with your father and was always there to support her no matter what. Your mother threw herself into the business and not much else, these days she was just a shadow of her former self, quietly gliding past, doing everything with half the effort.

Between balancing your personal life, school, and the bakery, the thought of writing back to Pedri had completely slipped your mind.

It had been so long since the two of you had last seen each other, and you didn’t feel like the same girl who waved goodbye to him that Saturday morning at the station.

Since now and then your childhood had abruptly ended, joining your grandmother in the grave, and you had been thrown headfirst into adulthood, which consisted of stressing, overworking, and pleading with the electric company to keep the lights on another day.

All you had around you was things dragging you down, and you hated the thought of adding Pedri to the mix. Linda Pedri who always made you laugh with the weirdest jokes, and always encouraged you to follow your dreams. If only he could see you now you thought.

The letters that had been sent between the two of you had dwindled over time, with a new letter every month, going to 3 months, and now over 6 months. You were to blame for that, Pedri had written to you every month, just as he promised, but the worse things got for you, the better they seemed to be for him, and you didn’t want to say anything to mess that up for him.

He didn’t even know about your grandmother passing away.

His brother had moved to the States following his graduation and his parents spent so much time traveling between Barcelona and the US that they were rarely around anymore.

One of the last times he sent you a letter was 3 months ago, letting you know that he had been selected to be part of the Men’s World Cup team representing your country. You had been over the moon for him, jumping up and down, celebrating in your bedroom after you had received the news. You had been desperate to write back, letting him know how proud you were when your mother had walked past your room, the stench of alcohol radiating off her body.

You froze mid-sentence, twisting in your chair to watch her stumble into the bedroom.

You sighed; it was 3 pm.

All the things you wanted to say to him suddenly seemed too insignificant, what good news did you have to share with him? That you got accepted to your dream college but couldn’t go because your mother was unstable? Or that every day you woke up wishing you were ten again, free of stress, and playing football with him on the uneven field next to the supermarket?

There was no easy way to say it, and frankly, you were ashamed of the life you had been living. You wanted him to remember you as the funny girl who loved all that life had to offer and went to bed dreaming of the future.

So instead of replying you crumbled up the paper and tossed it in the trash.

You could love him, but maybe from afar was best.

He sent you one more letter after that asking why you hadn’t responded but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. So, you ignored it.

The next month a letter never came. You told yourself the sinking feeling you felt in your chest was just reality setting in.

You carried on with life but made sure to keep an eye on him whenever you could. You watched him win the golden boy award, fingers itching to send him a congratulations text, or a I knew you could do it, but your hands always hovered over the send button for a second too long.

The change you had been looking for came in the form of an seventeen-year-old, wide-eyed, brown-haired midfielder.

It was nearing the beginning of the summer season when the influx of tourists and long days would hit, you were in the back, as usual, preparing in advance. You had learned the hard way last summer what would happen if you made orders on a day-to-day basis.

You heard the bell above the door jingle and made your way to the front, a smile adorning your face, “Hi welcome. What can I get started for you today?”

There was a teenage boy standing across from you, mouth open but no words coming out.

You stared at him with a confused look, “Hello?”

He closed his mouth abruptly before words started spilling out, “Oh my god I can’t believe it’s actually you. You look so different in the photos.”

Now you were really confused.

“I’m sorry do I know you?” You asked, trying to remember if he was one of your classmates from secondary school.

He shook his head, “No sorry. I’m Gavi, I’m a friend of-“

“Pedro’s.” You finished his sentence, saying his name for the first time in what felt like years.

The boy looked at you stunned, “Yeah how did you know?”

You sighed, playing with your sleeve, “He always talked about you in his letters. Pablo right?”

The boy nodded excitedly, coming closer, “That’s actually why I’m here. I saw the letters. Happy Birthday by the way.”

You looked back at him stunned, “How did you-“

“Pedri has today marked on his calendar, and when I saw the open letters on his desk, I put two and two together.”

You couldn’t help the blush that took over your face, it had been so long since you had thought of Pedri and how he made you feel, but it seemed just a visit from his friend was bringing them all back to the surface.

Gavi noticed your red cheeks, “Awh where you guys in love?”

You choked on your spit, “What? No way! We were just friends!” You sputtered out, the blush only deepening.

Gavi laughed, “Funny Pedri said the same thing.”

You laughed nervously, unsure what he was implying.

“Anyways I’m here to bring you back to Barcelona to surprise Pedri.”

Your eyes widened at the thought, and you shrunk back, “What? I can’t go with you.”

“Well, why not?” He questioned.

“I uh- I have to take care of the bakery, I can’t just leave.” You relented, not wanting to tell him everything.

You had just met him 5 minutes ago for Gods’ sake.

“Well, don’t you have family that can run it while you’re gone? Pedri said it was family run.”

“No. I don’t.” You said defensively.

“Plus, I haven’t talked to him in months. I don’t even think he remembers me.” You continued.

Gavi let out a laugh, “That’s bullshit! I could never get him to shut up about you. Every morning it was Y/n this, Y/n that, ooh do you think Y/n would like this? It was like his favorite activity was talking about you. But then a while ago I just stopped hearing your name and I started to wonder why. So, I did some digging, and I found the notes.” He explained, hands gesturing wildly as he retold the events.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he was quick to defend himself.

“Ok well not digging, I found the letters this morning on the desk, they were basically asking to be opened, and when I noticed that they stopped coming right around when Pedri started to act more closed off I knew you had something to do with it. So, I booked the first flight here, and now here I am.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his story. He waited for you to say something but you were too in your head. Pedri had been acting differently? Had you indirectly been affecting him negatively? Even when you went out of your way to avoid bringing him down you couldn’t help it. It felt like every higher power was working against you. Reminding you that you were no good for him, he was a gifted player who deserved all that life had to offer, and you were just an overworked, barely passing-by baker.

“He’s been acting different?” You spoke, voice soft as you tried to keep your thoughts locked away.

“Why’d you stop writing Y/n?”

You glanced up at Gavi seeing him already staring at you with sincere eyes, “Why do you even care?” You huffed moving away from the counter, putting space in between the two of you.

He only moved closer, leaning over the counter, staring directly at you, “I know the Y/n I heard about in stories and saw in pictures and she’s much different than the person standing in front of me. I just want to know why you pushed him away. I just want to know what happened.”

Your bottom lip quivered as you looked at him, every word he spoke felt like a sledgehammer to your heart, because you knew it was true, in trying to hold your family together, you were letting go of yourself.

You felt your eyes fill with water in spite of yourself, and you quickly glanced around the bakery, only seeing an old couple hidden away behind an alcove.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, saying the words you had never uttered out loud before, “My grandmother died, and my mother’s an alcoholic. I’m all she has.”

You opened your eyes to see Gavi looking at you with a sad expression, probably feeling pity for what a shitty hand life had dealt you.

“I know this doesn’t change anything but I’m sorry.”

You accepted his apology, “Thanks.”

It was quiet after that, the hum of the tea kettle in the background and the chatter of the couple in the corner being the only noise.

Finally, Gavi spoke, “Does Pedri know?”

You shook your head softly, “No, and I don’t want him to. I don’t want to burden him with my problems.”

“He’s your best friend. Why won't you tell him?” He exclaimed.

“Because I know the second he hears he’ll drop everything and come, and I can’t be responsible for what will happen if he does. He’s dreamed of the life he’s living for years, I won’t take that away from him, no matter what.” You argued, voice stern.

Gavi was silent, taking in your words, “You’re a good friend.”

You let out a small grin, “I’m the best.”

He smiled, “At least come see him. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

You groaned, “Gavi did you not just hear a word I said? I can’t leave the bakery. I’m like a prisoner stuck in a world filled with raspberry pastries and buttercream frosting.”

Gavi laughed, “Pedri told me you were funny. I kinda see it now.”

You gave him a playful glare.

“No but seriously, what do I need to do to convince you to come? You’re telling me you don’t miss him at all?”

You stared at him, “Gavi no offense but I don’t want to get all mushy gushy with you.”

“I won’t tell. Pinky promise.” He held out his finger, wagging it around till you took it.

You laughed at the silly notion remembering the times when pinky promises were the end all be all, “Ok you better not be crossing your fingers behind your back!” You pointed out.

He held out his other hand, shoving it in your face as you hit it away, “I’m not see!”

“Fine. I believe you.”

“Ok sooo…”

“So?” You asked.

“Oh my god Y/n spill your soul to me. I have to know.”

You giggled at his over-dramatization, “Ok, well uhm of course I miss Pedri. He was my best friend, and I wish he was still around, but I’d much rather him be happy without me than sad with me.”

“But he would be even more happy if you were with him.”

“I don’t know about that. If he saw me right now I don’t even think he would recognize me. I’ve changed a lot since we were last together.”

“But everyone changes. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the new you even more.”

“Love? Who said anything about love?” You asked intrigued.

Gavi slapped a hand over his mouth, “I’ve said too much.”

Now you were curious, “No Gavi c’mon you can tell me. We’re friends.” You coaxed, trying to get him to cave.

He looked like he was really thinking about it before he gave in, “Don’t tell anyone, but I think Pedri was in love with you.”

You felt like the ground had just been pulled away from underneath you, earth’s gravitational axis shifting, sending you toppling over the edge of a cliff,

“What? Did he tell you that?” You asked breathlessly.

Gavi chewed on his lip, “Well not in so many words, just more in his actions. Like I said when he first met him all he did was talk about you, we all thought you were his secret girlfriend that he was hiding away somewhere in the islands. We obviously didn’t know the extent of it then. But then he started pulling away, and the wins didn’t seem as important to him anymore and I started to think people don’t really get that affected unless they really care about someone.”

You mulled over his words, “You know you’re pretty wise.”

“Thanks. I’ve been told so before.”

“Really?”

“No. Not once.”

You let out a snort, “Well here’s to firsts I guess.”

“What’s your first?” He questioned.

You smiled, “I guess going to Barcelona.”

He cheered at your answer, fists pumping the air. You quickly pulled his hands down with a disapproving look, “There’s customers!”

“There’s two people!” He exclaimed.

You shushed him beginning to come up with a plan to visit. You knew you couldn’t leave right away, you still had to assign people to cover your shifts at the bakery and see if your mother was stable enough to be left on her own for a few days. You also had to finish your university finals scheduled for next week.

You planned with Gavi for him to come back next week and help you tidy up any loose ends. Then you would hopefully be heading off to see Pedri for the first time in over a year.

You gave him your number and thanked him for coming to find you.

“Wait how did you find me?” You asked Gavi as he was leaving.

He smirked, “Pedri said you had the best bakery in town. So, I googled best bakery and followed the directions, and then voila there you were.”

You chuckled, happy that at least the bakery’s quality hadn’t diminished.

After Gavi left you busied yourself by preparing the store for when you were gone, adding extra shifts to the schedule that you could just barely afford, and diving headfirst into studying for your finals.

Meanwhile, in Barcelona, Gavi was being ruthlessly bullied by his teammates at Monday morning practice.

“Get this, Gavi flew all the way to the Canary Islands for one day. Because of a girl.” Torres commented, earning laughs from the other players.

Only Pedri looked up in surprise, “You went to the Canary Islands?”

Gavi passed the ball, debating telling the truth before deciding against it, “Yeah, was only there a couple hours though.”

“Who’d you see?” Pedri questioned.

Before Gavi could respond, Ansu cut in, “Mystery girl. She’s been texting him all morning. It’s a 928 number so you know it’s a Canarian girl.”

Gavi cursed him under his breath, “Ansu stop checking my phone you dick. I’m just talking to a friend.”

Ferran nodded, “Right. A ‘friend’ you’re going to go see again this weekend.”

Gavi groaned, silently begging for the questioning to end.

“Who are you texting, maybe I know them.” Pedri joked.

Gavi laughed uncomfortably, “I don’t think you know this one.”

The conversation died at that when Coach ordered them to split up and begin a practice game.

Gavi let out a sigh of relief, glad he hadn’t blown your cover.

The next weekend came, and you found yourself growing more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by. Gavi was supposed to be here in five minutes, and you felt like you were going to projectile vomit everywhere.

You walked into your mother’s room trying to distract yourself from the nervous flips of your stomach or the erratic beating of your heart.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine Mamà?”

She nodded from the bed, motioning for you to come closer, “I’ll be fine I promise. It will be good to get back to work.”

You bit the inside of your cheek anxiously. While the days of day drinking and passing out at noon were behind your mother, she still couldn’t help but crave a bottle every night. She was slowly recovering, and you hoped you being away wouldn’t cause her to relapse.

“You call if you need anything okay? I’ll come right away.”

She patted your cheek affectionately, “Go, you worry too much Y/n.”

You smiled kissing her cheek before heading downstairs just in time to see Gavi walk in.

“Oh look it’s my favorite non-patron customer.” You sarcastically said.

The boy grinned at you, giving you a hug, “Y/n how have you been? All ready?”

You nodded, “Yes sir. But feeling like I might throw up at any second so warning.”

He scrunched up his nose in disgust, “Please do not throw up in the plane or I will be so mad at you.”

You glared at him, “Please I’m much classier than that. I’m more of a throw up on the side of the road kind-of gal.”

He gave you a wary look, “Aren’t you just a gem?”

You smiled sweetly at him.

The plane ride went smoothly and by that you meant you didn’t throw up but instead just complained about it in between badgering Gavi about your nerves on meeting Pedri.

Finally, the boy had enough of your ranting, “Y/n. You're great but if I have to hear another word about how Pedri makes you feel I’m throwing myself off this plane, football career be damned.”

It was pretty silent after that. It was your first time on a flight since you were little and even though the flight time was extremely short you made the most of it.

You thanked the flight crew as you got off, earning a, “Enjoy your stay in Barcelona,” in response.

You couldn’t believe you were here, in Barcelona, away from your small little town for the first time in over a decade.

You and Gavi breezed through baggage claim and before you knew it you were getting into a car, greeting his father, and being ushered into his house.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here.” You told his father once you walked inside.

He gave you a warm smile, “No problem at all chica.”

“This is my house so you should be thanking me if anything.” Gavi cut in, earning a wack on the head from his father.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright well thanks Gavi.”

He gave you a bright smile, “You’re so welcome.”

After that you made your way up to the guestroom, exhaustion taking over your body as you fell asleep, for the first time in a long time dreaming of the possibilities of the future.

You woke up to Gavi’s yelling, “Y/n are you up?”

You groaned, looking at the clock, before pulling a pillow over your head.

It seemed that not only bakers woke up at 5 am, but also athletes.

“What do you want?” You murmured.

“Do you want to come to practice?” He asked, entering your room.

Your eyes widened, you weren’t prepared at all, you hadn’t even showered or mentally prepared yourself.

“No way.”

Gavi groaned, kicking your leg that was dangling off the edge of the bed, “Fine, but I’ll be back at 2 pm, and then we have to figure out a plan.”

You glared at him, hiding your legs between the sheets, “Ok. Have fun.”

He waved goodbye, closing the door behind him, leaving you with only one thing running through your mind.

Pedri.

You wondered what it would be like once you saw him again. Did he still look the same? Was he still the same carefree, level headed guy you said goodbye to last year?

You hoped he wouldn’t be too mad about your unplanned visit.

You kept thinking over what you were going to say as you got ready, how you would explain why you stopped responding to him, telling him everything in your life you had been hiding for the past year.

Soon enough you heard keys jingling, unlocking the door, and Gavi’s sweaty face greeted you.

“Today’s practice was brutal.” He said, kicking off his shoes, and making his way to the kitchen.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Got grilled about you, as usual, everyone thinks I’m hopelessly in love with you. They know you’re here by the way.”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, sputtering, “Oh my god. How do they know? Do they know it’s me?”

He shook his head, “There were some photos taken by fans at the airport, guess we didn’t see them. Don’t worry though it was when we were hugging so your face is covered.”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling back into your chair, “Thank God. I can’t believe we almost blew it!”

Gavi laughed, “I know, we’re so bad at this. Pedri was so quiet today, I think he’s suspicious.”

“Really?”

“He said like two sentences all of practice, and the only time he spoke to me was to ask about the mystery girl.” Gavi pointed out.

You shrugged, “Maybe he was just out of it today.”

Gavi gave you a look, “We both know that’s not true.”

You sighed, looking everywhere but at him, “I think this was a bad idea.”

You felt Gavi walk up beside you, tilting your chin so you were forced to look at him, “Y/n shut up, you’re awesome. Yes, you’re annoying every now and then, and won’t stop talking even at the worst times,” you glared at him, “but I get why Pedri loves you so much.” You smiled at his words, the nerves dissipating.

In the distance, you could hear a door opening.

You went to open your mouth to thank him when suddenly he was ripped away from you and shoved to the ground, hard.

“Qué demonios?” Gavi asked confused before his lips turned into a straight line and a somber expression took over his face. What the hell?

“Pedri.” The boy spoke as he warily stood up, “I swear-“

“You fucking asshole.” Pedri was seething.

Your eyes widened at the situation, but you stood frozen in place.

Gavi went to speak again, hands outstretched trying to reason with Pedri but he was cut off,

“Ansu said her name and I swear my world tilted and my stomach dropped because there’s no way my friend would do that to me right? There’s no way the random girl he’s gone to see every weekend is my best friend who can’t even be bothered to send me a text back.”

Pedri shoved the younger boy in the chest again, pushing him against the rattling cupboards, “So then I come to your house paranoid, thinking I’ve gone crazy because I keep getting the feeling that your mystery girl isn’t a mystery to me, and then I come here and see this. You? With her? With my-“

“Pedro it’s not like that I swear.” You finally spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension.

He didn’t even spare you a glance, too focused on his anger and the throbbing pain he was feeling in his chest, it felt like the air was squeezing out his lungs every time he thought about you and Gavi.

He glared at the boy in front of him, teeth clenched, he never knew he could loathe anyone as much as he did Gavi, “You were supposed to be my friend.”

The midfielder shook his head rapidly, “I am I swear. If you could just let me-“

Pedri disregarded him, finally turning to look at you, “Y/n.” He said your name so bitterly that you shrunk back.

You reached out to touch him, but he quickly pulled away, a dry, humorless laugh spilling out, “You left me. And for what? For him?”

“Pedro if you just let-“

“It’s Pedri. Only my friends get to call me Pedro.”

His words stung. It felt like he was plucking every single strand of hope you had left and then stomping on them while you could do nothing but watch them whither away.

Your voice shook as you spoke, “Ok Pedri, please let me explain. I came here for you.”

He scoffed, “Right you came here for me. I haven’t heard from you in months, in months, and you just expect me to believe one day you were like oh I wonder how Pedri’s doing, and decided to hop on a flight here? If you really cared, you would have never stopped writing.”

You felt your eyes fill with unushered tears as you fought, but you refused to let them fall, “I care! In fact, I care too much!”

He gave you a sarcastic smile, “Well you sure have an odd way of showing it. Is making other people feel worthless how you show your love?”

You bit back a sob at his words, not expecting him to be so cruel, “I- I never meant to make you feel like that. I ju- just-“

“What Y/n, you just what?”

“I just thought you’d be better off without me!” You finally revealed your true feelings.

“That’s not your decision to make!” You were screaming at each other now, and you could see Gavi slip out of the kitchen from the corner of your eye.

“You don’t know what it was like-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“You’re right I don’t know. Only because you never let me in. Did you really think I wouldn’t be there for you? You are my number one priority!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know you would have, but I didn’t want that for you. I knew the second I told you something was wrong you would have dropped everything and booked the first flight out. Things were just starting off for you, and I didn’t want to be one that got in the way.”

Silence followed your admission as you opened your eyes to see Pedri looking back at you with glassy eyes, chest heaving,

“I would have been there for you.” He emphasized, voice breaking.

You sighed, all the anger leaving your body as you slouched against the table, “I know.” You admitted.

You both looked around, unsure of how to move forward. You decided telling the truth was probably the best course of action.

“I stopped writing after my abuela died. Mamà went into a bad mental state, she just wasn’t herself anymore y’know? And I kept reading about all the amazing things you were doing, all the good that was coming your way, and I just felt like burdening you with my problems was only going to take away from that. All my accomplishments seemed insignificant at the time; how could I celebrate when my grandmother had just been buried? When my mother was grieving, barely able to stay sober long enough to remember she had a daughter let alone a bakery to run?” You shrugged your shoulders helplessly, “I don’t know, after that, life seemed so insignificant, like my sole purpose was to keep my grandmother’s legacy alive by putting everything I had into the bakery. I guess along the way I lost what mattered the most to me.” You confessed, looking up at him.

Pedri didn’t say a word, instead pulling you into his arms, rocking your bodies back and forth just like had done all those months ago at the train station. You squeezed him, burying your face into his chest and inhaling. He still smelled the same.

That fact alone gave you more comfort than you had in months.

You felt one hand rub soothing circles on your back, while the other went to play with the strands of your hair, just like he used to do when you were kids.

You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face.

Standing here, in his arms, you felt like there was suddenly hope again.

You pulled away to look up at him, but kept yourself in his embrace, “I’ve missed you so much Pedri.”

He looked at you for a moment, eyes sparkling like they always did, he had a strange expression on his face, like he couldn’t decide what to say. Finally, his expression shifted into one of sincerity as he spoke,

“I love you.”

Your world slowed down as your heartbeat picked up, did he mean it in the way you hoped he did?

The confusion must have shown on your face because he continued, “I’m in love with you. Honestly, I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen playing football behind my house, probably since even before then. You’re the kindest person I know, and every time I score a goal or achieve something you’re the first person I want to tell. I want to make you proud, and I know that these last few months without you have been absolute hell – I know I made promises I couldn’t keep, but I swear to you if you give me another chance, I'll never take you for granted. I just want to be able to share things with you again."

You were awestruck at his confession. You had dotted around the lines of friends and something more for so long, and all the praying you had done in your room at sixteen seemed to have finally paid off.

His arms slid down to wrap around your waist as he brought you flush against his chest, "C'mon Y/n say something."

You looked up into his eyes confirming your thoughts, yep, he still had the same warm brown eyes and annoyingly perfect smile. Your hands went up to his cheeks as you squeezed them playfully, "Of course I love you linda, I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. And I'm the one who took you for gra-"

You were mid-sentence when Pedri bent down, unable to resist any longer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back immediately, hands running up the length of his arms before settling around his neck, bringing him as close as possible.

You tugged on his bottom lip playfully and heard him let out a groan, the sound shooting straight to your tummy sending a storm of butterflies fluttering around.

You both finally pulled away, gasping for air, chests heaving, foreheads touching.

"I've always wanted to do that." He said, nuzzling his nose with yours softly.

You felt your heart thud against your chest, synchronizing to the beat of his after a moment, "Me too."

"How about you spend the night at mine tonight?" He asked.

Your eyebrows rose in shock, not expecting him to be so forward.

He quickly realized how it sounded, "Not like that Y/n. I just missed spending time with you."

And there was the fluttery feeling in your stomach again. It seemed every time he said anything from now on all you could do was blush.

You bit your lip, nodding, "I'd like that."

He grinned at you before his eyes focused on your lips again, "Don't do that, it's distracting."

"Huh?" You asked, but he was already leaning down, kissing you senseless once more.

1K notes · View notes

seospicybin · 1 year ago

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Han become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,9k words)

Author's note: I hope you like this one too. Don't be shy to add your feedback :)

If you were in paradise with good company and had to resist sex, could you?

We found the hottest, horniest, commitment-phobic singles and gave them what they think is the most exotic and erotic summer of their lives.

Only to reveal that one thing is off the menu is sex.

At stake is a prize of $200,000 which will plummet if they get naughty. The question is, in a world without sex, will they form deeper and more meaningful connections?

Or will the temptation be too hot to handle?

"I'm here!" Han announces his arrival and shouts it toward the beach.

Instead of feeling nervous, he feels good to be the first one to enter the villa. At least this way, he wouldn't feel intimidated when he sees people who are more good-looking than him.

There's not much to do with no one to interact with, he grabs one of the cocktails served on the small round table and takes a sip.

He turns the other way, sipping his cocktail while looking at the beautiful view of the sea that goes as far as his eyes can see.

"Oh, it's so gorgeous here," he says with a delightful sigh.

Little did he know, that's not the only gorgeous thing he'll see today.

HAN: I'm charming 24/7, that's for sure [laughs] Girls often say they like my smile [brightly smiles] and I won't disagree with that [chuckles] I'm all about a good chat, I'm good listener. I gather pieces of information, I use them at the right time, and [makes shooting gesture] That's part of the secret.

Han has to squint his eyes against the blinding sunlight and see two girls coming his way. He sips his drink to fuel his confidence and prepares himself to make a good first impression.

"Wow. You girls look amazing!" Han says out of wonder, not hesitating to let his thoughts out.

He hates to see women objectively but it's hard not to. Not when they're dressed in something that leaves so little to the imagination.

"We can say the same about you," The taller one says, talking as if she's half moaning.

"I'm Mikaela," she introduces herself, not hesitating to pull him into a hug.

Mikaela has shiny dark hair, plump lips, and a height he doesn't have, yet it's not going to stop him from pursuing her.

But it's too early to settle down yet. He turns to the other girl who's more his height and gives her a quick hug.

"I'm Han," he introduces his name first.

"I'm Nya," she replies.

Nya's brown skin glows under the sun and when she smiles, she shows her perfect white teeth.

"Can we drink this?" She asks in a thick British accent.

Stunned by how attractive the girls are, Han forgets about making a good, first impression. He hurriedly hands the drinks over to the girls and proposes a toast.

They're clinking their glasses against each other and take a sip at the same time.

"So, Han, what is your type?" Mikaela asks.

It may seem like a harmless question but it's actually not, she wants him to choose between the two of them. He needs to be careful with what he says if he wants to please them.

"I don't really have a type... but uh... I like eyes, gorgeous eyes," he says.

They nod at you, not quite figuring out what he says by that. He comes up with something to amuse them both, "I like a gorgeous smile too and you both have that."

That works wonderfully as they're smiling and laughing at his answer.

"Cheers to that!" Mikaela says, clinking her glass with his.

"I think the three of us can do something while we wait for the others," Nya suggests an idea.

An idea that gives Han a glimpse of what her personality is. Don't get him wrong, he likes girls who know how to have fun, he just doesn't expect it coming from Nya.

"Yeah? What do you have in mind?" Han playfully dares her.

Nya sips her drink to avoid answering his question then breaks into a series of giggles.

Sadly, the threesome must end as the second male guest enters the villa.

Han would be lying if he said he was not the slightest bit intimidated. Not only he doesn't have his height, but he also doesn't have that Greek God-like body and facial hair that enhances his masculinity.

"How are you doing, man?" He asks Han who's gobsmacked by how tall he is as he stands next to him.

"Good, good," he answers, exchanging a quick hug with him.

He can see honey dripping from Nya's eyes as she looks at the new guy, "What is your name?"

"Rio," he answers.

"Where are you from, Rio?" Mikaela asks, holding her glass close to her lips.

"I'm from Brazil," he answers, taking a drink for himself.

Mikaela giggles even though there's nothing funny about what he says. She fixes her hair as she says, "Rio, you are so gorgeous."

It feels like Han has become invisible to everyone. He quietly sips his drink and tries not to despair. There are more to come and who knows? He'll find someone more suitable to him, more of his type.

Han has to be patient as two more male guests enter the villa, successfully making his confidence shrink.

He bursts into laughter as he's standing between Peyton and Finn like two gorgeous, white pillars of a Greek temple.

And as if that's not enough, the female guest who just entered is also tall.

"Fuck. I'm so small, it's a joke," he says, trying to lighten up his mood by making a fool out of himself.

The boys around him laugh at his joke and almost miss out on the new girl's introduction.

"I'm Sawyer," she says with a cute smile.

"So, Sawyer, what is your type?" Nya asks, going straight to the point.

Han stands up straight and funnily, the other guys are lining up so Sawyer can take a good look at them. He stands on his tiptoes to match the other's heights, earning good laughs from the girls.

"Well, let's say I'm looking more into their personality..." her answer gets cut off as the last male guest enters the scene.

He looks like a textbook bad boy with long, brown hair and tattoos on his body, he has that smoldering eyes that certainly does thing to the girls as he takes all of their attention away.

Confidently, he walks around introducing himself to the girls, kissing them on the cheeks, and keeps his introduction short by only telling his name, "Asher."

So far, no one has caught his eyes or struck his fancy, he doesn't find the sparks he usually gets when he sees someone he likes.

He can only hold onto the hope that he'll find what he's looking for on the last two female guests.

On the other hand, he can't help but expect disappointment and...

"Oh, they're too fit!" Sawyer cutely gasps.

Han glances up from his drink to see what she's fussing about and the boys are howling in reaction to girls walking into the villa.

HAN: Oh, we're so spoiled for choice [laughs]

It's kind of unfair that they make you enter the villa with someone as gorgeous as Avery.

Except for the dark brown, she looks like the Malibu Barbie. She has perfect skin, that hourglass body figure, and a nice smile. Meanwhile, you look like a long-forgotten, doodled-on Barbie with tattoos scattered across your body.

"Are you nervous?" She asks with an Australian accent.

She looks so cute as she nervously giggles, "Not really," you answer.

It's everyone there who should be nervous because they haven't seen her. You're not jealous, if anything, you want to date her for yourself.

"Should we hold hands?" She offers her hand to you.

You look around at the staff preparing your entrance to the villa, "I'm not sure..."

Your words are trailing off as the staff gives the cute for both of you to start walking into the villa.

To your surprise, you don't feel nervous at all. You feel excited to meet a lot more attractive people and can't wait to know them.

You turn your head and see Avery, looking not as nervous as she seemed to be earlier.

She looks gorgeous with the sun hits her eyes, showing off her beautiful green eyes with a tint of brown in the middle.

It's kind of expected that she's catching all the attention and the boys seem to be curious about Avery that they just can't take their eyes off of her.

"I'm Avery, hi," she introduces herself.

She makes eyes with everyone and Han returns the eye contact with a wide smile on his face.

"Do you fancy anyone, Avery?" Nya asks, being the one that leads the conversation again.

Avery looks at the boys with a smile dancing on her face, Sligh nodding when her eyes hover between Han and Asher.

"Yeah..." she answers then looks away to sip her drink.

"And how about you?" Nya asks.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you quietly grab a drink for yourself. You hold your drink in your hand as you answer, "Honestly, I fancy everyone here."

You look at Nya and continue talking, "I go both ways so bring 'em all in, I guess?" you say with a sly smirk.

Nya seems amused by your answer, "I like that, girl!" She says, clinking her glass with you after.

"Please, save some for us," Rio playfully says.

You nonchalantly shrug and say, "I don't mind sharing."

You secretly steal a few glances at the guy who's been eyeing Avery the second she came into the villa. He looks so cute and cute guys are your weaknesses.

YOU: Hi, nice to meet you. I'm— [holds up hand] that sounds so lame, let me do it again! [Laughs] Hey, what's up? It's your girl [blows kisses] I like to keep a low profile. When I see someone I like, I just give them the eyes and they'll get it [Winks] I have standards, of course. But at the end of the day, I have the worst criteria [laughs]

The girls are cheering in excitement as they're the first to enter the bedroom.

There are five beds and ten people in here which means everyone has to pair up. The options are still wide open even though he sees Avery sitting on the bed with Asher.

He's half-heartedly listening to the conversation happening in the room as everyone is asking each other about their profession.

He sits on the bed to engage in the conversation as Peyton just told everyone that he works as a model which explains his perfect figure.

"What about you?" Peyton turns to Avery.

She tips her head to the side and it's so adorable of her "Why don't you guess?"

"I think you model too," Finn guesses.

She surprisingly shakes her head, "No, I'm a singer," she says.

Han finds the opportunity to inject himself into the conversation.

"Oh, me too!" He says with such enthusiasm.

"Yeah?" Avery asks.

Han eagerly nods, especially now he has her attention, "What's your sign?"

"I'm a Pisces," she answers.

It's obvious that he can't match his star sign with hers but he won't let it get in his way, "My moon is in Pisces!" He says with a gasp.

"We have a lot of commons," he says, holding both his hands up for a double high-five with her.

"I think we should kiss," Han shamelessly adds.

Avery bursts into laughter hearing Han's proposition but to his surprise, she says, "Just a peck then."

She gets up from the bed and meets Han in the middle, their lips meet for a mere second until Avery breaks the kiss. There are various reactions from everyone but Han notices a few jealous eyes in a few of them. His way of flirting may seem random and a bit silly but hey, it works!

HAN: I'm feeling two or three of them but Avery... [whistles] Great body, great smile.

It seems like Han is not the only one who has the hots for Avery.

As he chats with Rio with his legs dipped in the swimming pool, he sees that Asher pulls her aside, talking on the wooden chair that overlooks the sea.

He turns at Rio and playfully asks, "What do you think he's saying?"

Rio lets out a chuckle and shrugs, "He's probably saying 'you're the most beautiful girl' and stuff like that," he replies.

Han chuckles at that as he keeps watching the two of them talking. He must admit that Asher wins on visual but it's not a guarantee that he'll be able to win her over with just his look.

Also, he already bagged a peck from Avery.

"How about you? Mikaela, huh?" Han says, guessing that Rio has his eyes on the beautiful, dark-haired girl.

Rio leans with his hands propped behind him and softly laughs, "She's got a banging, banging body," he says the word twice to emphasize how hot she is.

"I think I'll give it a shot, you know, and see what she's saying," Rio concludes.

Well, if he were Rio, he wouldn't worry about not getting a girl. He could only wish to have his sculpted body and he is indeed envious of him for it.

"Finn is going for Avery too," Rio informs.

"Yeah?" He asks with a painful laugh.

Rio laughs while brushing his dark curls to the back, "All I can say to you is best of luck," he says with a sly smile.

Well, the fact that he has competitions only means that Avery is that girl.

HAN: There's a competition going on for Avery [laughs] Well, I say let the games begin [rubs hands together]

This show is called Party in Paradise for a reason.

Everyone is so revved up and ready for the first party in the villa. The boys are already gathered at the beach, taking a glass of cocktail and making a toast.

"I saw my boy Peyton made his move earlier with Nya," Asher says.

"What?" Han asks in disbelief, completely clueless about it.

Peyton sips his drink with a bragging smirk plastered on his face, "It was nice, it was nice," he coyly responds to that.

"Are you trying to one me up or what?" Han jokes.

He swallows his drink before replying, "Something is going to happen tonight," he cryptically says.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air for another toast and Han wants to keep his focus sharp so he's only taking little sips of it.

Not long after, the girls are coming and dressed stunningly, carefully walking down the steps that lead to the beach. All of them look beautiful in their own way but Avery is exceptionally gorgeous to him.

HAN: I need to make a move on Avery. I need to make a progress.

The first round of drinks has been drained and everyone moved on to the next round right away. Music is blasting, sending everyone to start moving their bodies to the upbeat music.

Everyone is having fun and getting to know each other with every sip of drink, dancing with each other, not caring that the cameras are filming everything.

You've been instructed to take the lead on the first quest since everyone will take their turn anyway, you've been briefed on everything about the first quest.

When the music abruptly stops, you take it as your cue to take control of the show.

"You guys, I've been tasked to lead the first quest and..." you look at them to build anticipation.

"Don't worry, it's a fun quest!" You assure them, allowing them to stay loosen up.

You grab an eye mask that has been prepared by the staff and show it to everyone, "Each one of you will take turns to stand here," you pointed to the marked spot with a foam mat.

"And you'll put this on," you show them the eye mask again.

You take a few seconds of pause before letting them know the most fun part of it, "And any of you can come to kiss, lick, taste, bite, anything..."

You look at them and emphasize the word again, "Anything!"

Everyone is cheering in reaction, given the chance to do whatever they want to the person they fancy. You can expect a lot of lips locking and fondling in a few minutes.

"Don't get excited yet!" You put a halt to the pheromones you're spreading through your words.

You slyly smile, enjoying the little piece of authority you have over the show.

"The quest is, you have to guess who does what to you and whoever with the most correct answers," you turn around to show them the mysterious box behind you.

You step aside so everyone can look, "You'll get to open the mystery box!"

That earns a wave of applause from them, gets them wondering what's inside the box, and is determined to win the quest.

"Sadly, I don't know what's inside the box," you hurriedly tell them before they get suspicious that you know more than them.

You look around to spot any exciting person to kickstart the game. You notice that Mikaela seems eager to get something out of Rio.

"Mikaela, will you do the honor to be the first?"

She smiles brightly and confidently steps forward, squealing in excitement. You help put the eye mask on without ruining her styled hair and take a step back.

"You ready?" You ask her.

She wriggles her body, "I'm ready!"

Don't want to waste the chance, you steal a quick peck on her lips and earn a surprise gasp from some people.

"That's you!" Mikaela easily guesses.

You walk back to your seat while laughing and see that Rio is also taking his turn after you.

YOU: I got my make-up on, I did my hair and I'm... going to get a kiss from everyone [laughs]

Peyton stirs a little chaos as he kisses Sawyer and it's not hard to see a displease look on Nya's face after, probably for the rest of the night too.

The time finally comes to Avery's turn. She carefully covers her eyes with the eye mask and with a smile, she makes gestures with her hands.

"Come and get it," she says, swinging her hips side to side.

Han wastes not another second to sprint to her and lands the first kiss on her lips. He gives everything he has to offer, kissing her with the skill he honed from years of experience and putting all of himself into this one kiss.

A kiss that he hoped would be enough to enchant her and put her under his spell.

Han slowly pulls away as his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, gasping as he looks at Avery's face.

"We share another common thing," he says.

"Huh? What?" Avery asks, still disoriented from the kiss.

"We're both great kissers," he answers.

Avery covers her mouth as she breaks into laughter and as soon as Han leaves his spot, Finn takes his turn to kiss her and he has to watch it.

"Oh, this is mad!" Rio comments while elbowing his sides next to him.

And right after that, Asher takes the next turn and kisses Avery, getting mixed reactions from everyone. That's probably because she gets the most kisses so far.

Avery takes off her eye mask and wipes her lips, trying to clean her smudged lipstick.

"Can you guess, Avery baby?" Nya asks.

She looks in his direction to get any clues on the person who kissed her.

"The first kiss is you," she easily guesses, using both hands to point at him.

Han is inexplicably proud of her for guessing right, he believes the peck helped her to identify his kiss.

"The second one is... uhm..." she bites her finger as she thinks.

She then scrunches her nose and doing it so adorably, "I think it's Finn?"

"And the last one?" You ask.

"That's Asher," she shortly answers, not having the slightest doubt in it.

Han looks at Asher who is nodding along, feeling cocky that Avery recognized his kiss. It seems like the competition has started for real.

HAN: The competition is... real mad! [laughs]

It's his turn now.

Han drains his drink that he's been sipping little by little and he needs every drop of courage to ready himself for it. When he looks at the other boys, they seem to have it easy because they're undeniably attractive and he feels slightly scared that the other will treat him differently because he's less attractive than the other.

Well, he should mainly focus on the keyword: attractive.

Han is attractive nonetheless.

The layer of anxiety is safely hidden behind his playful smirk as he takes his stand and covers his eyes with the eye mask. He licks his lips and slyly smiles as he says, "Come on! Daddy's home!"

Even though the possibility is close to zero percent, he badly wishes that he could get a kiss from Avery. He laughs as he remembers that he shouldn't take this too seriously, he's here to have fun, it's Party in Paradise.

He can hear the girls giggling and the boys cooing, he takes that as a sign that someone is approaching him. He swallows air as his heart is pitter-pattering and his chest filled with anticipation.

He's seen the other boys take their turn and everyone at least gets a smooch so he stands there expecting one as well.

Instead of that, he feels a kiss on his neck. He shouldn't feel disappointed but he can't help it. He focuses on trying to guess who it is.

Before getting his answer, he hears everyone cooing again and a few light claps.

He anticipates it and this time he believes that he'll get a kiss on the lips.

He indeed gets a kiss but not from one. He feels two pairs of lips kissing him at once and he doesn't mind it at all. It surprises him that he can only let them kiss him.

It's incredibly soft and warm, a little wet. He feels a few licks in here and there.

Too bad that he can't see it but it makes him visualize it in his head, him making out with these two girls, and fuck, it's so hot it gets him so horny.

He doesn't want to guess anymore, he keeps wanting to kiss them because they're both good at it, they know how to use their tongues, and makes him feel a bit lightheaded.

Someone pulls away first and he can hear her softly gasping while the other is still kissing him, taking a bit of his lower lip before letting it go.

Han hears another series of giggles but the sounds are fading, the girls are probably walking back to their seats. He takes a minute to compose himself, then takes off his eye mask.

The first thing he does to get his vision back is look at girls to scan any guilty faces. He can easily guess the one who kisses his neck.

"The one who kissed my neck is..." he points his finger at Sawyer and she reacts with blushed cheeks and a shy laugh, which proves that he's right.

This is where it gets tricky, he was enjoying every bit of that sexy makeout to try to guess who are they. He looks at the girls and they're giving him vague signs.

Sawyer is out of options and he knows Mikaela has no interest in him. That leaves you, Nya, and Avery.

As much as he wants to believe that it's Avery, he doesn't want to make it obvious to her. So he settles on you and Nya.

"Nah, you're wrong," Nya tells him.

His eyes widen in shock and he doesn't want to get over his head but is it possible that one of them is Avery?

He walks back to his seat with a dreading curiosity, "Who was it?"

Rio playfully punches his arm, "It's those girls!"

His eyes follow the direction of Rio's hand and he's even more surprised to know that he's right.

It's you and Avery.

HAN: I don't know what else to say [shrugs] I made out with the two hottest girls in the villa [smirks]

Not trying to compete with the other three boys but you're sure that the last person that kissed you is Avery.

"I know it's you," you point at her.

Avery may look like an angel, she walks and talks like an angel but she has the devil inside of her. You know that she's just like you, she's all about the vibe and having fun. You believe you would be good friends with her.

"I would be sad if you guessed it wrong," she says.

"I know," you coyly answer.

The game ends with you and it's time to announce the winner of the quest. It's an easy call because the one with the most correct guesses is none other than Avery.

"Come up here!" You order.

She gets up from her chair and walks up to you, leading her to the mystery box as she's the winner which earned her the chance to be the one opening it.

"I've been told that the content of this box will truly change this trip into an experience you won't forget," you inform everyone.

Avery gives you a nervous look as she grips the handle on the lid of the box.

"Are guys ready?" You ask everyone to keep the tension.

"Yeah!" They answer in unison.

You look at Avery and nod, "There's no turning back once you open it!"

You jokingly say that to scare her before walking back to your seat and joining everyone else as anticipation mounts in each passing second.

Avery looks at everyone and squints her eyes, "Count with me, please!"

Everyone agrees to start counting down together, "3..."

Avery decides to stand behind the box and holds the handle of the box again.

"2..."

You wonder what's inside the box, it looks small from where you're sitting but you have seen it up close, it could fit anything and it could be anything inside.

"1..."

Avery closes her eyes as she lifts the lid and the box unfolds on every side, exposing the content to everyone's watching.

You don't want to believe what you're seeing but then it chimes.

"Oh... fuck!" You curse out loud and you're not the only one doing so.

YOU: Are you joking?

"What is it?" Avery asks as she hasn't opened her eyes yet.

She then puts the lid away and sees what everyone is seeing, the cone that lights up in purple-hued colors.

"What is that?" She cluelessly asks.

"That's Lana!" Nya screams with a strained voice.

"That's fucking Lana!" She says again with a doomed expression.

Avery's eyes widen in horror and she drags herself back to sit, wedging herself between you and Mikaela.

You guess everyone is just in shock about the sudden turn of events and that everyone is trapped in her show. You hate that you know what's coming for you.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," Lana announces, telling everyone that she is running this show from the very beginning.

"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships."

"Guilty!" Asher says with a hand raised like he's in a classroom.

"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."

Avery drops her head on your shoulder and grumbles, "I don't want that, Lana."

You put your hand around her, feeling what she's feeling: betrayal and devastation.

"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."

You close your eyes and try to take the first bitter pill, swallowing it dry, and pushing it as far down as you can.

"Are you jok—" Mikaela can't even finish her sentence.

"No kissing."

"What?" Avery gasps in disbelief.

"No heavy petting."

Mikaela sighs, running her hand to her hair and ruining her hairstyle altogether.

"And no sex of any kind."

That earns a lot of gasp from everyone and there goes down the biggest, most bitter pill you have to take.

"This also applies to self-gratification."

Mikaela sighs again while Nya squeals in both pain and amusement.

"What does it mean?" Sawyer innocently asks.

"You can't masturbate, babe," Avery answers her question with a pout.

"At all?" She asks again to confirm her fear.

So they threw a bunch of hot people into a villa and tricked them into thinking that they would be partying and having fun only to reveal that they're not allowed to have any physical contact? What in the 21st century way of torture is this?

YOU: There goes my plan to kiss everyone... I was planning to get a taste here and there and now it's like... No [sighs]

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000."

Everyone's eyes turn green at the mention of money and the amount of it, also at the promise that they can win it.

"I'm a college student. I need that!" Finn comments from the end of the bench.

"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy to win that much money and now it looks like everyone would be leaving with nothing.

But with the rules are set and the prize is announced, the game gets serious now.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer," Lana finishes with the gloom casting on those words.

"Everyone gets ready now 'cause it's not Party in Paradise anymore," Nya reminds everyone with the harsh truth.

"It's hell now," Mikaela eggs in.

Han personally thinks this is worse than hell. Because at least in hell, he'd be allowed to get horny.

HAN: $200,000... That's a lot of money... to spend [smirks]

"Please, can we not?"

The last thing you want to hear is everyone complaining about the rules again and it's only dragging you down more than you allowed it to.

"I'm just upset..." Mikaela says as she takes off her earrings and puts them into a jewelry box.

"I know," you sigh, tossing your shoes into the bottom shelf of your closet.

It takes you a long time to get ready for bed but it's most likely because the girls are chatting and you can't help but join in. Trying to keep yourself away from sex is hard but being able to talk about it is what makes it bearable.

You and Avery walk to the bedroom with arms linked, you just know you'll be friends by how you identify a few traits of yours in her.

The boys are already taking their territory except for Finn, you know he's still in the dresser room. You're fine sharing a bed with anyone but you try not to make drama by getting on a bed with someone's person of interest.

Since Avery is the hot commodity, you make her choose where she'll sleep tonight.

"So, Avery, what's the bed situation?" You ask her.

A few pairs of ears perk up hearing the question and you notice that the three men competing are watching as Avery is making a decision.

She walks up to the bed in the middle, "I'll sleep here."

Asher triumphantly smiles as Avery climbs onto his bed and gets under the cover next to him.

Now that she has settled on a man, you can choose your bed partner at ease. Rio is off-limits unless you want to face Mikaela's wrath and Peyton is also out of the question, you don't want to mess with Nya.

You walk over to Han's bed and you kind of like the vibe he's giving you, you know he's into Avery but it's not like he has much of options, it's either you and Sawyer.

"Want to share a bed?" You ask.

Han glances at you and without answering, makes a space on the bed for you. He seems to take an interest in the tattoos inked your body and he notices that you're watching.

"How many tattoos do you have?" He asks.

You lean against the pillow stacked behind you, "Uhm... I never counted," you reply.

It's amusing to see the wonder in his eyes as he's looking at your tattoos, making you feel like teasing him.

"How about I get naked and you can count my tattoos for me?"

He blinks his eyes at you, "I can promise you I'll do well at that," he says.

You chuckle at his witty answer and outstretched your arms to showcase the small tattoos on both of your arms.

He turns on the bed to lay on his side facing you, "Which one is your favorite?"

You take a few seconds to think of an answer, "I think it's the one on my spine."

You take all of your hair to one shoulder before turning your back at him, to show him the tattoo you're talking about.

His finger pulls down the silk camisole you're wearing so he can take a better look at it.

"Yeah, that's nice," he agrees with you.

You lean back on your pillow again and look at him, "How about you? Do you have any favorite yet?" You playfully ask.

He slyly smiles even before he begins talking, "Well, I believe there are tattoos that I have not yet seen," he says with one eyebrow slightly raised higher than the other.

Han knows how to amuse you, he's attractive in a different way than the other guys. It makes you want to tease him more.

"You mean like this one?" You lift the front of your camisole to show him the tattoo you have under your left breast.

He almost chokes on air as he breaks into laughter, "That could be my favorite," he says.

You nod and laugh along with him, "I'll show you more but I'm afraid we have to wait for third base," you jokingly say.

That amuses him so much, he collapses on his side of the bed and covers his eyes as he laughs. He has that laugh that only enhances the hilarity and you can't help to laugh along.

YOU: Han is cute, yeah, I think we'll get on well.

The lights are on and Han would still be sleeping if you didn't shift on the bed to take your water tumbler from the bedside table.

As everyone is slowly getting up and dragging themselves out of slumber, Lana's chime startles everyone.

"Oh, it wasn't a dream," Nya groans from the next bed to his.

Yeah, right, Han forgot about the sex ban until that cone lights up on top of the small glass table in the middle of the room.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

Han props a pillow behind his head and you take his arm out so you can rest your head on it.

"Morning, hon!" You sleepily reply.

"I'd like to remind you that you're in a retreat but I do hope you enjoy your summer of sun, sea, and no sex," Lana concludes her morning greeting, leaving everyone with the awakening truth that they're not allowed to touch each other.

Han looks over to Avery's bed and wonders how is he going to make a move on her with Lana cockblocking him?

"Right. I'm going back to sleep," you grumble, closing your eyes and nuzzling your head in his neck.

Han slips his hand in your hair, playing with it as he's listening to the talk happening in the room.

"Is anyone still pissed off?" Nya asks everyone how they feel.

Peyton is the first one to raise his hand and Mikaela adds her opinion on the matter, "I think it's impossible to connect with someone without touching them, don't you think?"

Han is too busy thinking of his game plan now that the competition is getting tough and Asher is a point ahead of him.

"I think we need to tell each other if someone is—" Sawyer's words got cut off by Asher.

"At the end of the day, just don't lie," Asher remarks.

Han turns his head to the side only to bury his nose in your hair, catching the scent of your shampoo.

"Your hair smells so good," he says to you.

You hum with your eyes still closed and splayed your hand on his chest, "And you have nice pecs."

You both softly laugh at the compliments you give each other.

Last night, you both fell asleep after having a chat about random things, getting to know each other with jokes slipped in between.

Han must say that he likes you, you're fun to be around and you don't take things seriously. But then again, his eyes are on Avery.

HAN: I woke up next to her and it was great, I like her but... I like Avery more.

After taking a quick dip in the beach, you're walking past the boys who are working out on the way back to the villa.

"Looking good wet," Asher teases you with a lopsided grin on his face.

Too bad you're immune to sweet nothings like that, you flash him a smile and keep climbing the stairs back to the villa.

The other girls are already done with their make-up and leaving the dressing room empty, allowing you to get ready in peace.

In the middle of doing your hair, Nya enters the room and takes a seat next to you.

"What's up, hottie?" You ask while looking in the mirror to make sure you don't burn your scalp with the straightening iron.

Nya grabs her make-up pouch from the other side of the vanity table and takes out a brush. She seems to have something to say to you but hesitates to tell you.

After a while, she finally confesses, "Peyton and I, we kissed last night."

You're more shocked by the fact that she shares this with you rather than the kiss itself. They're horny for each other, it's only about time that they rule break.

You softly chuckle and gently comb your hair with your fingers, "How many times?"

"Just once," she answers while applying makeup on her cheeks.

"I'm impressed!" You playfully respond.

Nya chuckles at that and swivels her chair to face you, "What do you think? Is it three grand? For a kiss?" She asks with a nervous smile.

You put down the straightening iron and lean back on your chair, "I think so, yeah."

Nya takes lipstick out of her pouch next, "I didn't give a fuck at that moment," she says.

From your observation, Nya indeed doesn't give a fuck about the rules. She broke them hours after Lana put on the sex ban and you believe she wouldn't stop there.

"You saw how he kissed me last night during the game and I was a bit horny that we're sharing the bed..." she stops talking as she breaks into breathless chuckles.

"So, Peyton, huh?"

"Well, yeah, once I set my eyes on someone, I will get them," Nya remarks, affirming her strong personality.

"Sorry not sorry, Sawyer," she adds and couldn't care less about anyone else.

Which reminds you to never get on her bad side. You continue styling your hair while keeping the conversation going.

"Yeah, I think you guys are so cute," you comment even though you're not sure that Peyton will make a loyal partner considering that he kissed another girl right in front of her.

"What about you? How are you feeling?" She asks.

This is a dating show and you're well aware that you should get a partner to make this work but no one really tugs at your heartstrings.

Well, there is Han but he's certainly not available to you.

"I came to meet people and have fun, that's what I'm here for," you settle on a simple answer because you have no idea what you can do without a partner in this show.

"Yeah, yeah," Nya half-heartedly responds, "but who are you feeling?"

You must take another pause on doing your hair, "I like Han, he's cute. I like cute guys," you honestly answer.

Nya smiles listening to you talking, "He is. He is cute."

"But I think he's into Avery," you add, not letting her encourage you to pursue him.

Nya nods, getting the gist of it since it's obvious that Avery is the most popular girl in the retreat. She swipes her full lips with nude-colored lipstick and smacks her lips together.

"Once they know about the kiss, we're going to get hated," Nya once again worries about what would happen when Lana announces the infraction they've done last night.

"I think you should just... own up to it," you suggest.

Honest is the best policy and also, you think people will be less upset if they admit their mistake right away.

YOU: Knowing that someone already broke the rules. It's only about time that someone else starts doing it too.

Han has just come out of the shower when Lana calls everyone to the cabana.

He combs his wet hair fast and walks with Finn to where everyone has gathered, sitting on the curved sofa facing the cone-shaped lady.

He squeezes himself between you and Sawyer, putting his arm on the headrest of the sofa as he waits for Lana to come online.

You look over your shoulder at him, "You smell nice."

"I showered," he simply answers with a sly grin on his face.

"That changes everything," you joke, then rest your head on his shoulder,

The cone lights up followed by the melodic chime that he should get used to hearing it. There must be a reason why everyone is called to the cabana, someone must have done something.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana begins.

"Hey, Lana," he replies, suddenly feeling nervous even though he hasn't done anything yet.

"The rules of my retreat have already been broken."

Everyone collectively gasps at that announcement and this is where they get suspicious of each other.

"Oh, no..." Sawyer sighs.

Finn sits on the edge of the sofa and clasps his hands together in front of him, "Anybody wants to come clean?" He asks.

Han gets the feeling that Finn would play the good cop here and he also senses that you know something, "Did we kiss in our sleep or what?"

"If that's the case, I wouldn't stop at kissing," you joke back at him with a gentle slap on his forearm.

Unexpectedly, what you said makes him flutter inside, he almost forgot that someone broke the rules and possibly, it involves Avery.

"I'm so confused," Sawyer says as if it's a math problem that she needs to solve.

No one wants to come forward and it creates animosity in the air. He doesn't like what this leads to, he hopes that someone comes forward so things won't get ugly.

"Who's guilty?" He throws the question in with his eyes uneasily glancing in Avery's direction.

"I thought we were going to be truthful with each other," Finn reminds everyone about the unwritten rules they made this morning.

The calm on Nya's face shatters as Rio says, "You're looking real guilty right now, Nya."

"Yeah, okay, it was me," she finally confesses.

Nya tips her head to the side then looks at Peyton, "Peyton and I kissed."

Han glares at Peyton, he expects that at least he would man up and own up to it. But Han feels a relief knowing that it wasn't Avery.

"This breach of rules has cost the group $3,000," Lana announces.

Oh? Three thousand dollars? For a kiss? That's a surprise but still, he would spend that much for a kiss with Avery.

"The prize fund now stands at $197,000," Lana updates.

"I'm so vexed, you know," Finn says, being the only one who is genuinely upset about losing money.

While the others... the others seem to have waited for someone to break the wave so they can start to rule break too.

And that includes him.

HAN: Best believe if anybody is going to rule break next, it's me [cackles]

"Hello, I'm Josh and I'm a professional tantric practitioner," the instructor for today's workshop introduces himself.

Your eyebrow raises in intrigue at the mention of the word 'tantric' and how it would help everyone to not think about sex.

"Tantric? What is that?" Sawyer naively asks next to you.

"Just listen to the instructor," you tell her with a pat on her shoulder.

"Usually, when we relate to other people, everything is fast, right?" Josh says.

You nod in agreement while shielding your eyes from the bright sun.

"Someone touches you, you touch them back. You kiss this person, they kiss you back but we don't feel it," he eloquently explains while walking around and making eye contact with everyone.

"That's what this workshop is for. For you to learn how to feel your body," he further explains.

He walks back to the middle and looks at everyone, "Pleasure is not in the other. Pleasure is in yourself."

Then Josh orders everyone to gather in the middle as he explains what we're going to do next. He holds a tray full of blindfolds for everyone.

"Usually, people relate tantra to sexuality. But that's just a really small part. Every aspect of you can benefit from increased awareness," Josh informs.

He then offers the tray to Asher who stands close to him, ordering him to get one.

"So we're going to broaden the awareness of our vision, of our breathing, our sounds, our movements..."

You put the blindfold on and tie it around your head, putting you in total blindness.

"We put the blindfolds on so the experience can just be your experience," he concludes before starting the session.

Josh instructs everyone to move their bodies, walk around, and eventually bump into each other's bodies. You get goosebumps when your body crashes with someone, you can feel their heat and feel them skin-to-skin.

Then Josh orders everyone to take a step back and blindly, get a partner to do the next session.

You catch the person that you inexplicably guess is standing in front of you and holding him.

"Oh, I found one!" You reflexively say.

Your partner chuckles at that and from the laugh, you can tell who it is.

"Got you," you tell him with a grin.

"Okay, now, breathe..." Josh instructed, "Breathe her in. Breathe him in."

You slip your hands under and around his waist while he places his hands on your back, also holding you back.

You lean your head forward and meet his head in the middle, ending up putting our heads together. This way you can feel his breath on you and every subtle sound he makes.

"It's time to reveal who your partner was," Josh finally allows everyone to take their blindfolds off.

You untie it on the back of your head and burst into laughs the moment your eyes meet.

YOU: I just can tell who it is the moment we touch [laughs]

"These emotional processes happen but they can only be experienced if you're present."

Now that everyone has partnered up, each pair takes a seat on the mat and sits facing each other. As Han puts his legs on each side of you, you decide to put your legs over his.

"You can get back to your connection through the eyes," Josh continues.

You both can't stop laughing at each other and the longer you maintain eye contact with him, the more you can't stop yourself from laughing.

"Don't lose her. Don't lose him."

"I think it would be better if we close our eyes," you suggest, holding his hands in substitute of that and pressing your heads together.

"Tantra is a way of connecting with your essence. With your feelings."

And you focus on doing what Josh told you to do, focusing on your breathing to be able to intensely feel things with your senses.

"Deep breathe, not deep penetration," Han reminds you.

Once again, you fail to keep your composure and break into a wave of laughter.

"Now, lie down. It's time for you to feel your whole body vibration."

You both lie down facing against each other with your legs still around him and he places his hand on your shin, softly rubbing the skin with his thumb.

"One must learn to connect deeply with oneself. That's tantra. A way through which you can truly connect with yourself."

Maybe because you let yourself open to it, you can feel that connection, it's as if your body is one with earth. You can feel the ground beneath, you can hear the waves crashing and the warmth of the afternoon sun on your skin.

"Now you can sit up," Josh orders.

You slowly open your eyes and sit up, meeting Han's eyes again but this time, you smile at him.

"That was good," you mutter to him.

"Right?" He agrees with you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and continue to sit close facing each other, feeling each other's bodies in a whole new way.

Josh finishes the workshop with one last instruction: a group hug.

YOU: I think I learned how to get to know myself better and to not hold in what I really feel [smiles]

"You all look so sexy!"

You compliment everyone who's getting ready in the dressing room while searching for someone. Avery gleefully smiles at your compliment.

"You look good in those sexy jeans!"

It sounds like she's making fun of it and you look down to check if you look okay in what you're wearing, "Am I underdressed?"

"No. Your butt looks cute in it," Avery assures you with a playful slap on your clothed ass.

To make room for everyone else who hasn't gotten ready yet, you move to the bedroom and find the one you're looking for. Han is sitting on the bed already dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with the top three buttons left open.

After the workshop, you feel somehow closer to him and you get along really well, you wonder if it could be more.

"Hiya, sexy!" You greet him.

Han glances up and pats the space on the bed, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

"How are you?" He asks.

"Good. You?" You ask back while sitting down and propping a hand against the bed.

"I'm good, thanks," he answers with a smile.

There's no one else in the bedroom and you take it as an opportunity to ask him about something.

"So, where's your head at?" You ask.

Han puts his hand under his head and simply says, "It's right here."

You chuckle and tip your head to the side, "I mean... who do you like in here?"

He takes a moment to take a deep breath and you guess picking his words carefully before answering you, "I think I get on really well with you," he begins.

And it's good to know that he feels the same way about it.

"But I'm more attracted to Avery," he adds, not even hesitating to tell you about it.

Well, it's also good to know that he can openly and comfortably share things with you.

"Yeah," you say, expecting that answer already.

Yet you can't quite hide your disappointment, you look away and pretend to fix your hair. That's just him basically saying that you have a great personality but that's not enough to attract him.

"As you know the three of us are pursuing Avery and we don't know which one she likes..." he says while rubbing his chin.

Instead of being salty about it, you decide to be a friend to him and give him your opinion.

"I think if you like someone, you go for it. There's no time to waste, just go and get it," you encourage while mindlessly running your hand on the bedsheet.

"Yeah," Han's head bobbing in agreement.

"You should talk to Avery and see how she feels about you," you add.

It is obvious that Han likes Avery but he's playing the cool guy trick by thinking that he'll win her over by acting like he doesn't care.

YOU: Oh, well... [awkwardly chuckles] I kind of expected that answer.

After the workshop, Han realizes that you and he bounce off each other, you're tuned in to the same wave and he agrees that it has the potential to be something more than that.

However, Han feels like he should keep pursuing Avery. Mostly because he's attracted to her, almost magnetic, and the fact that he has competition makes him want her more.

He gets out of the bedroom after knowing that Avery is no longer in the dressing room.

Turns out, Finn is already making his move on her. He sees them talking in the firepit and having a laugh, but he can't hear what they're talking about. Finn shortly leaves after kissing her on the hand.

So he's playing the romantic guy, Han reckons.

Avery once said that he likes bad boys and so he'll be it. Bad boys don't make it obvious that he likes her, they wait until they come around.

So Han decides that should be his game plan, sitting on the sofa and you know, waiting for Avery to come around.

HAN: I'm not worried about Asher so my game plan is to play it cool and see where it goes. She'll come to the right man... eventually [laughs]

After hours of no significant result, Han walks back inside to get a new place to hang out.

He decides to go to the bedroom, pushing the door with both hands only to walk into Asher and Avery cuddling on the bed.

Now he sees the flaw in his game plan, he slowly walks back out of the room as everything backfired to him.

When it's time for bed, he couldn't be happier.

Han dives into his pillow and takes a deep breath, blowing some steam off.

A moment later, he feels the bed quaking as you get on and playfully, put your body on top of him.

"We're like the twin bar ice cream," He grumbles as your body presses onto him.

His body shakes along with yours as you're laughing on top of him, then rolling yourself to the side and onto the bed next to him.

"How was your night?" You ask, playing with his dark hair.

"Average," he shortly answers.

"I'm asking about your night, not your genital size," you joke.

He chuckles before answering, "Then it's below average."

If there's anyone that makes this retreat bearable to him then it's you. He can share everything with you and what he likes the most about it is that he can seek comfort from you too.

Han scoots closer and puts his hand across your chest which you nicely welcomed. You're caressing his forearm with only your fingertips and it's relaxing him.

When the lights are out, you pull his arm and put it around you as you lie on your side with your back against his chest.

"Goodnight," you murmur.

He hesitates but with his mouth pressed close to you, he decides to kiss you on the top of your head.

"Goodnight," he murmurs back, snuggling his head on the crook of your neck.

HAN: I guess nice guys do finish last [laughs]

The bathroom is pretty much occupied by the two tall lovebirds, Rio and Mikaela.

You almost walk in on them applying sunblock on each other's bodies and slowly, walking back out of there. Stepping into the dressing room, you find Nya there with Avery who's busy putting her hair into a ponytail.

"Hello, babes," you greet them as you take a seat in your usual spot and decide to put on your sunscreen there when you usually put it on in the bathroom because it can get messy.

Mikaela joins in not long after and sits next to you, fixing her hair with a brush.

"Has anything been going on late at night?" Nya asks her since Mikaela and Rio turned up to their bed late last night.

"We held off pretty well, I guess," Mikaela answers with her half-moaning voice.

"Yeah, but has he been getting hard?" Nya asks again, being nosy as she is.

"We're pretty close," Mikaela answers with a cryptic smile.

You look at her with a dollop of sunscreen on your cheek, "Pretty close? What's that even mean?" You tease.

Before Mikaela can answer that, Lana butts in with her familiar chime, and everyone's heads turn to the cone sitting on the shelf.

"Uh-oh!" You gasp in surprise and awkwardly continue dabbing your cheeks with sunscreen.

"Girls," Lana calls out to everyone in the dressing room.

"Yeah?" Nya replies with a shocked smile.

"Please gather everyone in the bedroom," Lana orders.

You sense that Mikaela did something last night from the horror drawn on her face with her round eyes widening in slight shock.

Nya gets up from her chair but you haven't finished with your sunscreen yet.

"I'll catch up," you tell her.

You put on a sheer top over your bikini before heading to the bedroom and see that everyone is already there including Han.

He holds his hand out for you to take, gesturing for you to sit close to him at the end of your shared bed.

YOU: This can't be good news [scrunches nose]

Other than Mikaela, you notice another pair of guilty faces. No surprise if Nya broke another rule but also, you kind of guessed that Avery did something too, she keeps shaking her leg uncomfortably.

Lana chimes and the tension is already rising in the room.

"There have been breaches of the rules," Lana goes straight to business.

"Breaches?" Finn focuses on the plural terms that could tell how much money he'll be losing today.

As someone without a partner, you can relax since no one will be suspicious of you. You put your legs over Han's and rest your hand on his shoulder.

Heads are turning against each other but no one is saying anything.

"Mmh..." Avery lets out a low sigh.

You bet she did something and if yes, who did she do it with? You look at Han and wonder if he did what you told him to just go and get her.

"I'll be honest with you guys..." Asher speaks up.

There goes your answer. Avery did kiss but it's with Asher and you don't know why you feel some sort of relief on knowing it.

"I definitely lost some money last night," he pauses to scratch his head, "I pulled Avery aside and kissed her."

Avery shyly smiles and sputters her apology, "I'm–I am sorry, you guys."

Your eyes silently shift at Han and notice that he's not pleased to hear his love interest got kissed by someone else.

"This is what I wanted and I felt a genuine connection there," Asher adds.

What a way to prove that he wants to delve further into this relationship but Avery doesn't seem to be happy to hear his man declare that she is what he wanted.

"So sorry, guys," Asher concludes.

It would be stupid of you to hope that that's the only kiss that happened last night.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana says again and she won't stop until everyone comes clean.

You look at Nya and she's not looking at anyone. Peyton seems to have decided to keep denying it and staying quiet about it.

Mikaela sighs then closes her eyes, "Why don't you tell them, Rio," she says to the man next to her.

Rio licks his lips and opens his mouth, but words do not come out of it until a minute later.

"We kissed a couple of times last night," Rio confesses and pinches the bridge of his nose after.

"A couple?" Finn asks for confirmation.

You guess what he needs to know is how many kisses in numbers.

"Five times," Rio answers.

"Oh, my gosh!" Avery sighs while rubbing her temple.

That makes you sweat a little and you take your hand off of Han's shoulder to fiddle with the strap of your bikini, also because you sense that Han gets tensed beside you.

"I mean, I can tolerate one or two kisses but five?" You confront them and keep your tone calm to not trigger anyone.

It's not a genuine connection if you needed five kisses to convince you that you're emotionally connected so yeah, you doubt that Rio and Mikaela have it.

"If you had that genuine connection, what would you do?" Rio says in his defense.

"I don't know, maybe try a bit harder?" Han finally lets out an opinion with an insinuating tone, driven by the slight anger he gets from Avery and Asher's kiss.

"That's just a waste of money," Finn mutters from his bed and a deep sigh.

"Is that all, Lana?" You ask, wanting to get it over with.

"There was another breach of the rules," Lana shares.

You don't even hold yourself back from groaning and rolling your eyes. You didn't plan to get this mad but hearing these people kissing and spending money recklessly ticked you off.

"We'll have no money," Finn mutters again and collapses onto the bed.

"Why are you smiling, Peyton?" Asher asks.

Peyton is indeed smiling and looking calm for a guilty man, "I kissed Nya last night."

Sawyer raises her hand like she's in a classroom but that works to get everyone's attention, "Wait, I'm a little confused about it because you said you were going to pursue things with me," she drops a truth bomb out of nowhere.

Nya turns Peyton around to force him to look at her, "You said to me that you wanted me, not her," she spoils more rotten truth.

This whole thing turns into a she said, he said situation and you can only watch them, going back and forth, pointing fingers at each other.

"I hate being lied to," Sawyer mutters.

Peyton rubs his chin and concludes, "I never lied to you," he says to Sawyer.

Then he turns to Nya and tells her the same thing, "And I never lied to you."

Can't help it, you let out a stifled laugh because Peyton not only digging his own grave but also putting nails on his coffin.

The ones that benefited from this are Rio and Mikaela, the love triangle mess is taking the heat off of them.

"It's obviously not working," Nya ends things for good.

Thankfully, Lana takes control of the situation to deliver the bills.

"All of these rule breaks have made me decide to implement a stricter regime. The fines will now be doubled starting with these rule breaks."

Your jaw drops at the announcement and get dizzy thinking of how much those five kisses cost alone.

"These multiple rule breaks have cost the group $42,000," Lana updates.

You scoff at the amount of money spent on a few silly kisses and have to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

"The prize fund now stands at $155,000."

Everyone is just as gobsmacked by how much money has been lost from the prize and if everyone keeps doing it, all of you would likely go home with nothing.

YOU: We might as well pack our things now and go home [shrugs]

A week has passed and you start to feel that you're merely wasting time here.

Not much happened around here especially after Peyton and Nya's ship sank right after that messy fight. In the end, Peyton doesn't get either Nya or Sawyer and he deserves every bit of it.

The retreat is not only about couple growth but still... If only you had someone to try to make a connection with, you would enjoy this whole experience more.

You wake up in the morning, have a few cuddles with Han, and then everyone is moving on with their day. There's not much you can do here but you try to participate as much by not breaking the rules.

As if you have someone to do it with.

Avery joins you as you walk down to the beach to swim at the beach. With the low tide, you can sit on the beach with her to cool down after swimming.

"Avery baby, tell me, how are things with Asher?" You ask out of curiosity.

What Asher did that day, defending her and openly telling everyone how he feels about her, you expect her to be swooned if not smitten.

But from what you've been seeing, it seems like things have cooled down between them.

"To be honest, I don't know..." she is just as confused as you.

"But out of all the three boys, you like him right?" You try to make it simple for her.

"Yeah, I like Asher because he's great, he made the first move and got an edge to him..." she explains.

You nod and support your chin with the back of your hand, "What he did that day, I think that's very endearing of him," you give her your honest opinion just in case she needs an assurance from someone outside that relationship.

"Yeah, he was like... expressed his feelings and telling everyone how he feels about me," Her facial expression gradually turns sour as you sense a 'but' coming from her small mouth.

"But I just don't like when people are like that to me," she says with a repulsed expression.

"I get really..." she ends the sentence with a groan.

The problem with Avery is that she doesn't know what she wants. Other than that, now you know why Asher flirted with you this morning but knowing that he initially likes Avery makes you feel like you're his backup plan.

Here's the thing about you, you don't like being a second choice.

YOU: You know what, Lana? I think we need more dicks in the villa [laughs]

Han feels like his breakfast is about to come up as he hears the sound of that melodic chime. He hears it often enough yet he feels even more anxious the more he hears it.

"Please be good news," Han mutters next to you.

You put your hand on his thigh, playing with a lint of his swimming trunk.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets.

He turns his head at the same time you look at him, sending both of you burst into laughter.

"Here we go," Asher mutters with a nervous sigh.

"To further aid your personal growth, you must learn to resist your urges."

That catches his interest but also makes his heart start to beat faster. Lana is unpredictable and Han hates that.

"I have arranged two dates."

That makes some people relax, at least, it's not about losing more money from the prize fund. Han, personally, has not yet recovered from losing a quarter of the prize money.

"Both with new arrivals," Lana finishes her sentence.

Other than Rio and Mikaela, everyone else seems to be excited about this. New guests mean new chances to make a connection.

"I have allowed the new arrivals to select who they want to ask out on their date."

Han is having mixed feelings about this. He knows that Avery is no longer with Asher but he's slowly losing his interest in her. Maybe the new arrivals can help him move on.

"The first new arrival is... Gwen."

So it's a girl, well, Han can do something about this Gwen. He feels hopeful once again and maybe this time, triumph will be his.

"Gwen has chosen... Rio to be her date."

All eyes are on Mikaela as she tries so hard to remain calm about this but everyone knows that she's fuming inside.

"You seem happy, Rio," Asher teases him which Rio coyly responds with a shrug.

"And date number two will be with Fabian."

His head turns as he hears hears you cooing in wonder, "He sounds exotic," you mutter.

Nya is the most excited one and it's probably because she needs to show Peyton that he's got nothing on her anymore.

"Fabian has chosen... Nya to be his date."

Han doesn't know why he feels glad knowing that this new guy didn't choose you but does that make him the bad guy? He doesn't think so.

"Rio and Nya, you may leave to get ready for the date," Lana orders.

He hasn't seen the new arrivals yet but he can imagine the amount of drama he'll witness later with Rio going on a date with the new girl.

HAN: The new arrivals, uh... they can't be ugly, right Lana? [Snickers]

The first one to return from the date is Nya and she's bringing a man who's taller than Rio and talks in a French accent.

Han can see that Nya is already all over him and he glances at Peyton who ends up with no one but his own player ass. He just knew that Peyton had it coming for him since that game night when he boldly kissed two girls.

He grabs his first drink of the day with the staff only allowed every contest to take three drinks max and when he gets back to the terrace, he sees a gorgeous girl with blond hair.

Rio is introducing the girl around while Mikaela is intensely watching him from the cabana with furrowed brows and eyes filled with fiery glints like a hawk.

When it comes to his turn, he doesn't bother making a good first impression.

"Han," he simply tells her his name.

"I'm Gwen, hi," she introduces herself.

With the few inches he doesn't have, Gwen can easily put her arm around him for a quick hug, "Nice to meet you!"

Gwen is undeniably beautiful, anyone who looks at her would agree with him. Surprisingly, he's not as excited as he imagined he would be.

Well, the last thing he wants to do is compete to win a girl over and he doesn't want to entertain the idea that Gwen would take a liking to him.

Despite all that, Rio and Mikaela remain strong. Everyone is staying on the same bed and because Nya and Sawyer refuse to sleep with Peyton, he has to share the bed with Finn.

Han feels good knowing that he doesn't have to deal with such drama, he walks to his bed and does not hesitate to cuddle you.

"Hi, sexy bunny," he mutters close to your ear.

The two of you have this inside joke of calling each other silly, childish pet names and yesterday, you called him

'tater tot' and he laughs whenever he recalls it.

"Hi, bubble butt," you reply.

He laughs at that and playfully bites at your shoulder to get back at you. Somehow, the only one he can comfortably share his space with is you and he realizes how grateful he should be for your presence.

"Goodnight, everyone," Avery says while blowing kisses to everyone.

Han tickles your neck with his nose and purposely, breathes into your ear, "Goodnight!"

You giggle in reaction to his tickling breath, "Night!"

He presses a soft, lingering kiss on your head and that's how he ends his day on a sweet note.

HAN: I wasn't attracted to her but now I feel bad for not giving her any attention.

"It's like working out with Zeus, bro!" Han says, watching Rio working out non-stop while he's sitting on the mat, drenched in sweat for doing not even half of the workout Rio is doing.

Rio carefully lowers down the heavy dumbbells and reorganizes his breath as he takes a break.

"So, are you still chasing Avery?" Rio asks.

Han sucks water out of the bottle, then licks his lips before answering him, "Honestly speaking, I'm losing interest," he answers.

He knows that it'll be different to everyone but seeing what happened to her and Asher, there's a chance that things would likely end up the same.

He's tired of chasing and she keeps hanging up on him, "I think Avery enjoys the thrill, the chase..." he adds while running out of breath.

"Yeah, I think so too," Rio agrees with him.

He then lies down on his back and starts doing sit-ups as if his abs aren't as hard as rock already.

"What about that new girl then?"

"Gwen?"

"Yep, she's pretty," Rio says, being the one who went on a date with her.

"Are you going to make a move on her?"

Han caught Asher making the eyes with Gwen last night and he's not that interested to even try.

Looking at Rio tirelessly working out, he feels motivated to continue and picks up dumbbells.

"You know, I'm feeling it more with my bed partner," Han honestly says.

"I know you like her," Rio says with a glare at him.

He stops doing sit-ups and points at Han, "You just don't want to admit it."

Han has to pause on lifting his dumbbells to continue talking. He suddenly gets flustered because that's true, he keeps denying that there's something more between him and you.

"You two vibe really well," Rio says and he has never seen him being this earnest.

Han stops working out altogether and drops the dumbbells on the floor, "it's because Avery is so my type," he simply defends himself.

"But uh..." he pauses to catch a breath.

"But when I spend time with her, it's... natural," he explains and he doesn't care if that doesn't make sense to Rio, "It's so much fun."

Han breaks down on the floor and wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, "I overlooked her because she doesn't look like my type."

Rio nods and intently listens to him speak.

"As soon as I saw Gwen last night, I was like... I still prefer her," he admits.

Han doesn't know why he can easily share his feelings with Rio, probably because he feels like a brother to him. Rio taps his shoulder hard enough that it launches him forward.

"You guys are cute together, and get along well, I don't see why you shouldn't try it, man!" He looks so annoyed and eager to see it happen.

Han laughs at that but he wishes he could easily share his feelings like this to you.

HAN: Maybe I should open up and accept how I'm feeling rather than keep seeking what's not there.

The mud is drying as you're walking back to the villa after having a girls-only workshop at the beach.

You share the shower with Sawyer to wash off the dried mud and waste no time getting ready for a party Lana throws to welcome the new arrivals.

The dressing room is crowded so you grab your make-up pouch to do it in the bathroom and you can do the hair later when it's less crowded in there.

For now, you're brushing your wet hair to the back while looking at your reflection in the mirror.

As you're about to apply moisturizer, you see Han walking into the bathroom and the first thing you see is that gummy smile of his.

"Hi, stud muffin," you playfully call him.

He would usually laugh at the pet names you called him but he only smiles in response, the kind that you've never seen on him.

"What's up?" You ask in wonder.

He doesn't say anything but leans against the sink facing you, looking at you with a cryptic smile dancing on his face.

He finally does something, walking up to you and placing his hands on each side of your waist. Slowly, he brings his mouth to your ear and whispers, "I missed you."

You reflexively burst into waves of laughter and think that he's just playing with you.

"I'm getting concerned," you tell him with a nervous laugh.

Han is also laughing and then he leans in to whisper again, "I miss you when you're not around."

You're giggling because the last thing you expect is to hear him saying that he missed you even though you've only been apart from each other for about three hours.

"Aww..." you coo at him, laughing the second your eyes meet in a gaze.

He cups your jaw then tilts your head, and you close your eyes in reflex. Instead of what you thought it would be, he softly whispers.

"I think I like you."

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peachdues · 1 year ago

Text

Phantasmagoria (Part I)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader, Modern AU

A/N: it's time. This one is very personal to me, and I've drawn a lot upon my own life/experiences to write this. I hope it lives up to expectations, but in case it doesn't, remember there is still a part two and a part three (so more smut/angst/feelings).

Massive TW: grief, loss of parent to cancer, canon character death (in non-canon way), drug and alcohol abuse, anger, unhealthy coping mechanisms galore.

CW: 10.5k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), mildly dubious consent (Reader doesn't tell Sanemi it's her first time, and there's a question whether he would've done it); both Sanemi and Reader are under the influence. Creampie, lots of cursing, angst.

For the playlist, listen here.

Without further ado!

Speak in tongues / I don't even recognize your face / mirror on the wall / tell me all the ways to stay away

phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a – an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.

Once upon a time, as a little girl, she’d believed love was pretty; she imagined it would be soft, pink, and shiny and make her feel warm and pretty in return.

As an adult, she’d come to realize that love wasn’t pretty at all; it was cold, lonely, and painful.

Love was dull and harsh and all-consuming.

Love was black.

For Y/N, loving Sanemi Shinazugawa was like falling into one of the black holes she’d learned about in science class as a child. It was infinite and empty and there was no space for anything but the all-consuming void that promised to rip her apart and condemn her to oblivion.

This love had taken her naïve, romantic heart to chew up and spit back out, leaving her only with a misshapen lump held together by the leftover sinew of her hopes and dreams.

Y/N believed her love for Sanemi would be the death of her. It was a poison that had seeped into her veins and was slowly rotting her from the inside out. She knew it was stupid to love someone who would not and could not love her back, but she hadn’t yet figured out a way to stop.

And since she could not stop loving him, she could only resign herself to its toxicity until it killed her for good.

—————————————————————————

Summer had ended, and Y/N was dreading having to return to Ubayashiki University. Dreading it because she’d spent the entirety of the summer back in her – their – hometown, caring for her ailing mother, and that isolation had meant she didn’t have to wake up every day with a pit in her stomach at the thought of running into him. But then her mother had finally succumbed to her illness a week prior, and Y/N was now forced to carry on in the world as though hers had not just been blown apart.

Looking back, Genya’s death had marked the end for a lot of things, including the once-irreverent trio that had been Y/N, Kyojuro, and Sanemi.

They had been friends – the best of friends, really, since pre-school, in large part because of their parents. Kyojuro, as warm and as vibrant as the sun, had been their grounding force, always wise beyond his years but quick to laugh. Then there was Sanemi, and though he could be prone to his episodes of anger, he was a staunch, loyal defender of his friends and would do anything if it meant making them smile. Last, there had been Y/N, and she’d been so happy to just love her boys and be loved by them. She’d always felt invincible with them by her side, ready to take on the world, together.

And for a while, they did.

Their friendship withstood even the toughest of trials. It lasted through the death of Kyojuro’s mother and the subsequent decline of his father, so unable to cope that he could not function without the bitter sting of alcohol to soothe the pain of Rukka’s absence. Their friendship had even endured the deaths of both Sanemi’s and Genya’s parents at the hands of a drunk driver, the shrapnel from the crash permanently scarring both of the boys’ faces, though Sanemi had born the worst of it.

But because they’d had one another, they’d made it through. Y/N’s own mother, though a single parent, took in both Shinazugawa boys until the state placed them in a home, though that rarely stopped Sanemi from frequenting Y/N’s house after school. Even Kyojuro grew to be a constant fixture around her house, drawn to the warmth and love her mother showed both boys as if they were her own.

And then they all grew up, and they were set to begin their first year of university at Ubaya-U come the fall. The three of them had been eager to set out into the world, to grab at any and all opportunities that arose, and for each of them to become great in their own right.

But not two weeks into the fall semester, Sanemi received the phone call that had brought his world crashing down around him. Genya, his beloved, cherished younger brother, had been shot dead outside of their foster home, killed by some kid in retaliation for some fight Genya hadn’t picked.

Y/N hadn’t been with him when he received the news, instead only getting a text from Kyojuro to getthefuckoverhereNOW. She’d bolted from her class and ran to the boys’ dorm across campus. She’d found Sanemi, curled into a ball on the floor beneath a hole he’d punched into the drywall, sobbing, and she hadn’t known what else to do but hold him along with Kyojuro while her own tears threatened to blind her.

Hours later, when Sanemi realized he would have to return to their hometown to make final arrangements, he’d asked Y/N to accompany him to the train station. Kyojuro would have gone as well, but he’d been unable to call off from work, and so the three had planned for Y/N to return with him the next day, as she was the only one between the three of them with a car on campus.

Of course, Y/N agreed to drive Sanemi to the train station, because she couldn’t possibly imagine leaving him alone. He’d looked so lost, so broken, and she would’ve done anything, anything at all, to lessen the weight on his shoulders.

Because she loved him, and she’d loved him for years, and love meant giving everything you had, everything you were to the other, especially in times of need. So she agreed, and though he’d been unable to speak, Sanemi had rested his head on her shoulder in silent gratitude.

She’d not known that, in her efforts to love and support him at his lowest, she would doom their group’s entire dynamic.

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have said anything. It was the wrong time, the wrong way to tell him what was in her heart, and she’d known that; but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She’d been unable to stop the way her heart clenched as she walked him towards the platform at Amane Station, his head hung low and his eyes rimmed red from hours of crying. It hurt her to see him in such pain, hurt so badly that she’d been desperate to alleviate it in any way she could. She’d thought it would have been enough to hug him, to give him a reassuring squeeze and a promise that she and Kyo would be back home the following morning and that he wouldn’t be alone.

But then, before she could stop them, those cursed words had fallen from her lips and ruined her, ruined everything.

I love you, Sanemi. With all my heart.

As soon as she’d heard herself say it, she’d known she’d fucked up. She knew, as Sanemi stiffened in her embrace and pulled away from her, that she’d indelibly altered things between them, and that she could never take those words back. And she’d known, the moment she saw the cold, bewildered look in his eyes, so angry it made her stomach drop, that he neither returned nor wanted her love.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He snapped, stepping back from her, creating a chasm between them that could not be bridged.

His train had finally arrived, and he’d stormed away from her, turned his back to her, and refused to look back as he boarded the car. She’d stayed behind, standing there amidst a throng of travelers and their families, for a long while, tears slipping hot and fast down her cheeks until the salt burned permanent tracks into her skin.

It hadn’t mattered that Kyojuro had called her later, Sanemi having filled him in on what happened, what she’d done, to tell her not to worry; that Sanemi had just been frustrated and overwhelmed, and that all would be well between them after the funeral.

Kyojuro lied. Sanemi hadn’t so much as looked her way the entire time she and Kyo were with him during his brother’s funeral and had refused to even acknowledge her small greeting. Y/N understood he was going through the worst pain imaginable, and she’d known he was angry because she’d dumped her feelings on him when he’d been in no place to receive them, but his rejection still fucking hurt.

Worse than his rejection had been his total ignorance of her, his obstinate refusal to so much as acknowledge her existence. Y/N hadn’t been able to understand how he could be so angry with her to not even treat her like a person, to pretend as though they hadn’t been friends – best friends – since they were in diapers.

Y/N had wanted to give him space, however, and wanted herself to stop loving him so things could one day go back to how they’d been, so she started to distance herself from Sanemi, believing she would still have Kyojuro, her sun, to lean on if she needed it.

But she’d been wrong, so very wrong. Because Kyojuro had defended Sanemi with a not-so-gentle reminder that ‘he’s dealing with a lot right now,’ which only fractured her heart even more because Kyojuro had taken a side and it hadn’t been hers.

Thus, Y/N was left to love them both at a distance, and she was forced to watch them carry on their friendship without her, even though they’d all come to Ubaya-U together and even though her exile from the group meant that Y/N had no friends at all.

So, her first semester at university, the semester she’d dreamed would be life-changing and exciting, became a cacophony of sobs smothered into her pillow at night so her roommate wouldn’t hear her winking out like a dying star. And she had no friends, because her best friend didn’t think she was his, and she couldn’t stop loving a boy who didn’t want to love her back.

—————————————————————————

Her mom got sick in the spring of her first year. Initially, it had been a good prognosis. Y/N somehow managed to balance her busy, pre-law class load with her mother’s care, fluidly alternating between office hours and hospital appointments. But no friends meant she’d had no one to talk to, no one to lean on in those moments when her legs gave out and sobs wracked her body because she’d been so fucking scared of losing her mom. But she’d been kept busy enough to be able to squash that loneliness down and ignore it like her boys had ignored her, and so, she’d pushed through.

By the time summer had come, however, things had grown exponentially worse. Several nights ended in Y/N having to call an ambulance to rush to her home, because her mom had fallen and Y/N wasn’t strong enough to lift her by herself, and there hadn’t been anyone else she could call.

There had been a few times – maybe two or three – when she’d passed Kyojuro on the street, home briefly to check on his little brother, and the fiery blonde would make a face like he wanted to say something like he wanted to talk to her or care about her, but Y/N would turn and run before he had the chance.

She never saw Sanemi, though that hadn’t surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be able to stomach being back home so soon after Genya.

Her mother’s condition yo-yoed throughout the summer and into the early fall of her second year of university. Just when it finally seemed as though things were looking up for her mother, when she was just days from her last treatment, she died.

No one had been there to hold her – to comfort her – when Y/N began wailing as her mother’s chest rose for the last time and did not go back down.

Her mother had died, and Y/N had been left utterly and completely alone.

Her mother’s funeral had taken place on a sunny October day, the autumn air cool and crisp as an apple. She’d stood beside her mother’s casket as stranger after stranger passed, offering their condolences and personal anecdotes of her mother’s kindness.

Not once had she seen a familiar face. Not once had either of her boys made an appearance, not even for the woman who had loved them as her own.

She’d returned to campus a few days later, and because the universe had decided she’d not suffered nearly enough for some unknown crime, she ran into him. By the cruelest twist of fate, Sanemi decided to cross the street opposite her at the same time, and what was left of her heart skipped several beats.

For all her efforts to put distance between them, she still loved him, and it was a realization so bitter she thought she would start dry heaving right there on the pavement. She tried to duck her head, to avoid catching his attention, but the crosswalk light changed, and he was suddenly walking towards her, and she couldn’t help but chance a glance up.

Lilac eyes collided with her own, and Y/N thought the world was about to open beneath her and swallow her whole.

His gaze lingered for a touch longer than normal for a stranger, and Y/N feared he’d be able to see the scars from her tears on her face or see how her heart still bore the tattoo of his name. But then he blinked, and she took the chance to vanish among the throng of students, dashing back to her dorm before the tears could spill down her cheeks once more.

She barely made it to her room before her legs gave out from under her, her sobs choking from her throat.

She wished her mother had taken her with her.

—————————————————————————

It was fitting that Y/N met the personification of spring at the start of the spring semester.

Her name was Mitsuri, and Y/N sat next to her in her 8:00 AM class. The girl was so bubbly and bright that it was difficult, even for the drab Y/N to resist striking up a conversation with her. Mitsuri was a streak of color that bloomed across Y/N’s eternal gray sky, with her exotic pink and green hair and permanent blush. It took only a few weeks, but Mitsuri and Y/N became the best of friends, and Y/N could not get over how good it felt to have one of those again.

Mitsuri and Y/N began to do everything together, and bit by bit, Y/N felt herself smiling more, laughing as her friend flirted with every him, her, and them who crossed their path. They figured out they shared nearly every class together, and when they weren’t furiously taking notes during their lectures, they were studying together in small corners around campus, dreaming of what was to come after exams and graduation in a year and a half.

Her pink-haired friend helped Y/N feel confident again, like a person. Mitsuri helped bring Y/N back out of the shell she’d so carefully crafted in the wake of her abandonment, and she began to feel a little lighter, a little more buoyant thanks to the happy, beautiful girl at her side.

That wasn’t to say Mitsuri didn’t have her own demons – she very much did. At night, Mitsuri and Y/N push their beds together in the latter’s dorm (Y/N’s first roommate had long since moved out). There, huddled together under the mess of blankets and pillows, they would whisper the names of their heartache with one another – Sanemi and Obanai – and they comforted each other, wiping their tears away with soft promises that as long as they had one another, they would be okay.

By March, Mitsuri convinced Y/N to go clubbing with her. Y/N was hesitant until she looked in the mirror after her friend had spent the evening primping her and turning her into a woman Y/N scarcely recognized in the mirror. Her friend had dressed her in a short, emerald green dress that hugged every curve just right, a teasing slit going high up on her left thigh. Y/N’s hair had been slicked back into a high ponytail that swung tantalizingly between her shoulder blades. Her cleavage was a bit more exposed in the pinkette’s dress than Y/N was accustomed to, but damn if she didn’t look downright sumptuous.

Y/N was determined to let loose, to not think about the black stain on her heart that was him, and so she greedily accepted Mitsuri’s hand as the two braved the chilly, early spring air. Mitsuri pulled her through the doors of the club -- the Kizuki Moon Lounge -- and for the first time in a year and a half, she felt alive.

Beneath the strobe of multi-colored lights, amidst the pulsing bass of the techno-music threatening to rupture her eardrums, Y/N had found herself anew; no longer was she the sad, morose girl who barely existed. Under Mitsuri’s care, Y/N transformed into a raving princess, who owned the sticky floor of the Kizuki’s club each time she and her friend traipsed onto it in their too-high heels, wearing too-short dresses and clutching too-strong drinks in their greedy hands.

In April, Mitsuri introduced her to Shinobu, a wisp of a pharmacology student who was every bit as beautiful as she was terrifying, though Y/N could not exactly place why the petite girl could scare off any ill-intentioned man that tried to swagger over to them, given her ever-present, sugary-sweet smile.

She also met three girls – Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma – who were beautiful and fun-loving and rounded out the newly-formed friend group with their fire-and-ice personalities.

First, there was Hinatsuru – quieter, but still capable of throwing it back and having a grand old time, especially once her drink of choice (rum and Coke) had the opportunity to work its way through her blood. A pretty blush was always the telltale sign that Hina was ready to jump up on a table and captivate anyone who had the pleasure of watching her dance.

Next, there was Makio, brash and bold, but fiercely loyal. Some asshole had made the mistake of snapping the thong-like top of Mitsuri’s skirt once and found his head shoved down on the table, his arm pulled back in a self-defense maneuver as the dark-haired beauty threatened to wrench the man’s offending arm from its socket.

Finally, there was Suma, who often clung to the other two like a lost child, but once she gained her confidence, would flirt with absolutely anything and everything that moved, with a sultry giggle and a bat of her pretty eyes. Within only twenty minutes of knowing her, Suma had convinced Y/N to make out with her, the beautiful girl tasting like cotton candy and summertime as their tongues lazily danced together beneath the throb of the club lights.

With her new group of girlfriends, Y/N began to lose herself to the alluring beck and call of Ubayashiki’s local rave scene, her nights quickly becoming defined by sticky drinks and jeweled makeup, and the skimpy outfits Mitsuri always shoved her into. But she could not find it in her heart to care, because for once, her mind was on something else that didn’t involve the smell of pine, or lavender eyes, or the feeling of a home that no longer existed.

But even though the sour drinks made her feel so warm and vibrant while she danced, there were still moments when clarity hit and she missed them.

She missed the way Kyojuro’s strong arm would drape around her shoulders, heavy and warm, and how his embrace always felt like home, his deep laugh infectious.

She missed the way Sanemi would pretend to hug her unwillingly but would leave his hands lingering on her back or her waist once she moved to pull away, a small smirk tugging on the corners of his tantalizing mouth. She missed the smell of his cologne, woodsy and clean, as he would lean in close to her face to tease her until she blushed.

She missed them so much that the sharp sting of alcohol eventually stopped dulling the pulsing ache in the cavity where her heart once beat. No matter how many shots, no matter how many sticky acid drinks she tossed back, that gnawing in her chest would not cease.

Then, one night, Shinobu pressed a small, lilac pill into her hand, and everything changed.

Initially, Y/N was apprehensive, because the pill perfectly matched the hue of the eyes of the person she wanted to forget most. But Shinobu promised her that this pill she’d created in a lab for school – Wisteria – will have her feeling like a kid on Christmas, and that promise, coupled with a flutter of Shinobu’s pretty eyelashes made Y/N cave.

At first, she felt nothing, no impact beyond the slight buzz provided by the round of shots she’d done upon first arriving at the Kizuki. But then, as Mitsuri twirled her beneath the flashing lights of pink and yellow, Y/N’s world exploded with a vibrance she’d neither seen nor felt in nearly two years. Everything, all at once, became magical; effervescent; infinite.

The Wisteria seeped into her veins and made her feel like Christmas lights had been implanted under her skin. Y/N felt shiny and beautiful and sparkly under the combined effect of Shinobu’s magical concoction and the balancing burn of her tequila, and with her new group of girlfriends flanking her side as they bumped to and ground against one another to the beat of the music, Y/N felt almost like she did when it was just her and her boys. Only now, Y/N felt even better, because, with her girls, she could ignore the way the black in her heart was slowly beginning to fester, even if that meant Y/N was beginning to feel more and more numb with each passing rendezvous at the club.

Because that numbness meant that at least she couldn’t feel the acrid bite of her unrequited love for him, and that was what she wanted all along, right?

—————————————————————————

(May)

Of course, Y/N should’ve known she couldn’t stay light and resplendent and numb in her neon and black light paradise forever. Because unfortunately, despite the large student body at Ubaya-U, her new friend group just has to intermingle with them.

Really, it was all Shinobu’s fault. Towards the end of the semester, Shinobu began dating a quiet, withdrawn boy named Giyuu, who happened to be good friends with the man that Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma all have a thing for – Tengen.

Tengen was a recent graduate of Ubaya-U, and an even more recent hire at the local police department, his imposing size and discerning ears a coveted asset amongst the group of detectives who’d scouted him out. Having someone affiliated with the local police be part of their group ended up being a huge advantage to them, however, given the general inclination for people to look the other way whenever Shinobu began dealing her Wisteria in the secluded corners of the Kizuki’s lounge.

What was not an advantage, however, were Tengen’s friends, because Tengen, apparently, had become best fucking friends with Kyojuro, and by default, him.

Y/N stood awkwardly between Mitsuri and Shinobu as the latter presented her group of girlfriends to the new, rag-tag medley of boys that now included the very two Y/N had gone to great lengths to avoid. She tried to ignore the burning weight of both boys’ stares as Y/N finally introduced herself to Shinobu’s new boy toy. Only when she could not possibly avoid them any longer, not without raising questions, did Y/N finally allow herself to turn to them.

“Y/N!” Kyojuro looked so surprised to see her and yet, so overjoyed that it didn’t feel fair.

Y/N could tell by the jerky way the blonde’s arms twitched towards her that he’d been about to envelop her in one of his signature bear hugs, but he’d hesitated, apparently uncertain whether he was still permitted to do so.

Ultimately, Kyojuro’s elation at seeing her once again won over his doubt, and he pulled her in tightly against his chest, his arms squeezing her with a security she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. For the briefest moment, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to thaw, ever so slightly, in the fierce warmth of her friend’s embrace.

It was a mistake; the moment she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d felt the damning prickle of tears behind her eyelids, and an uncomfortable lump had begun to take form in her throat. So with more reluctance than Y/N wanted to acknowledge she felt, she stepped away from Kyojuro, hoping that the dim lights of the club concealed the mist clouding her eyes.

Unfortunately, the end of Y/N’s reunion with her former, fiery friend meant there were no more obstacles, no more distractions, between her and the white-haired, scar-speckled man who gazed at her with an intensity that, to her annoyance, still made her want to squirm.

And as his eyes bore into her, she chanted over and over in her mind for him not to say it, to not let her name fall from his lips, because she could not bear to hear it. It would’ve been easier, so much easier, if he simply pretended like she didn’t exist, because then she could go on pretending like she wasn’t walking around without a heart; like he hadn’t been carrying it with him even all these months later.

His eyes did not match the smirk he had as he said her name, but it still took everything Y/N had not to fold right there.

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him know that he still held any power over her, and so she merely raised an eyebrow at him and smirked back, challenging him.

“Sanemi.”

—————————————————————————

“’Sanemi’ is your name when I’m mad at you,” Y/N warned him, tapping his knuckles with the spoon she used to stir the cake batter. “Otherwise, you’re just ‘Nemi.’”

Sanemi smirked at her, sticking his finger back into the bowl to swipe another glob of cake batter as Y/N mixed Kyojuro’s birthday cake together. “And what about when I’m being annoying?”

Y/N flicked a bit of batter at him, nailing him perfectly on his nose with the chocolate mixture. “Asshole seems the most appropriate.” She squatted down to pull a baking pan out from below her mother’s stove. “Did you remember to get the candles?”

The grocery bag crinkled as her white-haired best friend shook it, the box of candles within jostling. “Sixty-one candles for the sixty-one-year-old man,” Sanemi said proudly.

“Haha,” Y/N mocked, though she swiped the bag from his hand to check to ensure he’d actually bought sixteen and not, as he claimed, sixty-one candles. “I’m impressed. It seems you are capable of following directions.”

Sanemi leaned across the counter and peered up into her face, that damn smirk of his widening as he saw the faint blush creep across her cheeks. “I always follow your directions, Y/N.” He said lowly, raising a finger to wipe a speck of cake batter from her cheek.

“Hardly,” Y/N scoffed, using the need to get Kyojuro’s cake in the oven as an excuse to turn away from him and hide her warming face. “I think you prefer malicious compliance.”

“You wound me!” Sanemi protested, splaying across her mother’s counter in mock-injury. “When have I ever not followed your instructions with a smile on my face?”

Y/N turned back to him with a teasing grin. “’Nemi, since when do you ever smile?”

—————————————————————————

Shinobu’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, a smile forming on her face even as Mitsuri tugged pleadingly at her hand. “Do you two know each other?”

Sanemi said “yes” at the same time Y/N said “no,” and the former’s head snapped to Y/N’s face, who fought to keep her features neutral and cool. “Not anymore, anyways.” She clarified though she refused to acknowledge the way Sanemi flinched in response.

Shinobu looked between them again, her smile fading to something more pensive. Kyojuro only continued to watch Y/N, his expression sad and so very out of place in this castle of infinite pleasure and fun, and Y/N found herself desperate to escape it – to escape them.

Suma, the gods’ gift to the universe, interrupted the tense moment with her arrival, and she produced a small baggie of those lilac pills that promised Y/N’s escape. Y/N could feel both Kyojuro and Sanemi gawking at her as Suma pulled her in close, the little lilac pill already dissolving on her tongue, and kissed her, as they’d done so many times before.

When the raven-haired girl pulled away with a giggle on her lips, Y/N looked back to her former friends and held her tongue out, Suma’s pill now almost completely dissolved in her mouth, and she winked at them. Let them realize that their Y/N was long-gone, buried alongside the mother whose death they refused to acknowledge.

Suma offered the newcomers a pill each, and Y/N was surprised that both accepted. Kyojuro hesitated more than the ivory-haired man next to him, who held Y/N’s eyes as he placed the little tablet on his own wicked tongue, an answer to her earlier challenge. Y/N grimaced at the idea that Sanemi was willing to play along in this little game, willing to impose upon her paradise if it meant torturing her a little more.

So Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulders and turned her back to him, letting Suma and then Makio, tug her back into the crush of people on the dance floor to twirl and grind to the music, as both boys stared after her and she let herself be lost to them once more.

—————————————————————————

He found her the following Friday, as she waited against the bar for her drink.

“And where have you been hidin’ all this time?” Y/N fought the shiver that threatened to lick up her spine at the sound of that cursed, gravelly voice that had always made her weak at the knees.

But Y/N hadn’t spent the last twenty months learning how to keep off of Sanemi Shinazugawa’s radar for nothing, hadn’t learned to keep her grief and rage and pain locked deep inside the empty cavern of her chest, just to crumble under the intensity of that lilac stare.

Y/N threw her head back to swallow the shot of tequila the bartender had placed in front of her before turning to face him. Sanemi looked every bit the simpering, cocky asshole she’d always known him to be, leaning up against the sticky wood of the bar, one fist resting idly under his cheek as he watched her.

She met his gaze evenly, shoulders loose with a relaxedness that she didn’t feel. “I’ve been right here,” she replied smoothly.

Sanemi shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at her. “Nah, you haven’t,” he downed his own shot of vodka before returning his eyes to her, looking her over in consideration. “Though, I guess it would’ve been hard to know it was you anyways.”

Y/N bristled at the comment but kept her voice light. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Sanemi watched her carefully for a moment, though his eyebrows furrowed, as though he was struggling to choose his words. “I just wouldn’t have expected to see you in a place like this.” He decided, after a moment, a frown tugging at the corners of his sinful mouth.

It was Y/N’s turn to smirk. “That would assume you knew me at all to begin with,” she challenged, motioning to the bartender for another shot.

Something tightened in Sanemi’s eyes as he held her gaze, and it clenched the knot of unease that had balled in her stomach. “I did, once.”

Y/N kept her face impassive. “Maybe, as a girl.” She accepted her second shot from the bartender and brought it to her lips, biting down on a wince as the sharp burn of the cheap liquid slid down her throat. “But not as a woman.”

Though she did not show it, his words struck a wound deep within her that she’d not realized still festered; because, as hard as she tried to pretend that the man beside her was a mere stranger, his words reminded her of the harsh truth.

She was still in love with him; had been, ever since she’d learned what love meant.

A shadow flashed across his face before disappearing, that insufferable smirk sliding onto his face once more. “I guess you’re right; a girl doesn’t wear a dress like that.” Sanemi purred.

Y/N fluttered her eyelashes at him, a foreign boldness taking over her mind even as the echo of her heart begged her to flee. “Do you like what you see, Sanemi?”

Her former friend’s answering grin was wolfish. “I’ve always liked what I’ve seen of you, Y/N,” he grabbed her last shot from her hand, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he tipped the tequila back easily down his throat. “You just always seem to disappear before I have a chance to properly appreciate you.”

Y/N knew she should run away from him, and fast, but her hand betrayed her as it reached up to brush a bit of confetti from his hair that lingered from earlier. She nearly hummed in satisfaction at the way Sanemi’s breath hitched in his throat as she drew close, her fingers just barely grazing the skin of his forehead.

“Guess you’ll have to catch me.” Was her only response, before Y/N departed for the dance floor and her friends once more.

Sanemi’s eyes remained locked on her the entire night.

————————————————————————

The days blurred into weeks, as Y/N and Sanemi’s new relationship took form.

The convergence of their friend groups was inevitable, though Y/N resented it; but now, they all went out as a unit, rather than as two separate groups which just so happened to run into one another, and it annoyed Y/N to no end.

More annoying was the fact that Sanemi seemed as willing to partake in the sacred ritual of taking Shinobu’s precious Wisteria with them, though he seemed to do it less out of a desire to feel like the flashing strobe lights of the club and more so because he wanted to get on Y/N’s nerves.

“Drugs are bad for your health, y’know,” that damnable gravelly voice snapped her attention away from the Wisteria that sat in Shinobu’s palm.

Sanemi’s shoulder bumped into hers as he came to stand beside her in a darkened corner of the Kizuki’s seating lounge, out of sight from prying eyes as Shinobu dispersed her latest batch of tiny purple pills, a smirk on his lips and a challenge in his eyes.

Y/N scoffed, reaching to take the small offering from her friend’s hand. “And so is that vodka you keep slugging back.” Y/N’s fingers were about to close around the Wisteria when Sanemi plucked it from the dark-haired girl’s hand, a cry of indignation squeaking past Y/N’s lips.

Sanemi held the pill teasingly in front of her mouth as Y/N glowered up at him. “Open up,” he ordered, pinching her key to paradise between his thumb and index finger.

Eyes locked with his, Y/N slowly let her lips part and held out her tongue. Sanemi leaned forward, taking her jaw in his free hand as he placed the small tablet on her tongue with the other.

“Good girl,” he murmured, eyes lowering to her mouth as he watched her, hungrily.

As she accepted the Wisteria from him, Y/N let her tongue flick out and graze against his skin, dragging it lightly up the calloused edge of his index finger before she closed her mouth, letting the tablet dissolve on her tongue. Sanemi exhaled harshly through his nose, his hand gripping her chin possessively as he stared down at her mouth, and Y/N thought for a moment that he was about to give in right there and kiss her.

At the last moment, Kyojuro clapped him on the shoulder as he returned from the bar, and the spell was broken. Y/N blushed slightly as she turned back to Shinobu who made no secret of her raised eyebrow at the exchange between the two former friends.

Later, as she broke away from her friends dancing on the floor, she’d noticed Sanemi for once, was not looking at her, but at the hand he’d used to slip her the Wisteria, an unreadable heat in his eyes.

————————————————————————-

Sanemi liked to watch her while she danced.

At first, it had been unsettling to feel a pair of eyes boring into her back as she bumped and ground against Mitsuri or Suma, head tossed back as she let Shinobu’s pills work their magic, but she’d grown accustomed to it. Now, she craved the knowledge that he was thoroughly transfixed by her, because that meant at the very least, she was filling his thoughts while they were out almost as much as he filled hers every moment of the day, despite her efforts to numb him out of her life.

She’d confided her secret joy in Mitsuri, who’d conspiratorially promised her they would do anything and everything to drive the lilac-eyed man wild with desperation so that he might feel an ounce of the pining he’d shackled Y/N to feeling every time he so much as looked her way.

One night, a gaggle of them had gathered over in one of the Kizuki’s seated lounge areas as Shinobu pressed her Wisteria into their greedy, waiting palms. Sanemi’s eyes were locked on Y/N, as they usually were, as she’d exchanged a knowing glance with her pink-haired best friend and placed her pill beneath the heavy glass of her discarded drink and ground the violet pill into magic dust.

Eyes on Sanemi, Y/N delicately cupped the powder in one hand and brought her free fingers to the low bodice of her corseted top, tugging lightly on the strings to loosen it, inching it down lower to reveal the tops of the twin swells of her breasts, though stopping before she could be accused of exposing herself in public. She then turned her attention back to Mitsuri, her pink-and-green friend watching her with a sugary deviousness that made her stomach bubble with excitement.

Wordlessly, Y/N leaned back on the table, to the cheers and cat-calls of her friends, and she sprinkled some of the violet dust along the exposed top of her cleavage. Mitsuri leaned over her body, all vanilla perfume and pink hair tickling Y/N’s delicate skin as her friend held one nostril closed and inhaled every speck of the amethyst powder with the other. Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a wanton moan beneath the black lights of the Kizuki, as her best friend kissed her collarbone in thanks.

Sanemi had gruffly excused himself for the bathroom and did not return for another five minutes. In his absence, Mitsuri had slyly let Y/N know that his eyes hadn’t once left her face throughout the entire vulgar exchange, much to her secret delight.

Y/N knew she was dancing closer and closer to the fire.

She knew that Sanemi wasn’t far from snapping, from losing whatever restraint he thought he had when it came to her, as she deliberately pressed each one of his buttons every time their group ventured out.

The next time he came close to breaking was when he saw another put his hands on her.

A hand gripped her ass, and Y/N turned and saw a man with long white hair and odd-colored eyes give her a wink. He was attractive, that was certain, but there was something predatory in his eyes that made her feel gross, so she moved closer to her circle of friends, keeping an eye over her shoulder.

Eventually, the strange man wandered off, and Y/N felt as though she could relax once more as she swung her hips to the beat thumping over the stereo strongly enough to make the dance floor vibrate. Shinobu held out a hand that Y/N eagerly grabbed, her friend twirling her as she laughed, carefree and alive beneath the resplendent rainbow of lights.

The song slowed to something more sensual, and Y/N was about to take her cue and move toward the bar when a hand grazed her upper arm.

Though it had been nearly two years since she’d last felt his touch, Y/N knew only one person capable of bestowing such a warm and gentle caress, even in spite of his hardened appearance.

Sanemi, to her eternal surprise, had made an appearance on the dance floor – his first if she remembered correctly.

His eyebrow was raised in question at her, and Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate he was asking permission to dance with her, rather than just sidling up and grinding on her like any other man would.

Sanemi looked so god damn handsome in that printed short-sleeve shirt. His sleeves had been cuffed to further show off his considerable biceps, and he’d left the top three buttons open, revealing his scarred but downright divinely toned chest. As he leaned in slightly, waiting for her permission, Y/N caught a whiff of his cologne, and it smelled like home.

Fuck it, she thought, her lips curving up into a siren’s smile as he stepped closer to her, bringing one large hand up to hold her waist as they began rocking to the beat of the music. Their foreheads were nearly touching as their bodies pressed closer and closer together, Y/N’s hips completely flush against his as they danced. Their noses brushed, and Y/N realized how dangerously close their lips had come.

Sanemi brought his other hand up to press against the small of her back, the one on her waist tightening slightly. Y/N looped one arm around his neck, her other hand coming to rest against his chest as they ground, Sanemi setting the pace perfectly in time with the beat.

Through her eyelashes, Y/N could see Sanemi’s amethyst gaze drop to her lips.

She knew she should pull away; she knew if she let him close the distance between their lips, she would also be closing the distance she’d spent so much time carefully crafting between her, and him, and even Kyojuro.

But Y/N also knew she couldn’t pull away, either; she’d waited, for so damn long, to know what his lips would feel like, and she was drunk and a little high, so the inhibitions that would normally have sent her running had long since been overshadowed by her unbounded want for him.

She felt his breath against her lips, and she closed her eyes.

Before she could finally achieve her lifelong dream of kissing Sanemi Shinazugawa, the music changed from the slow, sensual beat that they had been grinding to, to something louder, faster, and more exciting.

A scream grew louder as Mitsuri returned from heaving her guts up in the bathroom, and grabbed Y/N’s wrist, wrenching her from Sanemi’s grip and hauling her deeper into the dance floor to rave alongside her.

By the time Y/N was able to emerge from the surging crush of people dancing and raving, Sanemi was already back at the bar, leaning against it with his beer in hand, watching her.

She’d half expected him to look angry, but he only raised his drink at her, in toast.

The smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth was full of promise.

—————————————————————————

Y/N supposed it was inevitable that this game of cat-and-mouse they’d been playing would end, and end like this.

She’d known where the night was heading the moment she showed up at the club in Mitsuri’s emerald green dress – the one she’d worn her very first time there in that strobe light palace – and saw his eyes darken from lilac to eggplant. Y/N felt the blazing heat of his stare in her bones even as she danced with her girls, could feel his magnetic pull as he watched her like a predator eyeing its next meal.

The more sober part of her was nervous, knew that she was about to cross a line she couldn’t walk back from. She knew that what was about to happen – giving her first time to Sanemi – would do nothing but exacerbate the poisonous love in her heart, but that part of her was so small, so feeble against the fire she felt in her blood as she approached the bar where he stood.

She pretended not to notice that he watched every move she made as she leaned over the ledge to order another shot. Only after the bartender placed the little glass in front of her, only after she tipped her head back and let the acid liquid slide down her throat, did she turn to meet his punishing gaze.

“You really should try joining in on the fun, Sanemi,” she kept her voice at a normal volume, forcing him to lean in slightly to hear her over the pulsing beat of the club music. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as the familiar whiff of his cologne hit her nose, the smell of a home and of a time before he ripped her heart out and stomped it to dust.

Sanemi smirked, and her stomach dipped at just how beautiful he looked, standing there below the pulsing glow of the lights. “I’m havin’ fun watching from here.” His lips were close enough to her ear that she shivered, gooseflesh erupting over her bare arms.

She wouldn’t let him know how much he still got to her, but she also couldn’t resist teasing him a little further, curious to see how far she could push him until he broke. She lifted her hand to pat the part of his chest he’d left exposed, his skin burning under her touch, as she made to pass him.

Sanemi snapped.

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and tugged her closer to him, knocking Y/N’s breath from her as he whirled her around and pressed her up against the dirty club wall to kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. He pinned the hand she’d had on his chest against the wall, over her head, while the other burned its imprint onto her waist. His kiss was demanding and hard, but Y/N was addicted to him. She brought her free hand to his neck, digging her nails in slightly to the sensitive skin to elicit a growl from him as he nipped her bottom lip.

Sanemi released the arm he’d pinned to the greasy club wall to hold the side of her face, tilting her head to he could deepen their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to dance with her own. Y/N couldn’t control her body as she pressed into him, desperate to feel him against her, to feel him fill every empty part of her until she felt whole again. She knew she was dooming herself further, knew she was only setting herself up to fall harder than she already had, but she couldn’t stop because it was Sanemi, and she loved him.

She felt his growing hardness against her thigh, and she couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against him, heat pooling in her belly. Sanemi moaned into her mouth as her hips undulated against his, and Y/N felt herself go molten at the sound. She wanted to make him do it again and again, but Sanemi tore his mouth from hers before she could.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wild and dark as he looked at her. His eyes fell on her reddened, kiss-swollen mouth, and even in the dim light of the club, Y/N could see his pupils explode. He grabbed her hand, and suddenly he was tugging her through the crowded dance floor, through the groups of people near the exit, until they were outside, the night air cool on their overheated skin.

Together, they stumbled down dark, empty streets, though Y/N could not find it in herself to feel afraid, because Sanemi was there, and while he may not have cared about her enough to love her, he was still a gentleman who wouldn’t let her be hurt by anyone but him. They walked as she laughed because he kept stopping and pulling on her hand to kiss her again and again, as though he too, could not get enough of her.

Y/N didn’t know where they were going, but eventually, they arrived at an apartment complex, and it dawned on her that he’d brought her to his home. His lips were on hers the whole walk to his door, never breaking even as he fumbled for his keys. Sanemi finally unlocked the door and pushed her inside his dark apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

Sanemi’s hands shot for her waist as he crushed her against him, his tongue licking the roof of her mouth. Y/N was sweaty and slightly sticky from the club, but the way Sanemi held her to him made her feel so god damn pretty like he’d been set adrift in a starless sea and she was his only lifeline. Sanemi’s hands moved from her waist to cup her ass, kneading her flesh as he moaned into her mouth again. His hands slid lower, grabbing her thighs to lift her up so her legs could wrap around his waist.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmurs, her head tilted back as Sanemi’s lips laid claim to her neck, his hips pressing her harshly against the entryway wall of his apartment.

The snow-haired man groaned, his hands fondling the soft curve of her ass beneath her dress. “Then tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath hot as his tongue teasingly traced across her collarbone.

Y/N whimpered as she tightened her legs around his hips, locking him closer to her. If he stopped then, she thought she would fall completely apart.

“Tch, just as I thought,” his teeth nipped harshly against her throat as Sanemi pulled back to look into her eyes. “You can’t.”

Sanemi set her down, but he did not pull away, instead kneeling before her to run his large, warm hands up the length of her calves before bringing them around to the back of her knees. He tapped each leg one at a time, signaling her to lift it slightly. With a jolt, Y/N was completely suspended in the air with both legs over his shoulders, as he buried his face into her cunt.

He did not even bother removing the flimsy, lacy thong she’d worn under her dress, choosing instead to bypass it entirely as his tongue dragged right up her slit. Y/N’s head smacked into the wall behind her as she moaned, and she couldn’t tell whether it was the Wisteria or Sanemi that had her seeing fractals of light behind her eyes. She found that she didn’t much care either way, however, because what Sanemi was doing to her felt fucking incredible.

Her fingers fisted in his hair as Sanemi fucked her with his tongue, his teeth grazing across her clit in time with his thrusts into her. He was groaning lewdly as he feasted upon her, eyes lifting every so often to meet hers, to ensure she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“I knew you’d taste fucking sweet,” he muttered as he broke for air, fingers digging firmly into her ass as he hauled her back onto his mouth. His tongue darted in and out of her folds, lapping up every drop of her essence that he coaxed out of her, before he dove right back into her entrance, forcing her to ride his tongue as she writhed above him. Y/N desperately sought to grab onto anything for purchase, so that she could grind harder against his face, but Sanemi had her pinned in the middle of the wall, rendering her helpless to let him tear her first orgasm from her, followed by another, and then another, never once lifting his mouth off her tender core.

Eventually, Sanemi decided he’d had enough, and he moved to carry her to his bedroom. Just after he tossed her onto his plush mattress, there was a moment before he pounced on her when Y/N could really look at him. The only source of light was from the full moon outside, casting everything in Sanemi’s bedroom in its silvery glow. The moonlight illuminated the soft platinum of his hair, made his lavender irises melt into precious gems of amethyst as he raked his eyes over her panting, blushing form. His gaze darkened at the sight of her dress strap, hanging off her shoulder, before dropping to the hem that has ridden up her legs.

Y/N barely had time to take another breath before he was on her again, almost ripping the fabric from her in his haste to get it off, to expose her.

“This fucking dress,” he growled in her ear, finally tugging the zipper all the way down and shoving it down her legs, chucking the flimsy material behind him.

She was almost bare to him, but he was still clothed, far too clothed. Y/N sat up and ripped his shirt, the buttons popping all over the bed while he smirked down at her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, however, because then his skin was touching hers, and it felt like heaven even if Y/N knew she was only descending deeper into hell.

Sanemi graced her lips with one more bruising kiss before beginning his descent down her body, and Y/N felt electrified under his touch.

His hot mouth first came to her bare breasts. “Fuck,” he whispered as he let his tongue trace the first of her mounds, swirling around her hardened nipple before letting his teeth nip gently at her. Y/N squirmed under his ministrations, the sensation foreign to her and yet somehow, it felt wholly right, that the first person to explore her body this way would be him.

Not that she would tell him, of course; she didn’t want him to hold back, she needed him to fuck her as though there was no tomorrow. If he knew it was her first time, he would slow, or perhaps insist on stopping altogether, given that they were both high, and she couldn’t have that.

Sanemi pressed his hips down against hers, pinning her against the mattress and stilling her movements as he took his time lavishing her breasts, covering her in small marks that he soothes with sweet kisses that were enough to get her utterly drunk on him. Y/N let out a high-pitched whine as she felt Sanemi grind against the mattress as he sucked on her other breast, his abdomen pressing deliciously against her aching cunt still covered by the lace of her thong, as she desperately swiveled her hips, eager for him to relieve her once more.

Her desperation spurred his movement, as he detached himself from her breast with a low groan, resuming his descent down her body, pausing only to suck and nip at her stomach, before settling between her legs once more. Sanemi’s lips met the band of her thong and he growled, deep and guttural as he pressed his nose against her, inhaling deeply and letting his tongue flick out once more to lap at her wetness over the rough lace obscuring her from view.

Y/N was nearly sobbing from overstimulation, Sanemi having already ensured she’d finished on his tongue three times in the hallway. Now, she needed him to fill her, and quick, or else she thought she would combust.

“Sanemi,” she whined, and his eyes flicked back up to hers, dark with want. “Please, I need you.”

Her words had an instantaneous effect on the heaving man between her legs, because suddenly his body was covering her own, his weight pressing down on her, and his pants were gone, and he was slamming into her with a force that left her screaming and writhing against his soft sheets.

“Shit!” Sanemi snarled in her ear as his cock plunged into her dripping heat, so tight and so unaccustomed to the thick length now bullying in and out of her with abandon. “You’re so – ah – fuckin’ perfect.”

Y/N was sobbing on his mattress, but not from any discomfort. The combination of Sanemi’s body mixing with the Wisteria had utterly blurred out any pain or unease she felt at the intrusion of his rigid length into her core, and instead, Y/N felt herself shatter into a million pieces, only to be fucked back together again by Sanemi, who kept one bruising hand on her hip while the other ensnared itself in her hair as he thrust wildly in and out of her.

But she was not close enough for him. The silver-haired god above her pulled her legs over his forearms and braced his hands on her inner thighs to spread her wide as he pounded into her, leaning down into her face to make her blush, just like he used to do. Only now, instead of teasing her, he was whispering filth that had her turning scarlet and begging for more.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his hips snapping in and out of her with a ferocity that left her breathless. "You've no idea –”

The speed with which he drilled into her propelled them up his bed, but Sanemi moved an arm to come between her head and the wrought iron of his bedframe, protecting her.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he snarled, sitting back on his knees as he began to bounce her against his groin, her breasts jolting with every forceful snap of his hips.

“Sanemi,” Y/N moaned, her back arching off his luxurious sheets as her legs tightened around his hips. Under his breath, Sanemi swore.

“Again,” he croaked, the sticky pap pap of his hips slapping against hers filling his room with the sweet music of their dance. “Say it again.”

Y/N could hardly process his demand over the sensual drag of his cock in and out of her needy walls, Sanemi’s movements chasing every breath from her and replacing it with him, as though there were some parts of her that remained untainted by him.

“Again,” Sanemi insisted, his groin pressing against hers as he ground against her, his rough base swirling over her aching clit demandingly, causing her legs to spasm around his hips.

“S-Sanemi!” Y/N howled as he lifted himself from the mattress by his knees, taking her hips with him as he suspended her half in mid-air and pounded relentlessly into her, rendering her incapable of making any other sound that wasn’t a devotional to him.

Through bleary eyes, Y/N looked to see Sanemi’s own gaze fixed on the way her mouth was frozen in a perfect “o” as he pulled moan after sigh from her throat with his hips, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass as he bounced her up and down his aching member again and again. Y/N arched her back even more, allowing him to hit deeper within her and she felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in her stomach.

It was similar to what she felt out in Sanemi’s hallway, beneath his tongue, but this time was different. Every push and drag of his cock into her syrupy wetness had her feeling electric like the lights of the Kizuki club were being strung beneath her skin and plugged in, and she was slowly becoming a beacon of light for the man chasing his own release above her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as that coil wound tightly, Sanemi’s name falling from her mouth like a plea as she begged him to let her fall apart in his arms.

Above her, Sanemi fared no better, as his hips began to jerk and press into her without the steady rhythym he’d so carefully built, a cacophony of snarls and moans pouring from his mouth along with the filth he muttered against her skin as he sucked harshly at her neck.

Sanemi readjusted his stance above her, his thighs pressing hers down into the mattress, and Y/N lost control.

“N-Nemi!” Y/N gasped as the unfamiliar coil in her belly suddenly unwound. She was far too overcome by her pleasure to recognize she’d accidentally used her old, affectionate nickname for him as she reached her peak.

But the slip did not go unnoticed by the snow-haired man rutting into her from above, as the moment the nickname fell from her lips in her haze, Sanemi’s own release followed, his seed barreling into her hot and fast as a pleasured cry of her name tore from his throat.

Sanemi’s hips rolled into hers for what felt like hours as he poured every ounce of himself into her greedy, demanding core, Y/N taking every drip of his cum. It felt exquisite, to have the man she’d so desperately loved for so long be reduced to such a mess by her body, and Y/N savored the way his warmth filled her, as though it were possible of bestowing life back upon her even though it was he who’d chased it away to begin with.

He collapsed atop her, finally spent and satisfied, an arm winding around her waist as he sleepily pressed a kiss into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Sanemi rolled to his back, pulling her with him, and locking her against his chest as though they were lovers. But the combination of the night’s activities with the dwindling effects of the Wisteria had exhausted him, and it was not long before his chest began rising and falling in a steady pattern of sleep.

Y/N giggled quietly to herself, marveling over the fact that her tolerance for Shinobu’s Wisteria was apparently much higher than his. Under the moonlight, she found her dress puddled in a corner of his room and shrugged it back on, gathering her heels in one hand and locating her bag with the other. She turned back and looked at the sleeping face of the man who still held her heart and smiled slightly, before closing his bedroom door gently and taking off into the summer night.

There was a new ache between her legs, no doubt the product of having her virginity taken in such an enthusiastic way by the man she’d left sleeping in his apartment, though he was none the wiser. Y/N felt oddly satisfied, as though she’d achieved some lifelong goal, as the summer air caressed her face. As she stumbled down the night-warmed pavement back to her apartment, Y/N laughed, her chest feeling light and empty for the first time in a long while.

Want more angst? Smut? Pain? Stick around for part two and see shit literally hit the fan.

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