#watching them open up over 15 years is like

[the-fyre-flie]

Bruce Wayne, 15, going with Alfred to visit Smallville after a tornado as a part of a charity/emergency relief effort, meeting also 15 year old Clark Kent, a very nervous farm boy who eventually opens up and matches his energy.

They are, at first, terrified of each other. Bruce is anti-social, and Clark is socially anxious. Clark is still trying to keep his powers under wraps, but Bruce is observant and seems to always be on his tail.

Bruce, leaning over Clark's shoulder: that lumber weighs a lot. Too much for an adult male.

Clark, who totally forgot he was being watched: oh uh... being farm raised makes me... stronger?

Bruce: hmmm... sure.

Clark is trying to direct Bruce through chores and cleaning up the half wrecked farm, and while Bruce is doing what he's told, it's obvious there's a lot of friction between them. Alfred and the Kent's watch their sons work to fix a fence, the pair slowly warming up to each other. The adults smile and chat over tea and pie while the boys fix the farm. Alfred says this is good for Bruce, working with normal folks and not being cooped up, and the Kent's are like 'haha normal yeah sure if only you knew'.

By night fall, Bruce and Clark are bickering over how to paint the fence, white paint all over Bruce's suit and Clark's hair. From afar, it looks like they're fighting, but to their parents, it looks like they're having the time of their lives with their new friend. They're shoving each other and fighting for the paint can, and when they eventually get scolded by Ma Kent and Alfred, they head inside and eat together and continue their bickering.

[falling-star-cygnus]

i've been rooting around the wbk fandom and manga for a little over a week now, and i've made a few posts just about some observational things, sooo now i feel a wee bit more comfortable posting something more indulgent :3 -> it's like leveling up in a video game, where you gotta learn the controls for the first 10-15 levels until you can participate in the fun stuff T^T

Nirei, Sakura, and Suo's dynamic is so very, very adorable. i wish more people talked about how cuddly they are with each other 😭

Nirei Akihiko and Suo Hayato's Top Secret Guide to Being a Grade Captain's Charger Or, Sakura Haruka's Emotional Support Vice Captains

"You guys ever notice..." Anzai starts.

The small group of first years' gaze is drawn over one by one. First to Anzai, and then green, brown, amber, and red eyes pulled to the shwip of the door opening.

This early in the day, the people entering and leaving didn't cause much fanfare. Sure, you might perk up when you saw your friend, get giddy to share news that couldn't be conveyed properly over text, but all in all it wasn't really anything out of the ordinary.

A freckled blond strolls in.

"...that Nirei gets away with a lot more than we do?"

With his hand wrapped around Sakura Haruka's upper arm.

The group of four feels an irrational swell of jealousy, one that they’ll deny to their graves.

It wasn't like Anzai was wrong, even if it was an unwanted dose of reality. Out of all of them, Nirei- whether it be because of his puppy like energy or his position as one of Sakura’s first friends- always seemed able to squeak into contact with their bristly captain without his alarm bells going off.

Seriously.

It was impressive, actually, Kiryu had tried to brush some of his darker hair out of his face once- buut Sakura hadn't seen his hand coming until it was right in front of his nose. Both of them had frozen at the resulting flinch, as dishearteningly natural as it was.

Kiryu didn't really let it deter him, though. Sakura's hair was really soft. Anzai would know, considering he got a face full of it when he tackled him that first day. Also positive reinforcement 'n conations 'n all that.

Anyway- honestly, the only one that even came close to Nirei's level of allowed tactility was..

“Oh? What makes you say that, Anzai-kun?” Suo asks, smiling like they couldn't all see how he tightened his grip on his wrist. 

Greedy bastard. At least Nirei was practically impossible to hate.

And Suo got away with blatantly staring at their grade captain's pretty features, so Anzai thinks he really shouldn't be complaining.

"Why're you actin' like that, you get his attent-"

“I told you, it’s fine!” Sakura is huffing at the blond, unintentionally interrupting as the two came closer, “It’s not even that deep.”

“It could still get infected-”

The attention shifts again, this time to the hand hidden inside the bicolored boy's pants pocket.

"Hmm? Did Sakura-chan get hurt on his way here?" Kiryu questions, shifting closer as Nirei starts talking with Suo [eh, somethin' about missing him this morning?]- though the blond's hand slips down to his captive's elbow instead of entirely letting go.

"Wh-? As if! Nire- he's overreacting!"

Annd there's that familiar blush, rosy down to Sakura's accusing finger. ....is that healthy? It's cute, no doubt, but are hands supposed to blush? They're not, right?

Eh, Anzai will ask Nagato later. It's been a while since they hung out one on one.

"No, I'm not! You're- mmph!?"

"Shut up, shut up! It's not important!"

With Sakura's hand clamped [gently, oh so gently, everyone notes] over his vice's mouth, Nirei can't do much more than make some worriedly frustrated noises. He's still clinging to their bristly captain's arm, as if trying to pry out the injured hand into the open through sheer force of will, and-

"DID YOU JUST LICK ME!?"

"YOU WEREN'T GONNA LISTEN OTHERWISE!"

...they're rowdy this morning.

Suo, the asshole, is just watching with an elatedly amused curve to his eye- like observing a ping pong match.

Unnoticed by everyone, the desk the group was gathered around contained one slowly rousing Sugishita. Well- they knew he was dozing there, but none of them really knew how long he'd been listening. Or awake.

Had he been awake the whole time?

It'd clearly been long enough regardless, because he reaches his lanky arm up- perfectly level with Sakura's pocket in his slouched malaise- and lifts the bicolored captain's hand into view. Like a princess.

The result is near instantaneous.

Like a feral cat, Sakura throws himself backwards and out of Nirei's hold with a startled screech- kinda adorably reminiscent of a tuxedo arching it's back and hissing- but he doesn't really get far when Sugishita shifts his grip to his wrist to keep him from bolting.

....and Sakura's wrists were really small.. or maybe the blue haired fanatic's hands were really big? He only had to use his pinkie and thumb to completely loop around it.

Both could be true.

Also wow. Their relationship really had changed since Noroshi.. it still couldn't really be considered friendly, of course, but...

Hey, wait a second-

"WHAT DID YOU DO!?" Anzai balks in pure astonishment, finally registering the absolutely demolished knuckles of his grade captain. They're practically skinned to the bone!

Seriously, they're horrific looking- skin is literally dangling off in places.

Sakura squirms, concerningly red in the face and heaving in the chest as he tries to free his hand, but Suo maneuvers his way behind him to gently grab his shoulders.

"Calm down," he cajoles, ever the greedy, soothing gentleman, "We're just worried, Sakura-kun, no one wants to hurt you."

...right.

Maybe they were coming on a bit too strong. Sakura's trust in them was still a fragile thing, barely planted with a bud as new as spring flowers and... ah, Sugishita could do this metaphor better. Something, something, too much water and fertilizer at once?

Point is- they had to go slow. A little at a time.

"I- I knew that," their captain bristles defensively, his raised shoulders lowering as Nirei wraps himself around his arm again, "I just- I wasn't expecting to get grabbed-"

"Eh? But didn't Nire-chan and Suo-chan grab you just now?" Kiryu cuts in, returning from wherever he had disappeared to [Anzai feels a little bad for not noticing his departure] with a roll of bandages and cleaning solution.

Unsurprisingly, that just makes their captain flush darker.

"That-! That's different-"

Oh?

Anzai grins.

"Reeeally?" he leans close, but takes care not to brush against him just yet- there's already three people touching his bristly captain, and five in total crowding him- "Why is that?"

Distantly, he wonders if they make cosmetics in the color Sakura is turning. Maybe Tsuchiya would want some..

"They're-"

"Special?" Kiryuu heckles lightheartedly, leaning over Sugishita to gently pat the cleaning solution into the cuts.

Sakura doesn't even flinch. Anzai's chest squeezes again.

"H-Hey! Don't put words in my-"

"Aww, Sakura-kun. We're touched," because, of course, Suo had to rile him up even further, "We are your vice captains, after all. It makes sense."

Smug bastard.

"It's not like that- You volunteered for that role!" Sakura continues to deny, getting dangerously close to overheating, "You two just- don't... count. For some reason."

...he doesn't even realize.

He doesn't even realize!

Anzai has never been so jealous in his fucking life-

Nirei squeezes their grade captain's arm closer with sparkles in his big brown eyes, "Sakura-san..."

"So how did your knuckles end up like that anyway?" Anzai butts in, forcing his gaze to where Kiryu was gently taping the gauze down.

Sugishita was still holding Sakura's wrist still, but at least the limb wasn't trembling anymore. Still stiff as wood, though, but progress is progress so he'll keep his mouth shut.

Their grade captain goes silent- his ahoge practically crinkling from the heat emanating from his face.

The four look to Nirei.

"Ah, Sakura-san.." he prompts, patting his captive's elbow, "You should be the one to tell them!"

Suo squeezes his shoulders, curious himself.

Sakura stays silent.

"I bet it'll make them reeeally happy!"

....maybe the blond was more devious then they all thought.. or maybe Suo was just rubbing off on him too much. Either way, their captain relents the slightest bit.

"There was... a fight."

"Yeah.. we figured." Anzai can't help but deadpan.

And then he wants to kick himself, because Sakura was sharing and if Anzai was the one that made him retreat back into the shell everyone was trying to crack, then he'd never forgive himself-

Sugishita kicks his ankle for him. Which- surprising, but also fair.

"They were- saying shit. About Kiryu," it's honestly a miracle Sakura hasn't ground his teeth to dust yet, "'...'n Suo.... and Sugishita.."

Their bicolored captain raises his injured hand to the back of his head- out of Sugishita's surprise loosened grip- and ruffles up the strands as he attempts to glare holes into the edge of the desk. His face is as pink as his namesake.

"And you," Nirei tacks on, but Sakura just shakes his head.

"I don't care about that, they can say whatever they want about me- I'm used to it."

He shouldn't have to be used to it, they all think bitterly.

"But they don't know you guys," Sakura bulldozes before any of them can say as much, "It just- pissed me off."

That seems to be his limit, because as soon as that final word rings out he's whirling around hiding his face in Suo's shoulder. The eyepatched bastard is caught so off guard that it shows on his face.

"Oh my," he says, tentatively resting his hands on his captain's shoulders, and then he smiles again... all soft and unslimy-like that it's a little off putting, "So our dear Sakura-kun was defending our honor~ How sweet."

Sakura defended them.

Unlike his usual backhanded compliments, this one from Suo sounds so genuine.. Suo, Kiryu, hell even Sugishita look a little awed in different ways- though the blue-haired fanatic looks pissed about it a second later and puts his head back down against his desk. Kiryu pats his shoulder consolingly, clicking a million photos away on his phone of their bashful captain.

...Anzai'll have to pester him for some of those later.

Sakura weakly punches his vice's shoulder, his knuckles bright pink [seriously, is that healthy?] and his ears much the same.

Maybe they still had to go slow with their affection, still had to ween the bicolored boy off the loneliness that plagued him like an addiction, but the rewards were more than worth it.

How anyone could look at Sakura and not want him in their lives was a concept that Anzai couldn't grasp at all.

Sakura Haruka, the boy who jumped fist first into protecting those who couldn't- their grade captain that wanted all of them to be safe and made himself literally sick with worry after everything with Keel.

How could anybody not love him?

How could his old town look at him, truly look at him, and not want to crawl into his skin to make a home?

It was their loss, now, regardless.

Sakura Haruka belonged to Makochi.

And Makochi was greedy enough to want him all to themselves.

[heartforbangtan]

The only exception | 4

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader 

Genre:  Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining 

Chapter Count: 4 /? (ongoing) 

Word count: 7,5k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: Hiii, I'm back agaaain. This chapter is a bit spicy 😋😋 just saying 👀

Tag list

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Our secret moments in a crowded room They got no idea about me and you  Dress – Taylor Swift 

Busan 

You don't know when it started, but suddenly Jimin's favorite hobby was flirting with you without anyone seeing. More and more he said things that drove you crazy. And you never knew if he was telling the truth or just teasing you.

You walked down the school hallway during your break, looking for Jimin who was in a different room in this class.

You hear a voice calling you and look back. A girl you've only seen a few times at school approaches you with red cheeks. You can't remember her name.

“Hey...“ she says with a little smile.” You're Jimin's friend, right?’

Oh, you knew what this was. She was interested in him. Here we go again.

It was a question she knew the answer to, after all, everyone at school knew that you two were friends.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“So... can you please give him this note?“ She hands you a small piece of paper. ”It has my name and number written on it.’

“Okay…” you agree a little reluctantly, but she didn't even notice because she was too focused looking behind you.

You really didn't understand that. If she wanted to talk to him so badly, why didn't she just give him the note herself? It would give off more of an air of trust than sending others to do her job. You were too tired of that.

When you turn around, you find Jimin across the hall laughing with some friends. Seriously, she's so silly about this.

You take a deep breath and give her a toothless smile. When you turn back to find Jimin, he's already looking at you, smiling. You walk towards him and Jimin separates from his friends and heads further to the right side of the hallway to meet you.

She watches as you go talk to Jimin.

“Hey” you say smiling as you stop in front of him.

“Hi.” Jimin smiles seductively and you know that smile is what makes girls fall in love.

But you won't fall.

“So…” his gaze goes to your hand holding the note.

“You already know what it is." You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Give it to me.” He stretches out his hand and you hand him the note. Jimin opens it and takes a look, without taking the shit-eating smile off his face.

Jimin leans close to your ear to speak while looking at the girl.

“I only have eyes for you, you know that. “ Jimin chuckles and you are left speechless.

What?!

He gave the girl a wink, but you couldn't see it.

Jimin puts the paper in his pocket and walks away laughing. You blink a few times and then compose yourself. The girl was almost jumping up and down where you left her waiting.

Within seconds you had to process what happened and come up with an excuse for her, because she was already coming towards you.

“So? What did he say?” she asked excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“It’s...He said he'll send a message.”

You felt bad, but what could you do?

“Oh my god, thank you so much“ she hugs you happily and you don't have time to hug her back before she leaves to meet her friends.

The girl, whose name you didn't even care about, leaves happily to meet her friends and tell them what happened. But you remain almost paralyzed in place, still thinking about Jimin's words.

Seriously, who can handle that? There's no way he could have shaken your foundations with just those words. Even though you reminded yourself every day that you wouldn't fall for his charms. Here you are now, blushing like a 15-year-old (which wasn't that long ago). But that doesn't matter.

When the break is over, you're still thinking about the same thing. And when you walk back into the classroom and see Jimin acting like nothing happened, you almost think you've imagined things.

You can't believe the nerve he has. How could he say that to you and then act like nothing happened?

You sit at a table in front of him, but you don't give him any importance. You take your things out of your bag and start organizing them on the table so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Soon the grammar teacher enters the room, arranging his own desk before starting the class.

You sigh deeply. The last thing you wanted was to have grammar class. But finals are approaching and you can't afford to miss them.

While you're distracted looking through your notebook for the last notes from your grammar class, Jimin leans over his desk behind you. His chin stops just above your shoulder, making you jump in your seat and he pulls away.

“Easy, baby.“ Jimin says softly just for you to hear.

You close your eyes tightly, anger taking over your body.

It's obvious he would make fun of you. And the fact that you reacted exactly the way he wanted makes you even angrier. You wish you had more self-control.

“Don't call me that.” you say through your teeth quietly, only for him to hear too.

Everyone is still talking in the classroom, so almost no one pays attention to your little interaction with Jimin.

“Why not?“ he pauses dramatically. ”Baby?"

You turn around so you can look him in the eye and find Jimin looking a little seductive for a thursday morning grammar class.

Jimin subtly runs his tongue across his mouth and your eyes betray you when they fly straight to his mouth. You hate yourself for this once again. Once again you fell into his game. And Jimin is already smiling when he realizes that for a second you looked at his lips.

“You piece of sh…”

“Well, everyone, let's start today's class. Please be quiet.”

You let out a snort and turn around, not before seeing Jimin staring at your mouth and then quickly at your eyes.

He is unbelievable!

The rest of the class passed by in a torturous manner. You could barely pay attention to the new concepts the teacher was talking about because you were too aware of Jimin's presence behind you.

“Or Jimin really likes you or he's gay.” Yuna says with the calmest face you've ever seen, as if she hadn't just made you almost choke on her words.

“What did you say?”

You have to stop your snack to question her. You heard very well what she said, but you can't believe it.

“That's right, you heard it. Don't pretend you don't see it either.“ She raises an eyebrow, showing that she's not joking about the subject.

You shift uncomfortably on the grass of the schoolyard where you are sitting during break.

“I don't think he's gay…” your mind flies to all the moments you had together and a shiver runs down your legs.

“So he likes you.” she doesn't hesitate to say.

Yuna speaks as if she were saying that the weather is sunny today.

“I don't think that's it either. “ your heart was beating fast in your chest.

“Really? So how do you explain the way he looks at you and the care he only has for you?”

Yuna crosses her arms in front of her body.

“It's just... normal. We're like brothers, we've known each other since childhood.” you start to sweat nervously at your friend's question.

You know she doesn't mean any harm. But you weren't prepared to hear today that Jimin seems to have feelings for you.

Exactly this week. After all the wills you had to go through.

Today really wasn't your day.

“My brother doesn't treat me like that. He's always hitting me and calling me a pig for leaving my towel in the bathroom.” She laughs and you force one too.

“It's just the way he is.”

And you're not lying when you say that. Jimin has a gentle way of being that no one you know has. He's just him.

And you're sure he doesn't treat you in any special way. Jimin is kind to everyone and that's easily noticeable. There's no reason to second-guess yourself because of it.

“Oh stop, tell me you don't have a little crush on him”  she pushes your shoulder and waggles her eyebrows.

You stay silent for a few seconds, but she doesn't give you time to question yourself.

“Come on!” she almost whines, while continuing to push you with her shoulder.

“Think about his thick lips and... Oh! His hot ass, jesus!”

“Stop it!”

You two are laughing so hard.

“I don't know. Maybe?” you laugh shyly and she widens her eyes.

As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

This was sure to spark gossip. And you really didn't want people to start bothering you about it. Not after you and Jimin had spent so long denying that you liked each other.

“See? I knew there was something there. Hoseok owes me 10 dollars for this.” she celebrates without even paying attention to your terrified face.

Wait. Hoseok?

“Hoseok owes you? What the hell is this?” your face contorts in confusion.

“Oh, honey, we all bet you two have a crush on each other. I just didn't think it would be that easy to get it out of you. “ She laughs and you get a little irritated.

“You mean you don't care about my feelings?” your tone changes and her playful expression falls.

This is so out of line. You didn't expect your friends to make bets involving the two of you like this.

“Y/n, it's not that. Please don't think about it this way. We all want you to be together, trust me.” she holds your hand and has a genuine expression on her face.

You feel like she's starting to get a little desperate in the way she talks.

“You're already assuming he has some kind of interest in me.”

You play dumb to her, even though you know that Jimin is interested in you. But you think that maybe it's not like that. You think that what you two do is just a fun pastime and that it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.

And you know that for you, things are becoming problematic. But maybe for Jimin, it's just fun to have a girl available for him to kiss. And being you, someone he knows, makes everything easier.

And deep down, really deep down, you'd like to hear from an outsider that Jimin seems to like you. Somehow it comforts your heart and your ego, even if you have to ask him directly to be sure. But obviously you're not going to do that.

“Oh, come on. Everyone can see that he has a huge crush on you.”

Your face heats up once more at her words.

“I don't think so.”

“Seriously? Everyone has already noticed you two being clingy with each other. Oh chimchim this, mimi that“ she does a terrible imitation of your voice and you push her aside.

‘Stop it. I'm not like that.” you start laughing, because it's ridiculous.

And it's true.

“Of course it is. Ugh, I can't stand you two, seriously. I wish I had someone like that for myself.”

She rolls her eyes and you both start laughing.

It had been a while since you had shared something so intimate with someone other than Jimin.

Sometimes it was nice to have a girl talk.

“But seriously, is there nothing going on between you two?’ she nibbles on the cookies you are eating.

You stop and think.

It had really been a long time since you had any girl talk. What harm would it do to have some of that now?

You needed that escape.

“Okay, if I tell you, will you promise me two things? “ you say, uncertain, but already implying that you have a secret.

She widens her eyes and finishes chewing the cookie.

“Sure, I promise you even three." You laugh at her face. ”Seriously, no bets now.”

You straighten up on the grass you're sitting on.

“First you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“Second, please don't freak out too much about it. It's really no big deal.”

You know it's a big deal.

“Okay…” she analyzes you, waiting for you to continue.

“Seriously, don't tell anyone.”

“Just say it already”

“So... we've already, um, kissed “ you fiddle with your fingers looking down, because you're dying of embarrassment.

Her jaw drops and she even drops the cookie she was holding.

“I knew it! I knew soo much! My God.”

You glared at her.

“Alright, alright, no freaking out.”

She tries to control herself.

“When did it happen? Like, how? Oh my god, there are so many questions.”

She looks like a crazy person looking at you.

“Okay, calm down. It's not a big deal, it's just kisses.”

“Kisses? In plural?”

Shit.

You cover your face with your hands, blushing. You're starting to think you've said too much.

“You're so dirty! I can't believe you gave kisses to Park Jimin! “ she slaps you on the arm

“It's no big deal, I swear.”

“Okay, but how did this happen? Tell me the details, for God’s sake.”

She shakes you by the arm.

“I don't know. It just happened. I won't tell you too many details…”

“Urgh, okay. But... when was the last time you guys kissed?’

You pause, wondering if you should tell her. She looks at you with a dramatic look, as if to say, “just spill it.”

“Y-yesterday”

Her jaw dropped for the tenth time today. You blushed again.

“Yesterday?! That's insane.”

“Keep your voice down, everyone will hear you.”

You look around suspiciously.

“You're so in love!”

“That's not it!”

“Oh, it is! My God, you guys are so stupid.”

You start to pack your things because the break is almost over. But really you just wanted an excuse to get out of this subject. You're starting to get nervous.

“I shouldn't have told you that.”

“Hey!”

She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her.

“It's alright, okay?” she looks deep into his eyes, seeing the desperation.” It's okay to like someone, even if it's your best friend.”

You try to let go of her because your heart starts to tighten and you don't want to start crying in the middle of the courtyard.

“He likes you too.”

She says in a last attempt to make you listen.

“This won't lead to anything.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

She's getting up too and you kind of turn your back, grabbing your backpack.

“There's nothing to say.”

“Y/n…”

“Enough, okay? I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

She looks a little sad, but she understands your request.

“Okay. Just know that I will always support you.”

Your heart softens a little, despite the erratic beats it's making.

“Thank you, really.”

“And I won’t tell Hoseok that I won the bet.”

You slap her arm and she starts laughing.

And you walk together to your next class, with time running out and arriving 5 minutes late. 

After all the talk with Yuna, you suddenly became very aware of Jimin's presence and all his actions towards you.

And deep down you wish he liked you too.

Jimin is researching dance schools on the computer in his room. The research has been long and he hasn't been happy with some of the comments. Jimin watched some videos explaining how the selection process works for most schools, and some of the comments on the videos complained about the strict rules of these places.

A random comment said:

Kot878: These places are tough on training. And they don't even let you date!

That couldn't be true, right? About the training maybe, but they couldn't forbid them from dating, right?

Jimim got nervous. He knew he wasn't dating anyone, but he couldn't help but fantasize about it. What if you liked him too? Maybe you could date, right?

Jimin was paralyzed looking at that comment, when he heard the sound of footsteps and the door to his room was quickly opened.

“Boo”

Jimin gets scared by you and quickly closes the browser window.

"Shit! Knock before entering.”

“What are you doing? Watching porn?” you giggle and move closer to him.

Jimin was already nervous because you almost caught him looking at that information, after what you said he got even more nervous.

“O-of course not. Are you idiot?”

“Then why did you close the browser window?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and move closer to the computer.

“I was just looking at some dance schools.”

And suddenly you forgot that you were questioning him. Your face lit up with his words and you became excited.

“Really? And how is it going?”

You sit on his bed, waiting for him to answer.

“I haven’t found any nearby yet.”

Jimin wasn’t lying. But that random information he read in a comment left a huge doubt in his head. He would have to look better after you left.

“Hm, but you can move to another city if you get in”

But what about you? Would you stay apart?

“But...”

“I could go with you.”

“What!? No.” Jimin says quickly. He didn’t want to change cities.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” you pout looking at him.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want to have to move to another city.” Jimin exhales. This whole situation of looking for dance schools has been stressing him out.

“Well, but maybe that’s the only option”

You’re probably right.

“I’ll take a better look later.”

You nod, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed.

“So, what are you doing here?”

You suddenly remember why you came here.

“I need you to teach me how to study.”

“But your grades are good, right? There’s no need for me to teach you.”

“No! I need to do even better this time. My parents will give me the album of the band I like if I do well.”

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you on the bed, coming closer and making you lean back on your arms.

“You enter a boy's room very freely.”

You swallow. He looks so serious. You feel a little nervous at the sudden change in mood.

“It's just you.”

“And?”

“I-I trust you.”

Jimin remains in the same position, too close to you and analyzing you. He thinks that you still don't see him as a man, even though you've kissed several times.

“What is that?”

You look so pretty like this, with a slightly flushed and confused face. Jimin can only think that he wants to kiss you everywhere. But he doesn't want to pressure you and you end up thinking that he's going too far. What if you stop talking to him? He wouldn't be able to stand that.

Then he rethinks and walks away from you.

“Just... Don't go into boys' rooms like that.”

Jimin sits next to you on the bed, not looking at your face. You get more nervous. What did he mean by that?

“Uhh, okay?”

You actually thought he was going to kiss you again for a few seconds. And honestly, you really wanted him to.

You couldn't muster up enough courage to say that you came here not only because you wanted him to teach you how to study better, but because you wanted to be with him. And maybe... you could get some kisses from him.

“What subjects do you need help with?”

“We can start with math.”

You're trying to memorize the stages of cell division in the library, but you can't figure out how to make it happen logically. You keep forgetting the order all the time and it's already stressing you out.

Pro meta ana tel... That's it! You got it-

“So, have you guys done it yet?” Yuna whispers, sitting next to you.

You write down the logical sentence in your notebook and are happy with your idea. You barely paid attention to what Yuna said, focusing your attention on the logic you just created.

“Yeah, we already did the work—”

“You guys had sex!?”

“What? Oh my god, Yuna, I was talking about the history work”

Your voice gets a little loud from the shock you got from Yuna's words. Some of your classmates give you two ugly looks. Your face is already hot and Yuna's eyes are wide open as she stares at you.

“My God, I say. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Stop thinking nonsense and study!” you look away from her and point to the notebooks, organizing your study sheets that don’t need to be organized.

“I’m tired of studying. And your life is cooler than mine, so I want to know more.”

She rests her face in her hands and pouts. You really can’t stand it.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“Why? It’s normal to do these things.”

Once again, the subject is turning to things you really don’t want to talk about right now, and certainly not in the middle of the library. You feel like you two are going to be thrown out of the library any minute.

You take a deep breath and try to speak as quietly as possible, and in a way that Yuna will end the damn subject.

“We’re not going to do…that.”

“Why not?”

She looks like a child like that.

“Let's focus on studying, hm?”

She snorts.

“Give me some love advice.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You grab a sheet of paper with notes and hand it to her.

“Seriously.” She takes the paper and looks at it without interest. “Maybe I like Hoseok.”

“Hobi? Oh my God, I knew this was weird.”

Now it’s your turn to disconnect from your studies. She never told you that.

“And we kissed.”

What? What the hell?

Yuna says it like it's no big deal, still analyzing the sheet you handed her without interest. Now you're totally into the subject, you don't want to study anymore.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t tell me anything about your life.”

“That’s a lie. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

“Hey, you two. Be quiet.” The librarian snaps at you and you flinch, nodding.

Yuna comes closer and tries to speak more quietly.

“Well, I’ll only tell you if you tell me what’s going on between you two.”

Yuna shrugs, as if she’s not blackmailing you for information. You can’t believe her nerve. You have nothing interesting to say about this.

“There really isn’t anything going on between us.”

She looks at you with a “seriously?” face and you sigh for the infinite time.

“We just like to kiss each other, that’s it. Now tell me about Hobi.”

She gives up and then starts talking.

“So, we kissed the other day and...”

“You two. I’m going to ask you to find another place to study.”

And you feel so embarrassed about being kicked out of the library that you end the subject there. You really needed to memorize the content for the test.

At the beginning of your 18th birthday, things start to get a little out of control.

“We should stop doing this... “ you say, but your voice isn't confident at all. Not when he's kissing your neck like that.

“This what?”

And on top of that, Jimin plays dumb. He wants to see you admit what you're doing.

He continues to place delicate kisses along your neck and up to your ear. Your heart is already beating hard inside your chest with all the excitement he is causing you.

“This!”

You grab him by the shoulders and pull him away. You were sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with your notebooks spread out on the mattress. His gaze, his full lips, everything is too tempting for you and your eyes waver. He knows you want to continue.

“Why should we?” he asks, almost pouting.

His voice destroys you. You never imagined you would see him so full of lust. He does it on purpose because he knows how much it affects you.

“We're not focusing on our studies.“ and his eyes couldn't stop looking at his lips.

That wasn't exactly why you thought you should stop this, but it was still true.

It was your senior year of high school. You decided to come home with the excuse that you were going to study for the biology test that would be first thing in the morning tomorrow. And here you were, making out in your room instead of studying.

This whole situation was taking on proportions you hadn't imagined. You both didn't know exactly how it started, but before you knew it, you were already kissing. Neither of you wanted to think too much about it and how far it could go. You were afraid to think about the barriers you could cross if the emotion took over too much.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were always interrupted when things were getting too heated. And internally you thanked God, because the fear of making that decision was too much..

You two were almost always getting caught and it became a routine.

“I think we're studying biology very well.” he said in a naughty tone.

And there's that mischievous little smile of his that takes you apart. His hands are already on your waist without you realizing it, squeezing lightly and bringing you closer to him, inviting you to sit on his lap, but not doing so yet.

“Okay, 5 more minutes. But we need to focus, seriously!”

Jimin smiles triumphantly because he knows he won. He doesn't waste any more time, knowing that you really need to focus on your studies after this. He pushes his notebooks aside in a desperate way and it makes you laugh.

Jimin's thoughts are so clouded by lust that he can only think of one thing. So he leaves reason aside.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” you get a little nervous with his request, not knowing how to act.

“Come”

His hands push you around the waist and you follow the movement, sitting forward on his lap. His back is against the headboard while his hands caress your legs.

You try not to think too much about the position you're in. You're afraid you won't be able to control yourself when it comes to Jimin. He has a seductive way that only grows as the years go by.

Your lips meet again and your hands caress his soft hair. Everything about him is soft: his hair, his lips, his heart. And you are so addicted that you can't even think straight.

His tongue enters your mouth and you let out a soft sigh. Jimin chuckles as he kisses you, his hands moving from your legs to your hips and then grabbing your waist. He kisses you harder and pushes you down onto his lap. A surprised moan leaves your mouth because you can feel how turned on he is just from kissing you like this.

You're already aroused, too. In fact, you're pretty sure you're already soaking wet. Your parts are screaming for some friction, any movement that will ease that growing throb.

The caresses of his delicate fingers together with his increasingly skilled tongue in your mouth makes you lose self-control and start rubbing yourself on his lap.

You move just enough for that throbbing to stop bothering you. But his kiss is addictive and his hands caress you in such a light way that it makes you lose all the self-control you should have.

His hands holding your hips encourage you to continue rubbing yourself on his lap. Jimin sighs, also affected by the way you are grinding on top of him. He feels like he could explode with lust. Your flushed face, with your lips slightly parted, letting out sighs, is certainly the most erotic image he has ever seen in his life.

The way his hard erection rubs right against your most sensitive spot makes you close your eyes tightly. Slowly letting low moans escape your lips as you still kiss awkwardly.

“Do you like this?”

Jimin kisses your cheek, collarbone, behind your ear, your neck in several parts. He seems to be adoring you and at that moment it was all you needed the most.

“Oh-yes”

You grip his shoulders as you use more strength to shift on his lap. His legs bend to bring you closer, pressing you completely against him.

You can feel the pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach, but the insecurity of finishing in front of him starts to hit you harder. Your moans start to come out without your control and Jimin can sense it. He knows you're controlling yourself, by the way your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are furrowed.

He holds the back of your neck and kisses you. His other hand is on your hip pushing you down while his hips also work to pleasure you.

When you feel him pushing his hips against your core, you know you've already lost. Within seconds of this friction, you feel your orgasm building inside your belly. When you both push together once more, you feel the explosion of orgasm. Your moans can no longer be contained by his kisses. Your walls tighten around nothing and give you a feeling of satisfaction, but emptiness at the same time.

Your hands grip Jimin's shoulders tightly as you still rub yourself against his erection.

“Ah, Jimin…”

Jimin is in heaven listening to you softly moan his name over and over again. He swears he could have cum just from that if it weren't for the underwear and sweatpants squeezing him so tightly.

When you calm down, it still takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes and finally look at him.

You can't believe you just had an orgasm in front of Jimin. Something so intimate and so personal that you just shared it with him, your best friend.

"Did you finish?” Jimin asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You feel his other hand caressing your back, trying to relax you.

It takes you a long few seconds to gather the courage to say yes.

“I'm happy” Jimin kisses your cheek.

You don't get it.

“Why?”

“Because I made you feel good, right?”

You stay silent, staring at him and thinking how he can be so amazing.

At the same time your mind remembers that he is also horny and that he is probably dying because of it right now. You need to do something for him too. You want to do something for him.

“And you? How can I make you feel good?” your face automatically heats up.

“You don't have to do that” he gives a little smile. ”And we still need to finish studying” he looks around, at the mess that is the bedspread and at the study papers that fell on the floor.

“But I want to”

And you really do. But Jimin is hesitant and you can feel it. You just can't quite put your finger on why.

You don't realize it, but what Jimin has is insecurity. He's afraid of forcing you or that you're forcing yourself to do it for him. Maybe you can't even imagine him that way.

Just the idea that you might be forcing him to do this makes him lose his excitement.

When Jimin looks into your eyes again, you take him by surprise, kissing him. Both of your hands go to his face, caressing him as you kiss.

You pull away from him and let your foreheads touch.

“Show me how I can make you feel good too.”

Jimin sees sincerity in your eyes. So, he lets down his walls of insecurity and agrees to let you do it.

Something so simple and that any boy wouldn't hesitate to let a girl do. But he can't be like that. Jimin could never use someone just for his pleasure. He doesn't work that way.

“Okay…”

You sit a little further away, but still on top of his thighs. Just enough so that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Jimin guides your hand to the bulge between his legs and you touch it hesitantly. It's warm and hard and you gasp in surprise. Jimin doesn't miss a moment of your reactions.

You start to caress him over his pants, hesitant and embarrassed. You feel his eyes burning into you. Jimin analyzes your every move.

But you want more. You want to feel and see what it's like.

“Can I touch...?”

“You're touching.”

“Not like this.”

Jimin bites his lips.

You're going to drive him crazy like this.

Jimin takes your hand and puts it on the waistband of his pants. He doesn't stop to think about the situation, otherwise he would lose his courage. And deep down, you're also thinking the same thing.

You help him pull down his sweatpants and underwear, freeing his hard, hot member that rests against Jimin's belly.

You try not to look too surprised, but it's practically impossible. You swallow him with your eyes. This is the first time you've seen a dick in real life. 

“What?” Jimin asks, a little embarrassed.

A thousand thoughts run through his head. You didn't like it? Was it what you expected? Maybe you think he is small?

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed and you look at him and notice his discomfort. Finally you answer.

“Nothing, it's... it's just the first time I've seen a... uh…”

“Dick?”

You close your eyes for a second at the way he talks. So dirty and different.

“Yeah…”

You don’t know how to say this, but Jimin is incredible. The shape and size, the veins covering him, the pink, leaking tip. You didn’t know you could get this turned on. Your eyes are glued to him.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes.” You say promptly.

Jimin feels a weight lift off his shoulders when he hears you responding so enthusiastically.

“You can touch.” 

You bit your lip and reached out to touch him for the first time. You felt him in your hand, warm and hard. It was the first time you were touching him like this and also the first time you had touched anyone like this.

Your fingers closed around his cock and you tested how tight you could get. Jimin immediately closed his eyes and moaned. You glanced up at him, surprised by the sound he made.

Your heart started pounding in your chest and you felt that pulse return to your core. You could never imagine how sexy Jimin would look moaning like that and it definitely turned you on. You wanted to see more of this.

You start to move back and forth carefully, not sure if you should do it that way. You lick your lips and look at him. His eyes are glued to you, practically swallowing you.

“Here, squeeze like this.” He wraps his fingers together with yours and squeezes hard, showing you how much pressure you can apply.

Another moan escapes his lips, but this time Jimin continues to look directly at you.

“Now do it like this” he guides your hand up and down his cock, while he doesn't take his eyes off yours. ”Oh, that's it, just like that.” he moans with satisfaction when you take the rhythm by yourself.

You are fascinated by him. His moans encourage you to continue. Your hand quickly moves up and down his cock.

Jimin is lost in the vision he has of you giving him pleasure. He can't control his mind with the various dirty scenes he imagines the two of you doing.

Your eyes alternate between looking at his cock and watching his reactions. You want to lick it but you're afraid it'll be too much, so you settle for giving him pleasure with just your hand.

“I'm close…”

Jimin moans louder and you feel your parts contracting. It's so exciting to know that he's moaning like this because of you. You feel powerful and confident.

You squeeze him tighter in your hand and the noise is loud and sticky. His hand goes to your face and lifts your chin, caressing your jaw.

“You're so beautiful-oh”

You let out a soft moan because your wrist is starting to hurt, but you don't want to stop. Jimin looks like he's about to cum and you don't want to miss that scene.

Suddenly, you hear the front door creaking. You hear your mother calling your name from the living room, along with the sound of keys being dropped on the counter. Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you look at Jimin.

You quickly pull away.

Jimin stands up and pulls up his underwear along with his pants and tries to fix his hair, which is a mess.

Yours is also a mess and you try to tie it in a ponytail. As soon as you tie your hair, you pick up the notebooks that are thrown on the floor and try to fix the pages that fell.

Jimin sits at his computer desk with a notebook in his hand. He tries to adjust his erection that is painfully pressing inside his pants. He crosses his legs to try to hide it. Jimin runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and notices that his forehead is sweaty. He tries to wipe it off while you climb into bed and arrange your study materials.

Your mother knocks on the door at the same time and enters the room. She is surprised to see the two of you, but if she noticed anything, she didn't show it on her face.

“Ah, you're here. How dedicated. ” She says, smiling at the two of you.

“Good afternoon, ma'am.”

“Hi, mom. You're early today.” your voice comes out a little breathless and Jimin gives you a quick look, without your mother noticing.

“Oh yeah. I didn't have much work today so I ended up leaving early.” she explains and you agree. “What are you studying?”

Your mother's eyes scan your notebooks. You swallow.

“Biology”

It wasn't a lie.

But due to the events of a few minutes ago, this information suddenly seemed very funny.

Jimin does his best with his head down on his notebooks to keep from bursting out laughing. The last thing you need right now is to make a mistake in front of your mother.

“Oh, really?” your mother says. ”Next time, study in the living room okay? “ she looks at you two and winks.

Soon she leaves the door and leaves it leaning against it, you and Jimin with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

You look at each other and start to laugh softly. You cover your mouth with your hand.

You feel so dirty but at the same time so alive. You can't understand it, you just feel a sense of happiness.

“Do you think she noticed?” Jimin asks

“Well, your hair is practically dripping.” you point out and he quickly starts running his hand through his hair. “I don't think she thinks it's that hard to study biology” you laugh a little

Jimin laughs as he finishes fixing his hair. Your hair isn't perfect either, but the ponytail disguised it a bit. What couldn't be disguised were your completely red cheeks, but that's just a detail.

“We didn't lie, at least.” Jimin says, shrugging.

You throw a pillow at him. He's so cheeky sometimes.

“Let's study for real now!”

You try to sound bossy but it doesn't come out as expected. But Jimin finds your mannerisms cute and agrees.

“Yes, ma'am!”

You really need to focus on something other than reflecting on the events from now. 

Things have flowed at such a natural and pressure-free pace that you don’t feel as guilty as you thought you would. And most of all, you trust Jimin, so things are kinda okay.

The thing that bothers you and stayed in your head even when you were already taking a shower to go to bed at night is: things are moving forward gradually and that would be fine, if you weren't best friends.

And your head starts spinning because all of this started under the pretext that you were practicing your first kiss, but look at it now.

You really try not to think about it too much, but as soon as you lay your head on the pillow, the only thing that goes through your mind is: aren't we going too far?

As soon as Jimin enters the classroom early in the morning, the teacher calls on him for a few seconds before starting the class.

“Jimin, I need to talk to you. Please stay at the end of the class” the academic planning teacher says and takes Jimin by surprise.

Jimin agrees and goes to sit in class right behind you. You didn't see him go talk to the teacher because you were talking to the guys and he didn't have time to tell you because class started right after.

He couldn't get it out of his head even during class. Jimin already knew more or less what the teacher was going to say, but he was still nervous. He knew that time was running out and he needed to make a decision about it soon.

At the end of class, you gather your things and wait for Jimin. Everyone has already left but Jimin is still taking a long time.

“Come on, Mimi!”

Jimin is slower than usual. And quieter than usual. You didn't know why. You wanted to ask him on the way home.

“I'm going to have to stay here.”

You don't understand.

“Why?” your face wrinkles in confusion.

Jimin lifts his face and looks at you, he has a serious expression on his face.

“I have a meeting with the academic planning teacher.’

Now you understand. That means it's time for him to decide which dance school he wants to go to, so he can send in his documents and apply. Your heart starts beating faster.

“Oh, that's good, right? Is it about the dance school you want to go to?”

“Yeah…”

You notice that there's something strange about him. Why isn't he happy about this?

“What's wrong with you?”

“It's nothing, I'm just nervous.”

You give him a small smile and move closer to him. It's a big decision, you understand why he's nervous.

“It’s okay, Mimi. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

You know you’re closer than you should be because you can smell his scent and the warmth of his body. But there’s no one around right now and you let yourself be. To be honest, you’re a little tired of pretending you’re not that close in front of others.

Jimin gives you a sad smile. And all he can see are your eyes shining with excitement for him.

If you only knew...

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me”

The room is empty and the school is starting to get quiet because everyone has already rushed out to leave.

Jimin comes closer to you and seals your lips for a few seconds. You are so surprised that you don't even have time to close your eyes.

“For luck”

And you blush.

“I'll go first then.”

Jimin agrees with you and you say goodbye.

"I really think you should apply to that dance school in Seoul, Jimin. It's your best chance, even if it's far away." 

Jimin considers the teacher's words, his hands sweating coldly in his lap. Jimin knows the teacher is right, but he doesn't know what to say to that. He hadn't anticipated this whole situation, this whole sudden change of scenery.

He couldn't imagine living in another city alone.

“I know it's a big step to live away from your parents, but you should consider this possibility if it's really your dream.”

Jimin just agrees with everything the teacher says, but he can't say much, even though he's thinking a thousand things at the same time.

"And with your grades and your talent, I'm sure you'll get in."

Jimin is happy, really. But some things hold him back, despite his happiness. And he feels conflicted about his feelings.

When he gets home that day, he knows he's already made up his mind. He just doesn't know how to tell you. And even though you said you'd go with him, he knows that wouldn't be a reality. Your parents are too strict about letting you go to college far from home.

Jimin decides to wait a little longer to tell you about it.

© heartforbangtan 2025. All rights reserved.

[awsugar]

i can't sleep my brain and body have been all fucked up this week and i'm laying here at 430 being so PLAGUED by the fact that my life's 3 main hyper fixations have been mcr spn and dnp and not only that but the fact that fiction as a whole will never have anything like destiel again, the internet will never reproduce something like phan. celebrities will NEVER be able to do frerard again. i'm not insane. these are the big 3 and not just because these are my favorite things. there are endless amounts of ships and pairings and fics and lore but literally. the specific experience of living through all of these in one lifetime. no one else will ever have that...except us

[zivaninja]

Blue Bloods finale things/spoilers under the cut that I wanted to yell about:

• Jamko parents!!! Parents!! Oh how far they've come 😭

• I'm going to miss Eddie Janko so damn much, that's my girl.

•Jack and Erin getting married!! They finally got their happy ending. And the looks on their faces at dinner as they decided to keep it to themselves was just so 💜😭

• Danny's face when Henry tells him to find his person to come home to. He already knows.

• Danny Reagan! Asking Maria Baez! On a date! And her saying yes! He doesn't need to go look for his person because she's right there besides him. And the look on her face when she agreed!!

[ehnrat]

i was also lookin up the full versions on the KHR songs and i saw that ponycanon uploaded one of my fav endings 3 weeks ago and HRMMMMMM

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[flamingpudding]

Code: GHOST

It all started when a number code flashed across the screen of the Batcomputer while Tim was working on a case.

7 8 15 19 20

Flashed across the screen several times to the point it made Tim think that someone somehow managed to hack into the Batcomputer. It was also a number code he was not familiar with at all. So Tim reported it back over their comms in hopes that maybe one of the others knew what the numbers meant. Because all he managed to figure out from it was that the number code was an alert on the Batcomputer, one that came with coordinates that lead into the middle of nowhere.

Tim was about to join the discussion Dick and Jason were having on it when Bruce silenced them all apruptly speaking up.

"Answer code 2 1 20, sent them to the coordinates attached. I will be in the cave in ETA3 and take over from there."

The sudden silence on their communication line spoke volumes especially when Tim new the numbers was a simply code for Bat. He still did what Bruce asked him to do but that didn't stop the questions running through Tim's mind. He watched on the screen of the Batcomputer how the moment he sent the code in return, Programs started like on autopilot. A map opening that contained nothing at first but then changed into a map of a whole good damn city. Tim could only gap at what was happening on the Batcomputer before Bruce appeared and pulled him away from his seat to take over himself.

Bruce without a beat of delay started to input more codes and apparently access codes too as more and more windows opened on the Batcomputer. Tim did not realise that with time Dick, Cass and Damian had joined him as they watched Bruce work away on the Batcomputer. At some point an audiotrack opened but all they could hear was only static. They thought Bruce was going to run it through one of the noise filtering programs.

But to the shock of them, Bruce suddenly triggered a hidden compartment on the console, causing it to flip over and reveal communication link build in a way non of them had ever seen before. It was silver with green accents and looked far... older and less sleek than any of the ones they used. It was clearly not designed to stay completely hidden if put into your ear.

They watched how he simply put that earpiece on and then replayed the audiotrack.

The batkids shared a look of confusion. Non of them sure what to make of the situation until suddenly Bruce stood up from the Batcomputer.

"Prepare for a rescue mission. Nightwing, Orphan and Robin will come with me, the rest of you will stay in Gotham." Was all the man said before storming of towards the Batplane.

"Bruce what is going on?!" Dick instead of going to prepare asked stoping the man before he could get away from them. "What is the meaning of that code? Aside from the fact that simply translated it means ghost."

Bruce eyed the batkids present for a moment before letting out a grunt. "Ghost is finally ready to join the family."

"Ghost?" Tim echoed confused, never having heard that alias for any of them.

"Father what do you mean, 'join the family'?" Damian chimed in clearly frowning with suspicion.

The man eyed them once more his eyes going over each of his children, it looked like he was contemplating telling them more for a moment before he stood to fully face them and let out a sigh. "Like Clark, I too have clone child."

There was a stunned silence. No one speaking up until Dick did. "How long...?"

"14 years ago"

The silence continued as they all did the mental math. Once more it was Dick who spoke up first, clearly stunned. "You had a clone since I was eleven and now is the first time I hear of that?! You never bothered telling any of us?!"

There was a long suffering sigh. "We got to Danny before he was aged up, he was a normal baby even if created in a laboratory, so it was best for him to grow up normally, with the league we arranged for him to be sent to selected family since I had my hands full with you and-"

"Danny?!" Dick cut in. "His name is Danny? Does he even know about us?"

"Dick." Bruce called out his tone warning. "Of course I kept an eye on Danny's life. And I did made contact with him when the time was appropriated considering some of the things that were happening for the boy as he grew up, however he is not aware that he is a clone and it will stay that way. He will get to know all of you once we finished this rescue mission."

Before Dick or any of the others could say anything more Bruce spoke up firmly again. "Get ready now, we do not have any more time. Anything else will be handled later."

[emmyrosee]

Keiji is absolutely nothing if not an attentive, knowing husband.

He’s good, he’s good at the whole marriage thing, knowing what makes you tic and what makes you purr, your anniversaries and outings and just being an absolute maniac when it comes to knowing all about you.

So imagine your complete, your total, your absolute horrific discovery to find out that today, he’s not home.

There’s no flowers, no note, no chaotic breakfast that Mei insisted on making you with Keiji- she claims today is her favorite holiday- and there’s nothing.

Not one of those things, on this birthday of yours.

To be honest, you don’t really mind, he’s one for… however many years you’ve known him, he was bound to forget it at some point (you certainly know you’ve had a few close calls), it just feels strange to have a birthday just with you and not your loving husband or eager daughter.

You stretch, yawn and slowly get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen to prepare for your day off, eager to spend some time alone and not have to worry about anything until you pick up your four year old.

Who is just as surprised as you at Keiji’s forgetting. Who takes a vendetta against Keiji for forgetting.

“You mean daddy didn’t take care of you today?” She says sadly. “That’s not nice of him…”

You giggle, “it’s okay, it’s just one day, yeah?”

“But!” She whines. “I made you a card! ‘Nd we should have a cake! And a birffday party!”

You shrug as you continue to strap her in, “well, sometimes, things don’t exactly pan out like we’d expect them to. And that’s okay! Besides,” you take out your credit card and flash it to Mei, “now we can have a girls day, yeah? Brag to daddy all about it.”

She beams up at you, and you finish buckling her into her seat.

Nails have been painted, delicious pastries for dessert have been picked, a cake to be baked and decorated has been prettied up, and now, all you can do is wait for Keiji to come home and witness all the fun he’d missed today.

Sure enough, 15:34 rolls around, and Keiji comes through the door, sleepy smile on his face and jacket shrugging off of his shoulders. “Hey, my girls.”

“Hey,” you hum, making your way over to him. You toss your arms around his neck and pucker your lips out for a kiss, which he tenderly returns. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” he says with a small whine. “So glad to be home with the two loves of my life.” He smiles and kisses you again, only to then make eye contact with his daughter, who eyes him in a scold. He crouches down and reaches out to pinch her cheeks, only for her to dodge him slightly.

“And how’s my favorite little-“

“Hmph!”

Immediately, Keiji is cut off by the sound of your four year old’s disapproval, and he watches with a displeased furrow as she stomps her foot with crossed arms and turns away from him. His jaw is slacked, at the mercy of Mei and your attempts to not cackle out loud.

His eyes, filled with incredulous confusion flick back up to you in search for your assistance in correcting her attitude, but you say nothing. Instead, you place your hands on your hips and look down your nose at him.

He straightened his back and took a deep inhale for patience, “excuse me?”

“I said:” once again, Mei stomps her foot and crosses her arms tighter over her tiny chest, “hmph!”

“Have i upset you, Mei?” He asks, crouching lower to try and get her to open up to him. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“You should know,” she snips.

God she’s so cute, you could just bite her.

Keiji, right now however, may disagree with that sentiment.

“I don’t think I like this attitude, little miss-“

“Not my fault you didn’t wish mommy happy birffday today!” Mei pouts, and instantly, Keiji’s brows shoot up, from anger to surprise. When he turns to look at you in confirmation, your expression turns from one of amusement, to faux anger to match Mei’s. His gaze softens, and he reaches his hands out to you for your affection.

“R…Really?”

“Really really,” you confirm. “I was super surprised our four year old and Koutarou remembered before you did.”

All the color drains from his face, and for a moment your expression softens as he looks like he’s about to faint right in front of you. “Kou…Koutarou remembered?”

“Honestly all of the Jackals did- Kiyoomi even sent me a card that’s due to come.” The detail, all though a little unnecessary, again makes him deflate, and even if your intentions are cruel, he looks so cute trying to grovel for forgiveness.

“Baby… my love… I’m so, so sorry-“

“You should be,” you huff, crossing your arms dramatically. “It’s a good thing I had Mei to keep me company all day, apparently she’s the only Akaashi who loves me.”

“Yeah!” Mei’s voice echos behind Keiji. It makes him snort and drop his head against your shoulder, palms smoothing up your hips and sides in an attempt to be affectionate, though the action only has you melting into his embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he hums from your neck, peppering soft kisses along the length. Your breath hitches and your own hands come up to rest on his own shoulders. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, giggling softly when he tenses up, then looking up it you in betrayal. “I want ramen. I want ice cream and chips, and I want to watch classic Disney movies as a family, and I want to do those cute panda face masks Mei got us for our anniversary with Koutarou.”

“Okay… okay I can do that; what kind of chips?”

“All of them.”

“You got it.” With that, Keiji kisses your cheek and quickly turns on his heal to head back out to the corner store to stock up on everything you asked for.

“Mommy?” Mei asks, tugging your pant leg.

“What baby?”

“Are you mad at daddy?”

You smile and ruffle her hair, bending down to pick her up and help you set up the rest of your birthday wishes.

“Couldn’t be mad at daddy even if I wanted to be.”

[xoheewon]

first time

heeseung x virgin f!reader genre: smut, fluff warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, fingering wc: 2.2k

Being a virgin in college has never been an issue for you. You don't feel embarrassed or ashamed, but you do feel left out.

All your friends constantly talk about their hookups and how amazing sex is.

At first, you figured it couldn't be that great, but as time continued you couldn't help but feel like you were missing out on something good.

“Don't feel left out Y/N, sex isn't always great,” Giselle says, putting her hand on your shoulder.

You and the girls were in your room, studying together.

“But you guys always talk about how great it is!”

“Well, it can be, with a person who knows what they're doing. We've all had our dud hookups with a guy who didn't know jack,” Karina adds. 

Winter butt's in, nodding her head, “I once had sex with this guy who was so quick to cum, I hadn't even taken my panties off yet. Then when he actually got his dick in me, he finished and didn't even get me off, I had to fake it.”

“Well how do you know if a guy knows what to do?” You ask, looking at Ningning who clears her throat. 

“You can't really tell just by looking at them, it usually comes down to how they act in the bedroom. If they worry about your pleasure as much as your own, I'd say they're pretty alright,” she says.

The girls all nod, agreeing. Karina pats your knee, “When the time comes and you feel like you're ready, the right person will be there.”

After they left, you thought about their words and they're right. When it's the right time and the right person, you'll be ready. You decide to shower and put pajamas on as it gets later.

Afterwards, you can hear the doorknob of the front door opening, your roommate must be home.

Heeseung is a nice guy. He's a year older, a senior who had been looking for a roommate to replace his old one. You, at the time, had been looking to move out of your parents house. 

You had a mutual friend, Sunghoon, who introduced you and within a week you had moved in. 

It's been a year now and living with Heeseung has been great. 

He's sweet, clean and respectful.

Unfortunately, he's also very hot.

You can't lie and say you haven't had a wet dream or two about him. 

Waking up with arousal pooling in your underwear is not the most comfortable feeling.

He comes in as you're sitting on the couch, greeting you cheerfully, “Hey Y/N!”

“Hi! It's late, what have you been up to?”

“I was just with the hottest girl, I was in heaven.”

“Oh, good for you,” you say, your smile faltering. 

“What about you, what did you do?”

You wave your hand, “The girls just came over to study.”

He nods, “I'm gonna go shower, you wanna watch a movie? Order dinner?”

You nod, watching as he retreats to the bathroom.

You sigh as the door closes.

Heeseung has probably had sex with a number of girls. He wouldn't want someone like you who's never done anything sexual.

15 minutes pass and you've been scrolling on the phone when the bathroom door opens again.

Heeseung comes out but he's not clothed.

His towel hangs around his hips, dangerously low.

You can't help the heat rising to your cheeks.

“What do you want for dinner? I'll order on my phone now,” you say, looking back down at your phone quickly.

His footsteps approach you as he hums, “You wanna get chinese?”

You see his feet in front of you as you look up.

He's right in front of you, water dripping on his body. His lean but toned chest glistens in the light of the living room.

“Or,” his hand comes up to cup your chin, “I could give you something else for dinner.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, stopping yourself from nuzzling into his hand.

“Come on, you know what I'm talking about. I've heard your pretty little whimpers and moans in your sleep when you're dreaming about me, waking up with your underwear soaked.”

You gulp, “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for,” he says, “If anything I should be honored to have a pretty girl dream about me.”

You look down but he raises your chin back up. “Heeseung, you don't want anything to do with me. The farthest I've ever gone with a guy was making out. I can’t offer you anything.”

He smiles, “That's even better, means I get to show you what real pleasure feels like. Do you want that?”

Maybe this is your right person and right time.

You nod, “Can I..?” You trail off, gesturing to his towel.

He undoes the towel and his cock springs up.

His tip is red and you can't help how your mouth begins to salivate. 

“You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You nod your head and he chuckles.

He takes his hand and places it in front of your mouth, “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth before depositing it in his hand.

He begins to lather his cock, and you feel yourself begin to salivate even more.

“Hold it with your hand like this,” he says, guiding your hand to hold him.

He's warm in your hand and he guides you up and down his cock. 

“Now, start with the tip.”

You lay your tongue flat against the tip, licking around it albeit apprehensively.

Now, you may have never done this before but you've done your fair share of research.

You dip your tongue into his slit before swirling it around, collecting his pre-cum.

Heeseung groans from above you, bringing a hang up to wrap it in your hair.

You pull away for a moment before placing a delicate kiss on the tip which makes him chuckle.

“Start putting some of the length in your mouth, don't rush.”

You do as he says, using your tongue to lick the underside of his cock.

Once you become comfortable, you take more of him into your mouth, placing your hand where you can't take him.

“Now start bobbing your head and hollow your cheeks, that's all there is to it, pretty girl.”

You start sucking him off eagerly, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Heeseung moans from above you, “That's it, you're a natural.”

You go at him until your jaw begins to hurt and by then, Heeseung is tightening his grip on your hair. 

“I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?”

You pull off his cock with a pop, lolling your tongue out and continuing to jerk him off.

He smiles, “You're driving me crazy, pretty girl.”

Then, he's coming in your mouth, it's almost too much.

You swallow, not minding the taste. If anything you're proud that you made him cum.

He takes over jerking his cock to get himself hard again. 

“Can I do something?” He asks, and you nod.

“Lay back on the couch,” he says, “Gonna make you feel good.”

You do as you're told, getting comfortable. 

Heeseung gets on the couch facing you, trailing his fingers up your legs.

His hands reach your pajama top, “Can I take this off?” 

You nod, throwing your arms above your head as he begins to slide it off.

Your bare tits present themselves to him and his hands immediately come up to grope them.

His head dips, mouth coming to suck on your left nipple. 

You moan in pleasure, your hands coming to run themselves through his hair.

He twirls your other nipple between his fingers before switching.

“Such perfect tits, can't believe you've been hiding these from me.”

His mouth drops lower, kissing his way down your stomach before his lips reach the waistband of your shorts.

He looks up at you for permission and you give it to him.

Heeseung pulls your shorts and panties down, gazing at your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, I never thought I'd get to see it.”

You blush, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Don't hide from me, I wanna see your beautiful face,” he says, pulling them away.

He lowers his face parallel to your cunt, blowing hot air on it, making you shiver.

“Heeseung-” You gasp as his tongue makes contact with your folds. 

He starts eating you out like a starved man.

His tongue finds you clit, massaging the nub, sucking on it.

Your back arches, your hands finding his hair once again.

“Oh my god, Heeseung!”

Finding your hole, he tenses his tongue, fucking it inside.

You've never felt pleasure like this.

Sure, you've masturbated, but this is a whole new world.

Heeseung switching between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit.

He brings a long, slender finger to your hole, letting your arousal coat it before slipping it inside. After a few minutes, he adds another finger, using them to open you up along with his tongue.

You can feel warmth pooling in your stomach, you know you're close.

“I'm gonna cum, Seungie,” you whine, bucking your hips up against his face.

“Cum for me,” he says, sighing as your release coats his tongue, face and fingers.

The lewd slurping sounds make your face hot as he inhales everything you give him.

As he pulls away, the lower part of his face is wet with your release and he doesn't hesitate to collect it on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth.

“You taste amazing, I could stay in that pussy for hours.”

“I've never felt anything like that before,” you say, breathing heavily.

“Do you wanna stop here? We don't have to continue if you're not ready,” he says, caressing your face.

You shake your head, “Want your cock, Seungie.”

He groans at your words, “Fuck, you're driving me crazy.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

He takes his cock into his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds, making you whine as his tip continuously hits your puffy clit.

He saturates himself with your juices, before positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod at him and he slowly begins to enter you.

Inch by inch you feel the stretch, wincing slightly.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust.

You take in the full feeling in your belly, like he's all the way inside your stomach.

You buck your hips, “Move, please.”

He starts off slow, pulling all the way out before pushing back in. He rolls his hips in a way that makes it feel like there's even more cock to take.

After he sees you're comfortable, he picks up the pace to a relentless thrust.

His balls hit your ass, the lewd slapping sound making you even more wet.

“Fuck, you're taking me so well pretty.”

You whine, nodding, “Love your cock, Seungie.”

His pace turns animalistic, fucking you into the couch as you moan louder and louder.

“Fuck, Heeseung!”

He lifts one of your legs, bringing it over his shoulder to change the angle and you arch as he hits a new spot inside you.

“Oh my god!” You scream, jaw dropping as he groans above you.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. Never want another one after this,” he says, kissing your thigh beside his head.

“I'm gonna cum again, Seungie please.” You don't even know what you're begging for. 

“Me too baby, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” you plead, “Want it in me.”

Heeseung curses up a storm as you clench around him, milking his cock as he finally cums, with you following right after.

His warm cum fills you up, making your cunt and belly feel full. 

He releases your leg, putting it down as he slowly pulls out.

Heeseung watches his cum drip out of you, before leaning down to kiss you.

You taste yourself on him as he slides his tongue inside your mouth.

The kiss is sweet, slow.

As he pulls away, he leaves kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Heeseung, that was amazing. Thank you.”

He smiles, “I was honored to be your first, pretty girl, and hopefully your last?” 

“Do you like me, Lee Heeseung?” You taunt him with a wide smile on your face.

“Maybe I do. Would you be mine if I asked you?”

You nod, “I'd love nothing more.”

After resting for a few minutes, Heeseung gets off the couch, putting his arm under your things while the other finds your shoulders, lifting you up bridal style.

He brings you to the bathroom, getting a warm rag to clean you both up.

“You wanna cuddle? My room or yours?” He asks, holding your face in his hands, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks.

“Yours,” you reply, “I like your room.”

He lifts you again, bringing you to his room, putting one of his shirts on you and bringing you to his bed.

Your head rests on his chest as his arms come to wrap around you. 

“I'd like to take you out on a date tomorrow, I meant what I said about making you mine,” Heeseung whispers into your ear.

“I'd like that,” you respond, lifting your head to give him a kiss on the lips.

note: this is my second time writing smut, my apologies if it's ass 😭 don't hesitate to give constructive criticism! also pls ignore any typos/grammar mistakes and the formatting im too lazy to fix it.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

The sheets didn't smell like Max anymore. Colette had changed them over a week ago.

She ran her hand over the empty space next to her, the sheets cool to the touch. Empty. Alone. 

Colette wished Max was there. That she could simply turn around and he would be there. But he wasn't. 

Bébé took that moment to kick her bladder and she sighed as she pushed herself to sit up. 

The sun was lower on the sky an she knew that she must have napped at least a few hours. "Bathroom and then we can see what we'll have for dinner," she suggested to the baby.

She got an answering kick in response that made her snort. 

After taking care of her business, she made her way to the kitchen, feeling a rumbling in her stomach.

To her surprise, Colette wasn’t alone in their apartment. "You do know that I am adult, right?" she asked her mother and her oldest brother drily as waddled into the kitchen. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, probably busy with his actual job. "I can be left alone. Chances are I'll just go back to watching reruns of Real Housewives this evening," she said drily.

Neither of them laughed at this. She looked up from opening the fridge to see their...very serious expression. Colette paused, a cold feeling of dread worming its way into her stomach. Something was wrong, she could tell by their expressions. "What?" she asked, closing the refrigerator door.

Was something wrong with Max? With Cha?

She had never outright believed in the whole idea of twin telepathy or anything like that...but Charles and her had this...thing. If something was really wrong with each other...they could feel it.

And she couldn’t feel anything…not like that, not right now.  

"Did...did something happen to Max?" Colette asked shakily, almost afraid of the answer. Her mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario. "Is he...okay?"

Her mother and brother traded a glance, which did nothing to calm her nerves. "Max is fine," her mother promised her. "Why don't you sit down, Choupinette?" This also wasn't calming her.

"Enzo?" Colette asked, her voice shaky.

"Nobody is hurt or dying," Lorenzo promised her quickly. "It's...complicated."

Colette nodded, lowering herself into a seat at the kitchen island. Her heart was still racing, palms a bit sweaty.

"Complicated how?" she asked, her voice a bit hoarse.

"I would like to preface this by saying that Arthur didn't...think this through," Lorenzo said with a grimace.

Colette's eyes widened in disbelief. "Arthur...what did he do?" she asked immediately. 

"He may have posted that post you made on your stories in his," Lorenzo said carefully.

Colette's jaw dropped open in shock. "He...he WHAT?!" she nearly shrieked, hands gripping the edge of the table.

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

That ill-thought out post she had made...with a Taylor Swift lyric that she had thought was cute...to her less than 200 followers that all knew about her and Max anyway…

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

Colette's hands were shaking now as she tried to process what her brother had done. "Are you serious?" she finally managed to whisper.

And now it was  out there. For EVERYBODY TO SEE. Everybody. Everybody could see her post about Max. Everybody could see her saying that Max came straight home to her.

They had spent 15 years keeping their relationship a secret. And now...now there they were.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm the panic that was welling up inside of her. "Oh god...oh god," she muttered, her mind racing.

"People are going to see that. Max's fans are going to see that," she whispered, her stomach clenching. "Oh god, they're going to see it and figure things out."

Her mother reached out, placing a calming hand on her arm. "It's okay, Choupinette," she said gently. "It's going to be okay."

Colette shook her head. "No, it's not," she said, her voice shaky. "How could Arthur do this? He knows...he knows that I didn't want anybody to know," she whispered, tears biting in her eyes. She wasn't even sure what to do. She wasn't even sure what to think.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, worry, frustration...and anger. So much anger at her brother, for not thinking, for not asking first, for not considering the consequences.

"How could he just... do this?" she said again, her voice cracking.

Lorenzo tried to come closer, but she held up a hand to stop him. She didn't want his touch, not right now. "Arthur should have asked me before doing something like this," she said, her voice shaking. "He knows...he knows that Max and I...we keep our relationship private."

"I...I need some space right now," she choked out, pushing her chair back and standing up. She had to get out of here, get some air.

She left the kitchen, leaving her family behind.

She found herself in the living room, collapsing onto the couch, her hands covering her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She couldn't believe what her brother had done. 

And now...now it was out there. Their secret, Max's secret, their life...everything.

She tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down, but she couldn't. She was angry, hurt, scared…

Their relationship...it had always been a safe space to Colette. 

Somewhere where she could just be herself. With Max, she felt loved and safe and quite frankly, spoiled rotten by his attention. She didn't need to think about what she said, she could just be comfortable. And nobody had an inside look into that relationship that she didn't want to. They had admitted it to people over the years, to friends and colleagues and family members. But to the public they had never been connected beyond Colette being the twin sister of one of Max's biggest rivals. 

She had liked her anonymity. Had liked that nobody paid her a second look on the street. That nobody even thought twice about her.

Her role could just be Charles and Arthur's supportive sister. Nothing more, nothing less. Max knew that she loved him, that she supported him in the privacy of their relationship. It wasn't something she needed anybody else to know.

But now it was out there.

Colette buried her head in her hands, letting out a soft sob. It was out there, and it couldn't be taken back. No amount of damage control, no amount of apology was going to take those words back.

She could already see the headlines in her head: “Max Verstappen’s secret girlfriend”

It was so much worse than she had expected. The idea of being exposed like this...it made her want to crawl under a rock and hide for the rest of her life.

Colette didn't want to deal with the media circus, the gossip, the speculation. She didn't want to deal with any of it.

She didn't want her life to be dissected. She didn't want everything to be picked apart.

But that's what was going to happen. The vultures were going to descend, the media was going to hound her, her inbox would be filled with requests for comment and statements.

She was going to be the topic of everyone's conversation, speculation, and judgment.

She wanted to cry, scream, and throw something simultaneously.

She didn't ask for this, she wasn't built for this.

She wanted her anonymity, her simple life, her relationship to be private. That's all she had ever wanted...was that too much to ask for?

But now it was all in jeopardy, because her brother wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. She knew that he hadn't done it to hurt her...he had just been a idiot without a brain. But that didn't make the situation any easier for her.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to gather her thoughts.

But now it was gone. The secret was out, and there was no turning back. She was going to be under the microscope, every move she made, every word she spoke, every expression on her face would be analyzed and scrutinized.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Colette leaned back against the couch, feeling the weight of the situation crashing down on her. 

She had always known that Max's life would come with a certain amount of spotlight and media attention, but she had never expected to be dragged into it.

She had always been in the shadows, quietly supporting him from behind the scenes, but now she was being thrust into the bright light of the media spotlight. And she couldn't help but cry her eyes out about it.

She let the tears flow, feeling the sobs rack her body. It was too much, all too much. She was exposed, vulnerable, and raw. And she had no idea how to handle it.

"Choupinette," her mother said softly, sitting down besides her.

Colette barely registered her mother's presence, too consumed by her own despair. But she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, gentle and comforting.

She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her mother just held her, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words of comfort. "It's going to be okay," she promised. "I promise, it's going to be okay."

"Maybe it won't even be so bad," her mother tried to comfort her. "It will blow over. You do love Max and he loves you."

"It was going to get out sometime," Lorenzo said quietly. "It was question of when not if, Colette. It was a miracle that you were able to keep it quiet for so long."

This only made Colette cry harder.

She hadn't wanted anybody to know. She had wanted privacy. She had wanted…

She had wanted it to just be her and Max, living their life together, without any outside interference.

She knew it was foolish to think that it could last forever, but a small part of her had hoped.

Now it was going to be ruined. And it was all because of her stupid brother and his impulsive behavior.

She didn't want the attention. She didn't want the speculation, the questions, the accusations.

All she wanted was Max.

She wanted him, his warmth, his soft reassurances, his quiet love. She wanted him with her and just to curl up in his arms. Where she could forget everything else and just be.

But she couldn't do that. The truth was out there now, and there was no way to erase it.

She was Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, the public knew, and there was nowhere she could hide from it.

And that thought terrified her more than anything else. She didn't know how to handle the public eye, the media interest, the gossip. It was like a massive wave that was about to crush her, and she had no life raft to hold onto.

She leaned closer into her mother, feeling like a child again. The sobs continued to rack her body, and all she could do was hold onto her mother's comforting embrace.

She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to handle this.

***

This was the last fucking news Max wanted to hear before qualifying. The absolute last.

He loved the Leclercs. He did. He loved Colette’s family like his own. And he loved her brothers like his own. 

But this was making him absolutely furious with Arthur. 

And he would have liked to destroy his driver’s room in a fit of rage, but he wasn’t going to do that. He was not going to let his emotions get the best of him. 

Not when he understood where Arthur was coming from. Even when he hated the way he had gone about it. 

Max had half a mind to simply throw the towel. To give up. What did it matter anymore? He had won his 4th World Championship title…Red Bull wasn’t in the running for the constructor’s championship anymore…that was between Ferrari and McLaren… so did it matter? 

Wouldn’t he be more useful at Colette’s side? 

But he knew that if he asked her…he knew what her answer would be. 

She wouldn’t stand for it. 

She knew that he wouldn’t forgive himself for this. He wanted to win. It was in his DNA. It wasn’t in him to leave things unfinished. 

She would tell him to do it. To finish that race. And then to come straight home to her. 

But it was hard, especially when he knew that the media was going to be all over this. The vultures were going to be circling, waiting for any slip up, any moment of weakness. 

It wasn't like he cared if his and Colette's relationship became public. He was content with screaming it from every rooftop. He would happily post his beautiful girlfriend on his Instagram daily. He was more than willing to take her to some charity gala and kiss her in the view of every camera that was there...but he knew how important it had always been for Colette.

And now she was exposed, without warning and without even knowing. 

Max wanted to find her brother and wring his neck for this. How could he be so careless, so thoughtless?

He knew how important Colette's privacy was to her, how much she valued it. And now it was gone. Just like that.

Colette wanted to keep a low profile. She was more than happy to be the always supportive sister to her brothers, to cheer them on from the sidelines...and she herself was happy to work in her mother's hair salon, and dabble at playing the piano and violin…and content to simply be.

He had always loved that about her…how happy she could be with the most simple of things. 

Colette didn’t enjoy the spotlight, she preferred the shadows. And now she had been thrown into the whirlwind of media attention.

He knew that she wasn’t going to handle this well. 

And he was seriously considering throwing the towel. 

To say fuck it all and go back to Monaco. 

His father didn’t want to hear a single thing about it.

Jos had never really approved of Max's relationship with Colette. He thought it made him weak, he thought Max needed to focus on racing, not on some girl… but Max had been stubborn.

Colette was everything to him. Colette’s place in his life was not something they were going to argue about it. It was set in stone. 

 And so, through the years his father had realised that Colette was there to stay. 

And he may even had started to respect her place in Max’s life, realised that her presence calmed him and focused him in a way nothing else did…Realised that Colette was good for Max. 

And even for his relationship with his father. 

Nowadays…they got along better than they ever had and quite frankly they had Colette to thank for that. She had softened his father with her calm, gentle and yet incredibly stubborn nature, unwilling to take any of his bullshit and willing to call him out on it, constantly.

Still, Max wanted to get to Colette. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay eventually. He wanted to place a hand on her swollen belly and feel bébé rumble underneath her skin…wanted to see that everything was alright with her and their baby. 

“You have a job to do,” his father said drily. “Colette isn’t alone. She has her family with her.”

Max didn't answer, just clenched his jaw.

He knew his father was right, he had a job to do, a race to focus on. But the thought of leaving Colette to deal with that by herself…it didn't sit well with him.

“She’s pregnant,” he hissed. “You want me to care about a race while my pregnant girlfriend is an ocean away, distraught, because our relationship just became public knowledge?!” Max asked sharply.

His father scowled.

“She has her brothers and her mother with her,” he repeated sternly. “I’m sure they can calm her down and make sure she’s taken care of in your absence. But the team needs you to focus on the race. Besides…It ha​​s been a long time coming…”

He knew he had a job to do. He had a race to focus on, a team that was depending on him to be at the top of his game. It was his job to win, no matter what was going on at home.

“Fine,” he gritted out, turning around to leave the room. “I’ll focus on the damn race.”

He took a deep breath, trying to push all thoughts of Colette out of his mind. He needed to focus. He needed to push aside his emotions and put his game face on.

He was a professional and he had a job to do.

He could deal with driving.  He could deal with managing a respectable 5th place on the grid in Qualifying…he couldn’t deal with the press afterwards.

He was surrounded by reporters, camera flashes and microphones. They were all firing question after question at him, shoving the microphones closer and closer to his face.

"Max, is it true that you and Colette Leclerc are in a relationship?"

Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. He didn’t want to give them any ammunition, anything they could use to try and dig deeper into his personal life. But he knew he couldn’t ignore the question either.

“I don’t see how my relationship status is relevant to the race,” he snapped back. “I’m here to talk about the race, not my personal life.”

They happily ignored that: “What’s Charles’ reaction to your relationship?”

Max clenched his jaw again, the anger starting to boil over. He hated this, the way they felt like they had the right to just poke and prod at his life like it was some kind of spectacle for them to enjoy.

“I’m not discussing my personal life,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “I’m here to talk about the race.”

But the reporters weren’t interested in the race. They were only interested in the juicy gossip of Max Verstappen dating Colette Leclerc.

More microphones were shoved in his face, more questions were asked, each one more invasive than the last.

“How serious is your relationship with Colette?”

“Are you engaged?”

“What did you think about what she posted on Instagram?“

“I think that Colette’s Instagram account is private for a reason,” he said tightly.

The reporters fell silent for a moment, surprised by the harsh tone. Max knew he was skating on thin ice, but he didn’t care. He was angry, frustrated and upset. He wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to just brood and worry about Colette in peace.

“I think that George overreacted about something that was posted on a private Instagram profile that has less than 200 followers. ” Max bit out. “There is a difference between posting something for your friends and family to see and complaining about this to the press when George knew it would be put all over the media.”

The reporters were stunned into silence at his outburst.

Max knew he had crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t be snapping at them like that, but he couldn’t help it. He was so frustrated and upset, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he had to reel it in before he said something he would regret even more. “I have already lost all respect for George Russell before, but he has crossed a line when he dragged this into the public sphere,” he said flatly.

The reporters' eyes widened, surprised by the ferocity of his words.

Max knew he was being harsh, but he didn’t care. He was furious, enraged. How dare Russell expose their private life like that? 

Max took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. But it was hard. The anger was like a living thing inside him, seething and burning. He wanted to storm over to the Mercedes garage and punch Russell in the face, to wipe that smirk off his face for good. But he knew he couldn’t. 

So he stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to keep the anger at bay. Trying to ignore the way the reporters were looking at him with greedy, excited eyes.

He knew they wanted him to explode, to lash out. They wanted him to go off the rails and say something even more incriminating. Something they could use to make more headlines. But Max couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t let them get a rise out of him. So he stood there, trying his best to remain calm and collected.

But it was hard. So goddamn hard.

He could feel the tension in his body, feel the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to do something, to take action and make the situation right. But he didn’t know what he could do, how he could make it right.

He didn’t know how he could fix the mess that had been made, how he could turn back time and undo the damage that had been done.

"Do you have any questions about the race tomorrow? Because otherwise I am done," he asked.

The reporters stood there for a moment, frozen in shock. Then, a few of them started to ask questions about the upcoming race, but Max could tell that their hearts weren’t in it. They were too distracted by his outburst, too eager to keep prodding at the sensitive issue of his relationship with Colette.

The reporters looked at each other for a moment, unsure whether to press him further or not. Max could see the wheels turning in their heads, could see them trying to decide whether they would press the issue or let it go.

Eventually, the more sensible reporters began to ask questions about the race, steering the conversation away from the minefield of his personal life.

[vantetaes]

SPRING FLING🫧🥂

COUNTRY BOY! EREN X CITY GIRL BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!!! yn goes back to visit what once was her home 15 years ago, only to meet a new face.

WARNINGS!!! 18+!!! high sexual themes! oral (f receiving), penetration, slow burn before smut

a part of you missed it. waking up to the fresh smell of sausage sizzling in hot grease while grits simmered on a burner next to it. feeling the cool summer breeze whip around your sweltering body from playing kickball in the large mowed field with some of the towns kids. drinking freshly squeezed lemonade your grandmother made before tending to her garden.

as the driver slowly approaches your grandparents estate, your heart couldn’t help but to let up a little. the large white house still sat perfectly on their plot of land.

“yn, sweetheart!” the houses screen door flys open with a screech. your grandmother dressed in a flowing white dress, tan beach hat, arm decorated with small gold bangles and her wedding band catching rays of sun.

the driver places his car in park, opening his door to retrieve your suitcase from the trunk. hopping out of the yellow vehicle, the older lady meets you halfway. wrinkled hands caressing your face, she smiles.

“it’s been too long. you’re all grown up on us!”

before anything could leave your lips, a grunt comes from around the bend of the house. your grandfather, covered in motor oil and dirt caked overalls. he removes his gloves, walking towards you and his wife, smile reaching his ears.

“ah i would hug ya honey but im dirtier than the pigs!”

your grandparents liked the life they lived away from the city. the way they could sit on the wrap around porch, grandfather sipping a beer and grandmother some lemonade, their towns newspaper tucked in their palms. watching as the sun ducked their bright red barn, casting a golden glow over the crops and animals grazing on the lush landscape. the stars peeking through transparent clouds, moon creating its atmosphere in the sky.

your grandmother enjoyed picking fresh fruits from her orchard, baking pies and making jams with the delectable fruits. your grandfather loved the lake that sat on the other side of the large property. growing up you’d grown to love these things about them.

as for yourself? you wouldn’t be caught dead doing half the things they do.

your career path led you to pharmaceutical consulting. working for one of the biggest companies in the world. it wasn’t something you enjoyed, but it funded the life you wanted.

living in a penthouse, well off from the city below you. the work was intense, demanding, and you needed to stay on top of it. anyone is replaceable in jobs such as those.

which is why you put in every single pto hour you had into a month long vacation.

to the middle of nowhere.

the wheels of the suitcase clank against the wooden stairs as your grandfather lugs it up the flight. following behind the older lady, excitement bubbles out of your grandmother while she quickens her pace, rushing to the door at the end of the hallway.

when she pushes the door open, it gives way easily, the hinges murmuring softly. the air that greets you is faintly cool, laced with the sweet scent of spring. someone had left the large french windows cracked open, the lace curtains drifting in slow, ghostly ripples.

“just like you left it, darlin’!” the lady says cheerfully.

stepping in feels like stepping back into a memory too fragile to hold in your hands. the room is pale, almost dreamlike. soft white walls, still wearing faint shadows of posters long torn away, frame the space. A canopy bed sits against the far wall, its sheer, pastel pink and ivory drapes spilling down like delicate water, pooled at the floor as if waiting for someone to step through them. the bed itself is made, layered with quilts of faint creams and frilly edges, whispering of afternoons spent sprawled on its surface with a book or diary.

“mary anne, we gotta get back to town to pick up some more feed for the chickens! ‘for the sun go down! i ain’t got my glasses either.” after placing your suitcase inside the threshold, your grandfather gives the back of your head a slight hold before placing a small kiss to the top.

“okay! okay! you ain’t gotta rush, clyde!” the two eventually leave you alone to unpack and do as you need.

to the right, a dresser waits, its porcelain knobs cool and familiar, though you can see chips where small hands must have struck too hard, too often. a vintage vanity mirrors the scene beside it, its surface cluttered with an array of glass perfume bottles, now dulled with dust. the mirror above has started to haze, its edges flecked with age, but you can still catch glimpses of yourself. a cushioned stool still sits beneath, its ruffled seat faded and threadbare.

the light here is alive. golden and warm, it pours through the cracked windows, catching on floating dust motes that swirl like restless fireflies. outside, unseen branches scratch faintly against the frame, their new leaves brushing with the weightlessness of spring. the breeze curls in through the cracks, carrying the faintest hints of magnolia and freshly turned earth, slipping beneath the canopy and rustling the skirts of the curtains.

there’s a rug in the center of the room, its edges frayed, and around it—near bookshelves that haven’t been touched in years—small details stand out like relics: a porcelain music box with its lid still half-open, a stuffed rabbit missing one eye perched on the window seat. all of it feels caught in a quiet kind of waiting.

your footsteps are softened by the wooden floor beneath, the boards groaning faintly under your weight. you look around and inhale deeply. it smells faintly of lavender, of clean linens, freshly cut grass, and mahogany wood.

the hot water washes away the weight of the morning and plane rides, the steam curling in soft, misty clouds that cling to the glass. you stand under the spray longer than you need to, letting it loosen muscles you hadn’t realized were tight, letting it strip the last remnants of dust from your skin. when you finally step out, the room feels cooler, the steam clinging to the mirror and walls in beads of condensation.

lathing your body in cocoa butter and applying a fair amount of lip balm.

you pull on something simple: a soft white tank top and a pair of loose cerulean cotton shorts, light enough to let the sun find your skin. carefully pulling your shower cap off, the water droplets falling down to your shoulders, running off your moisturized skin. you grab a new bottle of sunscreen from your spwarled out suitcase, the book ‘if cats disappeared from the world’, and your black chanel sunglasses.

as you make your way barefoot down the creaking staircase, everything tucked in between your arm. the house warm and bright in a way that feels both lived-in and empty. you’re halfway to the back porch when the front door swings open, and your grandparents call for your attention.

“hey, hold up a minute-” your grandfather says, pausing just inside the doorway, his hat in one hand and the keys to the truck jangling in the other. Your grandmother lingers behind him, hands resting on her hips, her face soft but serious.

“-we’re headed into town for a bit.” she says. “need some supplies for the farm and a few other things.”

you nod, shifting your weight onto one foot as you glance toward the back porch, toward the promise of sun and quiet.

“‘fore you run off-” your grandfather adds, pulling the hat onto his head.

“one of the town boys is ‘posed to be stoppin’ by. hes gone take a look at the barn, see about fixin’ up some of the beams we been neglectin’.”

“you’ll know him when you see him.” she says, a touch warily.

“so just keep an eye out. he’s probably fine, but you know how folks can be.”

something about their tone. half warning, half habit. makes you bristle. you know how quickly people judge someone based on a name, a family, a shadow cast long before them.

“all right.” you say lightly, hoping to end the conversation before it becomes something heavier.

“i’ll be outside if he shows up.”

your grandmother nods, giving you one last lingering look, and then they’re gone—boots on the porch steps, the truck’s engine growling to life and disappearing down the road. you linger by the door for a moment, watching the dust settle in the empty yard. the house feels quieter now, a little too still.

when you turn toward the back porch, the sunlight calls to you again, warm and golden, a balm for whatever comes next.

the back door opens swiftly, letting in gusts of spring air to sweep across the floors. trudging through the plains of grass tickling your thighs, you find yourself at the small floating pond your grandfather built. it sat in front of the large red barn, creating a scene of what farm living actually is.

the pond is fairly quiet, except for the hum of cicadas and the faint lapping of water against its banks. the cows deep moo a little in the distance. the sun hangs high, drenching everything in gold, and the heat wraps around you like a second skin.

you’re stretched out on a reclined lawn chair, a thin towel draped beneath you to catch the sweat. your sunglasses shield your eyes, and a book rests open in your hands, though the words blur a little under the laziness of the afternoon. a half eaten sandwich and a glass of fresh strawberry lemonade sweats beside you, the condensation leaving rings of water on the tiny wooden table. it’s sweet and cold against your tongue, a small relief in the heaviness of the heat.

your top is flung casually over the back of the chair, leaving you in a white bathing suit, comfortable and unbothered as you let the sun soak into your skin. the soft breeze off the water kisses your shoulders every now and then, rustling the pages of your book.

it isn’t until the sharp, uneven sound of boots on gravel carries over the quiet that you lift your sunglasses, brow pinching.

at first, you only catch a shadow moving toward you from the far side of the reservoir. someone tall, broad-shouldered, and clearly not your grandparents.

“hey!” the voice calls, deep but rough, like he hasn’t spoken much today.

you sit up a little straighter, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you look him over. he’s closer now, close enough for you to see the sharp lines of his face, the way dark hair falls a little too messily over his forehead. he’s wearing a plain t-shirt, worn jeans stained at the knees, and scuffed boots that kick up small puffs of dirt as he moves. there’s a toolbox in his hand, which he sets down carelessly at his feet.

“you’re, uh…-” he trails off, scanning you quickly before looking away, his jaw tight. he was issued to seeing old people on this property. but you were a sight for sore eyes. he couldn’t help but fixate his green eyes back onto you. watching as the beads of condensation dripped from the glass to your exposed cleavage, sliding down between your moisturized boobs. that were too big for the swim top your sported. his eyes fed off the way your e/c* eyes shined in the light under the black shields, lips glistening under the rays.

“im here for the barn. your grandparents said someone would be around.” his words are tight and frigid.

you blink, caught between annoyance and curiosity.

“yeah, they mentioned you.” you let your sunglasses slide back into place, leaning back in the chair as if his presence hasn’t disrupted anything.

“didn’t realize you’d be here so soon.”

“you’re welcome.” he mutters, a hint of sarcasm threading through the words as he squats to grab the toolbox.

you raise a brow, bristling.

“didn’t say i was thanking you.”

that makes him pause, glancing up through his lashes like he can’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed. a scoff releases from his lips.

“you sure are a real warm welcome, huh? and you’re reading a book about.. cats?”

“and you’re a little grumpy for someone who just got here. not that it’s any of your concern, i prefer cats over mutts.”

he huffs out a breath, maybe a laugh, but it’s hard to tell, and shakes his head, muttering something you can’t quite hear. you watch as he straightens up again, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead as if to dismiss you entirely.

“look, i’ll stay outta your way. just here to fix the barn, ma’am.” he says, nodding toward the distant structure.

“you can go back to… whatever this is.” his gaze flickers briefly over your lemonade, the book, your sprawled-out figure in the sun, before he turns on his heel and starts walking toward the barn.

you glare after him, irritation bubbling to the surface. the nerve of him, showing up out of nowhere with a chip on his shoulder like you’re the one invading his day.

“you’re welcome.” you call after him pointedly, though he doesn’t stop, just throws a hand up in a half-hearted wave of dismissal.

the barn door groans open in the distance, and you sink back into your chair with a huff, flipping your book shut. for the first time all day, the quiet doesn’t feel so peaceful anymore.

he had been long gone by the time your grandparents arrived back at the house. watching the sun set on the horizon out of the kitchen windows, casting a warm orange and pink hue to the house. you couldn’t help but to think about how strange of an interaction that was today.

“some’ wrong, darlin’?” your grandfather asks, pulling apart a small peice of his dinner roll, slipping it into his mouth.

“nothing papa. just tired i think. not really used to the time difference again.”

-

the kitchen smells like sugar, butter, and lemon zest. thick and warm in the morning light streaming through the windows. you stand beside your grandmother at the granite counter, your hands dusted in flour as you work a soft, pliable ball of dough, rolling it carefully under her watchful gaze. the little puffs of flour catch the light as they float lazily to the counter, turning the morning into something hazy and dreamlike. outside, the morning doves are already humming, and the breeze carries the faintest whiff of honeysuckle through the cracked window above the sink.

“not too thin now, dear.” your grandmother says gently, leaning over to inspect your work. her hair is pinned back neatly, and there’s a streak of flour on her cheek that she hasn’t noticed.

“these tarts need some structure, or they’ll fall apart ‘fore they make it to the church. we can’t have a lock in with no tarts, honey.”

“yes, ma’am.” you mutter, suppressing a small smile as you focus on the dough, guiding it into perfect little circles for the tart shells.

the table is cluttered with bowls and ingredients. deep red raspberries, bright and glistening, piled in a pale ceramic dish; a glass juicer with lemon pulp still clinging to its grooves; a small jar of sugar, the lid left slightly askew. your grandmother moves around the kitchen like she always has. calm, methodical, humming a hymn under her breath as she fills the air with the scent of baking pastry. you help her spoon the tart mixture into the shells, carefully pressing a few raspberries into each before she slides them into the oven, her hands covered in oven mitts patterned with sunflowers.

while the tarts bake, she chats softly about who will be at the church service, about old friends and new faces, her voice lilting as if trying to bridge the years that you’ve been gone. it’s comforting, her easy way of speaking, and you let it wash over you as you wipe down the counters, the scent of caramelizing sugar growing richer by the minute.

“i really appreciate your help this mornin’.” her sweet voice fills the silence.

your grandfather appears in the doorway just as you’re checking the tarts, a small grin tucked beneath his mustache. hes holding a set of keys. old, scratched, and gleaming faintly in his calloused hand.

“got something for ya.” he says, the words light but carrying a weight that makes you stop mid-step.

your grandmother glances over her shoulder, smiling softly as if she’s been expecting this.

“go on, now. see what he’s got.”

you follow your grandfather outside, the morning sun already high and hot, the light pooling across the gravel driveway. parked just off to the side of the house is a truck—not new by any stretch of the imagination, but clean, its pale blue paint shining faintly in the sunlight. it’s an older model, rounded and boxy in that classic way, and you can see where he’s spent hours tinkering with it. fresh tires, a polished hood, the faint scent of oil and steel lingering in the air.

“you’re givin’ me this?” you ask, a little breathless.

“sure am.” he replies, pressing the keys into your palm with a nod that’s gruff but affectionate.

“i’ve been workin’ on it a few months now. runs smooth s’ever. figured you might want somethin’ to get around while you’re here.”

the gesture hits you harder than you expect, and you swallow against the sudden warmth building in your chest.

“thank you,” you say softly, running your fingers over the keys before looking back at him.

he pats your shoulder in that firm, no-nonsense way of his.

“you go on, take her for a spin. just don’t let it sit idle too long, y’hear?”

you decide you can’t possibly drive your new truck around town in the same pajama bottoms and rumpled tank top you’ve been in since morning. after a quick shower, you stand in front of the mirror in your childhood bedroom, brushing your hair as the sun filters softly through the lace curtains. you choose something easy. a flowy white sundress, the fabric soft against your skin, cinched at the waist, flaring out below. it’s the kind of dress that moves when you walk, catching the breeze and making you feel like youre floating. slipping on tan sandals and grabbing your sunglasses.

sliding into the truck feels surreal, the leather of the driver’s seat warm beneath your legs as you turn the ignition. the engine rumbles to life with a satisfying purr, and you grip the wheel with a grin you can’t quite suppress.

the drive into town is nothing short of idyllic. the windows are rolled down, the warm breeze tugging at your hair and the hem of your dress as you cruise past fields of tall grass and wildflowers. radio crackles softly, static giving way to an old country song you don’t recognize but hum along to anyway. the town comes into view slowly. a handful of streets lined with brick buildings, white picket fences, and storefronts with painted signs. it’s small and familiar, a place where everyone knows everyone, and yet it feels entirely new through your eyes.

you park the truck just off the main street, slipping the keys into your bag before heading toward the square. the town is quiet, but there’s enough movement to remind you that life trickles on here. people chatting on porches, kids weaving through alleys on their bikes, a group of guys sitting on the bed of an old truck parked near the general store.

you don’t notice them at first, too busy taking in the details of the place. but their voices, loud and lazy—drift over as you pass.

“well, well.” one of them drawls, amusement curling through the words.

“ain’t expect to see you all the way out here.”

you glance over sharply, your gaze landing on none other than him. eren jaeger. leaned back against the tailgate of the truck, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. his friends exchange looks that border on curious and entertained.

“didn’t expect you to talk to me.” you shoot back without missing a beat, stopping just a few feet away.

eren raises a brow, clearly enjoying this already.

“oh, don’t worry. i’m just surprised you’re not still sunbathing by the pond, princess.”

“princess? it’s yn to you. and all of you.” you repeat, folding your arms across your chest.

“also, big talk for someone who can’t even find full jeans.” your acrylic points to the dirty man-made holes decorating the boys jeans.

that earns you a snort of laughter from one of his friends, but eren just tilts his head slightly, the smirk never faltering.

“guess you’re still mad about yesterday. why you so upset at me, darlin’?”

“mad? please.” you say, rolling your eyes. “nothing even happened.”

“mmh. sure you aren’t.” he says, pushing off the tailgate to stand up fully, his height a little more imposing up close. there’s something sharp about him. his voice, his gaze, but beneath it is something else, something less certain. you get the feeling he’s used to being looked at sideways, just like your grandparents warned you about.

“you always this charming, or is it just for me?” you ask, tipping your chin up slightly. eyes meeting his low green ones.

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as his friends snicker quietly behind him.

“you’re somethin’ else.” he mutters, more to himself than to you. turning on your heels, you rush to excape the uncomfortable encounter.

“see you around, princess.”

-

the next day stretches out slow and quiet. the house feels bigger without your grandparents, their absence leaving a stillness that clings to every corner. you’ve taken full advantage of the solitude, padding barefoot through the rooms in an oversized t-shirt and little else. the fabric brushes against your thighs as you move, worn soft with age, like an old friend. the back of the shirt reads something about a fishing derby from a year that predates you, and you’ve rolled the sleeves haphazardly up your shoulders, letting the collar slip wide against your collarbone.

you spend the morning lazing on the couch, your legs sprawled across the cushions as you flip halfheartedly through a book you aren’t really reading. somewhere outside, birds chatter, and the cicadas hum their slow, pulsing chorus.

it’s the kind of day where time feels like it doesn’t exist. you shuffle into the kitchen whenever you’re hungry, toast a bagel you don’t finish, drink lemonade straight from the pitcher, and leave the radio on low just to fill the silence. some soft, crooning voice filters through the speakers, adding to the lazy weight of the afternoon.

you’re perched on the arm of the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, flipping through an old fashion magazine you found tucked in a drawer when the knock comes, sharp and sudden against the door.

it startles you, your head snapping up as the noise echoes through the quiet house. the second knock follows quickly, impatient this time. you glance toward the clock on the wall, but it’s no help, just another reminder that time isn’t real today.

frowning, you slide off the couch, tugging the hem of your t-shirt self-consciously as you head toward the door. the knob feels cool beneath your fingers as you pull it open just far enough to see who it is.

and there he is.

eren, standing on your grandparents’ front porch like he belongs there, though his posture suggests otherwise. hes got one hand braced against the doorframe, his other hooked loosely in the pocket of his jeans. a thin white t-shirt clings to him in the heat, faint smudges of dirt streaked across the fabric like he’s been working outside all day. his dark hair looks even messier than it did before. some tucked into the cowboy hat, other strands falling over his forehead and curling faintly from the humidity.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his gaze catching on your bare legs before he flicks his eyes up to meet yours. his expression shifts, something unreadable dancing just beneath the surface. you realize too late how you must look: hair messy, t-shirt oversized and sliding off your shoulder, a little breathless from having rushed to the door.

“what?” you say finally, crossing your arms over your chest as if that might protect you from the way he’s looking at you.

“nice greeting.” he says dryly, his voice low and a little rough around the edges.

“well, you did show up uninvited.” you shoot back, arching a brow.

“what do you want?”

eren exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused but trying not to show it.

“your grandparents asked me to stop by. said there’s a busted pipe in the barn and they didn’t want to wait until they got back to fix it.”

you frown, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe.

“and they sent you?”

“clearly.” his lips twitch, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“believe it or not, i know how to do more than just piss you off.”

you roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“well, the barn’s out back. you know where it is. the big. red. building.”

“i do. smartass.” he says, but he doesn’t move, and there’s a spark of something in his eyes. mischief, maybe. that makes you suddenly aware of just how much skin your t-shirt doesn’t cover.

“what?” you ask again, sharper this time.

“nothing.” he shrugs, the movement lazy as he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step back.

“just didn’t peg you for the type to lounge around in your underwear all day. but what do i know? you wore a bikini outside.”

heat flashes across your cheeks instantly, and you grip the edge of the door tighter.

“it’s not underwear, creep. it’s comfortable.”

“sure.” he says, smirk fully formed now as he starts toward the barn, hands tucked into his pockets.

“looks real… comfortable.”

you slam the door before he can say anything else, the wood rattling in the frame.

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of his boots on the gravel, his laughter carrying faintly through the cracked window.

the hum of the radio drifts on, and sunlight still slants through the windows, but something about the space feels restless now. like the air has been disturbed and won’t settle again. you find yourself standing by the door, chewing your lip and staring at nothing in particular.

it’s curiosity, you decide. that’s all it is. you’re just curious about him. about the boy who showed up at your door unannounced, dripping sarcasm like it’s second nature, as though he thrives on pressing your buttons. that’s why, after pacing the kitchen once or twice, you tug on a pair of shoes and head outside.

the barn stands at the back of the property, worn and familiar, its paint faded and roof patched with tin that glints under the afternoon sun. the gravel crunches beneath your feet as you cross the yard, your shadow stretching long ahead of you. you can hear him before you see him. something clattering against metal, followed by a low muttered curse that drifts out through the open barn doors.

you pause just outside, peeking around the corner. eren is crouched low near the base of a wooden post, his toolbox spread out beside him, sleeves shoved up to his elbows. sweat glistens faintly along the line of his neck, dark hair curling slightly against his temple, though he seems too focused on whatever he’s fixing to notice you.

“i hope you don’t talk to the pipes like that.” you say, stepping into the doorway.

eren glances up sharply, his eyes narrowing as soon as he sees you.

“what are you doing in here?”

“just checking on you.” you lean against the frame, arms crossed, the hem of your t-shirt fluttering faintly in the breeze.

“you could be in here stealing, for all I know.”

he snorts, turning back to the pipe.

“yeah, im gonna steal an old tractor and a pile’a hay. that’ll really set me up for life.”

“you’ve got the attitude for it.” you shoot back.

eren doesn’t respond right away, just reaches into his toolbox and pulls out a wrench, testing the pipe with a faint metallic screech. you take the opportunity to wander further into the barn, your bare legs brushing against the dust-speckled air, the smell of earth and old wood thick in your nose.

“don’t distract me.” he mutters after a moment, though there’s no real heat in it.

“distract you from what?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“you seem like you know what you’re doing.”

“i do.” he replies quickly, then pauses to glance up at you again, that familiar edge of sarcasm tugging at his voice.

“but I don’t need you hovering over me like a supervisor.”

“im not hovering.” you say, wandering toward the ladder that leads up to the loft. You trail your fingers along a beam as you go, the wood rough and splintered beneath your touch.

“im just… observing.”

“observing me.” he corrects, the corner of his mouth twitching.

you shrug, tilting your head to look at him.

“maybe. you’re hard to figure out.”

“well… why are ya tryin’ t’figure me out?” he fires back, turning his full attention to you now. his gaze is sharp, but there’s something behind it. something curious, like he’s trying to pick you apart the same way you’re doing to him.

you hesitate, feeling your face heat up despite yourself.

“im just bored.”

“bored ?” eren repeats, his voice dry.

“well, sorry im not here to entertain you, princess.”

you bristle at the nickname, pushing off the beam to face him fully.

“will you quit calling me that?”

“what?” he says, smirking now. “does it bother you?”

“obviously.”

“good.” he huffs a quiet laugh under his breath, shaking his head as he goes back to the pipe, adjusting the wrench with a sharp twist. the muscles in his forearm flex with the movement, beads of sweat dripping from his body.

“you’re insufferable.” you mutter, rolling your eyes as you turn and start to climb the ladder to the loft. the wood creaks faintly under your hands and feet, but you ignore it, needing to put a little distance between you and him.

“where are you going?” he calls from below, sounding more amused than anything.

“away from you!” you shout back, hoisting yourself onto the loft and brushing the dust from your knees. the space is dim, beams of sunlight filtering through the slats in the walls, catching on cobwebs and hay strewn across the floor. you sink down near the edge, letting your legs dangle as you glance back down at him.

“don’t worry. i won’t distract you from all your hard work.”

eren glances up at you with a look that’s half exasperation, half something else. he stands, tossing the wrench back into his toolbox with a faint clatter.

“or you could just gone back in the house. you’re a real piece’a work, you know that?”

“you’re one to talk.” you shoot back, swinging your feet slightly.

“you act like you hate me, but you keep showing up.”

“i don’t hate you and i keep showing up for your folks, not you.” he mutters, scrubbing the back of his hand across his forehead as he looks away.

“you just talk too much.”

“and you’re just cranky.”

he lets out a soft laugh, one that seems to surprise even him. when he looks back at you, his expression is different, though it’s hard to tell in the dappled light of the barn.

“you don’t know anything about me.” he says finally, his voice quieter this time.

you tilt your head, studying the man below you.

“maybe not. but I know you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

eren stiffens slightly at that, his jaw ticking as he averts his gaze. for a moment, the only sound is the wind pressing against the barn, rattling the boards, and the distant hum of cicadas.

“you don’t know that either. and what about you, huh? showing’ up outta nowhere. bein’ as bossy as you are?” he says eventually, his tone flat.

“im a pretty good judge of character. and i used to live here. a lot changes in fifteen years.”

he scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it.

“you’re annoying.”

“and yet you’re still here.” you say, letting a smile creep onto your face.

the loft creaks beneath you, but you don’t think much of it at first. it’s old, worn by years of weight and weather, and the barn itself seems to hum with the memory of its age. eren is below, fiddling with his toolbox, muttering curses under his breath as he wrestles with some stubborn pipe or post. you’re perched on the edge of the loft, legs dangling as you watch him, not bothering to hide your smirk.

“you’re taking forever.” you tease, your voice carrying through the barn.

eren pauses, glancing up with an annoyed glare.

“if you think you can do it faster, darlin’ , be my guest.”

“oh, i didn’t say that.” you reply, leaning back with a huff of satisfaction.

“i’m just observing how inefficient you are.”

he mutters something under his breath, shaking his head, and you’re about to push his buttons again when the sharp sound of splintering wood freezes you. the beam beneath you gives a slow, aching groan. erens head shoots up, noticing the lift giving in right where you sat.

you don’t have time to react. the wood cracks loudly, shattering the stillness, and suddenly you’re falling.

it happens in a rush. your stomach lurching, air rushing past you, hands scrambling for anything to grab. you hit something solid but not the ground. the impact knocks the wind out of you, but there are arms around you, holding you tightly.

“jesus christ!” eren’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and alarmed. “are you stupid?”

your brain catches up slowly, heart still slamming against your ribs as you look up to find eren staring down at you. his face is just inches from yours, his arms wrapped firmly around you where he caught you before you could hit the floor.

“i—” you start to say, but the words catch in your throat.

eren lets out a breath, long and shaky, as he lowers you carefully to the barn floor. his hands linger at your sides, steadying you. “are you okay?”

you try to nod, but then you feel it. the sharp, searing pain radiating up your leg. you wince, shifting slightly, and his eyes dart downward.

“you’re hurt.” he says flatly.

“no, i’m fine,” you lie, but as soon as you move your leg, the pain worsens. you look down to see a gash along your shin, blood streaking your skin where the wood must have splintered against you.

eren notices immediately.

“shit-” he mutters, reaching for you before you can protest. “don’t move.”

“eren, i’m fine,” you insist, but your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your leg.

“yeah, sure you are,” he shoots back, already scooping you up before you can argue. his arms slide beneath your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly.

“stop squirming, unless you wanna make this worse.”

you freeze, stunned at the way he carries you, like you weigh nothing at all. his face is set, focused, though you swear you can see a flicker of concern beneath the irritation.

“you don’t have to carry me.” you mumble, feeling heat creep up your neck.

he doesn’t look at you. “and what, let you drag yourself back to the house? don’t be stupid. now imma have to fix up the loft.”

the walk back to the house feels longer than usual, the silence stretching between you save for the crunch of his boots against the dirt. you steal glances at him—at the way his brow furrows in concentration, at the way his arms flex slightly beneath your weight. his grip is careful, like he’s afraid of jostling you too much.

“you’re really dramatic, you know.” you say quietly, trying to lighten the mood.

eren snorts, glancing down at you with a raised brow.

“me? you’re the one who decided to fall through the damn barn.”

“it wasn’t a choice.” you mutter, pouting slightly.

“whatever you say, princess.”

he carries you through the front door like it’s nothing, kicking it open with his boot before setting you down gently on the couch. the shift makes you wince, and he notices, crouching beside you immediately.

“last door on the left, under the sink.”

“stay put.” he says, voice low but firm, before disappearing into the bathroom.

you sigh, leaning your head back against the cushions as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind nothing but the dull ache in your leg and the embarrassment settling deep in your chest.

when eren comes back, he’s holding the first aid kit and a damp towel. he drops onto the floor in front of you, his knees brushing the edge of the couch as he sets everything down.

“this might sting.” he warns, wetting the towel before carefully pressing it to your shin.

you hiss through your teeth, nails curling into the couch cushion. “you could be a little gentler, you know.”

“i am being gentle.” he says, though his tone lacks its usual bite. he works quickly, cleaning the blood and dirt from the scrape before carefully dabbing it dry.

you watch him quietly as he unwraps a roll of gauze, his movements surprisingly careful, his expression softer than you’ve seen before.

“you didn’t have to do all this.” you say softly.

eren doesn’t look up, focused on securing the bandage.

“yeah, well. you’re not exactly good at taking care of yourself.”

“is that your way of saying you care?”

he pauses for half a second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. the look he gives you is unreadable, but there’s something there. something warm.

“just… don’t do anything stupid like that again.” he mutters, his gaze dropping back to the bandage.

you bite back a smile, watching as he finishes and sits back on his heels. his hands linger on your leg for a moment, testing to make sure the gauze is secure before he finally stands.

“thanks.” you say quietly, your voice soft.

eren just shrugs, grabbing the first aid kit and standing to his full height. “don’t mention it.”

you try to mimic his movements, grabbing onto the arm of the couch for support until the pain shoots you right back down. eren wastes no time meeting you at eye level again, frowing a little.

“you need to stay put. stop being so damn hardheaded, yn.”

“finally you use my name.” his eyes burn deep holes into yours, brown chunks of hair framing his face.

“eh. i still like princess.”

he pauses, just for a second, as if he’s considering something. then he turns, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“both are real pretty though.” he mutters, but his voice is quieter now, softer. there’s an edge of something else there, something that’s hard to place.

you feel your heart pick up, and before you can even process the thought, before you can even think to stop him, he’s closing the space between you. his hand comes to rest gently on the side of your face, and then, with surprising tenderness, he leans in. the kiss is slow, hesitant at first. just a brush of lips against yours. but it deepens quickly, and for a moment, it feels like time itself is holding its breath. maybe you were holding your breath. his hand curls around the back of your neck, and you instinctively lean into him, eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of his lips presses against yours, soft and urgent.

the kiss is over almost as soon as it started, and when he pulls back, his face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your skin. his eyes are dark, a little unsure, but there’s something raw there too.

“eren?” you whisper, breathless, unsure of what to say, what to do with the sudden surge of emotions.

he doesn’t speak at first, just looks at you like he’s trying to figure you out. his fingers linger against your skin for a second too long before he pulls away, stepping back.

“um, guess i’ll get going then.” he says, voice low, almost like he’s unsure of himself for the first time.

he basically rushes out the front door, leaving you with a bloody gauze pad wrapped around your shin and a sense of confusion.

-

the farmer’s market buzzes softly with life. the air smells of ripe peaches and freshly baked bread, and the sunlight filters through the trees, dappled and golden. you weave through the crowd, your basket swinging lightly on your arm, filled with a small loaf of sourdough and a jar of honey. it’s your favorite part of the week, wandering between the stalls, picking out produce and listening to the steady murmur of the townsfolk.

you’ve got a small crumpled list tucked into your hand: oat milk, a jar of honey, maybe some fresh greens, and you’re weaving your way through the market when you spot him. eren. he’s standing with a man you can only assume is his father. the resemblance is impossible to miss: the sharpness of the jawline, the same dark hair, though his father’s is streaked with gray, and the way they both carry themselves. quiet and a little standoffish. they’re posted at a vegetable stand, crates of carrots, onions, and cucumbers spread out before them. eren’s arms are crossed as he listens to something his father says, his brow furrowed like he’s only half paying attention.

something about the way eren glances around, almost restless, makes you hesitate. you watch for a beat longer, tucked slightly behind another booth, debating whether to approach. but then eren looks up, and his gaze lands on you. for a second, he’s still, his face unreadable. then his eyes shift slightly, narrowing, and it almost feels like he’s warning you.

you step forward anyway, hobbling a little on your sore leg.

“eren.” you say, your voice soft but steady. his name feels strangely loud against the background chatter, and both he and his father turn to look at you.

eren’s face tightens slightly, but he doesn’t look away. his father, on the other hand, gives you a long, slow once-over, his sharp green eyes cutting into you with a coolness that makes your chest tighten.

“who’s this?” his father asks, his tone mild but clipped, like the words have edges.

“yn, sir.” you offer quickly, stepping closer and giving him a polite smile.

“i’ve been staying with my grandparents for the spring. i’ve seen eren around, so i thought i’d introduce myself. he helps around a lot.”

you hold out your hand, but his father doesn’t take it. instead, he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the booth’s counter, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“introducing yr’self, huh?” he says, his voice light, almost amused, but there’s something underneath it, something just sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“not many of the town folk bother to stop by our booth, let’lone introduce themselves. guess you must be curious.”

you pull your hand back awkwardly, your smile faltering as you glance at eren.

“i just thought it would be nice, sir. i apologize.” you reply, trying to keep your voice even.

“your vegetables do look great.”

his father lets out a soft huff of a laugh, barely more than an exhale.

“yeah, they do, don’t they? we put a lotta work into this land. more than most people around here would know.”

eren shifts beside him, his jaw tightening.

“dad.” he mutters under his breath, but his father doesn’t even glance at him.

“you stayin’ with the wrights?” his father asks, tilting his head slightly.

“figured. they’re good people, always minding their own business. shame not everyone in town does the same.”

you blink, the words settling in your chest like stones. there’s no malice in his tone, not directly, but the weight of them is unmistakable.

eren’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, his shoulders tense.

“she’s just trying to be nice.” he says, his voice low, almost resigned, like he knows it won’t make a difference.

his father finally straightens, dusting his hands off on his jeans.

“nice is fine-” he says, glancing at you again. “-but not everyone ‘round here is friendly as they seem. might be worth ‘membering.”

the air between you feels tight, uncomfortable, and you’re not entirely sure if his words are meant as advice or something closer to a warning. you force another smile, even though your face feels stiff, and take a small step back.

“well, it was nice meeting you.” you say, your voice a little quieter now.

“i’ll let you both get back to work.”

eren looks at you then, his lips pressing together like he wants to say something but can’t. his father, however, just gives you a small, curt nod.

“have a good day, darlin’.” he says, the words clipped and formal.

you turn quickly, your cheeks burning, and make your way back into the flow of the market. the cheerful voices and warm sunlight feel duller now, muted by the lingering tension.

it’s not until you’ve stopped by another stall, pretending to inspect a bunch of lavender, that you feel eren’s presence beside you. you glance up, and there he is, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face pulled into a scowl.

“sorry about him.” he mutters, his voice low. “he’s… he’s just like that.”

you shrug, trying to act like it didn’t bother you, though the knot in your stomach hasn’t quite eased.

“it’s fine.” you say softly, but the look he gives you says he doesn’t believe you.

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the market swirls around you, full of life and sound, but between you, there’s only a quiet tension. finally, eren sighs, tilting his head toward the edge of the market.

“come on,” he says. “let’s get out of here.”

-

you’ve learned to move quietly, to slip through the back door of the house when no one’s looking, to meet him at the edge of the woods by the lake when the sun has set and the stars are just beginning to prick the sky. everything feels like it’s wrapped in silence, soft and secretive. even the air between you seems charged with something unspoken, something thrilling. for two weeks.

he was addictive.

soft whispers under your large quilts as his lips traced kisses from your neck to lips. engulfing you in a warm embrace. wind blowing through the windows he snuck into.

he loved seeing you drive past him casually in your truck while picking up groceries for your grandmother. watching your hair whip in the wind and the low hum of the trucks engine passing by.

when you and him sat in his living room, playing with the golden lab he named ‘scout’ when he was four. your fingers comb through his mane, tilting your face upwards to avoid from being licked by the drooling animal.

whenever your grandparents gave him yet another daunting task around the farm, he’d watch as your sprawled out in a bikini. sipping the sweet tea, beach hat shading your face. watching as the droplets of water dripped down your chest. he’d hate to admit how many times he’s almost nailed his hands to the barn.

“you okay over there?” your arm, half up in a wave, drawling his attention from your new position. you lay on your chest, slowly pulling at the strings holding your top up. letting them dangle off the side of the chair, you slide the waistline of your bottoms down a little.

“eren! why don’t you come have some lemonade with me?”

you were driving him nuts.

he loved how lively you would get after spending the afternoons in a tiny, quaint bar located on the outskirts of town.

the drives back usually consisting of you halfway out the passenger window, eyes gazing up at the sky as you took advantage of the open landscape. eren would watch you intensely, eyes bouncing from the road back to you.

pulling into erens dirty path driveway, he pulls your body across the long front seat, carefully tucking his arms under your knees and around your back.

“im not drunkk!” you whine, face buried into the crook of the man’s neck while he places you down softly on the dark leather couch. closing his front door, his hand runs through his brown locs with an exasperated sigh.

“you need to sober up so i can take you home, yn. i ain’t trynna deal with a angry mob of old church people.” his height blinds out everything in your path as he stands over you. his large hands cup your face gently.

“boy im grown, come here.” you whisper, pulling him down by the forearm, eyes never leaving his. green eye flicker from your eyes to your glossed lips. your essence was like a gravitational pull.

lips locked onto one another, you can’t help but to notice he much softer his lips have gotten.

“you been exfoliating?”

“i’on know what that is, shut up and kiss me.”

it was hungry. borderline filthy the way his hands rubbed you down slowly. caressing the dips of your waist, cold jewelry slides across your stomach, hitching your breath. the tank top you wore stood no chance. brown nipples poking through the sheer cotton fabric.

hes smiling. feeling his hands roam you so freely. he couldn’t help but to take his thumbs and pointer fingers, slipping them into his mouth and out with a quick pop! going back under your shirt, he takes your perky buds in between his fingers, rolling them slowly as the rest of his hands cup your breast.

“oh! eren- oh my god.”

his lips pepper kisses all over your exposed skin, nipping at spots before kissing over the pain. hands roam down to your thighs, giving them tight grips before sliding down the couch.

eyes latched onto each other, you can’t help but to whine.

“please eren.”

this was the first time in years you’ve felt this strong of an attraction towards someone else. crazy for it to be eren of all people.

“please, what?” he’s slowly tugging at the drawstrings of the shorts you wore. eyes locked on you with a burning passion. sitting up against the arm of the couch, your shorts make it to the other side of the room.

your jaw is wide , eren hissing when you tug at his long brown locks. the moment he’s sliding his middle fingers into your burning core, stretching you open as his thumb slowly teases your clit. his body proceeding lower, all you can feel is slight gust of air hitting your cunt. his lips wrap gently around the swollen bud, sucking agonizingly slow, saliva and slick stick to the man’s face. he hums into your taste, wrapping his arms around the base of your thighs. he laid fully out on the couch.

instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm and nose. feeling his tongue slip inside your clenching hole, only to add two of his slender fingers.

his fingers scissor up into your throbbing cunt, hitting your sweet spot.

“babyy” you whimper, barely able to get anything out with the man’s face devouring you below. eyes closed in euphoria and concentration. hands interlocked into his head full of hair, your moans grow louder.

“doin’ such a good fuckin’ job, princess.”

feeling how he used his thumbs to spread open your pussy, using his tongue to penetrate your clenching hole. his tongue dips into you, coating his tongue in your cum, before coming back out and circling your swollen bud. the repetitive sensation sends you into a fit of louder moans, enticing the man to keep going.

“oh! ba- fu,fuck eren! im fucking c-“ the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your abdomen until you can't hold back anymore. not even when you’re cumming all over the man’s face, does he stop. he wants more now. he needs more.

from the first day he saw you out by the water, he knew he wanted you for himself. he watched the way you interacted with the townsfolk and farm animals. how sexy you were effortlessly. walking around your grandparents farm with nothing but a bikini on and practically see through shorts.

he hated to see other men in town look at you. the way the old, decrepit men would sit in the farmers markets and watch you browse around. whispering to each other while you naively chose your fruits and vegetables.

he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

his body jolts to a standing position, with ease he’s dipping down to pick you up off the couch. a large wet spot decorated the leather where you lie. he’s carrying you over his shoulder down the narrow hallway of the house.

“where we goin’?” you ask, eyes low and hazy.

you make it to the well decorated room. posters and band prints scattered on the wall , a radio sat in the corner, humming random songs from the station eren left it on. his bed was royal blue and well kept.

that was until you were being pounded into the bed.

you nails grip for anything they can reach. digging straight into the bed set, while his throbbing cock dips in and out of you. he has your right leg thrown over his shoulder, hands pinned to your waist as he draws out. face twisting in pleasure. his dick coated in the slippery substance, a faint white line forming the base of his cock as he moves in and out of you repeatedly .

“makin’ such a mess on me. pretty fuckin girl.”

he waste no time, throwing your other leg over his shoulder, locking you in as he quickens his pace. shallow breaths escape his mouth, eyes locked in concentration. you’re stuck with your mouth in an -o- shape as the man pounds you relentlessly. with a swift pull out, he taps against your side.

“on your knees, princess.”

on all fours, he wastes no time reinserting himself, bottoming out while his nails dig into the supple skin on your waist. the sound of skin slapping together and the wet squelches of your abused cunt bounce off the walls, filling your ears.

“i’ve wanted you for so long, you’re so good to me- fuck!”

the more your honey coated words fall from your lips, the more the man wants to ruin you. he wants to see you beg for him. he needed to have it.

pulling your arms from under you, he pins them to your back, locking you in an unforgiving arch. he feeds you slow, agonizing pleasing, strokes. loved watching the way your pussy desperately gripped around him as he pulled out.

trying your hardest to escape the abuse of your cervix, you try to pull away, only to receive a fire fueled spank on your ass.

“take this dick, baby. you had all that mouth ‘member? you can do it, i know ya can.”

his pace quickens, yearning for your release. the only thing you can form is small gasps of air as the man shows no mercy on your smaller frame.

“eren! oh shit- im cumming again ple-“

he releases your hands, using his free hand to rub at your clit as he continued fucking into you.

your body goes limp, clear liquid spewing out onto the man’s blankets. he flips you back over, eyes dark and full of hunger still.

“gimme just one more? please, honey. she just so good.”

folded into a middle split off the bed wasn’t something you ever thought you could do. yet here you were, on your back, eren standing in front of you, holding your legs apart.

his hips roll into yours, digging at your inside slowly. head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed and eyes low. your hands hold onto his muscular forearm, trying to keep grounded as the man was wearing you out.

with a few more thrust, he pulls out. long white ropes decorate his chest.

“you’re something special, yn.”

-

after your grandparents had gone into town for their usual errands, you find yourself at the edge of the lake, hidden in the soft embrace of the willow trees. the faint glow of fireflies flickers in the warm spring air, and the world feels still, like it’s holding its breath for what’s to come. eren’s there before you, waiting, leaning against a tree with a smile that always makes your stomach flip.

“thought you’d never show up,” he teases, his voice low and smooth, like it’s a secret only meant for you. his eyes flicker over you, and the corner of his mouth pulls into a crooked grin.

“you just like being dramatic,” you reply, though you can feel the flutter in your chest as you walk closer, the pull between you too strong to ignore.

he steps forward, closing the space between you, and before you can say anything else, his lips are on yours. quick, soft, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless. it’s always like this, quick, a rush of feeling that neither of you can seem to contain. he pulls away just as quickly, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.

“you’re insane.” you whisper, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

he grins, taking your hand and guiding you down the worn path toward the lake. the grass brushes against your bare legs, soft and cool under the fading light. the blanket he’s spread out by the water is a patchwork of colors. faded reds and yellows that look almost too bright against the darkening sky.

you settle down beside him, the scent of wildflowers heavy in the air. the lake reflects the dimming stars, the quiet ripples in the water mirroring the racing of your heart.

“y’know. ive been havin’ a lot of fun with you.” he playfully nudges your body, rocking you to the side.

“i know. imma miss you, country boy.” the fake southern accent rolled off your tongue sarcastically. although the tone was funny, something about erens aura shifted.

“what’s up? why’ve you gone all quiet?” you ask, eyes fixated on the male. the moonlight illuminated his face, exposing every freckle, unshaven parts of his face, and his eyes locked onto yours.

“i jus’ really don’t wanna let you go, princess.”

“don’t go all sappy on me now. i’ll visit when i can, you know that right?” he just nods, taking a drink of the beer he had before your arrival. the air was thick and warm, your knees pressed together, watching the water reflect the bedazzled night sky as eren just shuffles in his spot.

“yn, promise ya wont forget me?”

“eren-“ you try to stop the conversation before it happens. instead ending up in a tight hug from the man. his arms latch around your waist, head resting over your shoulder.

“im serious, yn. i ain’t ever felt this way for nobody.” pulling away, all you can see is his bright green eyes burning into yours.

“how could i ever?”

you lean in, your free hand brushing against his jaw as you kiss him. it’s slow, deliberate, and familiar, yet it feels new in the way it sends warmth flooding through you.

his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his touch firm but gentle as he deepens the kiss, like he’s trying to hold onto the moment for as long as he can. the world around you fades. the quiet lap of the water against the shore, the soft hum of the crickets. until there’s nothing but him.

when you finally pull back, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. eren’s thumb brushes over the curve of your jaw, and his lips curl into a small, almost sheepish smile.

“you ever thought about visiting the city?”

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

random inspo pics at the bottom? yes!

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part one ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, love.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovey. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right then and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

next >>

[fictionalmenxyn]

ꨄ𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭ꨄ

Pairing: Drew Starkey x actress!reader (established relationship) (prompt, see post below for context/what prompt is)

(Also ik Drew has sister/s. Idk how old they actually are so imma make it up to fit the story line) (reqs are open!!!)

Warnings: language, SMUT, p in v, no mentions of protection (wrap before you tap), detailed-ish smut. (First smut post so sos if it’s bad!)

𐬺ꨄ𐬺

Being back in your hometown felt great. After finishing the latest season of Outer Banks, you both wanted a small break. So that’s exactly what you did.

It was currently 11:38pm, all the younger siblings were in the basement. You were the eldest out of your siblings. You had two brothers and one sister. Your sister was 17 as your brothers were 15 and 13. Drew’s sisters were both 18 and 19.

You and Drew were in the kitchen. While all the siblings were in the movie room (your parents converted basement). You wore one of Drew’s grey sweatshirts and a pair of (has favourite) navy cycling shorts. Drew wore some grey sweats, his Calvin waistband poking out of the waistband of his sweats.

You sat on the island counter, a bowl of grapes in your lap. Drew leaned against the counter opposite you. You were watching something on your phone, he just watched you. God he could eat you up, right here, right now.

He stepped forward, standing between your legs. He placed the bowl down onto the counter next to you. He placed his hands either side of you, on the counter. “Hey, baby?” You look up to him. “Yeah?”

He grinned a little “you know… we haven’t had, ‘us’ time in a while… with all the filming and stuff… and you here, in my sweatshirt and those little navy shorts you know I love dearly… makes me think things…”

You smiled, putting your phone down “oh yeah? What things?” He chuckled lowly, moving his face closer to yours “well, all our siblings are in the basement… our parents are all over my parents place… we could head up to your room?” You smirked. Pecking his lips “sure, ba-”

Next thing you know you’re over his shoulder as he carried you to your room.

He opened the door with his spare hand. Then closing it with his foot. He walked over to your bed and placing you down.

Climbing, so he’s hovering over you. He moves his lips against yours. Kissing you as if he hasn’t in years. Drew was one for physical touch, he was heavy on hand holding and kisses. You kiss back, matching his energy. He groaned against your lips. He pulled away, only a centimetre. He whispered “god missed this, so much… gonna take you, right here.. right now, okay baby?” You nodded “yeah…”

His hands go to your thighs, pulling them apart. Letting himself kneel between them. He starts to kiss you again as his hands rub your thighs gently. His hands soon get to the waistband of your cycling shorts. He mumbled against your lips “love these shorts… but they gotta go… getting in the way of my sweet girl…” he tugs down your cycling shorts in one swift movement. Discarding your shorts to the floor.

His hips pressed against your pantie covered entrance. You hummed “fuck, Drew…miss you…” he knew what you were referring to. “Yeah? Missed my cock, babe?” You nodded. He grinned. He rolled his hips against you. Causing a soft gasp. God you could never get over how big he was. Being lovers for three and a half years, still you couldn’t fathom how huge he was. Still took all of him though, which he loved.

He rolled his hips again, he groaned “fuck baby…” he grabbed both waistbands of his sweats and boxers. Taking them off together, at the same time. Making him completely naked. He climbed back between you. You softly moaned as you felt him rub against you. He grinned “shall we get rid of this, sweetheart?” He tugs on your panties. You nod, not wanting to waste anytime.

You were completely bare, besides the oversized sweatshirt of his still on you. Just how he liked you, bare, but in his clothes.

He rubbed against you again. He groaned at how excited you could get, every time. Seeing you drenched for him, made him feral. He slowly pushed in, making small rolls as he adds more of himself to you. Causing soft moans each thrust.

Once he was completely in, you leaned down onto you. His face close to yours “gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl… I love you… so much.” You press a kiss to his forehead “I love you too, Drew.”

His fingertips rub up your forearms. Then interlocking and holding your hands into the mattress.

He started to slowly thrust, causing you to gasp. The noises becoming music to his ears. He slowly started to lick up the pace. His one hand lets go of yours, moving under the sweatshirt and needing your breast softly and lovingly.

Meanwhile, downstairs, both girls from each side were wanting you both for help. The coffee machine wasn’t working, only you and Drew knew how it works. Since both parents were over Drew’s family’s house; you two were their only help.

Drew moved his hand down from your chest to your thigh. Pushing it into the mattress more. His thrusts started to get sloppy and quick, every other would be hard thrusts.

You were a moaning mess, Drew smiles, knowing he does this to you. And only you.

Drew spoke “fuck, you look so good..taking all of me, like a good girl… always one f’me aren’t ya? Love when I fill you, don’t you?” You nodded. Your head tilting back into the pillows. He smiled.

Drew picked up the pace, moving the fastest he could go. You could feel the edge staring to come. You were almost there, about to finish. He could feel it, he was almost there too. Loving how you feel against him “feelin’ so good f’me baby… ssshhiitt…” he moaned. You rolled you eyes as his thrust became harder than before.

Both sisters headed upstairs, to the second floor. They walked down the hallway. As they got closer to your room, they walked over to the door.

You mumble to Drew “Drew, fuck… hmm shit.. gonna- ohhh…” Drew grinned “gonna finish with me, baby?” You nodded. Your free hand coming up to his bicep as you dig your nails into his muscle. He moaned at how much that turned him on.

Your sister knocked the door and opened it. Drew’s eyes widen, quickly pulling the covers over your lower bodies. He leaned down into you.

Both sister’s eyes widened. Your sister, Kayla spoke “what?! Ew you guys! Couldn’t you wait till we were all in bed?!?” You chuckled. Drew on the other hand… he hid his face in the crook of your neck. His intwined hand squeezing yours. He felt embarrassed, not cause of being caught making love to you. But the fact it was his sister, you’ve been walked in on a few times. Austin has walked in on you guys a few times on set; that being the reason you don’t do it on set anymore. But when it’s family, that’s different.

Drew spoke against your shoulder “what do you two want?!” Kayla giggled “uh the coffee machine isn’t working, we wanted to see if you two could fix it.. but clearly you’re busy.” You chucked “oh shut up Kay!” She playfully gasped “what?! I can’t help it if you two are getting frisky while we’re all awake still!” You playfully roll your eyes “you done now??” Kayla chuckles and nods “well let you get back to your… entertainment…” you flip off your sister “close the door in the way out!”

As she shuts the door, she calls out “make sure to lock it next time, dad didn’t put one on there for no reason…”

Once they left, Drew removed his head from the crook of your neck. He looked down at you “um…” you chuckles softly. Carding your fingers through his hair. “Turned off, huh?” He nodded. Not wanting to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to you. You knew exactly what to do. You grabbed both his wrists and gently tug him closer to you.

You whispered “want me to ride you? I’ll let you kiss my chest when I do it?? How’d that sound?” He moaned softly. “I’ll take that as a yes?” He nodded and gently pulled out before flipping you both over.

Letting you straddle him as he leaned back against the headboard. He placed his hands in your hips, just wanting to touch you. You slowly started to rock your hips. You leaned forward, letting his mouth attach to your chest. Moving from the left side to the right. He worked away as you rocked your hips. Slowly picking up the pace. You moaned his name. He groaned and started to rock up into you.

When you felt that similar feeling in your lower stomach, once again. You felt his hands move under your thighs. Holding you up so he could fastly rock up into you. Both of you moaning together. You gasp “Drew! Gonna!” He replied “right there with ya…. Fuck baby, cum on me, sweetheart… so fuckin good” You held onto his shoulders. Finishing down his cock, he groaned as his pace slowed down. He soon came a second or two after you. His hips stutter as he finished too. He moans your name as he does.

He then puts you back down on his lap. He tucked some hair behind your ear. He placed his hand in the back of your neck. Pulling you in for a few soft kisses. Then pulling away and resting your forehead to his. He mumbles “forgot about the lock, haven’t done it in here for a while, huh?” You chuckle. Agreeing with him. Last time was when you were both seventeen. Both of you wanted to be each other’s firsts, thinking it was better to be close to someone when you both do it for the first time. Which can come off as cute. Even if you didn’t date till a few years ago. He presses a few more kisses to your lips and forehead before starting up a bath for you both. Which was then followed by some movies and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

𐬺ꨄ𐬺

[wonderjanga]

Biblical Marvel

This is connected to the Revival post. If you don’t want to go find that, let me give a quick summary of it. In that post, Mary and Freddy die a lot in their Marvel forms. As a result of this, Billy has to revive them a lot. It honestly stresses the poor boy out too because at the end of the Revival post, Billy finds some grey hairs. So, yeah.

Anyways, so people think Marvel is god sent in human form to protect them. (Let me also connect this to the Billy is Really Old post too. In that post, Billy has been a hero since 1940.) It explains why he hasn’t aged over the almost 80 years of him being a hero. Not only that but once, a homeless person asked him to turn water to wine, and he did, though that’s more a of Jesus thing.

Speaking of Jesus, some people think Mary and Junior are Jesus split in two. I mean, Mary has blue eyes (from C.C.) and brown hair (From Marilyn) for Christ’s sake. Not only that but her name is Mary. Maybe Jesus/Mary is honoring his/her mother. And as for Junior, maybe Mary took the looks and he took the gender?

Marvel: *sorting through letters and replying to a bunch of fan mail while sitting at a table in the kitchen.*

Wonder Woman: *Sitting next to him, eating ice cream*

Flash: *zips over and is now leaning on Marvel’s shoulder looking at the fan mail* “Dude, is that fan mail?”

Marvel: “Yup.” *finishes replying to a letter and putting it in the ‘done’ pile*

Flash: “How do even get fan mail? Do they know your address or something?”

Marvel: “Whiz Kid.” *picks up a super fancy looking letter*

WW: “Pardon?”

Marvel: “Whiz Kid. He gets them, and then he gives them to me.” *opens fancy letter*

Flash: “Wait, that little dude who does the radio show?”

Marvel: *Doesn’t like being called little but thinks it would be weird for him to defend himself while in Marvel form* “…Yeah… That ‘little’ dude.” *Takes out letter and reads it before sighing*

WW: “What’s wrong?”

Marvel: “The pope asked me to dinner again.” *sighs again and puts letter down on table to slouch and spin in his chair like a depressed little kid* “Now I gotta think of another excuse.”

WW: “The pope? As in the Catholic pope?” *eats bite of ice cream*

Flash: *looks to WW* “You know who the pope is?”

WW: *looks to Flash* “Yes? Flash, I may be from Themyscira, but I’m not completely ignorant of man’s world.” *looks to Billy* “If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want to go?”

Marvel: *shrugs as he slows his spinning to a stop, having came up with an excuse. Picks up letter and starts replying* “I don’t know. Do you want to have dinner with a guy you’ve never met?”

WW: “I see. I suppose not.” *goes back to eating ice cream*

or

Mary: *Watching a show on a TV in Mount Justice*

Robin!Tim: “Mary? Could you help me with something?”

Mary: *pauses show* “Huh? Yeah sure.” *flies over to Tim* “What’s the problem?”

Robin!Tim: *sitting at the kitchen at the counter with a laptop* “Can you tell me everything you know about angels? I’m writing a paper about it for school.”

Mary: “Oh. Uh, sure?” *Proceeds to talk Tim’s ear off for the next 15 minutes about angels and their different types and personalities and such*

Robin!Tim: *finishes paper* “Thanks a lot.” *closes computer and hops off chair*

Mary: “No problem, but why’d you ask me specifically? Why not use the internet?”

Robin!Tim: “Aren’t you like the primary source?” *heads back to his room*

Mary: *confused*

or

*Captain Marvel flies down and asks to pet a woman’s dog when all of a sudden, a mother holding a child runs up to him*

Mother: “Please cure my child!” *holds child out to him* “You can perform one of your miracles, right? Please!”

Marvel: “What?” *looks between Mother and child.*

Child: *looks really sick*

Marvel: *gets concerned at the sick child* “You haven’t taken him to a hospital?”

Mother: “It’s too expensive! Please! Just this once.”

Marvel: “Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh…” ‘Solomon! Help me!’

Solomon: ‘Repeat after me, Billy’ *proceeds to rattle off healing spell*

Marvel: *repeats spell and heals child*

Mother: “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” *hugs child tight* “I’ve never been much of a religious nut, but now I’ll have to start believing more. Thank you so much!”

Marvel: *Little confused by sudden mention of religion* “Your welcome? Have a good day, miss.” *floats off the ground, giving her a little wave before flying off*

or

*Freddy is hanging outside one of a meeting rooms in the Watchtower because he wasn’t allowed in due to the face he looked like a kid. He’s now talking to someone on the phone.

Junior: *talking on a phone he magicked from God knows where while floating a foot or two off the ground*

Kid Flash: *bored out of his mind, leaning against a wall, standing next to him cause he also wasn’t allowed in for the same reason*

Junior: *ends call*

Kid Flash: “Who were ya talking too?”

Junior: “My friend, Cain.”

Kid Flash: “What, like bible Cain?” *was joking*

Junior: “Yup.” *didn’t realize he was joking*

Kid Flash: “What seriously? The Cain from the Bible? The Cain that stabbed his brother? The Cain that’s immortal because he stabbed his brother?”

Junior: “Yup.” *starts typing on phone, a little too nonchalant about the conversation*

Kid Flash: “And Cap just lets you be friends with him?”

Junior: “Uh yeah? Why wouldn’t he? You know he’s friends with him too, right?”

Kid Flash: “Wait really? Shouldn’t they hate each other or something?”

Junior: “No? Cain’s pretty chill.”

Kid Flash: *blinks a couple times at that* “Huh.” *he seems a little surprised*

*The meeting ends and the heroes file out of the meeting room before Kid Flash can ask another question*

[copperbadge]

This is my saga. (Transcript below images, behind the cut)

Transcript of a text message exchange between me and a few friends.

Me: My local Domino's sucked so bad last time they delivered to me that I stopped ordering from them like a year ago. Decided to get a pizza tonight and give them another chance…they no longer exist.

I then share a screengrab which states that my order was placed at 4:13pm today, but that Google's little preview window lists it as "Expected by January 9, 2024". This will be humorous later.

Me: Ordered from Little Caesars instead. They say my pizza will arrive sometime in the next four months. Also my delivery driver has been waiting to pick up my food for over 30 minutes. So they might not be wrong.

Friend K: Are you…cursed, Sam?

Me: Delivery driver bailed and was replaced with a new driver but when that happens the tracker doesn't understand what's going on, so now I'm watching my old delivery driver just drive off towards wrigleyville.

Friend K: NOOOOOO MY PIZZA

Me: As far as I know they still haven't made it. Nobody's picking up at the restaurant.

Friend C: You're gonna get a random pizza in four months.

Friend K: You'll be on your 734,845th driver by then.

Me: So the first driver was there for 30 minutes, got fed up, told the app the store was CLOSED, and left. Second driver heard the store was closed and didn't check, just left himself as the driver because he couldn't cancel an order at a closed restaurant. THIRD DRIVER has just arrived and confirmed the store is open but in the weeds. The pizza I ordered at 4:15 is arriving at 6pm, but I did get a refund because of the late delivery.

I then share a screengrab which shows the Doordash "tracker" map with a bold text header reading Your Order Was Cancelled. There is a large "top hat" emoji covering downtown Chicago so you all can't see my address in the app.

Me: …or this could happen.

Friend C: No pizza for u.

Me: I literally haven't ordered any food delivery in months because it just wasn't worth the hassle every time. This time I was like "maybe if I just chill it'll be fine." This is like the time I ordered Papa John's and they called me to break the tragic news that they were out of pepperoni.