#i might change my mind later down the line but. not yet.

[jennablackmorebooks]

Some chapters I write in a linear fashion, and some I write very patchwork as the interactions and actions come to me out of order. While I've been doing pretty well at writing MMCK in a linear style, the fifth chapter's segments are all over the place, and I'll need to stitch them together as the main pieces develop. This isn't a bad thing — Regards was a very patchwork book in its writing order and it's my favourite so far I've written — but I'm more out of practice than I was back then. I haven't really, honestly committed to anything like this since I ended that unreleased project in mid-November.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[d0llcuries]

CURIOSITY

pairing(s): orion pax x fem!cybertronian!reader

summary: you caught him red-handed! fortunately for him, he doesn't seem to mind at all.

author's note: the way nobody asked for this LMAOO. whateverr

orion wasn’t supposed to be here.

the hall of records in iacon wasn’t a place for mechs like him—too quiet, too controlled. it was nothing like the mines, where everything was loud and constantly breaking down. his frame wasn’t built for the delicate silence that lingered in the air. it was all too clean, too refined. he was just a miner—rough around the edges, marked by the press of hard labor, the grit of his life below ground still clinging to him like an afterthought. here, it was still, like even the air was afraid to move, and orion, with his dirt-covered plating and rough edges, felt out of place by just breathing in it.

it hummed with the weight of millennia-old history, each data strip stacked with a kind of knowledge he’d never needed before, never cared to learn. and yet, here he was, stepping into a space where the glow of the archive lights felt like a spotlight aimed straight at his back. it felt wrong to be here. but he was.

he had to be. the others were counting on him. counting on this risk, this stupid, reckless chance he’d taken because no one else would. because he was the only one dumb enough to think sneaking into the archives could make a difference, that he might actually find something useful buried in all these ancient records. something to change things for them. help the miners, help the mechs who spent their whole lives breaking their frames for endless crates of energon. give them a way out of the dirt and the darkness, show the rest of cybertron that those born without a cog were just as worthy and special as those who could transform.

now, he didn’t exactly have a plan, but he figured he’d know what to when the opportunity to do something presented itself. that was the kind of logic he lived by: act first, figure it out later. it hadn’t killed him yet.

but then he saw her, and everything else fell apart.

she was standing by one of the consoles, a mech built for this kind of space—quiet, composed, her movements deliberate. smooth lines and soft curves. she blended into the room like she was part of it, but orion couldn’t stop looking. it was like the stillness bent around her, and she was the only thing real in the room.

his processor lagged, cycling through useless thoughts about how different she was from anything he’d seen before. how calm she was, how she seemed to belong here, where he didn’t. and, for a moment, he almost forgot why he came. he was staring, no point in denying it, and that’s when she spoke.

“you’re not supposed to be here.”

his frame stilled, optics shifting from the corridor back to her—leaned up against the console, her posture relaxed in a way that made him second-guess his decision to leave. “uh… not exactly, no.”

“and you are here because…?”

he scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “i figured it wouldn’t hurt to look around. you know, expand my knowledge and all that.”

“right.” her voice stayed even, neutral, though the faintest twitch of her mouth gave her away. “because miners always come to the archives to ‘expand their knowledge.’”

he laughed under his breath, the sound short and awkward. “well, we’re full of surprises.”

“clearly.” she tilted her head slightly, optics lingering on him a second longer than necessary. “you must be very curious.”

he shrugged, stepping closer. “i like to think i’m a mech of many interests.”

she raised a brow, almost teasing now. “you take interest in sneaking into places you don’t belong?”

he smiled a little, trying to keep his voice casual. “just a little.”

she hummed in understanding and everything remained silent for a while.

“you gonna turn me in?”

her optics flickered down, back up again, and something about the way she looked at him made the wires in his chest feel tighter, more constricted. “you really thought i would just let you walk out of here without saying anything?”

“i was hoping for something along those lines, yeah,” he said with a small grin.

she studied him for a moment, her gaze steady but unreadable. then, with the faintest tilt of her head, she asked, “and what do i get out of that?”

he blinked, not expecting that question either. “what do you want?”

her lips quirked, not quite a smile, but close. “now that depends on the offer.”

“the offer?” his voice dropped slightly, a playful edge slipping into his tone. “what makes you think i’m in a position to offer anything?”

“you’re the one sneaking around in a restricted area,” she countered, her optics narrowing just slightly, the amusement clear now in her voice. “seems like you’re the one who needs something from me.”

he exhaled, leaning in just a little, close enough that the air between them felt charged. “maybe i’m just here for the conversation.”

“mm.” her gaze flicked down briefly, then back up to meet his. “you must be terribly bored to come all this way for that.”

“not bored,” he said quickly, almost too quickly, and then laughed at himself. “just… curious. like i said.”

her optics lingered on him, and this time, there was no question in the way they softened, even if her expression remained cool. “you could’ve come during normal hours, you know.”

“where’s the fun in that?” his grin widened slightly. “besides, it’s quieter this way. fewer interruptions.”

the corner of her mouth lifted just enough to be considered a smile. “so you like the quiet?”

he shrugged again, trying to keep things light despite the way her gaze seemed to make his processor stall. “sometimes. depends on the company.”

…

“so,” she continued after a beat, her voice back to that easy, cool lilt, “what do you plan to do with your ‘expanded knowledge’ now?”

orion blinked, his processor stuttering again. “uh…”

she smiled then, fully this time, and it hit him like a shock to his circuits. “that’s what i thought.”

he laughed, more out of nerves than anything, but he couldn’t help the way his own smile lingered. “guess i’ll have to figure that out.”

“i guess you will.” her voice was soft now, her optics still holding his, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

then, without another word, she turned back toward the console, like nothing had happened, like the entire conversation hadn’t left his spark thrumming in his chest. “you should go,” she said casually, though there was something warmer in her tone now, something almost amused. “before i change my mind.”

orion straightened, forcing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “right. i, uh… yeah. i’ll go.”

but as he took a step toward the door, he hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. “unless, of course… you want me to stick around.”

“another time, maybe.”

he nodded, more to himself than to her, and turned to leave. “i’ll hold you to that.”

as he slipped out into the hallway, he couldn’t help but feel lighter, his spark still humming with the unspoken tension that hung in the air between them. maybe he’d have to find an excuse to sneak in again.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DUDDDDE!!

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

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

But any whosies.

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

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

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

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

Take your time! <3

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

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

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

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

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

i really really hope you like it!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples. 

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white. 

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist. 

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other. 

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back. 

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours. 

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him. 

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop." 

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you. 

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically. 

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier. 

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds. 

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two. 

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder. 

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin. 

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, fwb with feelings

— General info: 18+, modern AU, one-shot, smut, fluff

— Summary: Everyone is suspicious that Eren Jaeger has a secret girlfriend or at least a new body. What they don’t know is that his secret affair is with you.

— Content warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, handjob, light bondage, femdom if you squint (Eren likes being tied up), role switch, mentions of drunken make out, vaginal fingering, mutual pining.

— Notes: I haven't written smut for Eren in a while, but here you go. Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 |  Masterlist

Or at least a secret person who's kept him from overwhelming you with his flirty attitude and incessant date proposals. The change in his demeanor was obvious from the start. Your friends noticed it right away.

Eren Jaeger has a secret girlfriend.

Overnight, he simply stopped trying to persuade you into going out with him.

If anything, this shift in dynamics brings peace to your group. Nobody has to put up with Eren's cringey pick-up lines and you seem more relaxed than ever now that Eren's off your back.

You've always made it clear to him that you just want to be friends, yet that's never stopped him from shamelessly insisting how great you'd be together if you just gave him a chance. But now that he's no longer waking his friends’ second-hand embarrassment by forcing them to watch him get rejected over and over again — they have to give you credit, you've remained incredibly patient — the only explanation is that he's spontaneously over his crush, or he's found someone else to fixate on.

Whichever the case is, he's awfully secretive about it. Nobody has met her and he hasn’t even mentioned a name. All they know is he has a goofy grin when the group splits at the end of your get-togethers and he rushes to his confidential rendezvous. But perhaps that's for the better. If he's not talking about it, then it means whichever poor girl he's lured in isn't a ploy to make you jealous.

As your weekly poker night comes to an end after everyone has come down from their weed-induced high — it's your turn to host — and everyone takes on a different task to tidy your living room, Eren is especially quick to wash glasses and finish off everyone's self-assigned duties so goodbyes can be bid sooner.

Everyone heads out the door and into their cars to drive back home.

Eren lingers in front of your house, as his hands fumble around his glove compartment long enough for his friends to disappear from view. With one last glance over his shoulder, he hurries back up the steps to your front door and eagerly knocks a coded beat.

When the door cracks open, you're looking up at him with a neutral expression.

“I think I forgot my lighter,” he grins.

With a roll of your eyes, you pull him inside by his shirt and shut the door.

A short while later, Eren's wrists are tied to the bed with a silk scarf and he does his best to resist the urge to thrust into your hand, as you jerk him off at the laziest pace you can manage. His torso is littered with the searing sensation left by your lips when you kissed down to his V line minutes earlier.

Eren's bare chest rises and falls heavily as he watches himself grow big enough that your thumb can no longer reach your fingertips.

A soft mewl leaves his lips when your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, the gentle friction sending a tickle up his spine and causing his nipples to harden.

“When can I tell our friends we're together?” he asks, admiring the black lace set that adorns your body. The thin straps of your thong disappear into the crease of your thighs as you rest on your calves before him. He hasn't pointed it out, afraid it might embarrass you if he did, but he's noticed you've gotten into wearing sexier pieces of lingerie as the weeks have gone by.

He didn't mind the plain cotton underwear from the first time you pulled him aside to tell him you'd give him one night and no more — pink bikini cut panties with a little bow at the front— but he's not complaining about your recent style evolution, either.

You raise a quizzical eyebrow.

Eren barely acknowledges your expression, but clarifies anyway in between shallow breaths.

“O-or… you know just t-tell them that we're sleeping together.”

Your lips tug into a smile.

“You want them to know you like being tied up and jerked off by me?”

An airy chuckle leaves Eren's lips as his head falls back against the pillow.

“Yeah… I kinda do,” he shyly admits, blinking up at you through half-lidded eyes.

After the first night you spent with Eren, when you drunkenly made out in his car and you let him finger you to an orgasm after poker at Armin's, you assumed he'd get bored and just move on. His tireless flirting always seemed like more of a joke with how juvenile he was about the matter.

Eren was known to be loyal to none else than the bachelor life, always having fun but never settling down. He went from to girl to guy, to girl again. He wasn't careless about it, but he wasn't one to get attached to his fleeting partners more than he should, either. You weren't a prude, but you learned long ago that sleeping with friends can be messy, which is why you spent months rejecting him countless times. Besides, you'd feel a bit hurt if he just saw you as one more person to conquer.

But one too many shots of tequila two months ago pushed you into a spiral of lust and hazy thinking. Suddenly, giving into Eren's advances didn't seem too bad. And considering you kissed him first, you could at least say you had some power over how you felt about it all. You wouldn't get attached, and you wouldn't expect more than you knew he could offer. It'd just be a friend helping a friend get off.

Only it didn't stop there. Eren stopped by your house the following morning to confess his feelings. It wasn't the first time Eren admitted to liking you, but it was the first time he was so earnest when pronouncing the words.

You remained skeptical. Even now, when he tries to get your opinion on revealing your relationship to your friends, you hesitate. Suddenly, you're oblivious to the pounding in your chest each time he flashes his boyish grin at you, or when he shudders under your touch and you have to hold back from viewing him through a romantic lense. Suddenly, you ignore the fact that he hasn't even talked to anyone else since that night in his car or that he's adamant about repeating how much he likes you each time he gently wipes you clean of his cum. Suddenly, you can't recall the lengthy periods you've spent browsing lingerie, thinking a little too hard about what Eren might like. Suddenly, you're clueless to the absurdly obvious that somewhere along the way, you've developed feelings for Eren and his have only gotten stronger.

“So?” he breathes, a lazy crooked smile plastered on his face.

Your hand pauses as you lean forward to kiss his cheek.

“You're cute,” you smile.

Eren blushes profusely as you pick up your movements, your hand more firm this time as it strokes his cock.

With your free hand, you unclasp your bra with agile movements, letting the delicate cups of black lace fall from your breasts and the straps to glide off your shoulders.

Eren bites back a whimper as his gaze wanders over your pert nipples.

“What was that?” you tease, giggling once Eren throws his head back like you knew he would. You soften your hold on his cock, which elicits another whimper from the helpless figure before you.

“You're getting meaner these days,” Eren mumbles as he returns his gaze to you. “Come on,” he begs, bucking his hips upwards to accentuate his pleading. “Touch me, please.”

A sigh of relief falls from his lips when your hand wraps around his length once more, your thumb brushing over his tip with a ghostly touch that has shivers running down his spine.

He connects with your gaze, refusing to peel his focus from you even when a particular stroke makes him hiss and his eyebrows upturn in pleasure. It's a matter of willpower, to not come undone before he even gets the chance to bury himself inside you.

His eyes shimmer at the image of you bending forward to trace your hardened nipples with his tip. Your nipple brushes with exquisite friction over the slit of his urethra. It sends a pleasant tingle through your chest and has him releasing shuddered breaths, breaking the dam of his mental prowess as warm cum bubbles and leaks from the tip, trailing down his length and pooling in the crevices between him and your hand.

There's no use in toughing it out anymore. You stroke him more fervently, kindly prolonging his high as he thrusts into your hand, his hips clumsy and his whimpers broken as he struggles with his restraints.

Your hand grows sticky as it slathers his release over his length, his cock still hard even after the last of the creamy white ropes finish spurting from his tip.

When you look up at him, he's got a lazy grin on his face and his eyes shimmer as they watch you adoringly. He'll never not be fascinated by how hard it is to hold back when it comes to you. But he tries his best, and it's earned you plenty of hours worth of fun.

You smile back as you press his hips against the mattress before straddling him. His breath hitches when he realizes you're preparing to lower yourself onto his cock.

Your fingers hook under your thong, tugging the fabric to the side as your free hand strokes him before he gets a chance to soften — as if that were possible; the man gets hard just by looking at you. Carefully, you line him up with your entrance and lower yourself in measured movements. Your brow furrows in concentration, your eyes closing as you replay a visual in your head of his length making its way inside you.

A pleasant burn comes from sinking onto him without much preparation beforehand, but the slick gathered between your folds from watching him writhe under your touch eases any discomfort.

“Easy, baby,” Eren murmurs, admiring the way his cock gradually stretches you open and disappears into you until you're flush against his pelvis.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips, your features softening once he's fully inside. It's been a while since you and Eren started exclusively sleeping with each other, and it only gets better each time he carves your insides to be his perfect fit. You've never felt so full, both physically and emotionally.

“Do all the people who've been on this bed get to spend the night?” you teasingly asked the first time he invited you to stay over at his place.

Eren smiled as he continued twirling a lock of your hair between his fingers, his chest still reflecting his heavy breaths as his efforts to make you cum twice that night caught up to his body.

“You're the first.”

You never expected Eren to be so tender. Even when you decided to explore new things together, there was always a moment where he'd just look at you and smile, infecting you with his amusement that ultimately ended with a shared laugh as you collapsed onto bed beside him, or further teasing which led to the most mind-blowing orgasms.

You stir your hips slowly, getting used to the feeling of him inside you. Eren can only admire from below as your hands fix themselves on his stomach and you start to grind against him.

A lazy crooked grin stretches across his face as he watches your brow furrow in concentration when you're finally comfortable enough to raise your hips and sink back onto him, grinding your clit onto his pelvic bone as you do. Your movements are sharp and measured as your arousal continues to build up and a series of pretty moans climb up your throat.

Your tits bounce to the beat of your skin slapping against his, offering Eren the most perfect view as he grows frustrated with the pink silk scarf that's keeping him from playing with the soft mounds.

“Eren,” you whine, short of breath and too clouded by lust to remember how to pronounce anything other than his name.

“Keep going… You're doing so fucking good, baby,” he breathes, and accentuates his words with upwards thrusts he makes to meet you halfway. “So. Fucking. Good.”

Your head rolls back, your eyes fluttering closed as you bite back the moan that's threatening to escape your lips.

Your hands fall onto his calves and you lean back, pulling his focus from your tits to the wet folds that swallow his cock, coating him with the glossy sheen of your arousal.

Eren continues thrusting up into you a few times, matching your rhythm and doing his best to ignore the pesky scarf that keeps him from reversing your roles and dominating you instead. You haven't reprimanded him for moving so he figures you could use a bit of help — you must be getting tired.

It's oddly fun to be tied to the bed as he grows more and more excited each time you lift your hips and your sloppy cunt is right in his line of view. It's incredibly satisfying for him to witness you fluttering around him, taking him so well as you only grow more needy, too. So he does his best to remain a good tool to help you get off.

Your forehead is lined with sweat, your features are contorted in a mix of concentration and pleasure, your thighs are growing heavier and yet you've never looked prettier in Eren's eyes.

No matter how glad he is just to watch you use him, it's a huge relief when you throw yourself forward with barely enough clarity to undo the knot on his wrists with one sharp tug of the silk fabric, and he can finally dig his fingers into your hips, picking up your slowing pace for a more fervent one.

The sound of slapping skin plays over and over again as you fall forward and bury your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering and exhaling nonsensical noises into his feverish skin as a reward for his patience.

His hands grope your ass, spreading your cheeks as he helps you meet his eager thrusts. Your nails dig into his shoulder and grip the sheets, the satisfying sensations between your legs too big for your body to carry as your breasts jostle against his chest in tandem with his relentless thrusts.

Eren's hand effortlessly wraps and tugs at your hair, forcing you to face him as you reach your high.

Sweet moans and whimpers fall from your parted lips, your half-lidded eyes looking down at him through a glossy haze.

“You're so pretty, baby. Come here and give me a kiss,” he coos, before pulling you by the back of your neck into a searing kiss that overwhelms your body further.

His tongue expertly glides inside your mouth, caressing yours and devouring each of your moans. The kiss is desperate and sloppy, with teeth crashing into each other in his futile attempts to bring you impossibly closer — as if thrusting himself into the deepest parts of you and shoving his tongue to the back of your throat isn't enough.

But it's no surprise. He's always been like this. At least, that's what you learned from day one of this secret arrangement. What you don't know is his desperation was awakened by just you.

Eren's no stranger to being a wildfire in bed, but it's different with you. His usual passion has been puppeteered by his heartstrings since the very first time two months ago. He's been a shameless flirt, it's true. But once you kissed him that night in his car, it was game over. He can still remember the frantic beat of his heart that stemmed from that very first taste of your lips. It still finds its way to him now, even when he eases his rough kiss for exhausted breaths that he releases over your open mouth.

Never before has he held so much eye contact with the person on top or below him, yet he finds a way to always have your face in his line of view to appreciate every little shift in your features. He loves the way your eyebrows knit together when you feel your orgasm coming in, and the way they soften with the washed over bliss of your high. He loves getting to clean you after and getting to hold you while you share pointless conversations as your exhaustion catches up to you — that's probably even better than the actual sex.

So as you cum around his cock and he fills you with hot ropes of white, he exhales a sweet ‘I love you’ against your lips.

Your body shivers and your legs weakly tremble as you climb off of him.

He pads to the bathroom, where he soaks a clean washcloth with warm water and comes back to find you fixing your hair on the bed.

His heart flutters as he goes through the usual motions of sitting beside you, tapping your thigh for you to spread your legs just enough for him to tenderly wipe his cum from the still sensitive spot at the center.

“What was that about?” you ask as you lean back into your hands, admiring his large hands gingerly pressing the washcloth where your thighs meet.

He glances at you briefly before smiling as he continues cleaning you.

“What do you mean?” he asks, still with that sly grin etched on his face.

Your face warms.

“Earlier, when you came,” you explain, circling around the exact words. “What you said… was that from the heat of the moment or something? Some new kink I should know about?”

An airy chuckle leaves his lips as he softly shakes his head.

“I wouldn't say that,” he murmurs. “Let's just leave it there. You can decide what to do with it later.”

You hum in response, trying your best to look composed as butterflies stir in your stomach.

You've spent the past two months being skeptical, but ignoring your blooming feelings is hard when Eren keeps surprising you with things like this. He's sweet and attentive, and cuddling in bed with random conversations is easily earning the first slot in your favorite things to do. You like brushing his hair from his face and burying your face in the crook of his neck. You like hearing him say sweet things and you like the duality of his actions in bed.

You can decide what to do with it later.

It'll be a while before you admit to the cause of the incessant pounding in your chest, but for now the feelings linger in the air as Eren pulls you under the covers with him and he presses a kiss into your hair.

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[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[lola-la-cava]

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

[dearsnow]

I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT

- you still think about the man that broke your heart years later. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!/fem!reader, pure angst (sorry))

word count: 719

a/n - writing angst scratches a part of my writing urges that nothing else can fill lol. i prefer reading fluff, but writing is another story- funny, huh? anyways, enjoy. here’s to writing that doesn’t have a happy ending <3

When your boyfriend was deployed the first time, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. It was just a few months, right?

You wrote letters, and you sent emails, and you called just enough to whet your taste for his voice before he was pulled away. You’d do anything for Bradley Bradshaw, and he knew it.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” His words fell from his mouth and shattered on your floor like broken glass. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking you. He was saying the one thing you never wanted to hear. “You know how my job is. I’d never be able to treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry, but we have to break it off.”

A stinging set off behind your eyes, clouding your vision and pulling your eyes down to the floor. You could wait. You would take the crumbs of him that he offered like a starved animal, no matter how long you went without food. Didn’t he understand that you’d have waited lifetimes? That you loved him more than you’ve loved anything? You needed him like air, but he needed you like solid ground; if he was in the water, he could survive without you.

“But I love you,” you protested, “I’d wait.”

He shook his head. He loved you too, and that’s why he left you to fend for yourself.

It took three years for you to find someone else, two years for you to marry them, and one more before you had your first child. She was four when you had your second, a boy. He’s three now.

Twelve years. It took twelve years for Bradley to finally leave your mind. You’re reorganizing your old things, discarding everything from your life before your family. That’s when you happen upon a letter you wrote so long ago it seems like a distant dream, yet so fresh in your mind that you can recite a few lines by memory.

Dear Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,

I will always love you.

You’re my Achilles heel. I want you so desperately it burns, it burns my throat and my eyes and my heart. I don’t think I can get over that kind of burn.

I’ll move on, though, as I’m sure that’s what you wanted for me. I’ll marry someone. I’ll have children. I’ll have that white picket fence suburban dream, the one where your new neighbors bake you brownies and the sun is just a little too hot all the time. I’ll have a stable life, a nice one. I’ll have a pool and a two-story house. I might even get a dog or three for my kids to play with– a golden retriever trio that came from the same stray litter.

But if you came to me, walked up to my home, and smiled at me through the window, it would be like nothing ever changed. I’m terrified even now that I’ll say your name when my boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist. If you asked me to leave with you, to turn in my divorce papers and lose custody of the children I’ll eventually have, I’d have to think about it. I would have to think about leaving everything I’ve built to elope with you.

What scares me is that I would probably end up doing it.

So, I hope I never see you again, because I don’t want to have to break the hearts of those who love me. And I also hope that if you knock on my door, I’ll have the strength to close it.

Yours truly,

The One Who Would Have Waited.

You set the envelope down on your desk with watery eyes. The worst part about finding the slightly crumpled letter is that it still rings true after all this time, even after you told yourself it held no weight. You’ll forget about the letter eventually, you tell yourself. You’ll forget about the person written in black ink, too.

You have a good life, no one can doubt that. You tell yourself that nothing could be better. But when you think about the love of your life, you don’t think about the person you married.

You think about the man with a mustache who broke your heart so many years ago.

[tourturestarradio]

𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami (more added later) x Mermaid reader!

Prompt: After your family jewels were stolen you were determined to get them back joining you closest friend Monkey D. Luffy on his adventure to become the king of the pirates.

Warnings: none, this follows the live action!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Part 4

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

⋆｡°✩ ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊               ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚★⋆｡˚  ⋆ ┊         ┊       ┊   ⋆                                                                                                         ┊         ┊       ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆      ┊ .  ˚            ˚★

𝐘/𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐃 nodding her head "mhm! I thought you guys would have guessed that from the fins, gills, odd skin colors" she glanced over at Luffy "you got some clothes?" he handed her some with a faint smile happy to see she's ok.

She wasn't naked but she did have pretty much nothing but a swimsuit on. Zoro looked away feeling his cheeks getting hot while Nami blinked seemingly still in shock.

Y/n walked into the small room shutting the door.

The two looked back at Luffy who smiled friendly at them "so you just aren't gonna mention you're friends with a mermaid?" Zoro asked.

Luffy corrected him "I not friends with a mermaid, i'm best friends with a mermaid" Zoro rolled his eyes "yeah same difference, why didn't you tell us she was a mermaid?" Luffy shrugged "didn't think it was important."

Nami spoke sounding annoyed "of course that's important- oh my god." both Luffy and Zoro looked at her in confusion "what?" Nami looked like she came to a shocking realization.

"Angelfish...Luffy do you even know what happened to the Angelfish family?" Luffy tilted his head "you mean Y/n's family? No. why?" Nami sighed "they-" Y/n just so happened to get finished getting changed.

"Done! hey Nami have you got the safe open yet?" she asked sitting down beside Luffy, Nami gulped "uh yeah  almost." Y/n looked in between the group "what's wrong? D-Did I do something I'm s-sorry if I did-" "nope! you're all good" Luffy said wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

She fiddled with her necklace her eyes wandering around "you sure?" Luffy nodded his head with a cheeky grin. Y/n smiled back "oh well alright" going over to the edge of the boat Y/n looked out into the ocean watching as the water moved steadily.

She let out a sigh before turning away and plopping down she saw Zoro staring at her out of the corner of her eye but when she looked in his direction he looked away.

Y/n chuckled and played with her necklace "so does that always happen?" Y/n glanced up and over.

"Hm? what do you mean?" she asked tilting her head at Zoro's question, "faint when you don't get water" Y/n tilted her head from side to side "eh yes and no, it's just I can go a few hours without seawater then i'll get a headache, maybe get a little dizzy but then I might pass out if I don't get water, I could possibly even die without it." Y/n chuckled.

Y/n glanced at Luffy "first time it happened Luffy almost lost his mind, he thought I died...I mean I kinda almost did but it was funny, kinda."

Zoro hummed "uh wow that's morbid..." Y/n shrugged "I've been through worse" Zoro raised a bro looking at the girl questioningly, realizing what she said Y/n tensed up "u-um I-I uh m-mean-oh look at that! Nami got the safe open!" getting up Y/n went over looking into the safe.

Zoro stared at the nervous girl before going over to  the safe "isn't there supposed to be a treasure in there or something?" he asked, Nami looked at him as if he was crazy "this is more valuable than treasure. it's knowledge, this is the map to the grand line." Y/n couldn't help but get lost in thought as they talked.

She stared up at the sky looking at all the bright white stars when she spotted an odd red light "what's that?" she muttered to herself, it popped causing smoke to fall onto the ship "woah! w-what's that?!" she stumbled back, as another one popped causing more smoke to fall.

"The smoke smells weird" Luffy muttered, Y/n off in the distance saw a much larger pirate ship in the distance, thinking quick she grabbed a bag and stuffed some clothes into it as the other began to pass out Luffy stumbling into the room.

She jumped overboard, swimming deep into the ocean turning her legs into her tail swimming off into the distance she saw the other crew mates jumped onto the boat dragging the other onto the larger ship.

Y/n's heart thumped against her chest as she saw the ship start to move away deciding to follow the ship Y/n kept a good distance "I hope they're gonna be okay..."

Ducking her head under the water she swam faster "who's ship even is this...that flag looks familiar..." she muttered. swimming under the boat she looked around "hopefully they won't be sailing for a while."

They did in fact sail for a while.

By the time they made it to land the sun was coming up, poking her head up she swam to shore making sure it was safe for her to come up she switched her tail back to her legs taking the clothes out of her bag and changed into them sneaking around she poked her head around a corner.

As she did so she saw someone stare dead in her direction, "eek!" she backed up and hid 'they didn't see you...they didn't see you...' she repeated to herself in her mind, that was until she heard a snicker come from beside her, "what's a pretty thing like you doing around here?" she only had one thought in her mind 'crap!!'

THWACK!

Buggy stared at the black haired boy "hmm...I'm not asking the important questions here...need to dig deeper. What makes a boy want to grow up to be king of the pirates? Who are you trying to impress? A lost love, an absent parent, or was it someone that you worshiped a false idol?" Luffy looked away ignoring his words.

Without warning Buggy snatched Luffy's straw hat "hey give me back my hat!" but Buggy only ignored him "I used to know a pirate who wore a hat just like this...red haired Shanks." Luffy looked at him in confusion "you knew Shanks?"

"Ginger three scars left eye, kinda hard to miss." Buggy stated, he rambled about how Shanks "stole his spot light" Buggy slowly growing annoyed with him bad mouthing Shanks, "don't talk about him that way." Buggy smirked knowing he struck a nerve.

Luffy looked away only to spot a familiar mermaid standing behind some of the seated people, he smiled seeing her "Y/-" she held her pointer finger up to her lips shushing him he kept his mouth closed looking back over to Buggy "Boogy...I'm warning you." he stated, Buggy dropped his shoulders "it's Buggy! and you warning me? Now that's a laugh."

Without a second passing a harsh whip cracked against Buggy's back "ack-! what the- ow!" he dropped the kid he was holding, who ran back over to where he was sitting. Holding his back he turned around confused, but he didn't see anyone.

Another harsh crack hit his back "ah! shit!" this time he didn't even get to turn around he was kicked right in his stomach sending him flying back. Luffy took this opportunity to break out of those stupid bindings, Y/n ran over to her friend tackling him down into a hug "oh t-thank God you're safe!" Luffy hugged back "yeah, i'm fine but I don't know about Nami and Zoro go check on them."

Y/n looked conflicted "w-what about you?" Luffy patted her head "don't worry i'll be fine." she nodded and ran to find Zoro and Nami.

Buggy made a smug face "well don't just stand there! Go get her!" he stated to one of his crew members, they ran off to catch the girl he looked back at Luffy "...who's the fish face hm?" Luffy glared at him "that's none of your business, and don't call her that." Luffy stated, "Your girlfriend or something? I gotta say..." he circled around Luffy like a hawk watching it's prey.

"She looks a little too good for you if you ask me."  Luffy clenched his fist, "shut up." Buggy only laughed "ooh? Is someone getting upset?...it's true though. She is a fine piece of art." Luffy sick of hearing Buggy speak about his friend in such a way pulled his hand back and stretched it forward punching his head off.

It flew into a woman's lap causing the people around her to scream in shock. However his body remained standing "well, well, well, looks like we have something in common." he popped his head back on like it was nothing, Luffy looked confused "you ate a devil fruit?" Buggy smiled "the chop chop fruit." he specified.

Y/n ducked under one the freaks punches punching him in the stomach. She cracked her whip in another persons face before kicking their feet out from under him.

Running past them she listened for the sound of Zoro or Nami's voice. Soon enough she heard the two voices bickering following them she peaked her head inside the room seeing Zoro being questioned by a crew mate with a bad haircut.

Y/n slid off her shoes so they wouldn't make any sound as she slowly crept up behind the pirate. Zoro kept his focus on the man in front of him so he wouldn't get suspicious.

Y/n got close enough to him lightly tapping him on the shoulder he turned around only to be met with a hard punch to the face, although...it wasn't hard enough to knock him out.

He fell to the ground "you...you'll pay for that!" Y/n shrieked "you were supposed to pass out!" quickly she punched him again finally knocking him out. Y/n stood up going to untie Zoro "that was painful to watch" he stated, Y/n huffed "n-not everyone c-can be a brute like you!"

Nami picked the lock opening the cage "so what's your plan? That's your thing right?" Zoro asked, Nami smirked picking up her staff "I say...we beat up every clown we see." picking up his swords Zoro chuckled "not a bad idea." walking out of the room Y/n pouted "always fighting..." she slid back on her shoes hurrying to catch up to them.

Tapping the glass Buggy continued to toy with Luffy "you want out? you know the price you have to pay." smirking Luffy tapped on the glass, Buggy turned around wondering just who he was pointing at? Nami tossed her staff at the glass cracking it.

Buggy looked around panicked as the glass broke "where are my freaks?" as the seawater came pouring out of the tank Luffy coughed up some water along with the map he swallowed.

Buggy crawled to get the map, as Luffy grabbed his hat cradling it close to his chest. Nami, Zoro, and Y/n walked up prepared to fight the unfunny clown, Buggy smirked at the three "you want a piece of me?...Let's see what you got" Zoro tried cutting him up but he only pieced himself back together again "surprise shit heads!"

Y/n groaned "you have a devil fruit power...." Buggy began to separate his body up, circling it around the three while laughing "wait a minute..." Y/n looked over seeing crates she rushed over to the open crates.

"Ya'know Burpy! it's kinda hard to focus on what you're saying when you have that big nose in the way all the time!" she shouted, in an instant she saw him focus on her "did you just...i'll kill you, you brat! And it's Buggy!" he threw his body parts towards her, she ducked and let the limb hit the lid of the crate before falling shut.

Luffy was the first to catch onto what Y/n was doing, he shouted over to Nami "Nami the crates!" she grabbed her staff, as Zoro got up Luffy started punching the limbs over towards the trio.

Quickly enough Buggy caught onto what they were doing shouting "no!" but he stupidly kept throwing limbs at them.

When he was nothing but a head, hands, and feet he shouted "what have you done to me!" Luffy smirked "cut you down to size." As they talked Y/n put a weight on all of the crate moving them and hiding them around so it would be harder to put him back together again.

Luffy stretched his arms back "gum gum!" Buggy started to panic "hey! hey! woah, woah, woah!" launching his hands forward he threw Buggy out of the big top sending him who nose where. (get it? Nose instead of knows, okay i'll stop)

Picking up the map Luffy handed it over to Nami who looked mildly surprised "you're giving this to me?" she questioned "you're the navigator." Zoro sighed "let's get out of this clown show." Luffy stopped him "there's still one more this we have to do."

Going over to the people he undid the chains setting the people free, Y/n helped getting the chains off as she did a little girl stared at her, Y/n smiled warmly at her "don't worry we'll get you out of here" the little girl nodded "thank you miss." Y/n patted her head "no problem."

Heading back to the ship the people and their mayor followed gathering up all the food they could find  "we don't have much. but please take this as a token of our gratitude." luffy spoke "you need it more than we do." going back to the ship someone tugged on the bottom of Y/n's skirt causing her to turn around.

It was the little girl but she was crying, she hugged Y/n's legs "i-i'll n-never forget you!" Y/n smiled down at the girl, patting her head she knelt down to the girls height "here have this." taking the starfish hair clip out of her hair she carefully placed it on the girls hair "don't cry okay? we'll meet each other again someday."

The little girl hugged Y/n muttering thank you, Y/n hugged back for a second before letting go "okay goodbye!" the girl waved "bye bye!"

Y/n hurried and got back on the ship right as they were about to take off as she got on the ship Y/n let out a deep sigh. Watching as the left Y/n felt tears swell up in her eyes "what happened to not crying?" Zoro joked, "shut it! I get very emotional at times like this!" Y/n shouted.

Luffy went to the front of the ship pointing off into the distance "next stop! the grand line!"

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: *awesome authors note!!*

Tag List: @luuffyswife @ghostlyworld @valen-yamyam16 @juhdoche

[dearharriet]

a steve with fem reader fix might just cure me. maybe inspired by the song in agreement by lizzy mcalpine? i love your writing :)

ty sm!! sorry this took me a bit, i’m planning a trip for this summer n i’m so so stressed 😭

(1.5K) (cw: fem!r, mentions of sex)

“What’s his name?”

The bed squeaks as you roll over onto your stomach, pushing down a smile

“Steve,” you say, your voice tellingly sticky and sweet.

“Steve who?”

“What, are you gonna find him in the phone book, mom?” She wouldn’t have to. She knows Steve Harrington as well as the rest of Hawkins.

“Maybe I would,” she teases, but you think she’s half serious.

You consider spilling your guts. Your mom has heard very little of your love life before now, mostly because you weren’t dating guys you would ever take home. Steve, though…

You want to. Take him home. Not even as a pride thing (a little bit as a pride thing), but because you think he’s great, and your mom is great, and you know they’d love each other.

It all felt so exclusive, though. Girls take their boyfriends home to meet the family. Steve isn’t your boyfriend. You don’t even know why you’re telling your mom at all.

Sensing your discomfort, your mom changes her angle.

“Well, at least tell me about him. Is he nice?”

The velocity of your answer lodges in your throat and turns into a laugh.

“Um,” you giggle, “is grass green?”

Foamy chittering pours out of the landline.

“O-kay, message received,” your mom jokes. You wrap the phone cord around your finger, smiling.

“He’s so nice, mom. It’s almost irritating. He makes me sandwiches with the crusts cut off.”

“I think I’m gonna like this boyfriend of yours.” She’s obviously smiling, too. You can hear it in her voice. “He sounds wonderful.”

“Well he’s—“ you hesitate. “We aren’t exclusive.”

There’s a puzzled silence.

“He hasn’t asked?” A speck of disappointment seeps into the question. You roll back over, splaying yourself out in shame.

“Oh, he asked. Twice, but I told him no.”

A gasp. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did,” you confirm, wincing.

“Well, what’s the holdup?”

“Ugh.“ The ceiling looms over you, and you track the afternoon light refracted by your mirror, thinking. “I dunno. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Have you guys—” A tea kettle screams over the line. “Hold on.”

Staticky shuffles and your mother’s humming serenade you while you think about her question. What’s the holdup?

It’s not Steve. When you first said no, his face had sunken so severely you almost changed your mind, because you knew he would put the whole thing on himself. The second time around, you might’ve been more surprised than he was that your answer hadn’t changed. It was just…

The sound of the receiver being picked up, and your mom’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Have you had sex yet?”

“Oh my god, mom.”

“What? I can’t ask?”

Shoving your face into your pillows, you teeter between laughing and screaming. You’re suddenly glad you kept all your past boyfriends a secret. You pick your head back up and press the receiver to your ear, red-faced.

“No, we haven’t,” you lie. “Steve said he wants to wait until we make it official.”

It’s not totally untrue, Steve did say that. You just leave out the part where he caved two days later.

Gone is your flush by the time your mom replies, having paused so long you thought the call dropped. A serenity coats her voice, like silk sheets after a shower—everything as it should be.

“I hope you keep Steve. I’d like to meet him.”

You both leave it at that, turning over other stones for another half an hour, until your call is interrupted by a handsome devil sneaking through your door.

“Oh—hey, mom I—I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow?” Sunny brown eyes watch you from the threshold as you say this, enjoying your casual sprawl, your sweet pajama set. Steve soaks in the privilege of seeing you, of being invited over, and of being a call-ending arrival. The phone is barely back on the hook before he rolls over you and manhandles you on top of him. You shriek but don’t fight it.

“Hi, pretty.” Steve rubs your back in big, long sweeps, melting you.

“Mmph, ‘ey,” you mumble, face smooshed into his chest. Steve is like a furnace, constantly hot, and it’s like laying on sun-warmed sand. When he laughs, it vibrates in his ribs.

“What happened to you, baby, hm? Tired?” You nod. “What’d you do all day?”

You regale the day with minimal words, all the way up to the moment he found you.

“—‘n then called mom, cause we hadn’t talked in awhile.”

“Mm-hm, I heard,” he says, not unkindly. His fingers knead the back of your neck. You close your eyes. “You didn’t have to hang up ‘causa me, yknow?”

Nodding minutely, you slur something incoherent. Steve chuckles.

“Feels good?”

More nodding. Steve kisses the top of your head.

“Talked t’my mom ‘bout you,” you spit out, too blissed to think.

Steve stills for a split second, and then doubles down his ministrations.

“Yeah?” There’s a giddy earnestness in his voice that makes you smile.

“Mm-hm,” you hum. “I told her about the sandwiches.”

An amused rumble.

“Anything else?” He asks, and if he’s trying to disguise his anticipation he’s not succeeding.

“Mmm, yeh.” A dopey smile splits your face as Steve slips a hand under your pajama shirt to scratch your back.

“Yeah? Like what, pretty girl?” Steve knows he has you limp and pliable in his lap, and he’s trying to get as much information as possible.

“Ummm, like, how we haven’t had sex—“

“We haven’t?”

You shake your head, and then it quickly devolves into rubbing your cheek on his thick polo.

“We haven’t.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees blindly.

“B’cause we aren’t official, remember?” You look up just as Steve bites back a flinch.

“Hard to forget,” he murmurs, but he pets your baby hairs back gently despite it all. “What else did you tell her?”

“That’s all,” you tell him.

Something about Steve’s sorry eyes makes you regret not telling your mom his last name. Are you ashamed of him? Do you think he isn’t worth defending? It lights a fire, burning you from the inside out. It’s so typical of you, to have one foot in and one foot out, always ready to run away. Always afraid to emotionally invest.

That’s the damn holdup.

In a self-afflicted fury, you pull yourself back together to sit up. Steve places cautious hands on your legs, gauging your mood. Knees on either side of his hips, you fist his shirt in your hands and steady your voice.

“Would you want to meet her sometime? My mom?”

Steve’s mouth drops open. He sits up, hands gripping your thighs firmly.

“Really?”

Softening, you nod. “Really.”

“‘Course I want to. Yes,” he says, breathless. “When?”

“Well…,” you sigh. Gazing at the ceiling, you pretend to think. “I’d need you to fill out some paperwork first.”

Steve raised a dubious brow.

“What, like, an NDA?”

“Ha-ha. No, not that kind of paperwork. I was thinking some kind of…certificate of exclusivity?”

Steve blinks. “I’m so not following.”

Shifting closer on Steve’s lap, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. You can hardly contain a smile as you continue, kissing between your words.

“I dunno—“ Kiss. “—just something that—“ Kiss. “—proves—“ Kiss. “—that you’re my boyfriend.”

You seal the words with a final kiss, and then hesitantly pull back to see Steve’s reaction.

Awe-stricken, Steve is playing with the hem of your pajama shorts, a thoughtful look on his face.

“You mean it?”

When you nod, Steve’s hands come up and around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“What made you change your mind?” His hands caress your back like he’s not sure if this is real, like he’s afraid to break the illusion. You shrug, nose bumping his.

“Time, I guess. I wasn’t convinced you knew what you were asking for.”

Steve kisses the corner of your mouth, and then your cheek; Moves down to nip at your neck.

“Think I came on too strong,” he agonizes into your jaw. “But you’re so good for me. I didn’t want ya t’ think I wasn’t all in.”

Golden brown hair slips around your fingers as you massage his temples.

“I am, too,” you assure him. “All in.”

Steve grins.

“Can I get that in writing?”

+

thank you for reading! 🦢

masterlist

[obxsummer]

HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

navigation 

more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

--

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it. 

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t. 

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party. 

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left. 

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often. 

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you. 

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down. 

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock. 

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother. 

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him. 

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side. 

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules. 

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you. 

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break. 

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him. 

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said. 

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.” 

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

 It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word. 

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you. 

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened. 

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you. 

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about. 

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be. 

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart. 

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest. 

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all. 

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

[queenoffishingandcookies]

Thinking on the first shower Noctis took, post-crystal.

He wakes up, and he has to know on some level that quite some time has passed, even before he reaches Galdin Quay. The scratch of facial hair on his chin, the way his hair is longer and tickles his chin now when it shouldn't have, the accumulated grime - dust and dirt and traces of black soot and gray ash on his fatigues - on his skin and clothes from the struggle in Zegnatus Keep and then a decade in stasis.

I'm not sure if the crystal just up and deposited him on Angelgard, because while Noctis was sucked into it in his entirety - we don't know of the divide between his soul/mind, and his actual body, and there's something so grim in thinking about Noctis himself was in the crystal, absorbing centuries of power, while his body is left in Angelgard.

That also, to me, makes more sense as to why Gentiana and Umbra would be there, guarding him, and later - a la Comrades expansion - the surviving Glaives.

Noctis himself wasn't there, but his body was.

Imagine the feel of that. Ten years worth of grime, or nearly.

I say nearly, and maybe it's just my bleeding heart for how Gentiana does care about Luna, and in turn how Luna cares for Noctis, but there's something very tender and bittersweet in the thought of Gentiana - the messenger and Astral in one - trying her best to keep Noctis healthy during that long decade, like sponge bathing to keep the worst off him.

If anyone had direct access to Noct, it would be her.

It wouldn't be the same as a proper bath, or real exercise, but it would be something - keeping of muscular atrophy and maintaining his hygiene as much as possible (as well as whatever crystal fuckery is going on besides Bahamut's revelation, because the amount of issues Noct should have woken up with makes no small list).

Noctis wakes up, and he walks the trail Umbra paves for him, to the shores of Angelgard - and the royal vessel is waiting there for him. Aged, probably worn, but there to bring him back to the mainland. Back to Lucis.

We never see the interior of the Royal Vessel, but there's probably bedrooms - and probably a bathroom. Considering Noctis would probably be more focused on driving the yacht itself, rather than stopping, it'd be unlikely for him to enter the bathroom - but the thought of him looking into a mirror, and looking at himself, so changed from what he remembers being...

It carves the strongest feeling of loss, down to the roots of my heart in my chest because - Noctis is grown. He's fully grown, a man, and yet - not. Ten years were stolen from him, and he wouldn't even know yet. Not until running into Talcott.

There's so much of his father in his face, but his father is dead. His father never got the chance to see Noctis grown up in life, never would have gotten the chance with the strain of the wall and the magic of their bloodline sucking his life away.

His father, who at the end of it all, would be forced to deliver the final blow which severed Noctis from his body once more.

Permanently.

I think it might be even worse, though. For Noctis to first see himself in the mirrors of Talcott's van. In glimpses, but never as a whole, because it's so damn dark and the sun hasn't risen - hasn't pierced the clouds of miasma - for near ten years.

If there was anywhere he'd be able to see his face, it would be at Hammerhead. Hammerhead, where his retinue was waiting - Prompto, and Gladio, and Ignis (who would, just like Regis, be unable to bear witness to Noctis growth).

They're all different, too. Gladio, with longer hair and more scars to count. Prompto, with a goatee a tad longer than Noct's stubble and facing down Daemons with more practice and experience. Iggy, who can't see, but learned to cook and fight again, with more lines on his face and scars on his hands from where others had helped guide weaponry or cookery away from himself before he had adjusted -

Then, Iggy being the exception (except for the visions in Altissia), they are the first people to see his face, besides Umbra, besides Gentiana, Talcott, the Glaives...

There's the feel of water dousing his hair, rolling down his spine and over his body, and it's not hot or cold - but lukewarm. People in and out of Hammerhead now, the power that goes into heating water needed elsewhere. The scent of bland soap, without any real fragrance. Clear water running dark down a drain as he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs - and he gets out, and he gets dressed in attire fit of a king.

A warrior, heading to war. A man, mortal and yet to become not, preparing to make a declaration to the heavens themselves not in words, but his own spilled blood staining the throne once built off of it.

Just. Noctis waking up after the crystal.

Feelings.

[failing-to-write-again]

Imagine Shu at a club with you

Its sweaty and loud...but at least you're here

Throw back to June (oops) where I promised to do my part of the deal of writing a Boyfriend!Shu at a human party. Reiji's version will be written by @bubblespalacee (no rush at all on this btw take your time) and @fangsforiris replied saying they might join and if they do I cannot wait to read and repost it.

Warnings : alcohol, swearing, DL vampire-ness, mildly suggestive no actual acts just allusions to it

The party was loud you had to admit, the fact you were still here was shocking. Your friends were slowly spreading out at this point in the night, the birthday girl having taken her boyfriend to some private corner promising to message before she leaves. Although with how many vodka blacks she has had it is probably wiser to just keep an eye on the door.

Shu had taken a place at the bar nearby while you danced giving you time to catch up with them. That and the fact that he would likely rather die than dance in the dense mob in the club. That doesn't mean blue eyes weren't following your every move the second you weren't by his side, piercing through any would be flirts getting too close. Whiskey in hand, earphones hanging from his neck he broods as your dark prince was prone to when around large groups. Walking towards him those eyes that once were sharp, soften into a half lidded stare paired with his classic smirk. As you reach him, a hand rising as natural as breathing to rest on your hip pulling you closer.

"You know," you begin, cocking your head as your hand rests over his, "it might be more fun to dance with your girlfriend instead of just staring at her." He lets out an amused snort, shifting his weight to his other foot and pulling you closer.

"Why move when the view is pleasant? Unless you want to grind against me lewd woman." You lightly slap his arm in response, eliciting a proper laugh from the blonde. It didn't last long though, his hands taking to wandering instead. Running up and down your arms slowly. His pupils were wider than normal, the alcohol mixed with your presence intoxicating him. He drops his head to your shoulder, sighing as he places barely there kisses against your collar bone.

"It's so loud in here, why can't they all be quiet and let me enjoy watching you in piece."

"I don't think it would count as a club is people aren't being drunk and rowdy Shu, we can go to the smoking area outside if you'd like."

Shu straightens back to his full height, taking your hand in his and leading the way through the crowd towards the cold night air. As you step outside you shiver, the temperature change catching you off guard. Moments later you feel the jacket you had picked out for Shu drape around your shoulders. The patio was much more sparse compared to the sardine can that was indoors. Yet still busy enough that nobody paid the two of you any mind as you sat against the low wall lining the area. It was raining just past the covering awning, tinging the air with a crisp, fresh smell. A cold hand resting against yours, fingers entwined as you both continued drinking.

While not fully drunk, you were enjoying the slight haze around you. The haze that has you not fully remembering the point where drinking stopped and kissing began, but you were also lucid enough to know you weren't about to stop. Shu, normally more intentional and teasing with his kisses, was instead hungry, barely letting you back away for air chasing your lips with his. The fingers on his left hand teasing just under the fabric of your clothes, while his right tangles in your hair letting him kiss you deeper. Your arms around his neck, twisting into the tighter curls at the nape of his neck. Your neck and his both having little nips and marks that were sure to remain into the next few days, and some new bite marks joined your ongoing collection.

Shu's hands moving to push you back, shockingly onto something soft. You take a moment to look around, realizing you are back in the mansion laying on the soft white sheets of Shu's bed. Your shoes and his on the rack by the stairs leading to his door, and his jacket thrown against the sofa. Shu took this time to approach, un-clipping his mp3 player and letting it drop onto the end of the bed. One knee rising to sit beside yours, his forearm holding his body above yours.

"I think I deserve to have my fun now, seeing as you like to tease so much...lewd woman."

[bxnfire]

Lines Blurred [Part II] || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: messing with each other for months now, you realized you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore. so what do you do? end things with satoru of course! except… it’s not that simple

✎ warnings/content: smut, fluff, slight angst, drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, fwb to lovers, pet names, you two are dumb, shoko n suguru are best wingmen, college!au

✎ a/n: this is a continuation!! even though you technically COULD read this as a stand-alone, i think it’d be more enjoyable if you went to the first part before reading this. enjoy ❤️

✎ first part here

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was November. With the colder weather sinking in the atmosphere, the want of being cozy became a need. You happened to notice that in this time of the year couples were particularly annoying; why were they everywhere? Anywhere on campus you would spot a couple canoodling each other to stay warm, and honestly? As much as you hated to admit, you couldn’t help but picture you and Satoru whenever you saw them.

It had been 4 months now since you two started being friends with benefits, and while it was going well, you found yourself wanting more. The chemistry between you two was unmistakable, your humors matched perfectly, you were both ambitious, and your sex drives, well, they fed off each other.

You lost count of the amount of times you’ve been up until early hours of the day pleasing each other, “watching” movies while fucking on your couch, unwinding after a particularly stressful day taking a bath together, or just giving into each other’s desires anytime, practically anywhere.

It was getting harder for Shoko and Suguru to ignore this. They loved you both dearly, but it was getting annoying watching you stupidly pining for each other, oblivious to the fact that the feelings were mutual. Even then, they tried their very best to not step in, or at least, Shoko did.

Suguru was exhausted of having to hear Satoru after he came from your dorm. He always had some crazy story, and his blabbermouth gave him the tiniest of details, and Suguru felt like he knew you better than you probably wanted to be known. It was that bad.

“Suguruuuuuuuu, did I tell you? She ate donuts off my dick!!! Oh and when I say ate I mean ate as if that was her last meal. And so then I put chocolate syrup all over her tits, shit tastes so fucking good Suguru, I swear-”

“Shut up! You’ve been talking non-stop about her since what, August? When are you gonna confess to her dumbass?” He asked exasperated, he would understand if it were something knew, or if you clearly, didn’t like him, but it had been months of this and whenever you and Satoru were in the same room you two were so consumed by each other, he didn’t think there’d be anything to fear, and he wanted his best friend to finally date for once.

“Well what if she doesn’t want to date yet? I remember we talked about it before doing anything, and she said that after her ex she was done with dating for a while, it’s not even been a year!” Satoru said frustrated, his recount of your conversation leaving him a little heartbroken.

“I say you should talk to her. Maybe with you she’ll change her mind? I don’t think she’d turn you down,” replied Suguru sincerely, he just wanted the best for you both.

“Well I’ll see about that. We’re meeting up later at a cafe and I might bring it up to her then,” he said, plotting how he could possibly confess to you without ruining the already blurred lines of your friendship.

“Good luck!” Suguru said, praying for the best outcome.

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

You were sitting in your dorm trying to study, but thinking of Satoru pulled your focus from anything you tried to do. Your feelings for him were consuming you, and you knew better than to confess, so you were thinking of how you could end your little arrangement in the best manner possible, and that is why you invited him to a public space: you knew that if you tried to do this in either one of your dorms you’d end up cuddled next to him after doing unspeakable things, forgetting the reason why you wanted to talk to him at all.

Deciding to leave your work for good and start getting ready, you get a text from Satoru.

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: yo sweets u ready?

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: i was wonderin if u’d like another typa snack after we were done at the cafe 🤤

💬 You: stoppppppp you’re too greedy

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: can u blame me? i have to see u walkin around lookin like a fuckin snack errr single day.

💬 You: boy…

💬 Toru 🍰❤️: yk i can’t help myself with u

You sigh looking at that last message, knowing he couldn’t help himself with your pussy, not you. You wanted to be with him so bad, but you thought it best not to mingle further with him. He would probably just get another girl and move on quick, and you would focus on your studies instead.

Heading over to the cafe, you replayed all your memories with Satoru for these last couple of months, wondering if you were truly ready to give all of that up. He sure was charming and very caring, but that’s probably how he was with the girls before, and how he will be with the ones to come. Taking this all with a grain of salt, you just settled on seeing it as a gain: if you kept your friend and went to a safer environment with him there’d be less of a chance to ruin it all right? Hopefully the distance you were going to create would spare your heart of more pain.

Once you got there, you saw Satoru sitting there already waiting for you with a couple of pastries laid out on the table before him. Smiling and waving as he saw you, you realized how hard it’d be to say what you needed to say.

“Hey there,” you said with a tiny smile, with a tone unlike the one you used for him.

“Hey, you ok? You sound a little off,” he asks worried, noticing the strangeness in your demeanor.

“All good, I just wanted to talk to you is all,” you replied, not knowing where to start or how to word your thoughts.

“Alright then, what’s up? Are you ok? Is calculus bothering you again? I could probably help you. Or is it something else?” He says, laying the things he wouldn’t be hurt to hear but also that he knew were probably troubling you.

“No! Oddly enough calculus is going well right now… I just wanted to talk about us,” you finally get out.

“Oh. What about us?” He said a little excitedly, maybe you’d ask him to be more than just friends with benefits?

“Well I just don’t think we should keep messing with each other this way anymore. I don’t want things to get too complicated, and I just think we’re bound to fuck our friendship over if we keep going like this,” you said, almost wanting to take it back when you looked at his smile drop.

“Did I do something wrong? Fuck I knew I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, I just went along for the ride but I knew you might’ve not been ready yet swee- Y/n,” he said defeated, completely discarding the plans he had made after talking to Suguru earlier.

“This isn’t your fault ‘Toru, and I want us to act as if nothing happened, I just wanted to let you know because I…” You trail off in thought, almost confessing that the only reason you wanted to stop is that you couldn’t stand loving him in silence while having to be oh so close to him.

“Because you? Just tell me Y/n,” he asked desperately.

“I think we’re better off as friends. The normal kind,” you say, trying your best to hold back your tears.

“Well then, if that’s what you think is best, I’ll respect your wishes, but don’t come crying to me when you miss me on those lonely nights,” he tried to joke, knowing damn well he, if anything, would be most likely to crawl to you than the other way around.

“Oh please, it’s not like you’re the last coke in the desert,” to you he was, but for the sake of appearances you return his energy, and said “I’ll still be around Satoru, just not to link up anymore.”

“I understand, you still down to study with me though? You KNOW how much help I need,” he asked, firstly to check if you truly meant what you said about staying “normal,” but also just to get the topic out the way and get going with the conversation.

After talking for what seemed like hours on end, you and Satoru understood that you needed to keep each other around, no matter what way it was, because your bond went beyond physical intimacy, it was pure love. You tried your best to show each other you could be civil, but the tension and your shared history made it hard.

You thought you’d be holding up well, but 2 weeks in and you already missed him. In the times you’d spend hooking up, he used to go to the gym instead, posting delicious yet tortuous pics on his story. You knew very well girls would probably be out there noticing how suddenly free he was most of the time, and would try to get on that.

Choosing not to ponder too much on it, you return to your homework and think of picking up a new hobby, one to take your mind off the blue-eyed boy you loved most. Suguru and Shoko took no time to notice the shift between you too, and even though they were glad you weren’t awkward, they missed seeing you both so happy to be with each other, when how whenever you two were together the bright, excited looks you gave each other were exchanged with longing, one that stupidly wasn’t picked up on by the other person.

Satoru was a fucking mess. He cried the night you told him to end things, convinced you realized that he wasn’t good enough for you. He respected your wishes, but for his own good, he kept healthy distance from you, he couldn’t bear to think that he messed things up. You didn’t study together nearly as often anymore, if you saw each other it was always with other people around, and you no longer behaved the same as before that one night you blurred the lines of your friendship.

Eating sweets more than ever, Satoru was acting as if he was going through a breakup. It was so bad, he no longer pretended to be charming about it. Suguru and Shoko were shocked; if you wanted each other so bad, why couldn’t you just get together?

Wanting to shake the stupidity out of you, they started to plan something to fix things between you two: a cabin trip for Satoru’s upcoming birthday. They don’t know how, but they’d figure out the way to get you both to confess, and finally get together.

It took a smoking session between those two to put together every single detail. Satisfied with their plan, they went on their own ways to get you both on the right mindset, seeing as you guys would probably not want to be so awfully close to each other for a weekend.

They decided to come to you first.

“Hey girl! We were planning to surprise Satoru on his birthday by taking him to a cabin in the mountains for the weekend, just us 4, whatcha think?” She asked excitedly, acting as if she knew things weren’t touchy between you two.

“I know you’ve picked up baking from what you told me, I think Satoru would really like him if you made his birthday cake, I think you know his taste best of all of us,” Suguru added, a sly smile coming along with that last comment, “so Y/n, you down for the ride? Remember, Satoru won’t know until the day of, so please don’t mention it to him.”

You paused to think for a minute. You and Satoru haven’t been the same for a little while, and even if you knew it was dangerous, you missed him so badly. You thought to yourself that maybe you could make some sort of unspoken amend by going on the trip and helping with the cake. Thus, you ended up agreeing to go there with them.

“Great! You and Shoko will go up there first so he doesn’t even know it’s a group thing. I’ll be taking care of the reservation and buy the decorations, so if you guys don’t mind please getting there first and putting them up? I’ll bring him there under the pretense that we’re going on a boys hiking trip, sound good?” Suguru asked, making you realize how thought out this already was.

“Perfect! Me and Y/n will get ready for that. You can probably bake over there yeah? We’ll have enough time until the boys make it there,” Shoko replies, leaving you to just nod in agreement.

Then, Suguru went to Satoru.

“Satoruuuuu! Whatcha doing for your birthday?” Suguru asks.

“I haven’t even thought about it, I’ll probably have a party back in our place and leave it at that,” he replied mindlessly.

“Well we can do that once we come back,” Suguru says nonchalantly.

“Come back? From what?” Satoru asks, suddenly actually interested in the conversation.

“Well I planned a hiking trip. Just you and me. Sound good?” Suguru replied casually, being certain Satoru wouldn’t put up a fight.

“Sounds good to me, when do we leave?” He asked just thinking about when he should start packing up.

“Friday,” Suguru says, “make sure you have enough clothes for the weekend and a bathing suit.”

“Gotcha!”

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

Friday came sooner than you expected. Having gathered both your bags and all the ingredients for the cake, you and Shoko got up to the mountains. You two got to work setting up the decorations in the house and once that was done, you started on the cake: a delicious pavlova, a favorite of Satoru. As you baked, you got increasingly nervous for the weekend to unfold: would Satoru be taken aback at the fact that you’re here? Would he be happy? Would he at least like the cake?

“Y/nnnnn how’s that cake coming along?” Shoko asks, knowing full well it was going to be good, given that she had tried some of your pastries before.

“I think it’ll turn out great!! Hopefully ‘Toru likes it,” you say, going back to your thoughts.

“Seems like you’ll find out soon! They boys will be here in 5 minutes,” she said amused, knowing full well you would’ve liked a warning some time ago instead of now.

“Fuck! Ok ok I’ll have this finished soon,” you said more so to yourself than to her.

“Take your time!” She said giggling, knowing you were going to become a nervous wreck.

The boys got there quickly after. Satoru was psyched to see you (surprisingly) and Shoko there, and as everyone set their bags down, you all decided to play a game as the night fell.

“But what should we play guys?” You ask, shuffling through the variety of word games there.

“I think we should play paranoia!” Says Shoko excitedly, looking over to Suguru so that he can agree.

“Yeah I like that idea, let’s get in a circle everyone!” He said, grabbing some bottles from the cabinets and a couple of shot glasses, “let’s play with a twist: whenever a question doesn’t get revealed to the group, we’ll all take a shot.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Satoru, “I hope none of you are lightweight.”

A couple of rounds passed, and you eased into the game and Satoru’s presence. Whether it was the alcohol or just enjoying being able to be near him in such a calm setting the reason why you were so happy you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter at all.

Until Suguru asked Satoru a question, and his answer was your name.

You anxiously waited for the coin toss. If it was heads, the question would be revealed to the rest of you, and you didn’t know which outcome would we worse, so you just waited for the longest 15 seconds of your life.

Heads.

“What was the question Suguru?” Shoko asks.

“Who do you have a crush on?” Suguru replies casually, looking over to you with a smirk as your cheeks grew red.

“Wait, is that true ‘Toru? Do you have a crush on me?” You asked baffled, thinking he’s playing some sort of game, but hoping he’s really not.

“You’re so dumb sweets. Yes, I have crushed on you for so long, but I didn’t have the nerve to tell you because I always thought you wouldn’t be into me,” he confessed, a weight coming off his shoulders.

You were so happy you forgot Shoko and Suguru were around, so you crawled over to Satoru and kissed him the way you’ve been wanting to for so long, hoping he’d take it as an apology for the mess you’ve made of your relationship.

Shoko and Suguru gave each other a grin as they stood up and conveniently decided to play pool downstairs. Satoru’s room was in the upper floor, therefore any noise you guys made would go unnoticed by them. This, of course, went unnoticed by you two, making your little bubble appear once more.

Satoru stood up with you in his arms, and without breaking the kiss he somehow made it to the bed in his room. As both of you lay down you break away from the kiss to talk to him. What you didn’t know though, is that he was not down to waste any time.

“I,” kiss, “missed,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “goddamn much,” you struggle to say as Satoru keeps pulling you back in word after word.

“Sweets you have no fuckin’ idea of how long I’ve waited for this. I have loved you since you helped me pass that fuckass Ethics class, seeing your beautiful face, kindness, and brains every day made it impossible for me not to fall for you. To the point where I knew about your breakup even before Shoko did, and every fucking day since I’ve tried my hardest to show you the love you deserve,” he confessed, blushing as he got the words out.

“Then why didn’t you tell me you wanted more than just being friends with benefits?” You ask, thinking of all the time you could’ve been together by now.

“I wanted to, believe me, but at first I didn’t know if you’d want to date me, I always remembered that you said you were done with relationships for the moment. I loved you, and still do, so much that I decided being something to you was better than being nothing at all. And after just linking for so long I started to think you’d never like me at all,” he explained, “it sure didn’t help that the day you broke things off with me I was actually planning on confessing.”

“Oh ‘Toru, the only reason why I broke things off is because I had fallen for you and was scared you didn’t feel the same way, that you only wanted to fuck and thought I was nice enough for that,” you confessed.

“Y/n, trust me when I say that ever since I noticed you, I haven’t been able to look at anyone else. You are the only one I’ve wanted this past 2 years, and to this day, I still would feel like the luckiest man if you gave me a chance,” he said, his eyes bright and smile soft, genuine.

“I-I don’t even know what to say, I didn’t expect this,” you say, wanting to play with him.

You can tell he regrets telling you by what he says next.

“Don’t mind! I can wait, I know I can be a little intense I just-” you cut him off with a kiss, putting your hands on his face and feeling him calm under your touch.

“You’re a simp oh my God, yes Satoru, yes I want to be your girlfriend,” you say smiling.

“You think you’re funny huh? I’ll show you funny,” he says, demeanor changing altogether.

He kisses you in a way that makes it clear he’s missed you. Overpowering yet loving, he kisses you as he puts a hand on your waist and the other comes up to your neck. Breaking the kiss in one swift movement, he puts his hand right below your chin, lifting your head up to give him easier access to your neck.

Kissing from behind your ear down to your neck, Satoru leaves hickeys to mark what’s his. Every so often he’d blow over the areas he had marked to make you shiver, getting your cunt wet in no time.

“S’toru, p-please keep g-going,” you breathe desperately.

“I said I’d show you funny didn’t I? You know, you’re hilarious when you beg for me sweets. Your eyes get teary, you sound so fucked out, and your cheeks are the cutest shade pink,” he said teasingly, “why don’t cha humor me and see if I’m feeling nice?”

“Satoru please fuck me, I need you,” you say shamelessly.

He starts going under your shirt and kissing all over your chest as he pulls your shirt off, making you moan once again. You pull his head towards your perked nipples, but before putting his mouth on them he speaks again.

“Sweets I’m sorry, say that again?” He asked as he starts to nibble on your tit.

“S-Satoru I-I need y-you,” you struggle to get out.

He caresses your pussy over your clothes. “Can’t understand sweets, mind saying it again? I don’t feel like you even really missed me,” he says finding your sweet little spot, making you even wetter than you already were.

“Satoru! I’ve missed you s-so m-much, m-my fingers aren’t l-like yours, and y-you’re all I’ve t-thought about this p-past month, p-please fuck m-me!” You say, trying your best not to moan, starting to feel something poke your leg, knowing you got him where you wanted him to be.

“Say less,” and he gets to work.

Satoru kisses his way down to your waist, leaving hickeys and bite marks here and there. He pulls down your pants along with your panties, and seeing how wet you were made his dick throb. Taking a quick second to take off his own clothes, he comes back up and gets an idea.

Flipping you two so you’d be on top of him, he grinds his bare dick on your wet pussy. Desperate to find release, you start rubbing all over him, making a mess of your arousal mixing with his precum. Both of you became a moaning mess, the friction of his dick hitting your clit and going up and down your slit had you getting closer and closer to the edge.

Switching positions, Satoru turns you around and makes it so that you’re on your knees in front of him. Admiring your backside as he strokes himself, he puts his other hand to use by fingering you to prepare for what’s to come. As you arch your back, Satoru puts in another 2 digits inside of you, not wanting to wait too long to start fucking you.

“O-Oh my g-god S’toru,” you moaned.

“I know pretty, I know,” he cooed.

Soon after he finally aligned himself at your entrance and fucked you from the back. Still wanting to please you with his hand, he resorted to using his thumb to rub on your clit as he deliciously pounded into you.

“F-Fuck! T-That feels s-so good!” You screamed in ecstasy.

“Take it sweets! F-Fuck!” He replied.

“S-Satoru,” you start to moan, like a chant, as if your brain knew nothing but his name, something that made him go insane, thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“Cum with me sweet baby! I want to feel you clench on my dick,” he said, and that is what you did.

Coming undone on his dick is a feeling you weren’t new to. Goosebumps all over your skin, glowing with a layer of sweat as your cheeks turn red and your eyes a bit teary, and yet, this time it was different. This time, you were truly bare, vulnerable with him, and he showed you that he could be vulnerable too.

After he came, he got up to get a towel from the bathroom to clean you up. Caressing your legs slowly to get the mixture of your juices out of the way, he stared at you lovingly. Going away again once more to get you both water, you succumb to the part of you that had been aching to just be with him.

As he sits back on the bed after drinking water, he pulls you closer to him, with an arm under your head and the other wrapped around your waist. In response, you put your arms around his neck and put a leg over his, and you both stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“Toru,” you say, breaking the silence.

“Yes, sweets?” He replies.

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you,” you say, giggling at how corny you sound.

“Who’s the simp now?” He asks, blushing at your shameless display of affection.

“Oh I have always been, you were just too dumb to tell,” you reply, wanting to cover up for your cheesiness.

“I could say the same about you sweets,” he says.

“Touché. Still, though, I mean it Satoru.”

“I love you too Y/n, more than you could ever imagine,” he says before giving you a sweet, long kiss.

After that, you guys just catch up on your stuff, realizing just how much you had been longing to talk to each other. The weekend went by pretty fast, being caught up having fun either with Suguru and Shoko or just between the two of you. Satoru jokes and complains about nobody getting him the dumbass shirt he’s been wanting for months, but in reality, there is nothing greater than the gift you gave him: being his girlfriend.

ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•i *⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

In the months following, he proved to you what love could truly be. He was your biggest cheerleader, your shoulder to cry on, your own personal jester sometimes because of how silly he could be, chauffeur, and overall, your best friend turned lover. You used to think that you were with the boy of your dreams a year ago, but now, with Satoru by your side, you realized how wrong you were.

Satoru taught you what love really was. The little things, like small sticky-note cards, knowing your order at the bakery you liked like he knew the back of his hand, to what exactly makes you come undone, to saying what you needed to hear, sharing jokes only the two of you understood, stolen glances, and caresses that only belonged to the two of you, became the most precious things to you. The day you became his girlfriend, Satoru pledged to himself to be the man you deserved ‘til the day he died, and so far, he has proved to be a man of his word, for his happiness came from you and only you, and having his life purpose to be making you happy by his side was the worthiest life of all.

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Accidental mate; chapter 9*~

Here it is! I’m so sorry for the wait 😂 It was one thing after another, but I digress! Thank you to everyone, (Anonymous readers too!) for your kind support and eagerness for this to continue. Special thanks to @clone-bar-79s for motivating me to finish this chapter!

"The good news is, you've got time. His next rutting season isn't for another six months, you've got time to come to terms with it, make a decision that's best for you"  the joyful Cadence had returned to Urahara's voice, at this point you were positive it was as much of a disguise of his true thoughts and feelings as his hat and fan were. He was kindly trying to put you at ease, not letting his true concern shine through. More than you felt you deserved in this moment.

Letting your hands drop, shoulders squaring in mock determination, you raise your face to meet his eye. Fake it til you make it. "Thank you for telling me,". You raise to your feet, ready to accept your fate. Taking in a deep, soothing breath to steady your nerves. You needed to find Grimmjow. "I'll consider my options thoroughly" 

Urahara jumped to his own feet, hands presented to halt your departure, apologetic look on his angular face. Hat still secure in his hand, he looked so much younger with his mop of blond hair on show"Actually, there's more you need to know" 

More? You sat down heavily in your chair. You didn't think you could handle any more right now, you were still digesting the information you had just been fed, mind dizzyingly running though the conversation in an endless loop of uncertainty and guilt. You didn't know why you felt guilty, but it was there, heavily sitting in your stomach.

"If you were to decide to pursue a relationship with Grimmjow, there are some other factors you need to be aware of" Urahara disclosed as he rejoined you sitting down. You felt a little overwhelmed with the amount of information you had already been given, mentally exhausted with the drastic change in your life you were presented with. Though it did pique your interest, what else were you about to discover about the complicated Espada? "I'm sorry, I know it's a lot to take in" 

Your face must have betrayed how you were feeling, given the sympathetic look Urahara looked at you with. You shook your head dismissively, it wasn't through any fault of his own. Your own gluttonous actions had lead to this fiasco. Yourself and Grimmjow. Your throat tightened slightly at the thought of you and Grimmjow together in the same sentence, a couple.

Couple of idiots, you snarkily reminded yourself. Might as well get everything out in the open now, to save you from any more unwanted surprises later down the line. "Now that he has mated, part of Grimmjow's instincts will have him wanting to scent mark you. Which could be problematic " 

"problematic how?" You never realised how ignorant you were up to this point about Grimmjow's hollow side. You never realised it went as deep and animalistic as scent marking. Something you associated with mammals claiming their territory, hopefully he used another method than what you were aware of. You were pretty open minded, but you drew the line at Grimmjow pissing around your home. Or worse.

"While for the bonded pair, it can be considered rather intimate, for other hollows it's perceived as a warning... or a challenge"  For the first time since you entered the room, you notice Captain Muguruma turn to face you, seemingly interested in this part of the conversation. Arms crossed over his broad chest, he leaned back to the same window ledge Captain Hirako was using to prop himself up. "I'm sure you're well aware of the Captains and Lieutenants who have a hollow of their own residing within" 

You nod, eyes flicking to two of the captains who were visoreds , struggling to find the energy to participate verbally to the conversation yet. Shinji sent you a lazy wave, confirming what you already knew. You had seen first hand the blackening of their eyes, the inhuman warble hissing from the buff captains lips. Felt the chill run up your spine when his eyes locked onto you with a predatory gaze.

"The pheromones Grimmjow left on you can be smelt by the visored." Urahara explained, placing his hat back atop his head. Everything seemed to be falling into place, everything you had been confused about the past few days, running through your brain without answer finally being explained. Ichigo had told you that you smelt different, Grimmjow attacking him shortly after halted any further explanation. Subconsciously you breathed in deeper, trying to detect any foul smell coming from you.

Not as subtle as you had intended however, by the chuckle Urahara gave "You won't be able to smell it, neither can we" he indicated to himself and Kyoraku. That was somewhat of a relief, unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but you didn't relish in the idea of smelling.

 "Only hollows will be able to detect it, a survival instinct. It activates their instincts of fight or flight. The weaker ones, the beta's, will see it as a warning to avoid you for fear of getting into a fight with your alpha. For the stronger Alphas, they'll view it as a challenge"

"A challenge for what?" You almost didn't dare ask, not sure you wanted to hear the answer.

"To take you from him" Shinji interjected, tilting up his head to show off his smug grin. "To prove their strength, beat someone as strong as Grimmjow, steal his mate, become the most dominant" 

Your mouth fell open, gobsmacked at the new information. This was why they were here? To what? Let you know before hand that they may try and take you from Grimmjow? You felt a little nauseated at the thought. You didn't want that. Didn't want to be seen as the objectified prize of some barbaric testosterone fulled game. Offended at the thought of being passed around by whom ever claimed victory. You wouldn't accept it. You didn't want Shinji or Kensei, you wanted...

"Don't worry, this isn't us warning ya ta lock ya doors or we'll drag ya off to our caves"  Shinji's lips pulled at the corners,slowly dragging his eyes over your figure appreciatively. You fought the urge to cover yourself up from his lecherous gaze. Damn pervert. He was only joking, surely. Distasteful and outrageously unprofessional given the circumstances and his status, but he had better be only joking. "Though.."  he gave you a scandalous wink when he finally made it to your eyes " I could be tempted"

"Don't be a prick, Shinji" Kensei snarled at his colleague, seemingly reaching the end of his patience with all his teasing. Shinji held his hands up in surrender before placing them in his pockets and leaning back against the window, sulkily rolling his eyes at his fun being stopped "was only teasin' " 

Kensei rolled his eyes before focusing them on you. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. While you didn't believe the head captain would allow any harm to befall you in his office, the large Captain scared you quite a bit. "Don't look at me with such a scared look on your face" he barked out the order, eye brows furrowed tightly. "We've got our hollows under control" 

"Most of the visored have beta hollows," Urahara took over the explanation again, saving you from having to change your facial expression for the short tempered Captain "Shinji and Kensei are the only two in soul society with Alphas. There shouldn't be a problem with Captain Otoribashi or lieutenant Kuna. " 

"Mines female, a lot easier to deal with then Kensei's." Shinji interjected, seemingly bored with the conversation now that he was denied his fun. You couldn't help but find the conversation fascinating. While you had heard the stories of Aizen's inhumane experimentation, Urahara's intervention and saving the hollowfied Captains and lieutenants, it was interesting in the way they described it. Like the hollow entity trapped within their own psyche, fighting to break out of their prison. "His is particularly aggressive.."

"An asshole is what he is," Kensei grumbled, cutting Shinji off from his deduction of the situation. Fixing you in his vision once more, he spoke with undeniable conviction "We have them under control, there won't be any problems now that we know what happened" 

"It was just a bit of a shock the other day". Shinji added, pulling attention back onto himself. You felt like you were getting whiplash, all this back and forth had the muscles in your neck stiffening "Never expected ta smell Grimmjow on ya like that, nor the reaction our hollows had " By the looks on Urahara and Kyoraku's faces, they've already been informed about your encounter with the Captains a few days prior. It eased your worry somewhat, the conviction Kensei had when he said he had his hollow under control. You released a shuddering breath, soothing the burning your lungs with the length you held it.

"You're perfectly safe here, YN. I have no doubt that the captains can control their hollows instincts"  Kyoraku spoke up, further soothing your worry. You trusted his judgment,he had proved his insightful deductions of situations to correct nearly one hundred percent of the time in your experience. He was a good judge of character. If he trusted the visored, then you could too. "The real concern lies with Ichigo Kurosaki"

"Ichigo?" You repeat surprised, you hadn't expected Grimmjow's sworn enemy to be brought into the conversation. You had just seen him. There was no reaction like what the captains exhibited. He treated you the same way he always had, friendly, relaxed. Though he did mention being able to smell you before Grimmjow attempted to knock his head clean off his shoulders

"Ichigo's hollow is still juvenile." Urahara picked up the conversation again, slipping easily back into rattling off the facts you needed to know "Though he is combative and defiant, he's not yet matured enough to want to seek out a mate, more interest in fighting for power over Ichigo. Given the history between Grimmjow and Ichigo, that could change once his hollow reaches maturity"

They were worried about it, you realised upon seeing the somber looks they all watched you with, waiting for your reaction. They were concerned not only for you, but soul society itself. There was no denying how incredibly powerful Ichigo was. No one had ever come close to reaching the level he had. The utter destruction he could cause if his hollow managed to break free and take over. The damage to soul society itself, the loss of life, the possibilities were staggering.

Grimmjow wouldn't refrain from doing something he wanted to do just because it may effect Ichigo. In fact you were pretty certain it would only make him want to do it more. Grimmjow's confidence in himself and his strength was bordering psychotic, he wouldn't care if Ichigo did challenge him. In fact, you believe he would welcome it whole heartedly, encourage it even. Idiot. He would fit in perfectly with the meat heads in the eleventh. He didn't care about the ramifications, so long as he got to thrive in the fight.

The subject would have to be brought up to both Ichigo and Grimmjow. You had the sinking feeling in your stomach, that you would have to be the one to convince Grimmjow to ignore his instincts and not mark you. If you decided to go through with it and be his mate. It would solve this problem if you simply refused to commit yourself to him, even though that decision would create problems itself. Your head was hurting, stress pinching the sides of your temples. It was too much, to many decisions falling on your shoulders.

"If Grimmjow can refrain from scent marking you,or we set up a plan for when he does, there should be little concern for ramifications". Urahara added to your silence. He could see your mind racing, thinking over all the possibilities of what you had just learned. He waited patiently for you to sift through your thoughts, silently watching as your unfocused eyes sharpened, to look him in the eye.

You had made a decision

"I need to see him

———

You walked in semi comfortable silence next to the eccentric exile, the clacking of his wooden foot ware against the stone floor, a steady beat to accompany his tuneful whistling. You appreciated the fact he didn't try to engage you in mindless chit chat as you followed him to his workspace in the outskirts of the twelfth division, Where Grimmjow was apparently staying until he was placed and housed permanently in a division. You just didn't have the capacity right now to pretend to be interested in anything Urahara could have to say to fill the silence between you.

Your mind was thick with all the information you had been given this morning. You struggled to sort through it, every question you had only leading to more questions, every solution met with an abundance of what if's and maybes. Ifs ands and buts attaching themselves to the end of every train of thought you rode on. You sigh mentally.

Remembering a time before Grimmjow forced his way into your life, with his aggressive nature and brash behaviour. When the only decisions you had to make were unimportant, mundane. Effecting you and only you. You couldn't believe how far away that seemed now. You hadn't even had the time to consider your own feelings yet. Grimmjow having invaded your every thought. Did you even like him? Well, no. Not really. His anger and snide comments annoyed you beyond belief. He was rude and infuriating, temperamental at best.

There was something there though, some pull you couldn't give name too. A niggling need in the pit of your stomach, Urging you figure out the puzzle that was Grimmjow. Wanting you to succumb to his unbending will, burn in his fiery passion. You were attracted to him, how could you not be? Handsome, strong. All the traits of a protector, a provider, that a millennia of evolution had you biologically trained to desire. There was something there. As much as you may want to deny it or ignore it, push it down and suffocate it until it no longer burns within you. It was there

A large hand settled on your shoulder, making you jump as it snapped you from your thoughts. Urahara didn't even try to hide the amusement on his face from your startled appearance. He nodded in front of you, getting you to see for the first time where you were.

"We're here" you sucked in a deep, soothing breath, releasing it slowly to rid yourself of the nerves threatening to shake you to your core. The hand on your shoulder squeezed comfortingly, departing with a tap "You'll be okay kid" 

Urahara pushed on, trusting you to follow. Opening the door with more vigour than necessary, he walked into the darkend space. "Honey I'm home!" You slipped in behind him silently, inquisitive eyes taking in the space. It was a large room, dimmed from the afternoon sun, with a desk littered with paper. Organised chaos immediately sprung to mind. Empty bottles of alcohol messily strewn on the floor, filling the space with the sharp smell of their remains.

Opposite you was a worn couch, currently moulded around the source of the rumbling growl you could feel reverberating through your chest. Grimmjow laid facing into the couch, back turned on his unwanted guest "Fuck off"  he grunted, curling in on himself, seemingly trying to disappear into the padding he was laying on. Arm thrown over his head, attempting to block out the punishing light streaming in from the open door, as well as the walking headache, Urahara.

Grimmjow Suppressed a groan, not ready to be rudely woken from his slumber. His throat was dry, scratching painfully around every forceful swallow he made in attempt to moisten the passage. His head thumped with every beat of his heart, every jolt a mercilessly cruel reminder of his rash decision making the night before. He didn't know what that freak kept in those bottles, but it sure as shit wasn't decent alcohol. Still he clung to the offered numbness it provided, willing himself to fall back into the black abyss.

"Come now ,Grimmjow," your eyes flicked to Urahara's back as he delved deeper into the room, approaching the temperamental beast with little regard to his own safety. Daringly poking Grimmjow in the back with the end of his cane, getting another growl in response "Remember your manners, we have a guest" 

"You can shove your manners up your..". Guest? Grimmjow felt his skin tingle, senses sharpening instantly. He inhaled deeply, tasting the air in the back of his throat. Mixing gently with the starchy alcohol and the dust imbedded in the couch was something sweet, rich, like thick honey clinging to the walls of the hive of the bees that created it. Fresh and salty, like the wind dancing over the oceans surface. You. You who he had ran away from, you with your bewitching eyes, your ensnaring lips. Ignoring the protesting scream of his head, Grimmjow pushed himself away from his forgiving nest, jumping to his feet, determined to not allow the discomfort to flash over his face

"The fuck do you want?"  He snarled at you, watching as your face betrayed your silly human emotions. Uncertainty, confusion, before settling on one he knew all too well, annoyance. He tried to glance at you sparingly, tried to keep himself from dissecting each and every aspect of your being, searching for the reassurance of your health. Your smell was tainted. Grimmjow could smell the musk of others lingering on your skin. He picked up the distinct notes of Urahara lingering on your clothes.

Another deep inhale and he picked up the signature of three others. The drunk, and the two who had acknowledged his claim on you. The discovery made his teeth clack together as his jaw tightened. Why the fuck were they all around his mate. Why were you looking at him, with pity.. and something else. Not quite fear.. but something he didn't recognise.

Eyes snapping to Urahara, Grimmjow snarled as he crossed the distance, chest rumbling with rising anger "What the fuck did you do!"

"Grimmjow.." Urahara's hand shot out to stop you from getting closer, halting your advance to calm him. Grimmjow roughly grabbed the lapels of his top, dragging him closer to the passed off Espada as he spit out the words "Why is she here!" 

Certain you would heed his advice and stay out of range, Kisuke lowered his arms to placate the emotional man on a subconscious level. "The head captain and I thought it best to inform YN of the situation between you." Grimmjows eyes widened, fingers slacking on the bunched up material. "We explained about the bonding, and what it means for ..hurmft!" 

The speed at which Grimmjow pulled back his fist and snapped it towards Urahara's face was impressive, if not for the unmanly exclamation of pain cutting off Urahara's explanation, you might've missed it all together. Almost instinctively you protested, scolding him with the disappointed use of his name, falling on deaf ears as Grimmjow pushed Urahara from his grip and into the desk behind him

"You had no fucking right" Grimmjow roared, fists shaking at his side with the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Fixing Urahara with a dark glare, he kicked violently at one of the many bottles left forgotten on the floor, ignoring it as it smashed into the wall with excessive force. Chest swelling with frustration, Grimmjow pushed past Urahara, heading to the open door, not even sparing you a glance. "Fucking stay out of my business old man"

"Grimmjow" you reached for him, his arm slipping just out of your reach as he jerked it away, stomping through the open door. Ignoring your soft call, ignoring the indignant cry of "Old man?!" Muffled by the hand covering his bloody nose. Grimmjow needed to get out, If he stayed he was going to kill him.

You watch him leave, sighing as he slipped from your vision. Your head fell into your hands, momentarily blocking out the room and the shit show that just transpired. How you and Grimmjow were going to come to any sort of middle ground when he insisted on running away way beyond you. You let your hands slip from your face, disappointed with how that turned out.

"that didn't quite go how I expected" you mumble, disheartened by Grimmjow's disappearing act. It cut you deeper than you thought it would've, now that you knew about the bond.. it hurt to see him distance himself from you again. To reject you.

"Really?" Urahara asked surprised, gently running his fingers down his sore nose to ensure it wasn't broken " It went exactly as I had thought" 

———

Grimmjow was seething. Rage coursed through his veins like lava, obliterating any coherent thought that wasn't tinged in anger.. Why the fuck were these damn Shinigami interfering with his business, with his mate! They had no right, no fucking right to tell you. They weren't hollows, they didn't have bonds, you weren't theirs! You were his, his mate, his responsibility. He was going to tell you. The right way, not fill your head with biased bullshit from shinigami who didn't know the first thing about him or his bond.

"Grimmjow!" He rolled his eyes at your call, not stopping in his desire to put as much space between you and that fool as he could. He needed a fight. A brutal, dirty battle, where he could let go, succumb to his unconscious mind, move and act without thinking, just reacting. "Grimmjow,"

Damn woman didn't know when to fucking drop it. Whirling round he scowled at her, arms folded defensively over his chest. Her cheeks were flushed.. delicate pink, likely brought on by the jog she fell into to close the distance between them. He could feel her warmth seep off her, radiating the space around her like the sun. It was pure and gentle, not brash and damaging like him. She stopped an arms length away, watching him cautiously. It pissed him off.

They each stood in silence, waiting for the other to break the awkward tension between them. Giving the other the opportunity to dictate the way in which this conversation would go, knowing that one misspoken word could result in vicious words being spat, one misjudged movement could have them colliding together in a rush of frenzied passion..

"What!" He snapped, having enough of her inquisitive stare. She had annoyed him endlessly with her fucking bitching and complaining, now she suddenly had nothing to say? He watched as your frown softened, eyes darting to the ground between them

"They were right in telling me Grimmjow. I needed to know.."  you spoke softly, concentrating on how best to gently speak your mind. You couldn't let him bury his head in the sand and ignore it any longer. Something needed to be decided between you now, before his next rutting season came along. Grimmjow's eyes flashed with your words, not yet ready to let go of his annoyance of his privacy being talked about by a bunch of damn shinigami.

" I was going to fucking tell you! I tried!"  Grimmjow snapped defensively, stalking closer to maximise the height difference between you. Intimidation was a weapon Grimmjow had used countless times, successfully, against bigger and stronger adversaries than the small woman basked in his shadow. So why was it that this woman was meeting his eye defiantly, not a shimmer or trepidation or fear showing on her face

"You've got to stop pushing me away, Grimmjow. I know now, so stop running away and.." Grimmjows fingers wrapped around your throat and stealing your breath. Pressure squeezing threateningly against the side of your neck, fingers twitching in warning. His hand trembled, you could feel the vibration against your delicate skin as his eyes burned into your own, darkly muttering inches from your face, hot breath dancing over your lips

"I don't run away from nothing" you instinctively took hold of his wrist, yet you didn't try to push him away. You could feel your blood pumping through your jugular vein, held prisoner against his dominating hold. It was a show, a display of strength of power that he so desperately needed to hold onto so not to submit to his own confusing contradictory impulses. You shivered at his dark tone, as black and as cold as the darkest of nights. You squeeze his wrist tighter, pouring out the light of understanding, the warmth of acceptance 

"I know your scared" you were too. Scared of these confusing, consuming feelings you had never wanted. Scared of change, everything comfortable and safe being thrown into disarray . Scared you wouldn't be able to make it work, that you wouldn't be enough. Terrified that it would. "I am too.. Im your....mate."  As quiet as it was, you heard the sharp intake of breath. You watched how his eyes widened, furious rage dulling behind his eyes. He's fingers loosening their grip on your neck by a fraction, startled by your acknowledgement, acceptance"we need to come together Grimmjow, work through this together, or you're going to suffer alone. I can't sit back and watch that happen"

"you don't owe me shit, I don't want your fucking pity" Grimmjow pushed you away physically and fugitively,  creating distance from the hope you cruelly dangled in front of his nose. A life line, in the crushing reality he unknowingly made for himself. You were speaking from guilt, from some twisted sense of duty. He wouldn't let anyone pity him. You reached for his arm, stopping him from turning his back on you. You couldn't let him run away again, couldn't let him think you didn't care

"It's not pity." You had to get him to understand. He was stubborn and pigheaded, but you could get through to him. You had to. "It's not guilt. Grimmjow, talk to me" 

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Grimmjow screamed in your face, hoping to scare you off. Better you run now, than to pull him deeper into your Facade. Give him a sense of stability, lull him into a fabricated delusion of belonging before you pull it from under him and watch him down. You didn't back down, didn't even flinch at the display of crazed hostility. 

"Nothing. I don't want anything from you but to try. Stop shutting me out"  Grimmjow ripped his arm from you, pacing back and forth as he run his fingers through his hair as you spoke. Like a caged animal backed into a corner, comforting himself with what little freedom he had left. Clawing to it possessively, fearing you would try to take that too. "I just want a chance, a chance to see if we can make more out of this.. bond, than this... constant hostile back and forth!" 

You were struggling to keep your emotions in check. You knew Grimmjow was impossible to reason with, challenging to engage with, with anything other than anger. You didn't want to fight. Didn't want to snap and resort to his default of shouting and snarky remarks. You knew he was struggling with what he was feeling, that he wasn't happy about this bond. But it was here, it wasn't going anywhere, and all this back and forth was grating on you. If you were struggling keeping your emotions in check, then Grimmjow was loosing the damn war. 

"I don't know what the fuck you want from me woman!"  he yelled in response, glaring at you with every pass he made with his restless pacing." I can't fucking break it! I tried!" 

"Im not asking you to break it! I know you can't, and I know that you would if you could, you're clearly less than fucking pleased to be lumbered with me!" 

"Then what the fuck do you want!"

"To talk! To get to know eachother, find some mutual understanding!"  You shout back, disappointed in your inability  to not resort to a shouting match. You took a deep, soothing breath. Pulling it as far down as you could before controlling the steady release, willing your annoyance to leave your body. "I thought we could start meeting up, go on a few dates and"

"Dates?" Grimmjow sneered the word, almost offended his tongue had to manipulate around the syllable. He scoffed, seemingly finished with his mindless walking around. At last.. progress

"It's when two people..."

"I know what fucking dates are!"  That interfering old man told him about them. Offering unwanted, idiotic suggestions when all he wanted was a solution to end this infuriating bond. They sounded like they consisted of absolutely fucking nothing Grimmjow wanted to engage with. Flowers and holding hands. Fucking strolling mindlessly through fields while this bitch talked his ear off. Not this Espada. 

Sure.. don't know how to use chopsticks but is well fucking informed on dates and courting. Urahara seriously needed to reevaluate his priorities in what to teach Grimmjow.. 

"I ain't gunna fucking coddle you. I'm not going to bring you flowers or listen to you cry about your damn nails and hair. If you want all that bullshit go date the old man! Leave me the fuck out of it!"

You were instantly offended. Trying to palm you off on another man for something you didn't even want. You had no delusions about Grimmjow. You weren't expecting romance or sweetness. You certainly weren't so shallow or materialistic to demand or expect him to pander to you. Even if Grimmjow refused to see it, you were a strong, self sufficient woman. You didn't need all that from another person, you were capable of providing it for yourself. What you did require was damn respect, honesty and the same damn commitment you were willing to put into this

"I don't want to date Urahara, you fucking idiot. I want to date.." your angry retort died on your lips at the surprise widening of his eyes, the anger slipping from his face almost instantly. Inhaling deeply, you decide to finish your unintentional slip strongly. No more games. No more tiptoeing around the situation. One of you needed to stop this ridiculous back and forth and start being honest, truly honest "you, I want to date you Grimmjow. I don't need flowers. I don't need gifts or for you to change to please me. I just need a mutual respect, and a willingness to try and see if we can develop our own feelings not dictated by your bond."

He stepped towards you, a hesitancy in his movements you had never seen from him before. Questioning eyes searched your face, piercing deeply into the emotions swimming behind your eyes. "Why..?"  Searching for a hint of deception.. a sliver of hidden motives. All he could find was honestly, vulnerability. He didn't know how to deal with that. Everyone had a hidden selfish agenda. A selfish motive for everything they did. He had seen it time and time again, offering help if only it benefited you later. 

"I don't know"  you spoke softly, not a remnant of anger in your voice. Grimmjow scoffed, shoulders sagging with disappointment. He nearly fell for it, almost believed your bewitching lies.. you took hold of Grimmjow's hand, stepping closer so he had no choice but to look at you "I can't give it a name... this..pull that I feel. This feeling I get when I think of you,  these reactions I have when I see you.." 

 Grimmjow's mouth went dry, swallowing thickly as he listened.. heart thumping so loudly in his chest he thought it would bust right out his rib cage. The solidified need imbedded within the very fabric of his nature, that had been ripping him from the inside out,  suddenly sparking wildly in his stomach as you voiced your want for him. Both your small hands holding his, caressing mindlessly over his fingers, mapping out the hardened callouses, your eyes watching your fingers dance over his skin.. 

Then you looked up, the purest of eyes, shining with vulnerability, need, desire. Looking straight though him, through his defence, his armour. His breath hitched in his throat when you looked at him like that, so open, so... honest

"I don't know what it is. But it's there. It's real, and it's growing and it's not going away. I want to know what it is Grimmjow.... I want to see what it could become " 

[landwriter]

Desperate Measures | Dream/Hob | 1.2K | G v silly and fluffy, literally 90% air, dream attempts a romantic gesture, hob is a sap and forgetful, human au, part text fic

for @domaystic drabbles, Day 6: Under the Same Umbrella

---

Dream woke up to 26 texts from Hob. He put on his glasses and began his morning read. It’d replaced Times for him. The editorial quality, he thought, was far superior.

Hob (7:19 am) heading out, gave you a wee forehead kiss and you didn’t even stir. sleeping bloody beauty. love you disgustingly much x

Hob (7:26 am) couldn’t find my umbrella anywhere can you take a look if it’s not too much of a bother? feel like i’ve gone mad

Hob (7:30 am) christ it’s bucketing down!! standing under the eaves just to tell you how much it’s bucketing down

plants will be happy at least so will my goth boyfriend ;) hope your writing goes well today love. extra atmosphere!!

Hob (8:42 am) nevermind don’t look for it remembered that i left it in my office told johanna she can use it since i’m at the archives all day anyway glad i’m not the only one who’d forget their own head if it wasn’t screwed on :) :) :)

Hob (10:11 am) you should’ve seen the look lisa gave me when i showed up had to dry myself off in the men’s w half a forest of paper towels there goes my carbon offset from walking i said christ you’re probably still in bed asleep warm dry!! lucky bastard

wish i could come back already and drip puddles all over you

Hob (10:37 am) if this keeps up i’m going to look like mr darcy in the rain on your doorstep tonight don’t worry i promise not to propose marriage while insulting you xx although i do love you most ardently

...elizabeth

Dream smiled, read them all again, contemplated, and then sent his reply.

Dream (11:01 am) Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through

Hob replied moments later.

?? you sound like a customer service agent wait you’re quoting the film you can’t reject me if i’ve not proposed to you!! yet!!!

Dream snorted. 'and I am very sorry I have caused you pain' went the line. They’d watched it last weekend. Hob had cried, and Dream had privately decided that if Hob proposed, he’d say yes. Even if it was poorly done. It wouldn’t be, though. Not if Hob was doing it. He sent a second text.

...and I am very sorry you were drenched by rain.

Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. His phone buzzed anew as he made tea and toast. He smiled at the sound. On their first date, Hob had warned Dream that he had a bad habit of annoying boyfriends over text. Dream, on his first date in six years, had wondered what it might be like to be so effusively charming that you could have enough boyfriends to form habits around them at all. He hadn’t known what to say, and Hob had ducked his head, grimacing a little, and said, “Just tell me to piss off, please, if I do? I know I can be a bit much.”

Dream believed it, because the man was telling him about his habits with boyfriends after one date. Not that he minded. And three months in, Dream had yet to tell him to piss off.

Turns out, a bit much was exactly what he’d wanted. Needed, in truth. Someone to tether him to the real world. His phone had become a modern-day lodestone in his pocket, a comforting pull of Hob-ness that would always point him back to life whenever he’d emerge, blinking and disoriented, out of the mire of his work. Work that he loved - creating worlds out of nothing, writing stories that would change people - but, coming on the age of thirty with nothing to show for it but recurring wrist strain and an upmarket flat that never had any guests, work that had also made him spend so much time apart from the rest of humanity that he was sometimes unsure how to rejoin it.

The tipping point had been when his eldest sister had found out that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in between two of their regular dinners. Which were monthly. It had been mortifying. She’d smiled sadly, which was excruciating enough, and then gotten the gleam of a plan in her eyes, which had been far worse. “I’m setting you up,” she’d said. “I know just the guy. We go way back. I think you’ll like him.”

He had. Now, when his phone buzzed, he found himself frowning if it wasn’t Hob. (An exceedingly rare occasion.) But this time it was, of course. Four short messages sent one after the other:

hahahaha ok fine that was v good enjoy your day x

Five hours later, not even the curtain of rain awaiting him outside could douse the anticipation in his belly. An idea, he knew, was a powerful thing. Dream didn’t have an umbrella - Hob always shared with him, and would’ve apologetically nicked his if he had - so he would make the first leg of the journey as Hob did. He intended to go and get something nice, but once in the cold downpour, his resolve failed him almost at once, and he ducked into the first shop that had umbrellas in the window.

“Hiya,” said the girl at the counter without looking up from her phone.

Dream ignored her, blinking the rain out of his eyes, belatedly registering all the merchandise had a unifying theme and that he’d made a terrible mistake, borne of sheer desperation.

“Would you happen to have any other umbrellas? In black?” he asked. Hidden behind the counter, perhaps. If only you knew to ask.

The girl looked at him with an air of disbelieving reproval only accessible to teenagers and the very elderly. “You could try Boots, you know. It’s just down the street.”

Dream looked out the window. Rain torrented down. Commuters hurried past with their sensibly coloured umbrellas. From places exactly like Boots.

“Or we’ve got rain ponchos,” she added. It sounded like a threat.

“Nevermind,” said Dream quickly. “I’ll take it.”

“Enjoy your visit in London, sir,” she called out as he left.

He stepped outside and flicked open the umbrella with slightly more force than necessary.

Dream waited a few paces outside the archives, wanting to surprise Hob properly. Two separate pairs of tourists had thought he was their London Ghost Tours guide, and he was beginning to regret not holding out for longer, drenching be damned. Then Hob emerged, striding out and immediately stopping to pull out his phone. He was smiling at it. Dream smiled too, in anticipation.

A moment later his own phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, and Hob looked up in surprise.

“Oh my god,” he said. Then he said it again.

“I heard you needed an umbrella,” said Dream. He’d had the line already, since he got the idea. It had been very dashing and romantic in his head. It was somewhat undermined by the dreadful costuming choice that had been forced upon him.

Hob looked between Dream and the umbrella, bafflement melting into a happy laugh. He ducked underneath, pecking Dream on the lips. “I’m not sure I needed one quite this badly. Did you rob some poor tourist?”

“Unhappily, I paid for this.”

“Oh no,” said Hob, pulling away and pretending to inspect him for injury. “My poor darling. Your dignity.”

Dream sniffed. “I will recover.”

“Here,” said Hob. “I’ll carry it for you. You’ll only be guilty by association, then.”

They began walking, a bobbing Union Jack in a sea of blacks and greys. After the chief sin of ugliness, it was also a little small for two grown men, but Dream found he didn’t resent that at all, as Hob tucked him tightly into his side to keep them both dry. People gave them a wide berth. Tourists could never be trusted with umbrellas.

“You’ve rescued me, you know,” said Hob, nuzzling into his cheek.

“It wouldn’t do to have you dripping puddles all over the floors,” said Dream.

“Even if I looked terribly handsome, all wet and ardent?”

Dream bit his lip and smiled a little. “Perhaps you can be wet and ardent in the shower. Instead.”

Hob laughed again. It was Dream’s favourite sound. “Much warmer than the rain anyway. Deal.” Rain drummed down on their private nylon ceiling. “I was thinking chicken tikka masala for dinner?”

And so they made their way home, and although the rain never let up, Dream was so content and warm that he might’ve sworn they were walking in the sun.