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ja3yun · 27 days

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.8

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, fingering, rose toy, multiple orgasms, confrontation, ynhee's mum (she's a warning all in herself), anything else lmk! ch. 8 synopsis: the weekend of nationals is finally here and there's a buzz in the air but of course, nothing can run as smoothly as you plan. sunghoon lets you in on minhee and his private conversation, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place. wc: 13.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i cannot believe melting point ends NEXT WEEK like wdym :( this chapter really explains everything you need to know about the story and everything w the mum so this is an important one <3 thank you all so much for the love. as always i really value your feedback/comments/likes/reblogs. nothing makes me happier than reading your theories and comments, thank you so much! pls enjoy.

Heaving your case, you start to wonder if you packed too much for the weekend. It’s not like you meant to cram in 6 different outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and every piece of makeup you own - you just wanted to be extra prepared; that and you’re indecisive.

It’s finally Nationals weekend which means everything the boys have been working so hard for is here, only 2 days away. Technically, they should have been in Seoul already but you had a prelim exam today so they both waited for you to be finished before heading out.

The decision wasn’t your favourite, considering they’re missing parts of the press conferences and extra training but they assured you it was the easiest scapegoat out of travelling with the coaches and answering the usual ‘ideal type’ and ‘boyfriend’ questions that get thrown at them.

Considering they were top athletes, you would think the reporters would have more intelligent questions. Sunghoon had told you the last press event he did, the reporters just decided to try and ask him questions he knew would make him look arrogant and cocky with both women and on the ice.

It irks you how everyone has this preconceived perception about the man you love who would bend over backwards to make people happy. He says it doesn’t bother him and therefore it shouldn’t burden you but that's your man and he’s being slandered over news websites, it’s only right you get a little annoyed.

You can hear Sunghoon now as you think about it, telling you “at least I can back up my massive ego with a first place”, and he’s right, but it still doesn’t make you any more okay with it.

Presently, you’re walking down your campus path to the main road, on the way to meet both Minhee and Sunghoon. Somehow, you’ve managed to convince them to drive to the competition together. It took Minhee more convincing than Sunghoon, his biggest objection being you and your boyfriend all over one another.

There’s a mastermind plan to your reasoning; you want them to get along and forcing them in a close proximity for more than 3 hours seems like the best way to do it. Well, you’ve convinced yourself it’s the best way. Plus, you can try and pry out of them what they were talking about the other day in the coach’s office.

Looking ahead, you see Sunghoon and Minhee talking, or rather bickering about something.

This might be harder than you thought.

“You are NOT driving my baby, she doesn’t need your hands all over her,” you hear Sunghoon say, arms crossed in defence.

“Come on, man! It’s a 3-hour drive and you look tired. I’ll take the wheel and you go for a sleep in the back,” Minhee retorts, pleased with himself for his reasoning; yet, Sunghoon doesn’t budge, adamant that your brother will never get the driver’s seat.

It’s oddly refreshing to see them argue about something so trivial and not try to tear each other’s character down. They’re nipping at one another like friends do. You and Rina have had your fair share of minisode arguments about throwaway things like this so seeing them do the same makes you smile.

However, you will stop it, just in case Sunghoon gets too riled up - you know how he can get when it comes to his car. You spilled the tiniest bit of your blueberry juice on the seat and he nearly crashed into the traffic light. He’s very dramatic and overly protective.

“Mini, if you drive, I’ll just make out with Hoon in the back the whole drive there,” you laugh.

Your boys turn around at the sudden sound of your voice, both wearing different expressions. Sunghoon’s face upturns into brightness as he sees you, his arms come undone, and his body visibly relaxes. He looks as handsome as ever with his hair styled and smart-casual outfit; grey-collared sweater with black pressed trousers.

Minhee on the other hand is disgusted at the thought of you climbing all over your boyfriend for hours on end. He’s wearing some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket, it’s his typical choice but he suits it.

Taking your luggage, Sunghoon whispers a ‘hey’ into your lips as he kisses you tenderly. The display of affection only makes Minhee fake gag, “Suddenly, I don’t want to drive anymore,” your brother scoffs, yielding his earlier argument in trade for some peace from the love parade.

You let out a light laugh, moving from Sunghoon to hug Minhee, “You’ve made the right choice,” the airiness in your voice matches the contentment you feel as he hugs you, ruffling your hair in the process.

While Sunghoon puts your case in the boot, grunting about how heavy it is, you take the opportunity to warn Minhee, “Please be nice to him, okay? I want you both to get along.” It’s a simple request but the seriousness in your eyes conveys everything Minhee has to know.

"I'll tolerate him," he pinches your cheek and offers you an understanding smile when he notices your harsh expression, "Okay, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour." He enters the car with hands raised in faux defence.

You knew he'd behave even before you warned him, but you had to do it since the temptation to fall back into habit might be too strong for both of them. That is why Minhee isn't the only one whom you are warning.

As you walk up to Sunghoon, he closes the trunk with a soft thud, "Can you try getting along with Mini today? It'd mean a lot to me if you guys could at least give friendship a shot," you gently suggest.

"I'll do my best to make us leave here best buddies," Sunghoon replies with fake enthusiasm, "But baby, I gotta tell you, the drive here wasn't great. Did you know he sticks his foot up on the seat? Made things pretty uncomfortable for my girl," he says, giving the car's rear a pat, still bothered by Minhee's lack of respect for the second most important girl in his life.

Your brother wasn’t always the best at reading a situation and considering it’s the first time he was in Sunghoon’s car, he should have been a little more gracious. But he’s Minhee, that’s just how he is.

“Did you tell him not to do it?” you ask, looking through the back window to see the back of your brother’s head.

“Obviously, he just ignored me,” Sunghoon feigns a pain in his heart, “It was tragic.”

His dramatic act earns him an eye roll and no reaction, “I will tell him if he does it.”

With the promises sealed up with one more kiss, you both clamber into your respective seats, ready for the long journey ahead.

The roads are busier than normal, a traffic jam on the motorway is going to add an extra 25 minutes to your time. You don’t mind it, given you're not the one driving, but Sunghoon is getting impatient, the fingers on his left hand tapping on the wheel while his right hand subconsciously grips your thigh, using you like his personal stress ball.

Minhee couldn’t be more relaxed, his body has somehow managed to lounge himself over the back seat, phone in his hand as he plays house flipper.

“We should put on the radio or something, might make this go in faster,” you suggest, already reaching for the screen. None of them complain, too busy in their own worlds to notice. This car drive was supposed to bond them and so far the only conversation they have had was to text the coaches and let them know they would be late; hardly riveting.

The speakers quietly play the sound of Sza’s Kill Bill which has both of them bobbing their heads. Even just the addition of music has made the car feel less awkward.

You don’t want to force them to be friends but you also want to say you tried to meld them together in some capacity. These two men are the most precious people in your life and if they don’t get along, your plan to hang out together will be foiled. Even worse, your secret scheme to have Sunghoon over for Christmas dinner would also be ruined. Christmas is already tense enough never mind adding in two people who can’t even speak to one another.

The next song that plays makes Minhee sit up sharply and you whip your head around to look at him.

Maybe it's the way she walked

Singing the song at each other, you and your brother showcase your sibling brain cells by belting out your joined karaoke song. It was unintentional and you don’t remember specifically how it happened, but one day One Direction’s Best Song Ever became the song you would sing together at every function, both of you staying up late to learn the dance and all the dialogue lines. Minhee swore blindly that he would make a better Liam/Leroy than you but you proved him wrong pretty quickly.

The abrupt change in atmosphere jolts Sunghoon to look at you both wildly while you both sing loudly. He does note how Minhee can actually sing and you, well, you’ve got spirit. The smile on his face gradually gets bigger, the happiness between the siblings infecting him.

And we danced all night to the best song ever

We knew every line, now I can't remember

He hasn’t seen you get this excited in a while, the pressure of keeping too many secrets from too many people had a weighted effect on you, yet, now that’s gone, you look as light as a feather, enjoying your life free of guilt and shame, a life where you have Minhee by your side and him on the other.

If it’s the last thing he does, he will make sure to become friends with Minhee by the end of the weekend.

The makeshift choreo you and Minhee created for the verses comes back easily, both your arms flapping around the place, hairography and all the rest of it. The laughter filtering through Minhee’s singing makes you feel like you’re finally home.

Minhee extends a metaphorical microphone to Sunghoon, attempting to draw him into your shared joy. It's not a conscious effort, but rather a natural inclination to include him in this moment, making him feel like a part of the Kang family, even if just for a song. There was also a tiny bit of him hoping Sunghoon had the worst voice out of the three of you, giving him something to slag him about.

“Nope, sorry, I don’t sing,” Sunghoon protests, moving his focus to the ever-so-slowly moving traffic.

“Come on, Hoonie, you know the words! You already told me you were a Louis girl,” you chuckle, also holding out your pretend microphone to join Minhee.

With the Kang siblings eagerly awaiting his participation, Sunghoon relents, quietly joining in the singing. His voice isn’t loud, he’s cautiously singing the song with you and Minhee, letting you both take the lead on it. He appreciates the effort Minhee made to involve him but this is also clearly you and Minhee’s joint thing, he doesn’t want to intervene too much.

However, that’s not sitting with any of you, “Sunghoon put some chutzpah into it!” Minhee encourages.

Minhee is trying his best, the once subconscious act is now intended, he wants you to know he’s trying to get along with your boyfriend despite their past. You deserve that much.

There’s a glimmer of amusement in Sunghoon’s eyes as he gets sucked into the infectious energy of the moment and becomes more vocal. What neither you nor Minhee expects is for Sunghoon’s voice to be as good as it was. You had heard him sing maybe once in the shower but you weren’t paying attention, not like now. Now he has your full attention, leaving him and your brother to harmonise together.

As Niall's part comes on, Minhee playfully nudges your arm, signalling your turn to sing, a cue you eagerly follow. At that moment, the confines of the car seem to expand, enveloping you all in a bubble of pure bliss and laughter. It's something you want to etch into your memory, a snapshot of unfiltered happiness that you'll treasure forever.

The final lines of the song resonate through the air, and a sense of contentment settles over you all, transforming the cold winter morning outside into something warm and inviting, much like a spring day.

Minhee reaches over and pats Sunghoon on the shoulder, offering him a genuine compliment. "You've got a set of pipes on you, mate," he remarks, devoid of any tension, prompting a surprised look from you.

“Thanks, you’re not that bad of a singer either,” your boyfriend relays.

“Nah, it’s just singing next to her I sound like Adele or something,” Minhee pokes fun at you like always, clearly amusing Sunghoon because he just laughs and nods along. Honestly, if making some lighthearted jokes about your singing is the thing that makes them friends, you’ll allow it.

The rest of the car journey is now filled with chatter, mostly you and Minhee reminiscing about your upbringing, telling Sunghoon all the stories that embarrass one another while he drives you closer to the city.

Sunghoon enjoys the way you two interact, it shows him why you were so determined not to hurt Minhee for all those months, putting aside your own happiness for him. Whenever competitions happened, he got to see you and Minhee’s relationship from the sidelines and that made him a little envious.

Ice skating has always been so lonely for him with no time to make friends with fellow skaters because his mum would be pulling him away to go home or keep him on the ice while everyone else went to get a sweet treat after training. His mum made him so lonely that she was the only one he could rely on.

That was until now. Jay and Jake were always there for him but it’s harder for them to understand since they aren’t in the sport directly, whereas you and Minhee both have grown up in the same gruelling surroundings as him.

Sunghoon’s jealousy grew the more he saw Minhee, the loving sister, the nice coach, even a little less toxic of a mother, granted his opinions of her have wildly changed now that he knows everything. But even with that, Minhee seemed to have it all - he had everything Sunghoon wanted.

He would trade in every trophy for a little stability, for his dad to still be alive, to have someone devoted to him no matter what. That’s why when he saw you all those years ago, he knew you had to be in his life.

The hatred he had towards your brother stemmed from his mother’s toxic whispers planting little nuggets of rumours and lies to make him hate Minhee, yet, as he looks at both of you now, he knows it wasn’t hatred, it was envy. And when Minhee said he couldn’t ask you out when he was a teenager, it fuelled anger in him for hogging you.

Your love and kindness shouldn’t be confined to your brother.

But like you said the other day, Minhee was scared to lose you and Sunghoon understood that feeling all too well now.

Enclosing your hand in his, Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours, longing for contact after his brain even thought about you not being with him, even for a second.

You twist your neck to look at Sunghoon, fondly smiling at him. Watching his eyes shake, you know he’s thinking about something that requires your touch; he always did this, no matter the issue big or small, like having you there was enough for him to brush through the knots in his brain and sort it out.

It felt so amazing to be so needed and loved like this.

Minhee interrupts the silent show of love and points out the windshield, “Looks like they know we’re coming,” he sighs as reporters hover outside the hotel entrance, cameras hanging at their sides while they chat about nothing.

Sunghoon and Minhee are used to this but today is the day they’ll make a spectacle over them. For the first time in history, the two rivals are arriving together and not just that, they’re both a day late. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to sniff around and fabricate some sort of story, you’re just scared of what.

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the reports poise their camera to get the money shot, they don’t know they’re in for a goldmine,

“Remember, head down, no comments, and just get in there,” Sunghoon instructs, earning a scoff from your brother.

“Nah, you can do that, I’m the pleasant prince, I pander to my audience,” Minhee smiles proudly.

This is where they differ in so many ways, how their brands set them apart. You have to say, you’re surprised Minhee is keeping the Princess Diana brand your mum created considering he hates it so much. Then again, it has created more opportunities for him regarding public events and ads.

Your mum was a witch but she knew what she was doing.

It does pose the big question: where is Mum? Is she already here? There has been zero communication between both of you since the phone audio incident, it was sickening to look at her for too long, not that she was home a lot of the time anyway.

However, right now isn’t about her.

“I think Sunghoon might be right, Mini. They’ll hound you about why you and Hoonie are together,” you put forward, hoping he sees your point. But Minhee is Minhee, he loves being in the spotlight.

“It’s all good, Bubs. I got this,” Minhee pats your head, trying to bounce some reassurance into your brain.

Sunghoon is quick to jump in, “No. Minhee, you keep Y/N safe. There’s no way they won’t push and shove for a picture and if one of them touches her I swear to god, Minhee, it’ll be your head on the hotel pole,” his voice is strong and shoulders are wide and sturdy as he speaks.

You suppress the urge to bite your lip as Sunghoon talks, trying not to give away how much his protectiveness turns you on, although, as much as you’re trying to focus your face on staying neutral, your pussy is meowing out for him, the pants you're wearing sticking to you a little.

“Don’t tell me how to protect my sister, okay, I’ve been with her my whole life, you’ve only got a couple of months under your belt,” Minhee retorts, tone annoyed at the accusation that he would do anything other than put your safety first.

If there was one thing that would make them argue, it’s over you.

“Guys, let's just focus on getting into the lobby, okay? No pandering, and no punching,” you point to them for their retrospective warnings. You seem to be intimidating enough because they fall back from their tense gazes and start to unbuckle their seatbelts.

When you step out, the cameras click rapidly, a few flashes getting in your eyes which Minhee’s hand reaches over to protect you from, one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other covering your eyes. The shutters are more intense once they see Sunghoon coming around from the other side of the car.

A few gasps and ‘whoas’ can be heard as your boyfriend catches up to you both. As soon as that happens, all hell breaks loose.

Sunghoon! Are you finally changing your ways?

Minhee, did you steer Sunghoon away from his reckless life?

I’d watch out, Minhee, Sunghoon might be after your little sister next.

The last one creates tension between the boys on either side of you, as soon as you’re mentioned they both want to physically leap over and slap the journalist silly. You don’t like the inclination either, the idea that Sunghoon would just use you for his own gratification.

Did the reporter say it outright like that? No, but all three of you knew that’s what he meant.

Minhee gracefully bows and smiles as he leads you through the reporters, thanking the ones who respected your need for space.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, remains cold, his look as frosty as usual, displaying little tolerance for the paparazzi's intrusive behaviour. Despite his apparent displeasure, he followed his own advice: keep a low profile and push ahead.

Once the chaos subsides, Minhee gently withdraws from your side, placing a comforting hand between your shoulder blades as he guides you further into the foyer. The interior wasn’t anything fancy; adorned with beige walls, plush couches occupied by guests, and a reception desk manned by two staff.

“Are you alright?” Minhee’s concern was palpable as he peered into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or vision loss. The flashes were extra bright today.

You shake your head, offering reassurance, “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad, certainly could have been worse.”

The hotel staff promptly retrieves your luggage from the car, each of your party expressing gratitude. Minhee also hands them a tip, slipping in a signature wink as he did so.

Sunghoon huffs beside you, stroking the back of your head, “Fucking ridiculous. They’re acting like they haven’t seen us before,” he states, the patting of your head getting rougher the more he thinks about it, “Heard one of them call us Blades of Glory.”

Minhee lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hands in amusement. The other boy didn’t find anything funny about the situation.

The receptionist checks you all in, a room for you and Minhee, and a room for Sunghoon. He had a double room to himself since his mum wasn’t coming.

One thing Sunghoon refuses to speak about is his relationship with his mum, as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t spoken since the argument a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes when you look at your boyfriend when he is training, you wish he had her there. He assures you it’s for the best but you do mourn it a little, hoping they could patch up their relationship and start anew with him as her son, and her as his mother; no manager roles and athlete, just family love.

Sunghoon isn’t so sympathetic to the situation. Sure, he misses having her around but that’s just because it’s a habit, plus, she was his manager and having to navigate everything on his own was becoming overwhelming, but he’ll manage.

Sadly, he doesn’t even miss her as a mother figure.

Luckily, you’re all on the same floor just 4 doors apart. Once you reach your respective rooms, you kiss Sunghoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His hands run up your back, accidentally picking up your jacket and t-shirt in the process, the feeling of his fingertips leaving a warm trail in their absence.

Sunghoon smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you. He could do this all day, and some days he has, but this time you have your brother impatiently waiting for you both to untangle yourselves.

“Enough, that’s disgusting,” he retches, fake poking a finger down his throat, “Are you guys always like this or is it your attempt at torturing me?”

Pecking Sunghoon’s lips one more time, you plant your feet back on the ground and face Minhee, “You’re so dramatic. I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want to,” you sarkily reply.

“Not in front of me you can’t,” he mumbles, face holding an expression of disdain for you and your boyfriend's PDA. He doesn’t protest further, instead unlocking your room and waiting for you to get inside.

Hugging you from the back, Sunghoon leans down, “Come to my room tonight? And the night after, and the night after,” between each request, he kisses your neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

The butterflies in your tummy never settle when he’s around and the love in your heart only gets stronger, “I’ll pop in tonight but I promised Minhee I would spend the night before Nationals with him, it’s kind of a thing we have.”

Before every big competition, you and your brother pick a TV show, grab a few face masks and play smash or pass with the cast. You came up with it randomly one night and it stuck ever since, helping him to relax and you to eye up whatever Song Kang drama you manage to persuade him to watch with you.

Nodding, Sunghoon smiles, spinning you to face him, “Sure, makes sense you guys would have a ritual or whatever,” there’s a tiny hint of sadness in his voice which throws you a little.

“I can ask Minhee to swap it to tonight?” you propose but Sunghoon shakes his head quickly.

“No, no. Do your sibling stuff-”

“You’re welcome to come,” Minhee’s voice interjects behind you. It’s strange how quickly Minhee is accepting Sunghoon into your routines and quirks; first it was the song in the car and now this, “You don’t have to but it would suck for you to be on your own the night before a competition.”

You want to ask what happened to your brother and why a clone has taken over his body, but this is exactly what you wanted, so why fight it?

“I don’t know, seems like your thing, I don’t want to just jump into it,” Sunghoon scratches the back of his hand, a habit he has when he’s nervous. In this instance, it’s cute.

“If I’m inviting you, it’s not you ‘jumping in’ is it? Plus, you get to see your precious girl drool over other men right in front of you,” you nudge your brother's stomach with your elbow before explaining to Sunghoon your plans and that you absolutely do NOT fawn over other men.

Everyone knows it’s a lie.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Minhee,” Sunghoon is genuinely appreciative of the offer. He’s never had anyone to do things like this with, usually opting to just rest up and force himself to sleep early.

Minhee nods, “Great, just don’t be all kissy and touchy, it’s gross.”

A ping hits Minhee’s phone and as he reads the message, his once relaxed face turns tense, “It’s mum. Wants to take us out for dinner after the press conference,” he doesn’t bother replying, locking his mobile and stuffing it back in his jean pocket.

You don’t want to go to dinner with her, or even see her. Truthfully, you hoped she just wouldn’t turn up, “Do we have to go?”

The pout on your face is exaggerated, your eyes pleading with Minhee to say fuck it and not go, however, he doesn’t give in to you, “I suppose.”

Looking at Sunghoon, they do that stare again, the same one when they came out from their secret conversation at Belmore. They nod to one another, making you even more confused.

Before you can pipe up and ask, Sunghoon gives you one more kiss, “I’ll see you later, baby,” and with that, he retreats to his hotel room. Your boyfriend was probably your best chance at getting information, Minhee is too strong and wouldn’t slip up as easily, so you leave it to rest, hoping that it’s nothing too serious.

One thing is for certain, you know it’s about your mum.

_____

“Can we steal the soap?” Minhee pops his head around the bathroom door, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You and Minhee are resting up after the press conference. All in all, the reporters asked straightforward enough questions, intrigued by Minhee's secret routine and the promised 'surprise' he hinted at. Of course, you've witnessed the routine firsthand and are eagerly anticipating everyone else to experience it with the same amount of awe as you did.

To your surprise, there were just two questions concerning Sunghoon: one asked whether Minhee and Sunghoon were now friends, and the other asked if Minhee was afraid of his rival. Minhee's reaction to both was a solid 'no', however you think the first answer might change.

You sit up on your bed, rolling your eyes in dismissal of your brother’s question, “No, Mini, we can’t steal the soap.” The one thing about Minhee was that he loved a freebee, and you too honestly but you draw the line on bath soaps that you know no one will use and just collect dust in your toilet back home.

“But if I put it in my case and hide these ones, the staff will need to give us replacements,” he says, showing you the tiny bottle of liquid soap as a way to entice you to agree with him.

"Let me guess, then you'll swipe those too?" you retort, crossing your arms.

Minhee nods eagerly. "Of course!" he says it with such conviction, as if you're missing out on a golden opportunity for more soap.

As you get up, you snatch the bottle from his hand and head to return it to its rightful spot. "I'll just buy you some soap, alright? Let's leave these here. If there's any left, we'll take it home." Sometimes, you feel like you take over the role of your mother when you have these talks with Minhee.

"Fine," he grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. "I'll just ask Sunghoon to swipe me some then."

You whip around at the mention of your boyfriend's name, watching as Minhee starts tapping away on his phone. It's like entering the twilight zone.

"You guys text now?" you ask incredulously, eyebrows raised

“Only for important things,” he mumbles, too busy planning a scheme to get Sunghoon on board with his ideas.

You try to imagine in what world hotel soap is important.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that your brother and boyfriend were actually getting along, and not just that, that most of the initiation was from Minhee, you would have cackled in your face. There was no chance in hell of that happening, yet, there is it. All those months of worrying about both of them, the arguments, the fighting, the hatred, all washed away so quickly.

Sunghoon and Minhee aren’t best friends, they tolerate one another; that’s what they are telling themselves at least. Your brother asked for Sunghoon’s number after the conference to ‘keep an eye on him’ but you knew better than that.

Minhee wanted to be his friend because he knew if he did, you would be happy. Everything in his life, he does for you.

A ping sounds from his phone, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Ha! See, your boy is on board!” he shows you the text message from Sunghoon which reads ‘If you get the soap, I’ll grab the shampoo and conditioner. We go halfsies?’

“You’re both ridiculous,” you quip, pushing Minhee’s phone away from you.

You can’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you watch Minhee laugh at his phone, the friendship between them both blossoming in front of your very eyes.

A loud knock on the door startles you both, your hand reaching for your chest at the fright. Was it really necessary for someone to bang the door so ferociously at 5pm, especially when the hotel rooms are already small, echoing the vibrations around the walls?

Minhee stands up, making his way to answer rudely to the person on the other side for almost giving him a heart attack; however, when he opens the door, the last person on earth you want to see barges through your door.

“Ugh, can you believe they’ve put me in a room on the other side of the hotel away from you? Took me 10 minutes just to get here,” your mum huffs, blowing her fringe out of her flushed face. She looks like she’s just run the London Marathon, not walked across a lobby and rode the lift.

It’s amazing how one woman can change the atmosphere of the room. The once happy and carefree vibe you and Minhee were basking in has now been sucked out, replaced with a heavy cloud of anguish.

There’s an anxiety creeping up into your chest as you face your mum for the first time since that day. You were unequipped to handle the situation because of her sudden presence, thinking you would at least have a few hours before she requested you for dinner.

But she’s here, right now, and you have to face this head-on.

She clasps her hands together and spins to face Minhee and yourself, “I have news,” she exclaims, delighted with whatever information she is about to share.

A quick glance at Minhee and you both share the same sceptical expression. He steps closer to you, hoping that you can find some comfort in his presence, which you do but this is also your conniving mother you’re both faced with, anything can fall past her lips, and that makes this ten times more nerve wracking.

“After Sunghoon pulled that god-awful scheme - so sorry, Y/N,” her words speak of condolences yet her tone is anything but sympathetic, “I have found something else.” The delight on her face makes you feel sick. You know Mrs. Park is the biggest cause for this rivalry, so why is she so intent on bringing Sunghoon down to the lowest pits of hell and back?

You nor Minhee have told your mum that you know the audio of Sunghoon was AI-generated, or that you and Sunghoon are back to being as in love with each other as ever, in fact, she might have brought you closer together. Her little plan actually got you and Sunghoon to promise to be one hundred percent honest with each other, especially about your feelings for one another.

Sunghoon meant it when he said he wanted to start fresh, a clean slate, but for him that just meant professing his love to you all over again, determined to make sure you never doubted his true intentions for you ever again. Of course, you did the same, telling him how you would trust him and your relationship before anything else because why on earth do you have any reason not to?

“What are you talking about?” Minhee is the first to speak between you, taking the lead as your bigger brother. He didn’t know what she had up her sleeve but he wouldn’t believe a spoken syllable that came from her mouth; not anymore.

Happily, your mother picks out her phone from her handbag and searches for something. There is a sickening feeling rising in your stomach again, the deja vu washing over you. Minhee senses your unease and rubs your back softly, and as you turn your attention to him, he shakes his head, assuring you that whatever you are going to see will be fabricated.

However, as she passes your brother the phone, you see a video waiting to load and see a familiar-looking lawn.

Oh no.

As Minhee hits play, you see Sunghoon’s fist connect with that boy's face, the same boy that touched you, the night you called him to come get you. The sickness that had stilled before has now reached the tip of your throat, your heart pounding outside your chest only making it boil more.

This is real, this isn’t fake.

The scene in the video is so strange because as you hear your cries for him to stop, you don’t remember it that well. You knew he punched fuck out of the guy but you hadn’t really visually recalled it in your memory, yet, it was like living the feeling all over again.

Your brother watches the video with the same shock and horror as you do, except, he is more concerned by your shrieks in the background. When was this? He ponders to himself, confused as he continues to see Sunghoon beat the boy down. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Sunghoon killed him. Fuck, he genuinely might have as far as Minhee is concerned.

He recognises the boy in the video, having had a few altercations with Yeonjun and his team himself over the years, so he knows that whatever caused this ruthless beating, it was probably something bad.

“W-where did you get this?” you ask tentatively. If your mother has seen it, anyone could have.

With a glint of victory, she answers, “Facebook of all places! I was just scrolling and someone shared it,” she shrugs, leaving you to battle with the information that your boyfriend's attempt to protect you might be the very cause of his downfall. You recall something he said not too long ago,

“Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.”

Sunghoon spoke those words and you knew they were true, yet, you hoped it excluded you, but this just proves you’re just as bad as your mother.

Minhee feels your distress beside him, your body shaking slightly as you continue to watch the video. He doesn’t know what happened or why but he knows you’re traumatised by it. He stops the video, locking the phone abruptly, “Mum, what does this have to do with anything? This is just a video of him punching that guy from the hockey team,” Minhee tries to downplay it, hoping and praying your mum hasn’t already done something drastic with the video.

“I’m taking it to the board, obviously. He can’t get away with causing violence,” your mum speaks. You take the time in the silence that surrounds the room to wonder if she would be so eager to share the video if she knew why Sunghoon was on his knees, beating the guy to a pulp.

Minhee shakes his head definitely, “No, mum, you’re not,” his voice wavers; this is the first time he has stood up to your mum in such a long time. Her claws were usually so deep into your brother that he stood back and took it, but not any more.

“Huh?” your mum asks perplexed, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “Don’t you see, Minhee, this is how we guarantee you the win, they might let him skate but nullify his points. Remember what we have on the line,” she tries to be secretive but you already know what she’s talking about.

“Stop! Just stop trying to interfere with this, with my skating, with the Parks. Just fucking stop.” The sudden rise in Minhee’s voice makes you jump but he is quick to rub your back again, trying to prove his determination to make this right, for all the times he let her puppeteer him into doing her dirt work.

He breathes out, “I told Y/N everything, and I told Sunghoon. We also know that the phone call was fake and that you’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother,” his voice is venomous, the words harshly leaving his mouth.

Your mum is silent, not even her breath can be heard amidst Minhee’s speech, “You’ve done nothing but hurt us since dad left, constantly blaming me for putting you in debt, never acknowledging your daughter or any of her achievements. I won’t stand here and let you do this anymore.”

“But Minhee-”

“No, you listen to me. I will win on Saturday and when I do, take all the money you get from this shitty bet and fuck off out of our lives, understood?” You stare at the ground with wide eyes, scared to look up and see the anger in Minhee’s face, his voice being scary enough.

It’s unlike your brother to get this angry, you thought the extent of his rage peaked when he confronted you about your relationship with Sunghoon. But this is much worse, more dangerous.

Then again, this is also years of being told you owe your career and livelihood to someone who only uses it against you would also take its toll on you.

Sucking in a breath, your mum moves forward, “What are you talking about, baby boy. I’m your mother,” she tries to soften him up but it won’t work. He’s too far gone in his rage.

“No, you’re not. From this point on, you’re no one’s mum. When you get your winnings, take them and never speak to me or Y/N again. I am sick to the back teeth of you putting unnecessary pressure on me, getting me involved in all this mess with Sunghoon. Not to mention how you’ve been treating Y/N the past few months.”

“You can’t kick me out of my own family!” she protests, all acts of sorrow gone in a flash, replaced with fury.

“I just have. I’m moving out, I’m taking Y/N with me, and this is the last you will see us,” Minhee’s chest is closing in on itself as he finally loses all cool, ready to give your mum everything that’s been waiting for her.

Exhaling, your mum yields, nodding disapprovingly, “You make sure I get my money. You brats deserve nothing considering the life I provided for you both.”

That last sentence confirmed everything you two already knew, it was always about the money. Part of you wonders if it was always about the money, or if that was just something at came along the way. For your peace of mind, you hope it’s the latter.

Despite her ways, you like to believe she did love you guys at some point, and deep down still does.

The tension in the room is so thick, it’s choking you, causing you to clam up and stay silent. You want to say so much; how she never gave you both anything, that it was your dad who set you both up with your lives, how she took away your happiness and put the relationship with the love of your life in jeopardy. You wanted to shout and scream at her, but it was useless. She won’t listen, her face beat red.

Without uttering another word, she goes to leave the room, snatching her phone back, but Minhee isn’t done, “Oh, and don’t think for a second of showing that video to any of the skating board, or else I’ll turn myself in about Sunghoon’s skate and tell the police exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Both you and your mother exchange fearful glances – you, worried for Minhee's cherished career, and your mother, concerned about her potential loss of status and wealth.

Clicking her tongue in irritation, your mother scoffs, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t dare," she argues, trying to convince herself as much as her son.

"Try me. I have nothing left to lose," he retorts.

"You wouldn’t sacrifice your Olympic dreams," she counters smugly, believing she's won the argument.

"I would sacrifice anything for my sister's happiness, a concept you clearly can't grasp."

Your eyes fill with emotion as Minhee's words sink in. Could he really be prepared to give up his dream just to protect you from your mother? To safeguard you from any potential harm. As you lock eyes with your brother, a deep realisation sweeps over you: absolutely, he would.

Your mother walks out of the room in a disappointed huff, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere packed with unresolved tension. Left alone with Minhee, you both silently battle with the weight of the dramatic event that just took place, processing it all in your own way.

As the echoes of your mother's departure fade, a solemn stillness settles over the room, punctuated only by the sound of your shared breaths. You and Minhee exchange a wordless glance, each grappling with the weight of the confrontation that has unfolded.

“The video…you were there. What the fuck was that about?” Minhee questions, his voice not quite accusatory, but still webbed in anger. Honestly, you should have expected it, the bloody scene would be a cause of concern to anyone and after he just said he vowed to protect you, he wanted to know how this situation arose.

"It was a party, about three or four months ago, I think," you begin, weighing your words carefully as you try to gauge how much to reveal to Minhee. Your brother is already teetering on the edge of adrenaline-fueled rage, and recounting the details of Heosun's unwelcome advances towards you doesn't seem like the best idea in the current tense atmosphere.

Minhee listens attentively, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Go on," he prompts gently, sensing the weight of your hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, "There was this guy who wouldn't leave me alone, and Sunghoon came to pick me up, and well, you saw what happened." You lower your gaze, feeling a pang of shame at the memory of the chaos that ensued that night.

Now, with your mother's hands all over the incriminating video, you feel the weight of the burden resting heavily on your shoulders. If she were to show anyone that footage, it could spell the end of Sunghoon's career – all because of the consequences of your past decisions.

Despite Sunghoon's reassurances that none of it was your fault, the guilt gnaws at you relentlessly. It's one thing to hear those words, but it's another to truly believe them, especially in the face of such dire consequences.

Minhee can feel your body tremble and it softens his mood, his brotherly instincts taking charge over his anger. He pulls you in for a hug, scratching the back of your head to soothe your thoughts.

“I would say I’d kill that hockey player if I wasn’t convinced Sunghoon’s already taken care of it,” he chuckles at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your overthinking is taking hold of you, scared for what will happen.

Knowing you your whole life, Minhee knows what your brain is doing right now, “Hey, you aren’t to blame for any of this. Heosun is the one to blame for trying to take advantage of you,” his fingers dig into your scalp as he says the crime out loud. He can’t stand that he wasn’t there for you during your time of need.

However, he is thankful Sunghoon was there.

He leans back to look at you, your eyes glazed over with thoughts. Patting your head, he tries to reason with your mind, “You can’t let mum’s manipulation make you feel responsible for all of this. Sunghoon is a grown man and he made his choices,” he sees his words infiltrating your doubt, like a soldier breaking down the gate to the castle, “He did what anyone would have done.”

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his support even as the guilt continues to run through you, "I know, but... what if I could have handled things differently?" you mumble, the weight of self-blame heavy in your voice.

Minhee shakes his head, his eyes filled with conviction, “Don’t do that, Bubs. You did everything you could, I believe that.”

His words provide a glimmer of consolation amidst the disarray of your thoughts. For a minute, you allow yourself to lean into his calming presence, drawing strength from your brother's support.

You both sit in silence for a while, needing to calm down from your emotions. The whole ordeal has led you away from a pivotal point in his conversation with your mum, something that you wanted to question.

“What if you don’t win?” you pull your head from his chest, looking up at him concerned. If he doesn’t win, there’s no knowing what your mum might do. She would lose far too much money just to let it slide, not to mention the vendetta she probably has against Minhee after his harsh words.

Calmly, he smiles, “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” With a kiss on the top of your head, he releases you from his grip. It’s a clear indication that he doesn’t want to push this conversation any further.

But you can’t help but be concerned.

_____

Pressing your key card to the door, you walk in and instantly hear laughter coming from Minhee and Sunghoon. The sound fills you with a sense of relief, worried that your absence from the hotel room to grab some snacks from the shop down the street was enough time for them to start arguing and throwing punches.

You really should have had more faith in them, particularly after the car journey, yet, you still have a horrible feeling that settles inside your chest because it’s all going too perfectly.

Minhee is doubled over, face red from laughter while Sunghoon’s eyes are wide, an incredulous smile smacked across his features. It’s amazing how well they shine together when they don’t have their mothers putting the weight on their shoulders, forcing them into unhealthy competition.

“She padded it so much to impress you, it was hilarious!” you hear Minhee cackle as he speaks as you shut the door behind you. They haven’t noticed your presence, too caught up in the hilarity of their conversation.

Sunghoon lets out a ‘huh’ in realisation, “That’s what that was? I was so confused, I thought she had a reaction to something,” he chuckles, still processing whatever information Minhee was divulging.

The atmosphere is light, making you smile widely as you walk further into the hotel room, “What are you guys talking about?”

Turning to face you, both boys burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they see you. It makes you self-conscious, suddenly making you wish you checked yourself in the lift mirror before coming back.

Minhee wipes a tear from his eye before letting you in on their little secret, “I told him how you stuffed your bra with tissue paper trying to impress him,” he points his head to Sunghoon who is currently rolling on the bed in stitches.

The memory flashes in your mind as your face falls. You were young, foolish, and watched 13 going on 30 a little too much; it was a stupid idea. In your defence, a rumour was circulating that Sunghoon’s ideal type was someone like Irene from Red Velvet and she was so perfect you tried to look like her, stuffed bra and all.

You stand traumatised for a minute as you start to vividly recall the way your tissue boobs must have looked to everyone else, “Oh my…god! Can you guys shut up, I was like 12,” you groan hiding your face behind the bags of starburst and skittles.

“You didn’t even need a bra,” Minhee argues back, clearly enjoying the torment his story is providing you, “It’s my brotherly duty to tell your boyfriend all the embarrassing stories I have about you,” he’s smug, lips upturned in a grin.

Forcefully, you toss his sweets at his head, aiming for pain. But Minhee has fast reflexes and dodges it easily. Out of all the stories to tell, why did it have to be that one? Couldn’t it have been the one where you accidentally vomited all over him after he punched you too hard in the chest or that time you wrote a marriage proposal to Niall Horan and even set a date. Anything but the padded bra.

Sunghoon is still laughing, also reminiscing about that day, however, he isn’t so embarrassed. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention, and he certainly didn’t know it was to impress him. Knowing it now only gives him more reason to be completely in love with you because even at 12, you wanted to be with him so much you were willing to change for him.

But he never wants you to change. Not ever.

“I honestly can’t believe you thought that would impress me,” he starts to calm down, beaming up at you; however, he is just as guilty for laughing, so you throw the last packet of sweets at his head. He isn’t so used to avoiding flying objects and you hit him straight on his nose, “Okay, ow!” he winces dramatically.

Sometimes you forget Sunghoon is an only child and didn’t have the sibling reflex, “Shit, I’m sorry, Hoon,” you apologise, leaning down to assess the damage but before you get too close, Sunghoon bursts into laughter once again. Slapping his chest you sit next to him, disgruntled.

Once he has composed himself, he sits up and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head, “Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute,” he whispers into your hair, trying to ease your brass neck. You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that he didn’t see you as some pathetic little girl.

You fail to understand that Sunghoon could never perceive you as anything other than perfect. Sure, no one actually is flawless, but you’re pretty close in his eyes; you’re perfect for him.

“Okay, I will stop telling stories if you guys stop acting so mushy,” Minhee relents, opening his packet of Skittles.

Tilting your head up, you place a soft kiss on Sunghoon’s lips, just to add a little torment to your brother which works because he’s fake gagging on his bed. He’s so dramatic but you’ll take the teasing over him holding a grudge about your relationship.

“I love you,” Sunghoon whispers tenderly, his hand squeezing your soft side, “padded bra and all.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you push him away playfully, trying to act annoyed but it doesn’t really work, you can’t stay angry at him for longer than a day - your entire relationship journey has proven that; even when you fight, big or small, you always find your way back to one another quickly.

You don’t mean to think so seriously in such a lighthearted moment, but you can’t help but be thankful for everything that has transpired. There are times you want to start over completely, not lie to your brother, stick up to your mum, skip the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal and just be with one another completely. But in truth, it’s just made your relationship stronger, both of you releasing that there isn’t a day you both don’t want to be together.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sweets?” he asks in a whisper, petting you with love.

You shake your head, “Nothing, just happy. That’s all.” And it was the truth, you’ve never been more content with anything in your life.

Minhee clears his throat, “Guys, seriously. Glad you’re all in love but can we pick a show now?”

Sunghoon and you shuffle to sit on your bed, getting comfy as Minhee flicks through the TV section on Netflix and when you and your brother both see My Demon in recently added, you both turn to one another, smiling brightly.

Your boyfriend isn’t completely aware of your obsession with Song Kang, but he is about to find out.

_____

As the hours go by, face masks have been done and subsequently making the whole room smell of paella and vanilla, you begin to hear Minhee snoring on the other bed; you’re 5 episodes into My Demon and clearly, he has had enough. Fair enough, it is reaching midnight and he is up extremely early tomorrow, but so is Sunghoon and he is wide awake, not caring about his beauty sleep one bit.

In fact, he has started caressing your thigh a bit too close to a certain area. All night he’s found some way to touch you, either a hug, spooning you, or grazing his fingers over any skin that isn’t covered. Luckily for him, your shorts have ridden up just enough to leave the tops and inners of your thighs exposed.

You push his hand away, “Mini is right there,” you speak lowly, trying to caution him off but Sunghoon couldn’t care less, only tracing up further to your core.

“He’s sleeping,” he argues back as he spares a quick glance to a passed-out Minhee.

Honestly, he was so sick of you melting when Song Kang popped up on the TV, he’s not afraid to admit that he’s jealous. Every time you held in a squeal as the actor smiled or had his top off, he knew he had to get you back to reality, back to the time when all you saw was him. It was childish but he doesn’t bother to worry about that, knowing you like it when he’s a bit possessive and clingy.

You sit up straight to face him, eyes flashing in warning, “He could wake up,” you’re trying to reason with him but his face doesn’t show any sense of understanding of how badly this scenario could end. You’ll do a lot with Sunghoon but fucking him while your brother is in the room is a hard pass. He was insatiable, you always knew it, you just thought he had some decorum when it came to having sex in front of family.

Smirking, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “With how loud you are, he probably would wake up.” Teasing you isn’t the best approach for getting what he wants, he sees that in your peeved expression, “Fine, how about we go to my hotel room?” he offers as a solution.

With his fingers now dancing along the top of your pussy, you quickly agree, already standing up and pulling him out of the room, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut.

Once you both enter his room, he wastes no time, kissing you roughly like he has been wanting to do since you changed into your little pyjamas. The heat from his body is a telltale sign that he’s ready to just ravish you as soon as he gets you naked.

And that he does, stripping you of any material you have on and pushing you onto the bed. You’re a vision in front of him, some hickeys and bruises scattered over your body from the last time you had sex, which in Sunghoon’s mind, was far too long ago.

With hungry eyes, you watch as he sheds his own clothing, revealing his arousal as he strokes himself slowly. Your breath catches in anticipation, craving the feel of him inside you, the throbbing intensity of his desire mirrored in you.

“I’ve got a surprise,” he says suddenly, licking his lips mischievously.

You lean on your elbows, confused by his words, “What kind of surprise?”

Holding a finger up, he bends down to his suitcase, rummaging through it to find something, only making you more curious, “It’s in here somewhere,” he states more to himself than you, his smile widening as he comes across something, “There you are.”

As he stands back up, you look into his hand and your jaw hits the floor, “Where did you get that?”

Sunghoon stands proud as punch as he twirls the pink rose toy in his right hand, smiling at it happily, “I know a thing or two, Sweets.”

You had your own rose toy at home, literally more prized than the award you won a few months ago. It’s your saviour when you’re too stressed or just craving some release when Sunghoon isn’t readily available. You hadn’t told him about it, so you’re a little shocked he had one.

It also looked much better than yours so you’re going to have to sneak it into your bag before you all leave on Sunday.

Snaking his way to you, he shows you it up close, “Y’know, I used to think these toys were the enemy, taking away something from me,” he pauses, spitting on the top of it, rubbing his saliva into the creases of the rose petals, “But then I thought, it could really be an asset.”

Pressing the power button on, the machine starts to vibrate and suck in air, making you swallow dryly in anticipation. You knew how good it felt when you used it on your own so you can only imagine the power it holds in Sunghoon’s hands.

Sleeking it to your folds, he wastes no time in pressing it directly on your clit, wiggling it around to make sure he has it on your sweet point. As you gasp and fall flat on the bed, he knows he’s found it.

Sunghoon knows how it works but this is admittedly his first time seeing it in action and by God was he glad he stumbled across it on Twitter. The way you’re already wriggling under its suck is causing his cock to jump straight up in arousal. This is such a nice change for him, to see how your tits move from side to side as your body responds to the sensation on your clit, your mouth falling open so beautifully as whimpers escape. Normally, he’s got a different view, his head buried where the rose toy is right now; he’ll need to find more ways to witness you from this angle.

“Hoon! It’s-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he loosens the toy which only makes it suck your clit up harder. What you were going to say is that it’s already got you close, the mix of the vibration and everything else proving a bit too much.

Typically, when you use the toy back home, it’s a 5-minute job, the flower living up to its hype, and now is no exception. But there’s something even more arousing about your boyfriend being in control of it all. If it got a little intense, you could normally pull it away of your own accord, but with Sunghoon in control, you don’t have that luxury; you need to power through the fire that is burning within your nub.

Seeing you close, he licks and bites his bottom lip, thinking of how he can take credit for some of this climax, rather than congratulations only being on the vibrating machine in his hand. He suddenly shoves three of his fingers into his mouth, gathering his spit onto them before brushing them along your hole.

The rose already has you super wet so it’s easy for him to slide his digits right in, getting to work on finding your spongy spot, the very spot that he always curls into and gets you cumming.

With the addition of Sunghoon’s fingers, your eyes roll to the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes visible. It’s intense and you’re going to cum so hard over his fingers you might genuinely be spent after this one orgasm.

Like a crash, you cry out his name, chanting a few swear words for punctuation as you cum. Your clit throbs and puffs out as you orgasm, only making the toy have more to suck and pulse onto. It’s like heaven and hell all came at once, not sure if the pleasure outdoes the pain or vice versa. To be fair, the pain isn’t excruciating, you just feel yourself being overstimulated by the rosebud and Sunghoon’s fingers which isn’t a bad thing, just takes some time to adjust.

Sunghoon’s fingers thrust into you fast, each time he drags it out, more of your essence is left on the hotel covers, painting them a darker shade of ivory. He thinks it’s a waste, how the bedsheets get to soak up your juices when it should be his tongue, but he can’t change up the pace now, your body speaking the words you can’t. You’re enjoying this far too much.

“Sunghoon, please!” you whine while your body instinctively tries to retreat from his touch to find relief.

“You want something, baby?” he asks so innocently, his fingers still thrusting into you with velocity, “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

He sits on his knees, looking down at you to wait for your response, one he knows will take all your strength to muster. You’re a sight to behold; eyes screwed shut as you try to work through the overstimulation yet your mouth breathing out loud moans.

“Cock,” is the only word you can say, so drunk on the pleasure that you’re practically dumb in lust, not a thought in your brain other than getting fucked by Sunghoon’s thick cock.

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, “You want my cock?” your boyfriend’s ego is already big but when he gets you into bed, it increases tenfold. He adores that you want him and his body just as much as he wants yours.

“Fuck, yes, Hoonie, please,” you beg, trying to remove both his hands so he’ll just slip into you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he says huskily, his heart swelling in his chest with pride.

However, what you want him to do is remove the toy with his fingers, which is clearly a pipe dream since the next thing that happens makes you scream.

His fingers are replaced with his long cock, but he doesn’t remove the toy from your aching nub, rather, moving it even more directly over you, dancing it along with your body as you try to get away. He’s being so cruel to you, causing this torment of excessive stimulation.

Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way though, he knows when you finally relax and ride through the burning, you’ll be begging him to keep going. Also, with every thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, he gets a jolt of vibration hitting the end of his shaft, giving him a new sense of pleasure.

He hasn’t ever used toys on himself, his hand and you being all he needs, but he might just have to find a few new ways to incorporate some toys into the mix. Perhaps he can convince you to let him use a massager in the future.

Jackhammering into you, he throws his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your walls slamming down on him. Your body is busily thrashing beneath him, only giving the tip of his member new areas to get in amongst.

“You feel so fucking good, Sweets,” he groans out, only going faster and deeper into you. The toy is an excellent companion, however, it’s limiting his horsepower, wishing he could just bend you in half and drive into you with no mercy.

Finally, he takes the flower from your clit, and your body instantly relaxes. The cold air whisking over your hot pussy is like breathing in fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long; it’s heaven.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon long to find a new purpose for it though, placing it over one of your hardened nipples, “Hold that there for me, baby,” he asks, making sure that your nipple is full inside the hole of the toy. You feel the vibrating all the way up to your jaw, but you oblige, anything for him to fuck you like he always does.

Getting into a new position, he finds a new harsher rhythm, his pointed thrusts snapping into you with the purpose of getting you both off. Sunghoon’s entire body is rocking, the bed squeaking lousy under you both, only drowned out by the clusters of your moans.

Before you know it, you’re cumming again, this time, you think you’re going to squirt all over him, the feeling of release far too intense to be a normal few sprits that will coat his cock. Instead, you roar loudly, like no noise you’ve ever made before, one of those groans that comes straight from your toes and through your chest. You lose grip of the toy and focus on finding anything to anchor onto, scared you might float away with your second climax.

Hearing you cry out erupts a drive in him, his hips moving into you just as you like it. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabs both of your hands in his and piledrives into you, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss.

You can tell he’s close too, the heavy rise and fall in his chest a dead giveaway. His cock is leaking cum into you in short bursts, causing his hips to jerk quickly into you, almost like he’s trying to make sure his dick is stuck inside you as deep as it can possibly go.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, a little bit of drool falling from his lips which you gladly lick up before slipping your tongue into his mouth. Sunghoon can’t stop cumming inside you, each time he thinks he’s finished, a few more ropes escape him.

You can feel both of your cum running down your ass cheeks, the escaping liquid running hot as Sunghoon musters up any energy he has left to hold himself above you, “I think I might have set a new record for how much cum can spill from a man,” he laughs, giving you eskimo kisses.

Reaching over, you turn the rose toy off, leaving the room filled with only your intertwined heavy breaths and laughter. You feel so happy in this moment that you could honestly die happily right now.

Sunghoon climbs off you, pulling you up with him, leaving a gentle his on your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to find something to clean you both with. You lean over the bed, finding one of his t-shirts sitting in his suitcase and putting it on your spent body. The best part of spending any form of time with Sunghoon is stealing his clothes.

Walking back in with a face cloth, he wipes your pussy and thighs down, his fingers fishing out any cum remnants left. The sudden curling of his finger makes you clench again, “Sorry, Sweets. That was just a lot of cum, need to make sure it’s all out,” he whispers.

“I’ll go pee, that’ll help,” you say back, pushing him away to give you a pathway off the bed to excuse yourself to the toilet.

While you’re in there, he tidies up and puts on some fresh boxers, his cock still softening from the intensity of the fucking it just had. As he picks up the rose toy he smiles, chucking it into his case with a promise to use it at least once more before you leave.

“Tomorrow is a big day, huh?” your voice travels from the bathroom as you wash your hands.

“I suppose so,” Sunghoon responds, a little too nonchalant.

He should be nervous, it’s a massive competition that is broadcast to thousands. Sure, he has done this a few times but surely with the ankle injury, he should be a bit apprehensive about going out there.

You climb onto the bed and sit on his lap, arms circling his neck, “Why don’t you seem worried about this?” you ask, playing with the ends of his dampened hair.

In response, he shrugs, “I’m the number one skater, why should I be?” This isn’t his normal cocky attitude, this is something else. He knows something that he’s not telling you.

And you’ll be damned if you’re kept in the dark about another thing.

“Tell me the truth, Sunghoon. We promised not to lie to one another anymore.”

“It’s not lying if I just withhold information,” he replies, his lips trying to distract you as they pepper kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

But you push him away before you do get too into it, “That wasn’t the case when I ‘withheld information’ about Minhee breaking your skate,” you retort, hating to bring up the past but when push comes to shove, you’ll do it.

Closing his eyes, he nods in understanding. Sunghoon knows you’re right, you don’t deserve to be in the dark, “I’m throwing the competition tomorrow.”

The room goes quiet as you process his words. At this moment, you feel a sense of burden creeping back onto your body, “What do you mean throwing it? You haven’t lost a competition like this since you turned 16.” He isn’t the Nation’s best skater for nothing, he’s proved time and time again that he’s not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, the conversation with his mum pops back into your head for some reason. Her lack of acknowledgement of Sunghoon’s talents must have been with him for so long - fuck, they might still be with him. Maybe he’s throwing it in defiance?

He sees you think it over and over before he finally interjects, “I’ll still place top 3, Sweets. I’m just making sure he comes first, that’s all.”

“Why would you do that? You know if he finds out, he’ll be livid.” You can’t imagine Minhee ever wishing Sunghoon to yield it so easily, your brother worked too hard to perfect his routine to win by some giveaway.

“Okay,” he breathes out, knowing this conversation is about to get a little difficult, “We both decided it, actually. That day we went into the coach's office? Yeah, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.”

“You want me to what?” Sunghoon asks, accompanied by a scoff.

Minhee bites his tongue from making any rash comment, needing the other skater on his side for his plan to work, “I want you to throw Nationals.”

Letting a venomous laugh out, Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously asking me to purposefully lose at Nationals after everything you’ve done to me? To Y/N? You can forget it.”

Storming off, Sunghoon can barely reach the door before Minhee swings him back around to face him, a fire in his eyes that Sunghoon has never seen before, “Look, this isn’t for me. It’s for Y/N.”

“Yeah of cours-”

“Let me fucking finish, Park,” Minhee snaps, his voice raised and arm gripping Sunghoon a little rougher, “Y/N told you about our mum, how she has stakes on me winning?” he waits to make sure you did actually have such a conversation with your boyfriend, to which Sunghoon nods, waiting for your brother to continue, “If I win, she gets a boat load of money, it’s all illegal and there are rules and stakes that I don’t even know the full detail of but either way, she’s playing it dirty with some big bosses. She took money from some guys to put the bets on, y’know?”

Minhee’s explanation isn’t convincing his counterpart, wondering where you come into this, “I don’t hear Y/N’s name in this. If your mum has a gambling addiction, that’s between her and the guys she’s fucking over, not my girl.”

“The bets are in Y/N’s name.”

“What?” Sunghoon yanks his arm from his grasp, stepping back a little, “You mean she’s tied up in all of this?”

Nodding, Minhee feels the familiar boil of rage within him. He still can’t fully comprehend how his mother could do this to you, she is meant to look after you, not cause you harm, “I know, it’s fucked. If mum loses these bets, guess who everyone is going to be gunning for?”

Sunghoon’s heart quickens, the thought of you being in danger is making him feel sick and the words hang heavily in the air between the two people who love you the most. Your entanglement within this mess of a web was the last thing Sunghoon thought Minhee would say.

“So if you win, and she gets the money…”

“Then they get their cut. Happy days, my sister is no longer in danger,” Minhee rubs his temples, trying to give his brain a moment to gather itself before he divulges the rest, “I’m telling you this because I know you love her and as I said, you’d be doing this for her.”

There is so much to think about that Sunghoon’s brain is sparking out a little, but one thing is for certain, he is going to do everything in his power to protect you, “Fine. I’ll lose. But how do we know your mum won’t do something else?”

“I don’t,” Minhee confesses truthfully. He has no idea if she’ll even give the men their cut once he wins, “I’m gonna tell her that I know about her gambling and the illegality of it all, hope that scares her enough to not try and fuck any of us over, y’know?”

“That’s all you’re going to do? The love of my life is out there with a target on her back and you’re just going with a presumption that she’ll back off by a threat?” There is steam coming from Sunghoon’s head and his fists are balled up in rage. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.

Minhee holds in his frustration, knowing Sunghoon is only looking out for you, but the lack of faith in him is making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool, “She might be your girlfriend, but she’s my sister, alright. I have been doing everything in my willpower to keep her safe since we were little…Listen, I know my mum, she’s scared and I can see it. She’s way deeper into this than she knows how to deal with, she wants that money and to get away from those gambling sharks, yeah? My mum won’t do anything like this again, I feel it.”

It’s a hunch, a loose, untrusted huch, but it’s all he’s got. He just wants to protect you right here and now. If your mum stoops low enough to bring you back into a mess like this, he’ll sort it when the time comes.

Seeing Minhee’s resolve, the raven-haired boy retracts, calming down. He knows Minhee is trying his best, and if he can keep you out of immediate danger by coming in second at a competition, he will gladly do it.

You sit still, processing the bomb that has just been dropped on you. The gambles being in your name is something you had no idea about, hence why they probably didn’t tell you about this grand plan.

What does someone even do in this situation?

Sunghoon rubs your arm reassuringly, trying to get you to speak or even make a noise of acknowledgement. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear this for the first time but he knew that he couldn’t tell you; if he let you in on Minhee and his secret, you would have tried to solve the problem yourself, to help everyone else in the situation as best you can, and he couldn’t watch you do that, not when none of this was your fault.

“Don’t throw it,” you say firmly.

Sunghoon freezes, his hand stilling on your arm as he looks at you, surprise evident in his eyes. He hadn't expected those to be the first words to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room, “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

Perhaps you are, but you can’t watch anyone sacrifice their livelihood, especially a chance of gold at Nationals, just for you. It’s selfish, on both your part and your mother's. No, you didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but there was something you could do now.

Unfortunately, this is what Sunghoon was afraid of.

“You saw Minhee’s skate, he’s phenomenal. I want him to win this properly,” you confess quietly, still struggling with the information relayed to you only minutes ago.

“What about your mum? Sweets, this is a full-proof plan to get you both away from your mum, to let you both live without her mess,” his left hand cradles your cheek as he moves closer to you, as if hearing the solution from a closer distance would suddenly help change your mind.

It won’t, you’re determined to have this conversation end your way the only option forward is, “Please, Hoonie. If he loses, we will deal with it…but I believe in Mini so much, especially after seeing the rehearsal a few weeks ago. I want him to know he can win this on his own merit.” Your eyes search for any ounce of understanding.

Sunghoon's brow furrows in frustration, his mind racing with the weight of the decision before you both. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to shield you from harm, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to upset you and go against your wishes.

Taking a deep breath, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his embrace offering silent reassurance and support. "Okay," he says finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll do it your way. I won’t throw the competition but ONLY if he does well. He’s on before me on the card so I’ll make the call then,” he can barely believe he’s agreeing to this.

A mixture of relief and fear wash over you. You understand the gravity of his concession, knowing that it's not an easy decision for him to make. It fills you with gratitude that he actually listened to you.

"Thank you, Hoonie," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "I promise, we'll figure this out together. And Minhee... he'll do amazing, I just know it.”

The belief you have in your brother is something Sunghoon only wished for growing up, seeing how determined you are to make sure Minhee knows he’s talented enough to win and solve this mess by just being good at what he does makes your boyfriend a little envious. He knows why Minhee is so protective of you, but now seeing how you protect and only do the right thing for one another, putting your sibling before anything else, it’s admirable.

“What time is he on?” you ask, twiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“2:35pm. I’m on at 3:45pm so I’ll see the scores and whatever in plenty of time to determine what to do.” There is a new sense of life in Sunghoon, certain that no matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to make sure you and Minhee walk out happily, with no worries perched on your shoulders.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #melting point #aj writes

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captain-barnes-writes · 9 months

Text

Fallen Petals

Part two

Summary: Max Verstappen watches as his ex-girlfriend moves on with Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader x Ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: angsty, salty max, cute dreamy carlos hehe this is revengeeee

Word Count: 1.6k

Not proofread

[ this is in connection to what is soft launch? mini series ]

2023

The notion of home was important for Max Verstappen. For a long time, Monaco had been lacking the sort of familiarity and feeling it once used to have. It was no longer homemade dinners and escapades to the pool, failed baked dishes or tranquil mornings spent on a warm terrace. It was no longer long walks along the french riviera or the warmth of intertwined hands and loving glances.

The place itself no longer carried that feeling he desired.

That feeling had walked away with a girl whose presence was just about gone from his life. She was a dusted memory that had been packed away but reemerged ever so frequently.

The pretty smile, those memorable looks through long lashes, the mere pull she had as a person. Her patience and warm love. That despite how much he had corrupted her she had retained much of that inner innocence.

Those unforgettable mornings of bright rays shining in on them as they were a mess of limbs on the bed, not preoccupied with the world outside—just a couple eloquently in love.

Max could never quite forget her.

He also couldn’t forget how she didn’t retaliate in any way when it all came to an end. She just left when he had faltered, when he had stepped out on her and their relationship. Respected herself enough to not stick around for the world of hurt he was already putting her through.

She didn’t speak to the press, didn’t put out any statement when it all came crashing down. Didn’t shade him or didn’t call to cuss him out when his relationship with the same brunette she already had her doubts about became public just a few weeks later.

Now she had crept back into the same world that had destroyed her all those years ago. How the rumors propagated just about everywhere, how so many had pitied her for the mere fact that they were smart enough to see how fast things had happened for him. Put the puzzle pieces together, connected the dots as one relationship suddenly ended without a peep and another one began so soon after.

The first time Max saw her resurfaced a turmoil of feelings he had suppressed for so long. It had been at the paddock on the day of Barcelona’s grand Prix. She looked everywhere but at the dark blue of the red bull structure as she walked behind the red of the ferrari members and Carlos Sainz.

Of course they had to make their first public appearance in Carlos’ home country Grand Prix. How symbolical, Max chastised in his head. His jealousy so apparent to those who stood around him.

All he could see was her side profile, ever so beautiful, as she tried her hardest to avoid looking at a place she had spent so many of the races supporting him.

Yet it was funny how life worked. How it intertwined paths that were thought to never cross again. How much avoiding, being adamant about it, could get you right back to the place you were running away from.

She tried to avoid him as if her life depended on it. Eyes looking forward wanting nothing to do with Max and especially not after he had embarrassed her just days prior on social media. How he couldn’t seem to deal with the fact she was dating another f1 driver and wanted the world to remember he had claimed her first so he posted a photo of them in a rage.

He knew he didn’t have the right to react like that, to have had such an outburst like he did. Post a picture of them when he’d given her a bouquet of flowers so large she could barely hold it.

Max’s outburst on instagram had really dangled the media in their faces, put them in an even more awkward situation. He had absolutely no right to react the way he did, she had fumed at his drama-inducing instagram story. He had no right yet he’d gone right for it, put her in an uncomfortable situation.

Not just her, but his very own girlfriend who refused to even look at him and had packed a small bag for her and her daughter deeming she needed her space to think about things. About them.

Now all Max could do was stare with a dumbfounded look as the woman he could never truly shake off was suddenly staring right back at him too. Her face said it all. No emotion towards him, no resentment. Nothing. And especially not when the Spaniard turned around exactly when their gaze had lingered for just a second and grasped at her dainty hand, taking it between his and slightly pulling her forward so they could walk side by side.

Y/N felt her hands become clammy as Carlos grasped tightly onto it, intertwining their fingers for the comfort he knew she needed at that very moment. She was nervous about publicly going into the world of formula 1 again. Nervous about seeing Max again, even just meeting his eyes had made her feel agitated. Like the wind had been knocked out of her with his piercing eyes.

She stared at the man whose hands and even his voice was inviting and calming on days like these when her nerves were out of control.

Carlos Sainz Jr. was sweet and romantic in all the ways Y/N wanted her man to be. He wasn’t scared of showing her off regardless of her history with one of his rivals. None of that mattered to him. Not when he knew he held her entire attention, how she adored him in a way that made him feel content. How she loved him so effortlessly.

Max Verstappen was in her past now. More than two years later and they were now in the very same place together and it resurfaced so many emotions. How the man who would call her his petal was now a man she no longer talked to, no longer crossed paths with, no longer shared her life with. He was a figment of her past, a chapter in her life that had been forcibly closed.

He was also now a man with more responsibilities—a girlfriend who lived with him and bearing the role of being a stepfather.

Y/N had been so utterly heartbroken when Kelly began posting stories about him. When she began sharing so many aspects of their lives and they became that adoring couple that people admired. How loving he could be with another woman just weeks after their breakup.

Regardless of all the distress and pain that came with the realization that something had happened while her and Max were still together came the relief that she walked away from a world of pain.

She didn’t have to wonder if he’d call or if he’d be home on the day he said he would. If he really was where he said he was. She didn’t have to wonder if he’d met another model, an actress or whoever and if she crossed his mind during these interactions.

Now her fingers were interlaced with a man who knew formula 1 all too well. Whose tall frame sported red with the yellow logo of a prancing stallion. Ferrari’s race driver who carried the number 55 on his back. It felt awkward to once again be able to watch a race from the paddock club, but now for a whole different team. How she was in a sea of red instead of the usual blue.

One that rivaled her ex’s very own team.

To root for somebody that was not Max Verstappen.

“Are you ok, princesa?” Carlos asked, his big brown eyes staring down at the girl whose face was anything but relaxed. Brows creased and lips in what seemed a pout. She felt silly that she couldn’t even control her own facial expression during moments of distress.

“I’m nervous.” She admitted.

“We’re doing nothing wrong. You’re my girl, Y/N. I mean…look at you.” His eyes scaled down the beautiful woman at his side, admiring her for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. The yellow dress she wore reached just above her knee and clung to all right places.

“If anything we’re showing how much of a fumble that loss was.”

He didn’t have to mention him to know who they were talking about. She felt bashful at his comment. Cheeks becoming hot as she lightly slapped his arm playfully.

“It’s true, princesa.” He flashed her his dashing smile. Looking even more handsome than she thought possible.

“I got so lucky with you.”

She’d gone from a wilted petal to a princesa. Pretty pet names that carried different meanings, one from a man who had faltered in his love for her and let their love wilt. Another one from a man who made every second possible in their relationship count. Who regardless of the time spent away from each other always made sure she felt loved.

It was the flowers, the facetime dates, the particular gifts ranging from purses he thought she’d like, jewelry and care packages with letters, keychains and snacks from whichever country he found himself in. It was all so different than how it was with Max.

Max’s hands had turned into fists, not being able to hide the sour expression that had overtaken his face. Despite knowing that more than likely cameras were on him he couldn’t hide his overwhelming anger and jealousy. His friend, who stood off the far back had walked towards him, who knew all too well of the events that had taken place the last couple days placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ok?”

“How could I be? I have to watch Y/N be with Carlos almost every single weekend from now on.”

Max frowned as he stared at the couple who walked off into the distance wishing he could take everything back. He wished he had done things differently two years ago, but now it was far too late.

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

This is all over the place but that’s ok at least we saw max get what was coming for him after letting our girl down 😤😤😤

Probably a lot of mistakes so sorryyyyyyy

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x you #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfic rec

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bts-0t-7 · 5 months

Text

So What? | MYG | Chapter 2

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

WC: 2.1K

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar

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Three days passed with the same and the schedule between the both of you remains the same. The black cat - you should really start to come out with a name for it - will only come out from the sofa when you feed it, never allowing you to pet it and only starting to eat when you turn away. But you started to get worried. Its fur was matted in blood and you were afraid that it had sustained severe injuries. You wanted to give it a bath to see how bad the injuries were but it was extremely on edge.

You sighed. Your work shift starts in over an hour and you still need to travel down. You left your room and prepared a big bowl of food and water, placing it at the edge of the sofa.

“I’m going to go work now, kitty. Don’t eat everything for lunch. Keep some for dinner. I’ll be back before midnight.” You waited to see or hear any response from it but, nothing. You didn’t know what to expect - honestly.

Your keys clanged against each other as you opened the gate and wore your shoes. “Bye, kitty!” You called out one last time as you hastily locked the gates.

08 33.

You were going to be so, so late. “Damn it.” You looked at your watch. “Never mind.”

You were going to be late, might as well be late. Right? You ran down the block and unlocked your car. Normally your car sits in the parking lot as you prefer the public transport. However, you can’t afford to be late today. There were important events held today and you need to supply them with the necessities before and during the events.

You drove as fast as the speed limit allows and managed to reach the shop just in time - spare a minute.

“Y/N! Good, you’re here.” Your boss exclaimed. “You put everything down first and help pack the cart.”

“With the boxes?” You pointed to the cardboard boxes that were strewn across the floor. He nodded. “Which ones?” You started opening every box to peek inside. “And this cart is for which event?”

Your boss helped you carry the correct boxes to wrap, saying, “This one is for the company event. I think it’s called Furman or something.”

You nodded. “I have no idea what that is.” The both of you burst out laughing. “Normal, eh?”

The both of you worked together in sync and the things were wrapped, packed, and ready to go.

“What time does the driver come?” You asked as you sat down on the nearest chair. It was only 10 00 and you were already tired.

Your boss looked up from his phone and said, “In five minutes. Peng just texted and said he will be reaching soon.” You nodded, getting up from the seats.

The whole day went by as usual - aching arms, spilling coffee and milk, carrying boxes, serving nasty customers, the list goes on. But today, you were more than happy to go home for a whole new reason. You packed up faster than usual and cleaned up like a speeding train, all to go home earlier to see your cat.

Well, he wasn’t exactly your cat to say.

What the hell do I call him?

Bringing your bag out of the storage room, you turned to ask your boss, “What is a nice name for a male cat but not generic?”

“That’s a rather random question?” He looked up from behind the cashier.

“Come on, please? I wanna go home already.” You whined. “I just need some ideas.”

He scratched his chin. “Did you get a cat?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… Maybe Cookies? Or you can try… What is its fur colour?”

“Erm, black?” Your reply was as if it was a question.

“Blackie? Stormy? Burnt?” He shrugged.

“Hmm, alright thanks.” You scurried out of the shop. “Gotta go, bye!”

You ran for the car park at the back of the building where the store was located and quickly got in. Turning on the engine, you thanked the gods that the roads were fairly empty today, allowing you to reach home earlier than usual. You parked in the multi-story car park where it is sheltered and decided to head over to the nearest supermarket to get some food.

You headed over to the cat food section, picking out a bag of new kibbles and can food. Then, you gravitated over to the vegetables and meat, chicken, and beef. Maybe some seasoning and a tad bit too many crackers.

You paid for the groceries and headed up to your block, struggling to grab your keys as you reached your level. You opened your door and ran to the kitchen, putting everything down before rushing back to close the gates. You turned on the lights and started to pack everything into their respective places on the shelves.

Heading over to the bowls that you have left out for kitty, you spotted that there were only a few kibbles he didn’t finish. You tossed those out and gave them a good wash, placing them on the rack to dry overnight.

You turned off the lights and cautiously headed to your room, hoping that all the noise you made had not yet woken the sleeping cat under your sofa. But when you stepped into your room, oh, you were so wrong.

Kitty was indeed asleep but not under the sofa. It hissed at the sudden attack of light that you switched on, scurrying to your pillow’s snout first.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t know you were there. I thought you were sleeping under the sofa.” You dimmed the lights and headed to the closet, walking over to your bathroom from the connection point there.

Yoongi could hear the water running down the shower room from where he was laying on your bed. He was just about to fall back asleep when you picked him up, making him hiss at the sudden contact. Trying to pry your hands away by lightly scratching you didn’t seem to phase you at all.

Where are you taking me? PUT ME DOWN! I SAID, PUT ME D -

“If you want to sleep in my bed, you are going to take a bath first.” You announced, bringing him to the bathtub which you have already filled up with water.

NO, NO, NO. I DON’T WANT TO BATHE! I WANT TO SLEEP!

You slowly placed him down into the water and he hissed, not wanting to be washed. He sloshed around in the water, attempting to get out but your grip on him was too tight.

“Come on, kitty. I’ll leave you alone later if you are willing to let me bathe you now.”

Fine.

So Yoongi floated there, let you wash him up, blow dry his fur, coo over how soft his fur now is, and check his injuries. When he had gotten enough attention, he jumped off the countertop of the basin and trotted back to the pillows with a meow. Letting you close enough was already pushing his instincts, he wanted to rest now and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Yoongi heard you sigh from the washroom and started to clean things up. He didn’t last too long with the warm pillows and your scent, lulling him into the darkness.

A few more weeks went by and the schedule essentially stayed the same. Nothing really changed.

Nothing really changed.

Food schedules may not have changed but your cat sure did. Kitty, you decided to call it, started to be more comfortable with you after that day you bathed him. His injuries didn’t seem too bad, just a few scratches here and there but have mostly healed over the past few days. You realised that it was indeed a he and that his fur - oh, it was the softest thing you have ever touched. It was even nicer than the fluffy rugs you have lying on the floor of your house.

Sometimes, you even wake up with him snuggled in between your arms.

What a character this cat has.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until a few days ago when you realised that your cat wasn’t eating as much as he used to. He ran fevers, occasionally spasming, and always whined for your attention every time you were near. Hell, you think that he probably vomited while you weren’t around too! You decided to take a leave today to see exactly what was wrong with your cat.

So the moment that you woke up, you prepared to leave for the veterinarian. Your cat, however, did not seem at all fond of the idea. It mewled and clung onto your sofa when you tried to bring it out of the house.

“Come on!” You struggled. “Come on, kitty, seriously! You have been sick for god knows how long and I’m not going to let you keep going like that!” You huffed. “Come…On! Let’s go already. The faster you finish, the faster we can come home.”

When you finally managed to get him out of the door, he meowed the whole way to the vet, almost ripping apart the towel that you had wrapped him in. You heaved a sigh of relief when you reached and got him into the clinic, heading right to the registration counter.

“Hello, what are you here for?”

“Erm, my cat has been having fevers and spasming recently. I would like to have him checked out.” You said, eyes darting around the place, seeing many different animals and feeling real… Out of place. You only fed the stray cats downstairs your blocks but never really had a pet by yourself.

“Have you seen any doctors or come before?”

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t.”

The receptionist nodded. “How long has this been going on?”

You tried to think back to the earlier times when you started to suspect that your cat was sick. “Erm, about a few - maybe around four - days ago?”

“Alright.” The receptionist typed something into her computer and took out a ticket. “You can head over to the seat and wait for your queue number. It will show up on the screen when it is being called.”

You thanked her and went to take a seat.

A3009, You read on the ticket.

“That’s still a long way from ours, kitty. It’s only A286 right now. Hang in there.” You told him as he started to gag after a while. You ran your hands down his back in an attempt to calm him down.

He started to shift around in your hold and you started to panic. “Erm,” You looked up, trying to ask for help just as he puked, vomit splattering off the floor and onto your shoes. People jumped back and pets got startled. The receptionists and nurses came out, trying to diffuse the commotion and clean the mess.

You stood there trying to calm your cat down to no avail. “Gods, I’m so sorry -”

“It’s fine.” A nurse said. “I think this is more serious than you may have thought. Go to room five and knock. The doctor there will let you in. The receptionist has already informed her that you would be going first.”

You nodded and rushed to the room on as steady feet as possible, hoping that your quick movements would not trigger him again.

ROOM 5: DR. PARK JI-HYUN

You knocked and went in, hastily greeting the doctor before explaining what was going on. “I really have no idea and I didn’t know how bad it was. I thought it would have gone away after a while.”

Dr Park conducted some tests and checked his lungs. As the results came back, the frown on his doctor’s brows was not making him feel any better. All the sources online stated that stray cats have a much stronger immune system to counter diseases than domestic cats do, so you decided to try for a few days.

“I think it isn’t quite the problem of what your cat has eaten or what disease it has contracted.” Dr Park said. She scribbled something on the papers and moved to the screens, calling somebody to arrange for some sort of transportation.

When she came back, she looked you dead in the eyes and frowned. Sighing, she said, “Goodness, how do I phrase this?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your cat isn’t a cat. It is a hybrid.”

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 4 days

Text

Stars Align: Part 5

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.

-- Part 4 Here --

________________________

18+ Only

________________________

Past:

You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.

''What are these for?'' you asked.

''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.

''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.

Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''

You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''

Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.

Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.

You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.

''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.

''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''

''Are you gonna... you know?''

''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.

You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''

Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.

''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.

''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.

''Just come inside.''

__________________________

Present:

Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.

The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.

You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.

''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.

''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.

Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.

''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''

''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.

''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.

''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.

''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.

You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.

''Anything for my lil Bird.''

It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.

You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.

You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.

Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.

''California suits you.'' he grinned.

You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.

''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.

''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.

''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.

''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.

''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.

Knock Knock Knock

Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.

''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.

''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.

''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.

Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.

''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''

You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.

''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.

''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.

You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.

Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.

Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.

''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''

Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.

''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.

''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.

And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''

__________________________________

Past:

“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.

You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.

“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.

“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.

Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.

Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”

Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.

“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.

He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.

“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.

Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”

“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.

“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.

“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.

Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”

You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.

“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”

—————————————

Present:

“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.

Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.

“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.

Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.

You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.

You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.

As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.

You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.

“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.

“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”

“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.

There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.

“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.

Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.

“Brad-“

He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.

A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.

“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.

“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.

His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.

The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.

Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.

Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.

You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.

You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”

You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.

“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”

—————————————

-- Part 6 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #romance

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dyysania · 7 months

Text

before i fall asleep - john constantine - oneshot

synopsis: it’s the day constantine had been ‘given treatment’ from satan himself. constantine can be very toxic, especially when you’re his lover. but, even though he doesn’t say it often at all, he loves you. he really does.

————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡

the day his case was done, his lungs became clear. his wrists were no longer slit, and physical health-wise, he was generally so much healthier than he was before. mental-health wise, not so much. like he always has been. since he was a child.

being his girl was never easy, no, not at all. but you loved him more than anything else you knew. and he loved you, although he never said it.

“john…” he turned to face you. you’d caught him finally picking up his pack of cigarettes again.

“don’t.” he scoffs at your warning.

“baby, i’ll be fine.”

“no you won’t, john. you got fucking cancer because of them.” you got up and easily snatched the one in his hand and the entire pack, and threw them out the apartment window.

“those were expensive.”

“i don’t care, john. i don’t wanna be close to losing you again.” you said, him barely able to hear it since your head was halfway through the window as it poured. he pursed his lips for a second.

————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡

he still remembers that day. the day fucking satan took stones from his lungs before john nearly ascended. the day the strong smell of sulfur and fresh air hit his lungs properly that time. how he had watched a half-breed fall, and how the sky was dark and rain fell upon him once he got out. he remembers sprinting to your apartment in the pouring rain because it was closer than his, and how his younger driver, had died because he followed him. like anyone would try to. it was always his fault.

and when he inched from your apartment door, he knocked. it was late. around midnight. but john didn’t hesitate. he never did. he was no longer afraid. and so you peeped through the eyehole and instantly pulled him by his tie inside.

“why are you so late, and why didn’t you get chas to drive you home?” you sighed as you closed the door behind him. he gulped, making his adam’s apple bob slightly.

“can i tell you this once i get washed and changed?” you pursed your lips, knowing he was soaked and you didn’t want him to spread the water across your floors. you hugged his waist from behind, because if you tried to hug him from his shoulders, you’d need to be way taller.

“of course.” you responded with your cheek flat against his back, walking to stand in front of him and stand on your tiptoes, as he leaned down slightly to kiss you softly. he quickly pulled away and walked to the bathroom, leaving you stood there with your head turned to face him. you sighed and gulped as you heard him undress, and you turned most of the lights on so you could make yourself tea, and you sat in bed shakily in the cold waiting for him.

————————— .𖦹 ⋆｡

“you know i love you.” you mumbled as you closed the window shut and went up to your cold lover who sat manspread. your wrists rested on his shoulders, as your chin did on his head. he brought his hand up to make contact with your hand, and his fingertips to wrist were icy. your muscles tensed lightly. but he still had his poker face on.

“come here, baby.” you had the slightest smile on your face. you knew he could never tell you he loved you too, because his toxic masculinity had fueled him. for years. he knew if he told you he loved you, you’d think he was soft. but he had always given you tender love, especially late at night as he watched you asleep, covered in soft blankets he’d get for you because he knows you like sleeping in his shirt, and his shirt only. it’d get his poor girl cold, although his shirts were always huge on you.

and so you straddled him in his warm lap as he buried your face in kisses, with his hands placed on both sides of your hips. afterwards, he just thought in the pure, deafening silence. like he always did. out of tiredness, your head fell into the crook of his neck as you softly smiled, burrowing yourself there. except this time, he’d whispered something to you. just loud enough so his voice would crack through his chapped lips.

“…i love you too.” tears fell from your usual late-night, puffy eyes. but you didn’t make a sound. neither did john as only a few tears fled from his eyes.

“i’m…sorry i don’t tell you it.” his voice ached. for once, john constantine had found it hard for himself to form and speak words.

“but i do…i really, really do. this once, i - i’ll tell you, i think…i think you’re the love of my life. and i love you, i love you, i love you.” your hands reached for the back of his head, the rest of your arms beneath his underarms. the words he had said rang in your head, in his voice. in the voice of the soul, you both believed, satan had waited for to rise to earth and take for himself.

“you need rest,” john had whispered to you, picking you up bridal-style easily and softly letting you down on the bed.

“not more than you do.” you pulled him in by his shirt, but you weren’t strong enough to pull him into the bed. he scoffed lightly at your attempt.

“fine, move over.” you smiled and felt your trail of tears on your soft skin begin to dry. he climbed beside you into the bed, turning the bedroom light off. you rolled into his chest, where you fell asleep most of the time. his hands caressed the back of your head until he thought you were asleep.

“i love you.” he smiled, for the first time, since a long one.

every night after on, you made sure to keep yourself awake for a few minutes when he thought you were asleep, and it turns out, maybe he does tell you he loves you quite often.

#boo’s thing #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #john constantine #john constantine 2005 #john constantine x reader #john constantine fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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gurugirl · 2 years

Text

The Long Weekend*

Happy Harry Fic Friday! To get your weekend started off right

Summary: You and Harry have some things to work out because you hate each other but all of your friends are rooting for you (all except Harry's girlfriend of course)

Warning: Smut, 18+ only, NSFW, a broken heart, loud sex that can be heard by all

A/N: This one is an easy read, not a ton of angst and it's super predictable but wanted to give you guys something for the weekend! Hope you enjoy! 9.8k words

He always seemed to ignore you whenever you’d come around. You’d tell a story or be talking to someone but Harry would barely glance in your direction, and sometimes he’d just talk over you completely. As if he didn’t realize you even existed.

It drove you nuts. You couldn’t understand what you did to him to make him treat you this way.

When you first met Harry he was nice and treated you pretty much like he treated everyone else. But that changed fast. One day everything was normal and then the next time you saw him he was cold and dismissive toward you.

You never brought it up with any of your mutual friends. You didn’t want to seem fazed by his behavior and the truth was you just didn’t want to risk having someone tell him about your concern. You didn’t want him to think he’d gotten under your skin.

Today was no different. All of your friends met up at Dan’s which was where you’d start off the road trip to his family’s lake house. You’d been once before and knew it was a cute house with four bedrooms (there were 8 of you so, it was 2 to a room. All the couples would be staying together and then there were the two single people, you and Jenna who would share a room), 2 bathrooms, and a lovely outdoor area with a big yard and a dock with a boat right at the water’s edge.

Dan and Arthur were already at the front of their house packing things into their large SUV for the trip. You parked along the street, and got out of your little hatchback and grabbed your bag and a folding chair. You waved at Arthur as you stepped into the grass and you were warmly greeted by him.

Everyone would be split into two vehicles. You were going to go with Dan and Arthur and Jenna and the two other couples would be in Adam’s car. His girlfriend Patricia and then Harry and his girlfriend Natalia.

You were looking forward to a long weekend away. Monday was a holiday so everyone had the day off which meant you were all returning on Monday afternoon. Dan’s house was near the woods where you could hike every morning if wanted and it was also right on the water where you could spend your afternoons relaxing with a book.

When the rest of the group arrived the only person missing was Natalia. Apparently she would be meeting everyone at the lake house tomorrow. And with this new development there was an unintentional shift in which car Harry was taking. He climbed into Dan’s SUV casually and sat in the bench seat behind the driver’s side and buckled himself in. You were already seated in the car scrolling through your phone when he climbed in next to you.

“Uh, Jenna is supposed to be here.” You said to him, wondering if he’d even acknowledge you. It was just the two of you in the SUV after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t have heard you.

Harry frowned and looked at you (you hadn’t expected him to even glance in your direction) scoffing, “What, she can’t go with Adam and Patty?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. This would be a long ride.

Just as expected, the entire two hour drive Harry spoke over you and acted put-out every time you did speak. Dan and Arthur didn’t seem to pick up on Harry’s bitter vibes at all. To you, it seemed obvious that Harry was being rude.

When everyone arrived to the house it was still early afternoon so there was plenty of time to enjoy the rest of the day. You and Jenna settled into the bedroom you’d share, which was luckily right next to one of the bathrooms.

You grabbed a book and headed out to the yard to climb into the hammock you’d seen on your way in. Once you’d crossed the yard and gotten near the hammock you realized it was two hammocks a few feet apart, hung in the trees just 30 feet from the lake.

You climbed into the one furthest into the trees and settled in, letting the hammock swing slowly as you looked up to the ceiling of the trees and the blue sky above that. It felt good to sit back and relax. You felt like your week had been long, even though you had Friday off and plus you had the long weekend with the holiday. Then that car ride from hell with Harry…

It was at that moment you heard someone approaching. A sniffle, shuffling, then the sound of feet being projected from the ground with tiny pebbles of dirt being disturbed from the force.

The momentum the person gained from the hop into the other hammock caused a break in your peace by slamming into your side causing you to yelp and grasp onto the edges of the opening of the hammock for stability.

“Shit! Sorry!” You hear him say, laughing his words out. You knew immediately who was speaking, who the offender was.

You brought your head up to peek out and see it with your own eyes. There he was with thick, dark curls on his head, light green eyes and a cute dimpled grin. Why did Harry have to be attractive?

His smile fell of course the moment he realized it was you.

“Oh. S’just you.” He lowered himself down into the hammock with a sigh and smacked his lips in finality.

“Oh, it’s just me? So then it doesn’t matter when you disturb me because it’s just me?” You stare at the smooth red polyester fabric that hung swaying next to you as you speak, feeling your stress build once again.

And like you’d gotten used to, he didn’t respond. Not a peep. The asshole. At least he was quiet. You decided to just ignore him and lie back to enjoy the reason you came out here. To read your book.

After maybe five minutes of reading you could hear Harry clear his throat. You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the words you were reading but then he sniffed and cleared his throat again. You popped your head up above the edge of the hammock and saw that he was sitting up looking toward you already. You raised your brows at him in question.

“I came out here because I saw you get in the hammock.” He spoke matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow and pouted dramatically in confusion.

“Why?” You stared at him; mind boggled at the idea that he purposely came out here when he saw you.

Harry sighed and shifted his position a bit, causing the hammock to swing a little as he grasped onto the material, “Cause I wanted to talk.” He looked out over the water as he said that last part and your mind was in overdrive trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

“About?” you were still looking at him in confusion, not understanding one bit this sudden change. You watched his side profile for a bit and thought he might not respond again, but then he finally turned his head and looked at you.

“You hurt my feelings a while back and I never told you about it. So I’ve been pissed a bit.” He ran a hand this hair. His tattooed forearm was draped over the fabric of the hammock on display and you found yourself staring at that rather than his face. You couldn’t think of what you’d done to hurt his feelings.

“Oh. I didn’t realize I did anything wrong. I don’t remember doing anything.” You shook your head, eyes still on his inked arm.

“Yeah well you did. I haven’t gotten over it.” He huffed.

“Maybe if you tell me what happened I can explain or something. But since I’ve no clue…” you finally looked up to his face again. His eyes on yours. You shrugged.

Harry nodded and looked down toward his lap, “We were at Dan’s. All of us. Thought we were all having a good time. Talking about the type of people we were attracted to and you said I was shallow, had bad taste.”

You paused. You definitely didn’t remember ever telling Harry he had bad taste or that he was shallow. You couldn’t imagine what he was on about. You cocked your head and blinked, “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course not. But you said it. Maybe not in so many words, but it was alluded to. You were dating some guy at the time and I asked you why he wasn’t with us if you liked him so much and you went off. Started saying how I never brought around any of the girls I dated because they were all bimbos, no depth, something along those lines. I tried to defend myself but you just kept digging in. Telling me I had terrible taste in people and that I only went for good looks. Pissed me right off cause that’s just not true one bit.”

You vaguely remembered the night now that Harry jogged your memory. You were just teasing. You never meant any harm but you did go all in. Part of you was jealous because he’d just started dating a new girl who you did get to meet. She was, of course, just as beautiful as Harry. And at the time, you thought Harry kind of was into you but when he started dating whatever-her-name-was, and you met her you got jealous, because of course he wasn’t into you. Harry always dated very gorgeous women. Harry himself was gorgeous and so it only made sense. There was probably a part of you that was hurt by it but you didn’t think what you said was that bad, especially because you didn’t mean anything by it.

“Well, I guess I’m sorry? I honestly barely remember the whole thing but I kind of recall teasing you. I didn’t mean any harm, Harry.”

Harry looks up at you with a frown and furrowed brow, “You guess you’re sorry? Even if you meant no harm, you hurt my feelings. What you said wasn’t true. I don’t just date someone because they’re attractive. I get to know the person. I may date attractive people but I also happen to like who they are.”

Harry laid back down into the hammock, his head disappearing below the edge of the fabric so you could no longer see him and you heard him mumble, “Fuckin’ guesses she’s sorry. Fuck that.”

You were stunned. Had you really been that callous? It didn’t seem like a big deal to you at all. Should you do something?

“Yeah, well, I probably would have been more likely to give you the apology you think you need if you’d told me months ago when it happened. Instead, you have been deliberately rude to me, ignoring me, interrupting me, and not inviting me along when you plan stuff with our group of friends. You’ve been an asshole to me intentionally. What I said to you that night wasn’t something that was intentionally meant to harm you. But the way you’ve treated me since then is intentional. I think you owe me an apology, Harry.” You scoff.

Harry scoffs right back and his hammock shifts a bit before you see his hands grabbing at the fabric to pull himself up to look at you.

“No. I thought you and I were friends before you said those things to me. I realized what kind of person you are and so now I just treat you how you deserve. You’re a bitch to me so I’ll be an ass to you.”

You both stare at one another with scrunched, disgusted faces for a moment. You were pissed. He really thought you’d been so mean that you deserved almost four months of the cold shoulder? Fuck him.

“You know what? You’re right, Harry. I’m just gonna keep treating you like the ass you are since you are so sensitive to what I said one time to you. Did it strike a nerve? Maybe that’s cause it’s true. Tell me about how deep and well-read Natalia is. I bet she’s just a regular conversationalist with tons of complexity and intellect to keep us all on our toes.” You roll your eyes. Yeah, you probably took it too far. You kind of liked Natalia. She wasn’t a bimbo and you don’t know why you said what you said but you were frustrated with Harry. If he wanted to continue being rude to you then you would just egg it on, really make it worth his while.

“You’re a fucking bitch. No wonder you rarely find anyone who wants to fuck you. When’s the last time you got laid, huh? Probably that shithead you were seeing four months ago. Doubt anyone with any sense would want to. At least I get a regular fuck, even if you think so lowly of the type I like. Fuck you.”

You both slid back down into your hammock. You had tears fighting to escape and you didn’t want Harry to see. You hadn’t meant to say what you just said but fuck him. He had been so mean to you for all these months and now he’s telling you?

You sniffled and wiped at your nose trying to calm yourself. You couldn’t get back into reading the book you’d brought. You couldn’t relax anymore either, knowing Harry was right there. So you decided to go somewhere else.

After your minor struggle of getting yourself out of the hammock safely you began to head toward the house so you could get your camp chair and sit by the lake.

Jenna stopped you as you were walking back over the lawn toward the lake, “Hey! Was wondering where you’d been. Wanna go for a swim?” She had a red plastic cup in hand, probably filled with a mixed drink of some kind and then you realize, you should probably get yourself something to drink. To relax and forget about the tall, well-built, curly haired, green-eyed monster with tattoos who’d nearly just made you cry.

So, you joined Jenna with a drink and put your bathing suit on. It was just a basic one-piece suit. You brought a few slinkier suits to wear as well, but today, you weren’t feeling sexy. You were still upset.

You downed your vodka and random mix of juices quickly before hopping into the lake with Jenna. Patty was already in the water and Arthur was laying on the small bit of sand on a towel.

You didn’t see Harry for a few hours, which you were thankful for. You started feeling a lot better as the night progressed. For dinner Dan grilled burgers and hotdogs and there were chips and more drinks. He’d turned on some music and everyone was gathered on the huge outdoor deck.

You were quite tipsy, closing in on drunk by the time Harry joined everyone for dinner.

Harry didn’t even look your way. As calmed as you were feeling about everything you were still upset with Harry.

When the sun went down Arthur and Dan made a nice bonfire. Everyone sat around it with marshmallows, good music playing in the background, and more drinks. By this time you’d slowed down how much alcohol you were consuming, not wanting to wake with a terrible hangover. You were still tipsy and floaty, though. You stuck by Jenna’s side on the bench near the fire but you could see Harry across from where you sat. The fire lit up his handsome face and you did your best to look away but it was difficult, especially after the awkward encounter you two had earlier.

Dan and Arthur were the first to go to bed. Then Adam and Patty. Now it was just you, Jenna, and Harry. Jenna had no idea bout what you and Harry were dealing with internally. He was still pissed at you but he’d had quite enough beer to feel a little relaxed, not as pent up over the issue.

Jenna got up to get another drink for herself and turn the music down since half of the group had already gone to bed.

It was awkward again. Just you and Harry. You noticed that he did keep looking at you, maybe just as often as you looked toward him. You hated that he kept catching your gaze. You hated what had happened between you two.

You gulped down the last of you drink and leaned back on the little wood stump you were sat on. You looked up to the sky and there were stars and the moon looked almost full. It was a gorgeous night. You just wish that you and Harry could resolve your issues because this would make your weekend so much better if you could.

Long minutes stretch on. You realize it’s been about twenty minutes since Jenna left. You turn to look over your shoulder at the house and there’s no sign of Jenna at all. You wonder if perhaps she went to bed rather than getting another drink.

You looked back toward Harry and he was already looking at you. He seemed so cute and so gentle when you looked at him. You felt warm toward him. A sudden rush of emotion came over you and you decided to just act on emotion rather than reason. You got up from your stump and walked around the fire to sit down right next to Harry on the small wooden bench he was on.

He said nothing when you sat down but he did keep his eyes on you. You swallowed thickly and then spoke, looking back at the fire, “I’m sorry, Harry. For all of it.”

The alcohol was really working your emotions. If you hadn’t been drinking you might have remained stubborn and ignored him, but somehow you just wanted to find peace with him, whatever that looked like.

Harry hummed and leaned forward toward the flame, looking directly into it.

You felt you should continue speaking, really drive the point home, “I mean it. I never wanted to hurt you by saying mean things.” You slurred and turned your head to look at the man and watched as he clenched his jaw and licked his lips, still looking at the fire.

You continued, “I was jealous. I think. Figured you liked you me, but…” your head was swimmy and you knew you were spilling too much information but your boozy brain felt this was a great idea, “… but then I saw the girl you were dating and she just… well, I was dumb for thinking you liked me like that.”

Harry turned his head to meet your gaze, his frown lines making their appearance.

You laughed, “Sorry. I know you don’t care about any of that. It’s not an excuse is it?” You sigh and cross your arms over your chest and look back into the fire to allow for a break from the gaze Harry was giving you.

“Cause I had a crush on you. It’s stupid. But I was jealous and I think that’s why I said it. I’m sorry. I just want to be friends, Harry, cause you were such a good friend. I won’t let my feelings get in way.”

Now, you had taken it a bit far. You didn’t really have deep feelings for him like that just made it sound, but you were feeling very emotional and sensitive with all the alcohol swimming through your bloodstream.

Harry was feeling similar. His own system overwhelmed by all the beer he’d had and hearing you say these things had made him warm to you.

Instead of responding with words, Harry scooted himself close to you and draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his solid side. You turned your head in toward him a little and got a whiff of his deodorant and his natural scent.

You hummed feeling pleased and happy. You were glad you could tell Harry all of these things. Now maybe things would be good between you two.

Minutes went by with Harry squeezing you into his side when he suddenly spoke, “Wish you’d have told me all that sooner. I did like you. Big crush. Hated that you thought I was shallow. That’s why my feelings were so hurt.”

You sat up straight, removing yourself from Harry’s side and turned to look at him, “A crush? On me? How?”

Harry just laughed as he saw your confused face, “What? Why are you surprised?”

You shook your head, “I just didn’t think… I don’t know. You’re so far out of my league…” you breathe out a laugh as you keep your eyes on Harry.

He sits quietly for a moment, his intense stare on you before he speaks, “Not true. You’re beautiful and funny. Wish I would have known.”

You both sat quiet for a bit. Dumbfounded. That was the word you could call yourself. You nodded and looked back toward the fire. You were right. He was into you. Was being the operative word. But still. It was something.

You didn’t know what else to say, nor did Harry. Both of you quite tipsy and a little emotional but still smart enough to table to conversation for another day. And also Harry had a girlfriend so there was no point in hashing any of that out.

You patted at your thighs and stood up, a little wobbly but you made do, “Think I’m gonna go to bed. Feeling a little tired.” You smiled down at Harry.

He stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll walk you in. M’tired too actually.”

Once you put your empty plastic cups in the garbage of the kitchen, the fluorescent lights had you sobering up a bit and you felt a little strange knowing what had just happened between you two.

Harry walked toward you in long strides and pulled you in for a tight hug, he kissed the top of your head and rocked you back and forth. You had not expected this.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I promise I’ll be nice from now on. Friends?” He let you go and looked down to you with a sweet grin on his dimpled face.

You nodded, “Friends.”

The following morning you had a hangover. It wasn’t a terrible one but it was still something that had you sluggish and slightly nauseated. Jenna was already gone from the room and when you looked at the digital clock on the nightstand it read 10:48 am.

You dragged yourself from the room and were glad to find the bathroom unoccupied. You took a fast shower and scrubbed yourself, emerging from the bathroom feeling much better.

Dan was in the kitchen cleaning up and when he saw you he laughed, “Look what the cat dragged in. It’s past a 11 am young lady. What do you think this is? Vacation?”

You gave him a half-hearted laugh as you grabbed one of the mugs that sat out and poured some coffee from the warm pot. You were very happy to see that coffee was still available.

“Just needed some extra sleep. Stayed up late.” You sat down on a stool at the kitchen island and Dan turned to face you fully, leaning over the counter to get a good look at you.

“I know you went to bed late. You and Harry were the last two. Always knew something was going on between you two.” He laughed and you nearly spit your coffee through your nose when you began choking on the sip you’d taken.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

Dan stood up and walked around the island to sit on the stool next to you, “Yeah. For a long time. You both act like you hate each other but everyone knows it’s the opposite. Just so you know, we’re all rooting for you two. I know Harry’s got a girlfriend but she’s probably more of just a placeholder until you come around and finally admit your feelings.”

You shove at Dan’s shoulder and roll your eyes, “Stop it. There’s never been anything going on between us.” You laugh. But his words have you in your head. Everyone knows? So all of your friends could see how Harry’s been treating you all this time but they never mentioned it?

Dan quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, “You two have been in love for a year now but your timing is so bad that it’s made you both resent one another for a while. Did you work it out last night at least?”

You breathe a puff of air out of your nose and look around you to make sure no one’s listening and you nod before looking back at Dan, “Sort of. I mean I apologized, and he apologized and we did admit some things, we were both drunk so… Anyway, it’s just good to be on better terms with him now.”

“Oooh, what did you admit to one another! Tell me!” He whispers, leaning in closer to you.

You shake your head and look down at your lap before taking a sip of your coffee and closing your eyes for a moment. Dan is so nosey.

“That we had feelings at one time. But that’s it. Now we can move on and just be nice to one another again.”

“Oh please. He’s still in love with you. And you obviously harbor some feelings for him. Look, just keep an open mind with him, okay? I know Natalia is coming in a few hours, but, ahh, never mind.” He looks away and over his shoulder.

You grasp his elbow, “Never mind, what?” Having Dan tell you all this is a revelation. You didn’t realize anyone paid any attention to you and Harry’s relationship. Now he’s got something else to say and he’s telling you Harry loves you (though Dan can be a bit dramatic)?

“I promised I wouldn’t say anything.” He shook his head and looked at you from the side with a sly smirk on his face. Dan was a gossip queen. He couldn’t keep a secret even if his life depended on it.

“You ass. Just tell me.” You turn your body to face him fully, waiting for him to speak.

“Harry wants to break up with Natalia but I don’t think he’ll do it here this weekend since she’s not really part of our friend group and that would be really embarrassing for her. I mean she is part of our friend group by proxy because of Harry and she’s nice and all, but you know. He’s not that cold-hearted.”

You release Dan’s elbow and ponder the idea of Harry breaking it off with Natalia. Does he really still have feelings for you? You find the idea preposterous.

Dan insisted you join the group for a boat ride. Your queasy tummy wanted to lay back down but after the shot of vodka Arthur forced you to take (hair of the dog and all) you actually stopped feeling queasy so you reluctantly joined everyone on the boat. You wore your cheeky coral bikini with a large white button up shirt as a swimsuit cover, leaving it unbuttoned.

When you finally got to the dock it was the first time you’d seen Harry since the night before. You both smiled at one another and the only spot open to sit was next to Harry. Dan leaned in to whisper to you as he helped you in the boat, “Well, guess you have no choice but to sit next to lover boy.”

You rolled your eyes. It felt like a setup. You took your spot on the plastic covered cushioned seat bench next to Harry.

Adam reached in the cooler and pulled out a beer, “Here, catch!” He tossed a can of beer to you and you caught it noticing that everyone else already had theirs. Harry’s was opened and he’s placed it in between his thighs, his legs spread just enough to keep it in place. You quickly averted your gaze to your own beer, cracking it open.

The water was smooth, which you were thankful for. Even though you weren’t feeling queasy anymore from your hangover you were concerned about motion sickness. But there was nothing to be concerned about. It was an amazing afternoon. Arthur had music playing, everyone had a beer or two, and when you’d gotten far enough out in the lake, Dan stopped to boat and everyone jumped into the water and swam around.

You and Harry hadn’t mentioned anything about the night before but it was obvious that it changed everything. You were both joking with one another like old times, and he pretty much stayed by your side the entire time. In the water he even started kind of flirting with you a bit. He’d dive under and grab your ankle, pulling you down. Or he’d splash at you.

All of your friends noticed that you and Harry were pretty much in your own world. When everyone had gotten back into the boat, except you and Harry you were using Harry’s body to hang on to as he swam around and you’d occasionally try to dunk his head. He finally turned around to face you and put his hands on your shoulders and flipped you around, but you hung on to his arm and it sort of turned into an underwater wrestling match with you two gasping for air as water sloshed all around and limbs flying every which way. Everyone was watching.

When you and Harry had settled down, both of you still hanging on to one another you looked up and everyone was already in the boat with their eyes on you two.

Harry saw everyone staring too and you both looked at one another and began laughing as you swam back to the boat.

Dan wanted to get back to make a late lunch for everyone and you and Harry sat squished side by side. The ride back was a little choppier so you were sporadically knocked into Harry a bit. You had your hand on the cushion of the seat between where you and Harry sat so you could steady yourself and when you felt Harry’s large palm cover the back of your hand you looked down between you two. He’d been trying to stabilize himself as well and he didn’t intend for his hand to cover yours but when it did, he liked how it felt and squeezed at you, slotting his fingers in between yours, keeping his hand in place. It wasn’t a traditional way to hold hands since his palm was over the back of your hand but it got you feeling butterflies.

When you got back to the dock, Harry helped you out and put his arm around your shoulder and you two were like old friends again.

“You’ve got a pimple on your left ass cheek by the way.” Harry whispered into your ear as you stepped onto the grass, his arm still over your shoulder.

You gasped and tried shoving him away but he just laughed and held on tighter, “No I don’t you perv! Why are you looking at my ass anyway?” You whisper back but then laugh when you look at his face and he’s grinning down at you.

He just looks at you for a moment and his smile doesn’t fade when he speaks, “Cause it’s pretty.”

You roll your eyes and laugh and Harry leans down to speak into your ear again just as you both see Natalia standing near the tree line, about fifteen feet away. Harry immediately removes his arm from your shoulder and walks toward Natalia who is looking between you and Harry with a frown. She’d seen you two exit the boat, saw the way you were too close and laughing, whispering to one another. She didn’t like this at all.

You waved at Natalia and made a beeline to the house. You were just going to pretend like it was nothing. Just friends having a good time. Because that’s all it really was. Right?

Harry hugged his girlfriend, “There you are! Glad you finally made it. How was the drive?” He hoped she didn’t think anything of what she just saw but he had planned on breaking up with her soon. And now that he knew you liked him at one time, well, he was going to finally shoot his shot once everything was said and done with Natalia.

“Uh, fine. It’s a long drive. Um… I didn’t think you really liked her.” Natalia gestured to you just as you were entering the house.

Harry scratched the back of his neck and blinked as he looked down at his bare feet, “Well, last night she apologized for something she said awhile back, before I met you, and then I apologized for being rude to her… Anyway, I think we’re on good terms now.” He smiled at his girlfriend. That wasn’t a lie. But he knew you and he were on good terms now, more than just good terms. You’d been flirting with one another most of the afternoon and he basically held your hand for a solid five minutes as the boat was headed toward the dock.

Lunch was something Dan quickly put together. Everyone sat out on the deck in the sun and ate while drinking spiked lemonade and sweet tea. You sat with Jenna who was whispering to you about how she thought you and Harry should just get together. It’s not like anyone didn’t like Natalia, it’s just that she was sort of new to the group and they didn’t know her that well.

“I saw him holding your hand. You two are like so cute. You hated each other for months and now all of the sudden you’re so buddy-buddy. Adam said that Harry told him he liked you. It was like six months ago or something but still. I think he still likes you.”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure. You would have liked for that to have been true, but you never wanted to get in over your head.

Natalia kept looking at you and Harry was doing his best to not. It became awkward. She was on guard now that she’d seen what she’d seen. Even with that, the rest of the day was relaxing. You got to finally enjoy reading in the hammock without being disturbed and you got a good chunk of the book finished.

Dinner was late and everyone at around the bonfire. You were sitting crisscross on a stump with a blanket covering your lap and you kept looking over at Harry and Natalia. Natalia had her head on his shoulder as she watched the fire, but you kept catching her eye. Finally you decided you needed to clear your mind. You couldn’t look at Natalia and Harry anymore. So you went into the house to get some water and pace a bit.

You were in the bedroom you shared with Jenna with a glass of water in hand, walking around the room when Harry suddenly entered, closing the door behind him. He stood at the door and gave you a soft smile. You stopped pacing.

“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, confused by his sudden presence.

Harry crossed the room to you and stopped just before he could do what it was he really wanted to do, and that was to pull you into his arms and kiss you.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He seemed concerned. He looked down at you and couldn’t help but notice how your neck was on display since you had your hair pulled back into a ponytail. He really wanted to kiss you neck.

“I’m fine. Just needed some water.” You lift the glass upward and then take another sip, keeping your eyes on him before lowering the glass back down.

“Okay. Can I tell you something?” His expression seemed a little pained. You weren’t sure what he was going to tell you but it had your heartrate increase.

You nod, “Of course, Harry.” You lick your lips.

“I’m going to break up with Nat. I like her but…” He looked down and then at the wall behind you, before putting his gaze back onto yours, “… I like you more, though. I kind of want to know if you like me too. Still.”

You were stunned by Harry again. But this time in a totally different way than you were yesterday. He likes you??

You open your mouth and scrunch your brows before swallowing, “I… yeah. After last night I do. After today on the boat.” You kept your eyes on his and his expression relaxed and his smile deepened. His dimples slicing into his cheeks. God he was attractive.

“Yeah? Fuck. That makes me so happy.” He stays stood in front of you, less than a foot away and you begin to smile back at him. You search his handsome face and when your eyes meet his you notice he’s looking at your mouth. You don’t mean to but you lick your lips and he licks his slowly before parting his mouth slightly.

He closes his mouth and clenches his jaw and reaches out for your free wrist, causing sparkles to singe your flesh up toward. You keep your eyes on his as he closes the space, pulling you lightly by your wrist. He drops your limb and then brings his hand up to your shoulder and dips down just a little, “I’m just gonna…” he says right before he pushes his lips to yours.

You hadn’t expected it. It caught you by surprise. Complete surprise. You felt faint and your heart was racing. You face grew hot as his lips melded into yours. The kiss didn’t last long, there was no tongue, but it was a promise of what was to come.

Harry straightened himself up and backed away, a lopsided grin on his face and you chuckled. He breathed out a laugh and held his finger up to you, “We’ll continue this later,” before backing up to the door and exiting.

You just stood with a dumb smile on your face, in a daze. You could still smell Harry, his soap lingering in the air. You blinked a few times before settling back into reality and drinking the rest of your water. You finally went back out to join everyone and when you sat on your stump, this time you noticed that Harry and Natalia weren’t sat as close, Natalia didn’t look very happy. You felt a bit of guilt.

The following day was similar to the previous one. Everyone went out on the boat, but you didn’t flirt and play around with Harry like you had the day before. You still had fun, though. Arthur brought a blow-up ball and everyone threw it around, hitting it and making splashes in the water. The cooler was full of drinks, good tunes playing, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the day. Except Natalia. She was hyper aware of how you and Harry kept gazing at one another. She didn’t miss it when Harry spoke to you, leaning down and putting his hand around the back of your arm. She also noted that Harry was not as warm toward her since she arrived.

At dinnertime with everyone on the deck, Harry had been a bit tipsy and was kind of playing around, swaying his hips and dancing to the music. He grabbed at your arm, pulled you up and swung you around to dance with him. You laughed and twirled with him like an idiot, and then he dragged you in tight to his body, he looked down at you with a goofy, boozy grin, hooded eyes and just as he was about to speak, Natalia grabbed his arm to get his attention.

“H, can I talk to you?” Harry was suddenly aware of what he was doing. He was in a bit of an alcohol haze and your presence was getting to him. He nearly forgot Natalia was here.

“Sure.” He looked down at you before releasing your body and walked away with Natalia.

You didn’t see either of them until the bonfire. You had barely gotten to enjoy the warmth of the fire when Natalia was tapping on your shoulder and ducking down to speak to you, “Can you come over there with me for a sec? Just wanna ask you something.”

You followed her to the edge of the tree line and kept your expression serious. You’d been a bit tipsy but you knew she was upset, you could tell that much.

“Do you like Harry?” Her question was odd. Of course you’d say you like Harry. He’s your friend after all, but you knew the meaning of the word like in this sentence wasn’t meant to be taken in the way you’d like a friend.

But you decided to play dumb, “Of course I do. We’ve been friends for a couple of years now.” You tried to remain calm. You knew she’d dig deeper.

She breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “You know what I mean. I see how you look at him. Do you have a crush on my boyfriend?” Now she had her arms crossed over her chest and her stance was rigid. Should you confess or deny?

“Well, I mean, not… No. Because he’s got a girlfriend. So… no.” You were the worst liar there was. You could barely get the sentence out.

“I don’t know you that well, but I don’t believe you. Please, just stay away from him, okay? I know he’s attractive and can be flirty but, I don’t know. Just, please?”

You nod and stay quiet. You felt awful. Harry had kissed you and you kissed him back. If Natalia wasn’t here you’d be flirting too. Maybe more.

Natalia left it at that but when you got back to the bonfire, she was nowhere to be seen. It was just Harry and the rest of your friends. Harry gave you a look that seemed like a question but you just smiled. You’d keep your distance to keep the peace.

But Harry didn’t want to keep his distance. He sat next to your stump, crouching down next to you, “What did she say?”

“She basically told me to stay away from you.” You looked down at Harry. His hair was a bit of a mess from the way it dried after being in the water, all fluffy and wild curls, somehow making him even more attractive as you imagined running your fingers through his thick hair.

“Well, that’s not gonna fucking happen. You’re my friend. I’ve known you a lot longer than I’ve known her. Fuck.”

As you two were looking at one another and speaking, Natalia walked out of the house to find Harry crouched down near you, his hand very close to your thigh. She walked closer and kept herself quiet. She could hear your conversation when she was stood only a few feet from the two of you.

Harry wasn’t speaking loudly but he wasn’t keeping his voice at a whisper, mostly because of the alcohol and the music was just loud enough that he wanted to speak over it.

“I have to break up with her. I don’t think I’ll do it here, though. That would be shitty. Would you want to go out with me when I break up with her?”

“Fuck you, Harry! Fuck you! Why did you have me come here if this is what was going on? Huh? You’re an asshole. I’ll save you the trouble of breaking up with me so you can just go and be with her.” She pointed at you with a scowl on her face and tears breaking over her cheeks.

She jogged off to the house and Harry stood up and ran after her. It wasn’t long after that Natalia was headed to her car and stuffing her bag into the backseat. She was upset and they were arguing. She left quickly and it made you feel awful.

Harry just stood by the driveway with his hands on his hips as he watched her drive off. You looked around at everyone else and all eyes were on you.

“What?!” You look at everyone.

Patty snorted, “He’s single now, babe. Go get him.”

You shook your head, “He literally just broke up with his girlfriend. I don’t know that this is the best timing. Come on…” You huffed.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Harry making his way back to the group. He didn’t seem too upset or sad. But that’s because he wasn’t. Now he was free to flirt with you and kiss you all he wanted.

He stood directly behind your stump, put his hands on your shoulders and spoke, “Hey guys. Sorry about that. Anyone need another drink? I’m about to go get one. Think I deserve one after that.” He laughs.

Adam and Arthur say they’d like another beer and then Jenna says she’d like a vodka with Sprite but then she adds looking at you, “Hey, maybe you can go help him with all the drinks.” She winks.

Harry squeezes at your shoulder and you look up at him, “Come on.” He says quietly.

You stand up and Harry takes your hand in his and you follow him into the house. As soon as the door is closed behind you Harry has you pinned to the wall with his mouth on yours. This time there is tongue and plenty of slobber. Your head is spinning and Harry presses his body to yours tightly and moans.

“Wanted to do this for ages…” he speaks in between pecks on your lips. You put your hands up over his neck and lick into his mouth with your tongue and you moan.

“Me too…” you respond in a breath. You slide a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and Harry drags one of his hands over your side and with the other he holds your hip tightly.

Your kiss gets hotter and hotter by the second, more frantic, less aware, more desperate… You bump into the side table and a little figurine gets knocked over and Harry lifts his mouth from yours and grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him into the bedroom he’d been occupying. He closes the door and locks it and then pulls you back into his body, his mouth lapping at yours.

You push at him a bit and lean back, Harry’s still holding your body close to his, “We were supposed to get drinks…mmmph…” Harry pushes his lips back onto your and moves you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to stumble back a bit, your bottom falling into the comforter.

Harry looks down at you with a smile and shakes his head as he climbs over you, causing you lie back, “Don’t care. They can get their own drinks. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years and now that I finally can I’m not stopping. Plus, they’re all aware we’re not going back out there tonight.” He pushed you down and smoothed his lips back over yours.

You were spinning from his lips and from the situation. It was so strange. To have him like this. It was happening so fast but at the same time, it had taken years to get to this point.

Harry slotted his hips in between your legs and lowered his crotch over yours. You gasped at the feeling of him, solid under his jeans, pressing right into you. You opened your eyes and looked him with your mouth parted, heavy breaths falling from your mouth. You knew in that moment that this wasn’t going to be ending with just a kiss. This was going to finalize everything between you two once and for all and you were ready to get down to it with him.

Harry put a hand up over your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek bone, “You’re so beautiful. Want you to be mine, okay?”

You nod and slip your hands over his shoulders and he leans back down to you in a hot kiss. You wiggle under him, ready to lose some of your clothes, though you were just in a bikini and button up shirt. You swiftly pull your shirt off and lay back. Harry knees up and removes his own t-shirt. His chest was so well defined and all the tattoos littering his tanned skin made your mouth water. He was so fucking sexy.

Harry rubbed a hand down over your waste and over your tummy, looking down at your body under him. You could see his erection pushing at his jeans so you reached down to unbutton his pants, give him a little space to breathe.

“You want me to take off my jeans, baby?” Harry squinted at you with a smirk and you nodded.

He pushed himself up and stood by the bed, removing his jeans so he was only wearing a pair of white boxers. Now his cock was well outlined, you could see how thick and long he appeared from under the fabric. You gulped. He looked quite yummy.

Harry climbed back onto the bed in between your legs and rubbed at your thighs and over your hips. You leaned up on your elbows and watched him touch over your soft skin for a moment. You bit your lip before speaking, knowing you were pushing it with what you were about to say but you were already slick between your legs for him and he was clearly in the same boat with his large erection.

“Do you have a condom, Harry?” His eyes quickly darted up to yours and you could see him swallow heavy.

He nodded, “Yes. You want… do you want to have sex?” He wasn’t completely sure you’d want it. He wanted it but he didn’t want to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was just his overwhelming presence, but you were as horny as you’d ever been and you’d imagined what this moment would be like for a long time. You wanted nothing more than to have him fuck you.

“I do. Want you to fuck me, Harry.” Harry moaned and swallowed again before hopping up and finding his bag, pulling a box out and bringing it to the bed. He climbed back into his spot between you legs and begin to kiss you again. You pulled him down over you and when his cock was heavy over your fabric covered center you both groaned. He began to rock his hips a bit, to feel your warmth under him.

You wrapped your legs around him and rutted your hips up to meet his hips. “Fuck me now, Harry. Just do it.”

Harry pushed himself up and looked down at you, “Y’sure? Now? Don’t want me to suck on your clit a little bit first?” He licked his lips and looked down at your smooth body.

“Later maybe. I just want to be fucked right now. By you. Please.”

Harry didn’t need a lot of direction. He knelt up and put his fingers into the band of your bikini bottoms at your hips and raised his brows, “Can I take these off then? Gonna need them off if I’m gonna fuck you.”

You laugh and nod. Harry swiftly removes the material and coos when he sees your pussy for the first time. You’re beautiful and so wet for him already. Harry quickly gets up and removes his boxers before he’s back on the bed and removing a condom from the package.

Your eyes are on his cock. It’s going to feel so good inside of you and you moan and the notion. “My god, Harry…” you can’t help it when you speak. He’s so big and perfect. You’d always wondered how big he was. You knew hew as hung because you’d known him for a while and you’d seen him in a few compromising situations, plus Arthur teased Harry about his huge dick a few times. But this was everything and more. He was going to finally fuck you with that big dick and you couldn’t contain your excitement.

Harry put the condom over his shaft and then brought a hand down to your labia, swiping two fingers through your arousal and he huffed a laugh out, “So fucking wet already. You do want to be fucked don’t you?”

You shifted yourself to get into position and Harry followed you as you nodded and sighed. Harry slipped a hand behind your back to look for the clasp on your bikini top but he struggled to find it. You sat up and quickly plucked the band, causing the top to come down. Harry panted a heavy breath and ducked down to your tits, pushing you back down into the mattress and began sucking and kissing your nipples. You lifted your hips up toward Harry, needing him inside of you before you exploded but he just laughed and lowered his cock so it was sat in between your folds, hot and wide.

When he lifted his mouth from your breasts he kept a hand at your face, rubbing your cheek and then with his other hand he tilted himself so that his tip was nudging at your pussy. You spread wider for him and he dipped in to kiss you and as he lowered his mouth to yours, he pushed in. Once he he’d bottomed out his mouth was already licking into yours, moaning out at the feeling of you around him. He began to sway his hips into yours, back and forth. The feel of his cock dipping deep and expanding your pussy to make way for his girth caused you to yelp.

“Shit, Harry! That feels so good!” You suck in a sharp breath as he continues pushing into you, the bed rocking under his cadence.

Harry grasped your thighs and brought your legs up so you’d wrap them around his bum. You crossed your ankles together and felt him press deep into you. You were so wet he wasn’t met with much resistance anymore.

“Gonna need your pussy all the time, baby. You okay with that?” Harry breathes out hard as he thrusts faster into you. His hair flopping over his forehead.

“God, yes!”

There weren’t too many words between you two after that. It was a series of deep and long strokes, grunts and high-pitched moans, wet skin slapping together, and the bed making the loudest rhythmic ruckus of all. There was no headboard to hit into the wall, but the frame was metal and it was cheap. The unlubricated screws and metal pieces all screeching together, the springs in the mattress, also old, making a nice gentle squeak each time Harry fucked down into your wet cunt.

Your breathing increased as did your moans. You intended on keeping your moaning to a minimum in case any of your friends came back into the house to look for you (which they of course did eventually) but Harry was making you feel so good. The sticky sound of Harry’s cock plunging into your sopping entrance over and over and over again was witness to the way you were gone for him. He had you so turned on your body was vibrating.

But Harry was vibrating just the same. His balls were squeezing into his body as he neared his end. He increased the pace at which he fucked into you and everything around you spun. You cried out at the way he poked deep into your insides and then he continued, making you cry at each deep nudge.

“Yes, right there, Harry. Right there, fuckk… yess!!” You were so close and now you were babbling and Harry was only encouraged more, fucking you harder, faster so you could really feel him. His stomach was twisting and he was about to come.

“Gonna come on my cock, huh? S’that feel good?” He was destroying your guts, his cock so thick and long, disturbing what had been untouched for quite some time. His wide dick pressing into you, spreading your soft walls at each thrust, it felt like this was meant to be.

Patty and Adam had come back in to get their own drinks. They assumed you and Harry were probably discussing what would happen next, now that Natalia was out of the picture, maybe you two were even making out and that’s why you never returned with the drinks. They hadn’t expected you two to be loudly fucking, though. Like, obviously fucking. There was no misinterpreting the sound.

“Holy shit. He’s giving it to her good.” Patty laughed. Adam shook his head and pulled Patty to the kitchen so they could hurry to grab the drinks and get out of there.

And he was giving it to you good. Your orgasm bathed your body in tingles and white heat. You cried out Harry’s name and gasped as he continued pummeling into you.

Harry gritted his teeth and grunted as you began throbbing over him with your own orgasm. He watched your face for a moment so he could see you and that was all it took for his end to knock into him. He groaned out in a deep whine and gripped at your hip as he stilled himself, coming into his condom.

When you opened your eyes, Harry was lying on his side next to you with his eyes closed. You brushed some of the hair away from his face and moved in to kiss his lips. He puckered his own lips and the feel of yours on his and he smiled before opening his tired eyes.

“Y’wanna be my girlfriend? I know it’s fast, but fuck it.” He gave you a lopsided grin.

You slid your hand over his shoulder and smiled humming a yes to him.

You both continued to lie in bed and stare at each other. The weekend had turned out so much differently than either of you expected. It was certainly far less relaxing overall than you planned but there wasn’t any part of you that was disappointed in the outcome. You’d been pining for Harry for a long time.

Harry softly kissed your lips and snorted a laugh, “I guess that was a yes?”

“Yes, Harry. I want to be your girlfriend.” You rolled your eyes at him.

Harry kissed you again and then brought his head back so he could look at you, “Good. Means we get to do this more often.”

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@michellekstyles

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vintagevict0ria · 4 months

Text

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

“You brush past me in the hallway…”

chapter 1

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader

content: n/a

a/n: omg i am soooooo excited for this you have no idea. Its been so long since i posted and this idea has been stuck in my drafts since july and since im back in my Adam driver era- id thought id finish this. This is mostly inspired by Taylor Swifts song "I can see you" and each chapter will be based on a lyric! So i am no expert on how film/actor/movie stuff works so bear with me. Hopeful as this goes on, it will get better. Im planning on finishing this by the new year (who knows if that will happen) but since im on break i should take advantage of my free time. Ok long story short I will be writing this shit non stop since im on a writing high so who knows if the next chapter will come out tommorow! Hope you enjoy! Notes are greatly appreciated!!

Y/n, a famous actress known for her beautiful face and captivating personality but also her incredible acting skills. You had been nominated for over 50 awards and won 5 oscars. It had been a while since you were on a set nor a movie. The last film was a roaring success and the critics were crazy about it! The media begged for another film starring Y/N Y/L/N.

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of your phone ringing. Your agent- Carolina, was calling. You quickly answered- yawning and hoping she wouldn’t hear it. “Y/n! Great news!” You sighed, not really understanding what was happening. “You got the job!” The job? what is she talking about? “huh?” You rubbed your eyes, laying back down. “The movie!! Adam Driver is in it too! Oh my gosh i can hear them now! ‘Y/n y/l/n and Adam Driver are co-stars in the biggest hit of the year!” Once you heard his name, you sprung up “Wait what?” “Yeah! They want you here in LA by tomorrow morning. I’ve already booked you a flight to leave in..5 hours! Bye!” She hung up before you could say another word. You glanced over at the clock- 9:35. The flight was at 2:15 and it would take a while to pack and get ready. So, being the smart woman you are, you got up and started the day. Showering, packing, and of course- stopping to get starbucks.

Once you arrived in LA, you headed to the condo where you would be staying for a majority of filming. That morning you woke up and started getting ready for the day. Showering, and making a coffee before you headed out to the table read. You threw on a pair of leggings and a tshirt. It was late autumn so you took a jacket on the way out. At the studio you said hello to the crew and a huge thank you to the casting director. “Y/n!” It was Carolina- she ran up to you and embraced you in a tight hug. “How was the flight?” You smiled at the redhead girl “Great.” Carolina jumped up and down with excitement and handed you sheets of paper. On the cover was the name of the film, the name of the director-JJ Abrams- and your name. “Heres your script. You need to go ahead and head in there! Bye!” She walked away, the sound of her heals clicked across the floor. You quickly skimmed through the pages while walking and not paying attention. You soon enough ran into someone, your coffee spilling over you and the floor along with your script- which was on the floor…covered in coffee. “Oh gosh Im so sorry!” You apologized while picking up your script, wincing at the wet paper. “You might want to watch where you are going next time.” The voice was soft but stern. You looked up and realized it was Adam Driver.

He was wearing all black and his hair was messy. He glanced at you with a subtle stare. “Im so sorry!” You stood up, brushing yourself off. “No worries, happens to the best of us.” He rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck, closing his eyes. Damn he was attractive. ”You headed in?” You asked, trying to keep your composure together. Adam simply just nodded.

The first day of the read consisted of going over the aspects of the film and the time line of production. After the read through, filming would start, then the movie premiere would take place after filming and production in Hollywood, but that was a whiles away. When the read was over you walked out with another co star. Heading to your condo, you received a text from Carolina. "Girl, just talked to JJ and he just gave me word that there is a sex scene between you and Adam 😁" The stupid emoji at the end made you cringe. Carolina giving you this news shot your nerves through the roof. As if you weren't already nervous enough about working with Adam, having to film a intimate scene made it far worse. Kicking your shoes off and falling onto your bed, you opened instagram, an attempt to get your mind of the situation at hand, it didn't work.

#Spotify #adam driver #adam driver x reader #actor au #smut #fluff #angst #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #adam driver angst #taylor swift #i can see you

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nico-di-genova · 2 days

Text

Post Shanghai Strollonso

A/N: I am coping well, in case you couldn’t tell :)

“Fuck!” Lance yells once he’s back in the safety of his drivers room, letting out the expletive with a breath he’s been holding since he first climbed out of the car and was cast familiar looks by staff. Not the pity, or the mildly impressed arch of an eyebrow that had come last year, when he’d had to use all of his willpower to pull himself out of the car with his wrists on fire and tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. But instead it was the usual cool indifference, the barely hidden smirk, the look that told him he should probably just avoid social media for the next few days - prepare for the meeting with his team where statements, and image, and body language were the terms of the day.

“Fuck!”

His race suit is low on his hips, sleeves brushing the floor because he’s too lazy to bother tying them around his waist, but it still feels too hot. Still feels like he can’t breathe. Even with the AC in the room blasting, even with the damp towel he’s got wrapped around his neck. He knows it’s not the heat at all, but he still fights to strip off the fireproof undershirt that’s clinging to his skin anyway.

He pulls at the neck of it, rubs at his Adam’s apple, the soft spot under his jaw, until the buzzing in his ears subsides enough that he can peel the sweat soaked nomex off of him with desperate fingers.

“Fuck!” He yells again, because the shape of the word feels nice on his tongue and the sound of it in the quiet space makes the ache in his chest hurt a little less.

His skin is red, flushed with heat and his own frustration, his fingers leave white flashes of colorless indentions when he presses them to his chest and tries to still the quickening beat of his own heart. Post race adrenaline, he tells himself, even as he knows the truth of it.

‘That weird incident’ comes the journalists voice playing on repeat in his head, along with the whir of the AC and the rapid pace of his own heart.

His front wing going up the ass of Riccardo’s visa-cashapp-Red-Bull-toro-rosso-whatever-the-fuck. Him looking away for one fucking millisecond at the apex and then turning back to find himself sending Daniel into the air.

Idiot.

He’s not sure if he means himself or Daniel anymore, is certain he knows who the internet will be directing the term at. Despite the fact that he’d tried to brake, slammed on the pedal so fast that his body had jerked with force of it. Hadn’t mattered in the end because he’d made contact anyway and that would be enough to cement the barrage of comments he’s sure will be flooding the Aston Martin Instagram any second now. At least there’s dependability in that.

The pressure in his chest isn’t fading, it’s spreading and making a home in the pit of his stomach. He presses a hand to his abdomen, the other to his collarbone, tries to breathe slowly even if it catches in his throat. In through his nose, out through his mouth, choke on the taste of it and start over again.

Sometimes he thinks it would be easier just to let himself vomit, hyperventilate until he’s dry heaving over the toilet, his body seizing with the force of it. Press his forehead to the cool porcelain to maybe ease some of the heat roiling off his body, sit there until someone came to pull him to the debrief and he’s forced to pack it all back away.

But right now he’s not sure if he’d even make it to the bathroom, knows it’s not vomit that would come up anyway, just his own bitter disappointment. He’s not sick, he’s just a screwup. There’s no amount of surgery or PT or encouraging words that are going to fix that.

His breath catches in his throat again. Loud, weak.

“Fuck,” he cries, this time feels the sting of tears that accompanies it.

He presses harder on his collarbone, moves to the soft skin of his neck, digs his fingernails in until there’s the pinprick warning of pain and then collapses down onto the couch behind him with enough force that it forces air back into his lungs. He keeps a hand to his neck, trails his thumb along his carotid.

It helps, gives him something to focus on other than the rattling feeling of his teeth clacking together when he’d hit Daniel.

The knock on his door, when it comes, is almost expected. Quiet, unsure, followed by Fernando saying his name.

“I’m here,” Lance forces out around the lump in his throat, hates how pathetic he sounds.

“Coming in,” Fernando warns before he’s opening the door, sliding through the crack big enough for his lithe frame, and then closing it behind him just as fast. It’s not the first time someone from the team would see him slinking in. Fernando doesn’t care, he only cares that they don’t see Lance. Pathetic and miserable as he must look.

He’s not crying yet, which feels like a plus. But he knows from how Fernando looks at him he must not appear entirely put together either.

“You are okay?” And he means the crash, it is always the first thing he asks, because the one time he didn’t Lance was hiding bruised ribs that were already turning his skin a dark purple.

“Yeah,” Lance breathes, tries to, grimaces when the word comes out strangled by his own incompetence. “It was small.”

Fernando would have seen the footage by now, playing on repeat in the media pen similar to the loop in Lance’s head. He would be able to assess that his inability to breathe properly stemmed not from the pain, but from the noise in his own head.

Lance presses harder at the soft skin of his neck, tries to stop the rising tide of static that is building in his ears so he can focus on the way Fernando sighs his name. He likes how he says his name, likes that it doesn’t come with any sort of expectation, or disappointment.

“Come here,” Fernando commands, grabs Lance’s hand that had been rubbing absentmindedly at his stomach, tracing patterns over bare skin, and pulls until Lance is sitting up on the couch.

“It is okay,” he promises as he inserts himself between Lance’s knees, holds the back of Lance’s head as it slumps forward to rest against Fernando’s abdomen.

Lance swallows, tries, blinks back tears.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. At this point the word has become as familiar to him as the expletives he’s fond of shouting in his empty drivers room. It comes easy in the space between them, hidden in the comfort of Fernando’s embrace. Easier here, where he knows it cannot be used against him, than to the microphones that had been demanding it.

Fernando doesn’t acknowledge the apology, instead he just presses his palm to the nape of Lance’s neck until the warmth of his touch forces Lance to feel something other than his own crushing ineptitude. His fingers are rough, calloused, where they find the soft skin and baby hairs, Lance pushes himself further back against them.

He’s got his arms wrapped around his body, hands tucked under his biceps, one protectively covering the tattoo at his ribs, the raw spot aching with the ghost of a needle and teenage nativity. His stomach still hurts, his chest is still tight. Like he’s got the full effect of g-forces still pressing on him and he can’t quite get the air into his lungs. The tears haven’t fallen yet, but he can feel them beading on his lashes when he tries to blink them away.

“Just breathe,” Fernando demands, thumb finding the hollow spot behind his ear, where his jaw gave way to muscle and vein, and pressing.

Lance stutters in a breath, swallows again, nods his head so Fernando knows he’s listening. That he’s trying.

“It is over.”

Lance wishes that were true, wishes he could close his eyes without seeing Daniel’s rear wheels come off the track. Wishes he could take back his own impulsive radio message because it will be nothing but fuel to the fire. Wishes Daniel would text him back, or hit him, anything to snap him out of this muddled headspace he’s found himself in.

“It’s over, Lance. In the past.”

“I tried to stop,” he hates how small his voice sounds, whiney, strangled. Nothing like Fernando’s and nothing like the usual indifference he shoots for. It makes him feel small. His hands wrap more tightly around his sides, his knees pull closer to his chest as he curls tighter in on himself.

“No, tesoro, come on.”

Fernando follows him, kneels until he can take either side of Lance’s neck in his hands and hold him up enough that Lance has no choice but to meet his steady gaze. There’s grey in his eyebrows, in his beard, age in the lines of his face that make Lance feel even smaller.

“I fucked up,” he cries, and this time the tears do fall, trail down his cheeks until Fernando wipes them away with the pad of his thumb.

“This race, yes. So you go to the next one.”

“I’ll just fuck that up too.”

“Maybe not. Maybe you win.”

The laugh that Lance lets out is stifled only by his own sob.

Fernando’s lips quirk up, “No? You don’t think so?”

“Not unless half the grid gets appendicitis.”

“Or food poisoning,” Fernando says suggestively, light in his eyes, mischief in his smile.

Lance laughs again, feels the rumble of it when Fernando’s hands cradle his neck tighter. But then he thinks about how Daniel has left him on read and the laughter dies in his throat. He thinks of future awkward FaceTime calls with Scotty and a cold shoulder from his sister and something icy twists inside him. His stomach hurts all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again.

Fernando’s smile shifts to something smaller, “is okay,” he promises before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Lance’s.

Not for the first time, Lance finds himself yearning for Bahrain. Not this year, but last. The way that when he’d come sixth it may as well have been a podium with how the team reacted. How they smiled at him and it felt like the closest he’d come to tasting champagne in a while. How Fernando had praised him and it felt like winning the championship. He never could tell if it was the pain meds or his own euphoria that made everything seem brighter that night. By the time he woke up the next morning his wrists were so sore it felt like he’d snapped them all over again and so Bahrain had become nothing more than a sweet taste at the back of his throat that he would forever remember the aftertaste of but never the full flavor.

“Should break my wrists again, maybe then we’d get a podium” he says, before he can think to keep that inside his own head, knowing it’s the wrong thing to say when Fernando tenses.

“Sorry. Joke. My bad.”

“Not funny.”

Lance isn’t really sure he meant it to be funny at all. Instead, he’s thinking about how easy it would be to replicate the accident. Take Fernando’s stupid little scooter and trip it over a crack in the pavement, let himself fall and land at the same angle. He’s thinking about the singleminded focus that had come with trying to keep his car under his control with pain killers in his system and fire in his veins. How there had been an almost startling clarity to it.

“Could be your hero again,” he teases, even as a small part of him means it, misses Fernando’s praise even if it’s still something he gets freely.

Fernando scowls, “You still are.”

“I wasn’t looking when I hit him. I was looking at the stupid apex.”

“And? You are both okay, yes? So it is over.”

But it isn’t, because Lance has been here countless times before, keeps landing here. In Singapore when he’d split the car in two. In Jeddah when he’d clipped the wall then been asked to bring his lifeless car back to the pit. Narrowly avoided it all in Suzuka. Either the universe has it out for him or theres something wrong with him. Lance is beginning to lean toward the latter, beginning to believe some of the toxic shit he’s managed to catch glimpses of online before the functioning part of his brain has enough sense to close out of Twitter.

Fernando wipes away the fresh wave of tears, but it isn’t enough. Lance is hungry, desperate to rid himself of the ache in his gut and the pain in his chest and the hole in his heart that searches for that last bit of champagne in a bottle that’s run long dry. He’s tired too. Wants it all to end. Wants to sink into Fernando’s arms and be told that he’s doing a good job and for it to not be a lie.

Stupid fucking apex, stupid fucking breaks, stupid fucking safety car.

Fernando pulls him closer and Lance goes, lets himself be guided to the crook of Fernando’s neck and held there while he sobs. Both of them ending up curled up on the floor, Fernando’s fingers trailing a path up and down the notches of his spine.

Fernando twists enough to press a kiss to Lance’s temple and he sobs harder. The softness of it all, kindness from a man who owes him none, makes him sick all over again. He wants to be hit, but Fernando only holds him like he is worth holding and it’s cracking something inside Lance.

Something in him has maybe broken, more than his wrists.

“It will be okay.” Fernando keeps promising.

Lance wants so badly to believe him. He thinks Fernando would keep repeating it until he does. Both of them stubborn, both of them unyielding. Lance fears it will eventually land them both in the wall, fears he’ll be the one to send them there. He hates that he’s old enough to have fears now.

Everything is so much easier when you’re seventeen.

“What do I do?” He cries against Fernando’s neck, the warmth of him, the strong scent of him that Lance has smelled in sheets and pillows and the hoodies he sometimes stretches out to force his way into. Like a panther that’s confused itself with a kitten, or a pampered lapdog the size of a Great Dane. Fernando’s been buying larger sizes out of expectation that Lance will eventually ferret the clothing away from him.

“Right now you just breathe. We deal with the rest later.”

“Danny hasn’t texted me back,” he maybe won’t ever, floor damage and a dnf might have been the final thing to sever whatever feeble string kept them on speaking terms.

Fernando keeps trailing a hand up and down Lance’s back, pauses at the nape of his neck to soothe at the skin there, waits until Lance relaxes marginally before he resumes his slow track back down Lance’s spine. The pattern, repetitive in its nature, is helping.

“Just breathe, Lance. For now, this is all.”

He breathes, it hurts to do so, but he manages. He’s become good at that, managing. His expectations, his emotions, everything but his view of himself and the way that everything he manages comes crumbling down the second he messes up. So maybe he isn’t actually managing at all.

“Lance,” Fernando says, hard-edged when he hears Lance’s breathing stutter again.

“Sorry.”

“No more sorry. No more thinking, yes? Just you and me.”

Lance finds the fabric of Fernando’s undershirt, grabs fistfuls of it so the world can maybe become a little more real, his head a little less floaty. Fernando makes a pleased sound.

“I am here,” Fernando promises.

He feels just as real as Lance’s hands on the wheel had, just as solid as the barrier, as Daniel’s silent, steely, anger. Lance’s grip tightens, keeps tightening until Fernando becomes more real than anything else. Until he can feel the floor of the driver’s room pressing hard against his knees and has enough sense to complain about it.

Until he can breathe and Fernando’s hand at the nape of his neck becomes a grounding point.

Later, in the debrief, he wears Fernando’s hoodie. Aston Martin green and tight on his shoulders. He pulls at the hem of it, breathes in the scent of it, thinks about Miami. He’s told to stay off of socials. And his chest tightens, until Fernando’s hand finds his under the table. A thumb tracing the ridges of his knuckles.

“I’m not the TikTok guy anyway,” he jokes, tries to anyway.

Fernando smiles, “Too old for it?”

“Nah, not cool enough.”

And what he maybe means is never enough. Means that Fernando is good at pleasing a crowd, drawing an audience, doing all the things Lance just can’t seem to get right. But Fernando knows that, which is why he squeezes Lance’s hand tighter- why he doesn’t let go.

“I think you are.”

Lance supposes that’s enough.

#strollonso #strollonso fic #my fic #is this even anything?#idk I’m still just trying to get out my feelings #written in my notes app in like a 2 hour time span so ignore the typos

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copsecore · 9 months

Text

BONUS LORE FROM THE 3 YEAR CHANNELVERSARY STREAM

^^from the quiz bonus round!

(for all you other Lore Addicts (TM))

1. What was Adam’s last name? - Jessup

2. What is Sam’s formal title within the House of Solaire? - Duke

3. Who does William consider his “main rival” for throwing the best Monarchal Summit? - The House of Pham

4. Who was the last of the Shaw Pack boys to get their driver’s license? - Milo

5. Who was originally planned to be a part of the Past/Present flashback event, but was cut? - Blake

6. What segment of D.U.M.P does James fall under? - EDICT

7. What was Regulus’ name originally going to be? - Fornax

8. Seers exist because of what other magical race? - Vampires

9. What recipe was Gabe famous for? - Chili

10. What is the name of the next new character to be released? - Hush

#this stream was so fun wtf #i’ve been watching for the whole three years :3 #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted erik #redacted lore #mutuals come in here and get y’all lore! /ref #@epsi_l0n

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1000roughdrafts · 2 months

Note

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers.

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her.

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her.

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying.

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly.

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?"

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car."

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -"

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?"

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!"

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four.

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?"

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy."

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?"

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!"

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly.

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge.

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles.

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday."

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way.

"Yeah," Sam nods.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word.

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?"

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?"

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls.

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking.

Sam huffs, "Who's that?"

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N.

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead.

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..."

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again.

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it.

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam.

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!"

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that."

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips.

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge.

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him.

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks.

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know."

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on.

"What the-," Dean says.

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks.

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them.

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing.

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge.

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?"

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water.

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her.

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him.

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!"

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit.

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing."

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him.

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest.

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead.

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static.

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths.

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away.

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest.

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue.

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him.

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop."

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N.

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest.

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again.

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor.

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be."

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits.

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks."

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start."

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks.

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods.

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters.

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat.

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N.

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-"

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N.

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers.

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head.

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation."

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge."

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me."

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags <3

@wayardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @signrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Dean <;3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @chaospossum @nachofriess

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#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan fic #little sister Winchester #angst #supernatural dean winchester #sister!winchester #3rd person pov

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lifewithdavefarts · 9 months

Text

DaveFarts - Episode 24 “Windy Mountain”[Episode List]

Another summer, another camping trip for our heroes… and an even smaller tent than last time. On the mountain, the sounds of nature finally meet their match as Dave’s farts reach new heights in terms of loudness and power.

POV: Tim

Windy Mountain “Rise and shine, bro!”

I was woken up by a sudden thunder, a thunder which was accompanied by a peculiar scent. Considering how I could see a clear blue sky outside (somebody opened the window in my room), as my eyes adjusted to the light I recognised Dave’s ass in a pair of white basketball shorts hovering over me, effortlessly erupting a powerful morning blast directly on my face.

I probably woke up halfway through the rip, which was already around 10 seconds long. A short morning fart, for my friend’s high standards. The stench hit me and triggered my flight or fight response, effectively waking me up more efficiently than any alarm clock could. I pushed my friend’s ass away (as he kept farting), trying to remember what year it was.

“Alright, alright. I’m awake!”

Dave turned around and greeted me with a smile.

“Come on, we’re right on schedule.” he stated.

“Should I thank you or your ass?”

Dave simply looked up, making a funny facial expression, and ripped a quick loud one.

“Yes.” he simply replied, and left the room.

Those were natural, not even on command, but honestly who could tell the difference? Dave always had a fart ready, like you could ask him out of the blue to rip one and he’d probably be more than happy to go beyond your wildest expectations. One of his many talents: the incredible farts are like the cherry on top of this wonderful friend I’m lucky to have, a cherry that pleases my embarrassing and disgusting kink, a kink that, for some reason, my bud is completely okay with, getting some good immature laughs every time he teases me.

Like last year, the four of us (the other two being Greg and Adam) decided to get in touch with nature and go camping for a couple of days, like the hypocrite city slickers that we are. However, we’re pretty good at planning stuff like this, making sure it won’t interfere with our respective jobs and whatnot.

As Dave told me earlier, we were indeed right on schedule: it wasn’t even 6:00 AM and he was ready, a role-reversal compared to the last time we went camping, as I’m usually the one who hates being late. A quick shower, some casual clothes and I too was ready, just a shirt and pair of black shorts, whereas Dave was sporing a grey t-shirt and his signature, “summer style” camo cargo shorts which, given the context, immediately triggered my kinky ass as I just remembered how my friend mercilessly blasted me in our tent last year while wearing those.

I hated… that I fuckin’ loved it.

While farting wasn’t by far our main topic of discussion (believe it or not), I like to think that Dave too remembers… because he’s just a nice mixture of “the best bro you could ever ask for” and “your worst bully”. Or, much more realistically, he just doesn’t remember because while he does find the act of teasing me utterly hilarious, it’s not like our lives revolve around his farts.

Unlike last year we were actually much more independent as our other two buds travelled to our destination on their own, a relatively colder place where we could avoid this summer’s high temperatures, somewhere on a mountain not far from here. We’re hiking to some interesting sights, the most important being a big, lesser known waterfall located at higher altitudes and deeper into the forest.

We packed our stuff and as the Sun was setting we got into the car, Dave being the designated driver. My (much more important) role was choosing the music for the trip and sometimes checking the map. A true duo of rally drivers.

During the trip, me and my bro chatted about some random stuff and about one hour flew by. No traffic, no road works or anything, just a long but peaceful trip.

“Oh by the way.” Dave suddenly said, changing the subject. “When Dana and I went camping last year…”

He seemed embarrassed but couldn’t help but laugh. Knowing him, that was the kind of laughter he’d do whenever he did something stupid.

“Yes?” I asked, being annoyingly inquisitive on purpose.

“We broke your tent.” he simply said.

“Oh.” I replied, not caring that much.

Yes, after our trip last year, I let Dave and Dana bring my tent on their own trip. I totally forgot about it and it was a very cheap product anyway. Plus, I saw Dave putting a folded up tent into the trunk earlier this morning, so it’s not like we were gonna sleep with the bugs tonight.

“It was an accident, I’m sorry.” he said.

“You’re the worst person I ever met.” I replied, the sarcasm being almost tangible.

“I totally forgot about it.”

“Me too actually.” I admitted. “How did you break it? I deserve to know.” I asked, acting like I wanted to know how my grandpa died.

“Crazy sex obviously.” my friend said, with a smirk.

I stared back at him until he told me truth.

“Ok… I accidentally hit it while going in reverse.”

“How did it even happen?!” I yelled, amused. “Why was the car there in the first place?!”

“Girls, you know… she didn’t want to walk back to the car.”

I stared back at him again.

“We had beers in the trunk.”

“Unbelievable. Truly made for each other.”

We both had a good laugh at their laziness, and I made sure Dave knew it was fine: he bought a new tent after all, so we’re good.

“The new tent is a bit smaller though… not that you mind, right?” he said, and winked at me.

“Oh yeah, show me the infamous crazy sex you’ve been talking about.” I played along.

“Well that, obviously.” he joked. “But I was thinking more of… you know…”

He leaned a bit while driving and, as much as he could, pointed his camo-clad ass towards me; the fart was, well, one of his average ones, long, loud and proud, the sound partially muffled by the seat and car’s own noises, but I could still hear it clearly. A firm, strong, 7 seconds display of cocky manliness from my bro, something I pretend to be used to but for a number of reasons keeps surprising me somehow.

The smell hit me but the cars’ windows being open made it bearable.

Before I could stutter something, he sat back normally and resumed talking.

“Just like last year, you know.” he laughed.

He actually remembers it. The fact that he does gives me a mix of feelings. I remained silent, trying to focus on the road ahead, which he noticed.

“Aw come on, don’t act like you hate it, you hypocrite.” he playfully said, patting my shoulder. “You know you can relax when I’m around, right?” he then asked, a bit more seriously, keeping his right hand on my shoulder.

It took me a bit to answer that simple question, Dave being so open-minded he almost leaves me speechless.

“Yeah I know man. Thanks.”

“Good.” he said, again patting my shoulder.

This man’s patience is infinite.

And just like that, we resumed talking about the usual stuff, as if my kink never existed. I feel like Dave accepted my fetish more than I ever did with myself.

——

A few hours later we reached our destination, at around 10:00 AM, the mountains towering over us being so high we could see the peaks covered in glaciers. However, the town where we left the car was not at high altitudes, so while the weather wasn’t as hot as back home, you could still tell it was summer, a particularly hot one nonetheless, as some of the locals told us. From the small town we then begun our hiking towards a place called “Windy Mountain”, making sure our phones still got signal so we could keep our other two buds posted on our location.

As we got higher and higher, the temperatures got a bit lower, but still pleasing, despite our heavy backpacks.

“Call me hypocrite.” I said.

“I already did a few hours ago I believe.” Dave quickly replied.

“I’m just saying… I don’t blame you for parking the car next to the tent, when you were with Dana.”

“Ahah what, feeling tired already?” he mockingly said, tired.

“I could do this all day bro.” I boasted, lying.

“Well no worries, Greg and Adam set the camp right next to that river.”

Dave pointed to a location not really far from us, a bit more downhill than where we were, and I could indeed spot two people in the distance, which I assumed were our buds waiting for us. The view as a whole was also really nice, with the mountain overlooking the entire scene.

“You think they can hear us?” I asked.

“Only way to find out.”

My friend shouted our buds’ names, his voice echoing in the entire valley, but the two people didn’t seem to have any reaction. It was my turn to shout, but once again, nothing.

“Yeah it’s them.” Dave said. “I’d recognize Greg’ piss-yellow shirt anywhere.” he pointed out, as I too noticed that small yellow spot by the river.

“It’s weird they couldn’t hear us.”

“Let’s see if they can hear this then.”

Dave simply stood where it was, which was surprising considering the sheer amount of gas he started ejecting from his ass. The fart almost fake-sounding, but it was loud and powerful, my friend effortlessly showing off his skills, easily surpassing any natural sound around us. The fart truly echoed everywhere, and as the 9 seconds blast finished, I could still hear it propagating all over the valley. An impressive, almost terrifying display of what my friend is capable of.

Funnily enough, the guy in the piss shirt did seem to turn around; he then waved at us.

“Nice.” I said. “You probably scared the shit out of every animal in the valley, but nice.”

“It’s called ‘asserting dominance’, Timothy.” Dave said, acting all serious. “The valley now knows who’s in charge.”

“Wow I feel so safe now.” I said, letting my sarcasm do the talking… while trying to ignore my boner.

——

The moment we arrived, Greg and Adam fetched us beers and something to eat, just some snacks, as it was too early to set up a barbecue anyway. We started setting up our camp like we did last time: our two tents being on the opposite sides, facing each other, with a fire pit in the middle, not too close, not too far away.

“Isn’t that tent a bit too small for you two?” Greg noted, while rummaging through the snacks.

“We don’t need a bigger tent to compensate you know.” I replied, very maturely.

“Also, me and Tim like to snuggle in those cold summer nights.” Dave added, hugging me from behind. “Right, honey?”

I shook him off. “Oh yeah…” I played along. “Whisper me something soft and sweet, my stallion!”

What my ear received however was anything but a gentle whisper. Dave was really enjoying the beer and he decided to let me (and everyone) know by belching directly into my skull, the scent of yeast and water hitting my nostrils. My bro wants to make sure he can destroy me from both ends, if you know what I mean.

“Serves you right.” Greg snickered.

Like a Terminator, Dave changed his target and let me go, power-walking towards our snickering friend. Before Greg could beg for mercy, he grabbed his head and burped straight onto his face, earning mature laughters from me and Adam.

“The good news is that you’re probably scaring bears off.” Adam commented.

“He’s ‘asserting dominance’” I explained, making finger quotes.

“He’s the true alpha.” Adam added, sarcastically.

“He’s making me puke.” Greg managed to say, just as Dave’s belch ended.

Once this very mature display of manliness was over, my bro joined us in setting up the camp, with his classic smirk drawn on his face, pretty proud of making Greg almost lose it.

——

After setting up the camp we ate something, nothing too complicated, just some sandwiches and fresh water, because in the afternoon we planned to go hiking; the destination was this beautiful waterfall located deeper into the woods and at a higher altitude, a true sight to behold. Due to this however, the climate there was colder, and the temperatures started to lower even in the valley (where our camp was) due to the Sun hiding behind one of the tall mountains looming over us.

In our tent I was setting some things up before the hike, like the GPS on my phone, and pulling some things out of my backpack to avoid bringing something needlessly heavy with me. My back was facing the tent’s entrance but I could feel someone coming inside.

“Everything’s alright?” Dave asked.

For all the immature, sometimes gross pranks he plays on us (…you know what I mean), Dave was actually the smartest around here, and the one we trusted the most when it came to organizing trips like these. Just because he acts silly, it doesn’t man he’s stupid.

“Yeah man. All set.” I said. “If we die, they’re gonna find our corpses in no time.” I joked.

“That’s the spirit!” my friend cheered.

As the Dave got into the tent, I realized how smaller than the last one was indeed. The fact that my bro was taller and generally “bigger” than me, body-wise, didn’t help. There was room to breathe, lay down and all that stuff, but a bigger tent would have definitely been better.

My bro got on all fours to look for some of his own stuff and, due to the small size of the tent, accidentally brushed his camo-clad ass all over me more than once. This stuff can happen to everyone, so I just ignored it, though it was hard not to think of what that same ass is capable of, considering the person who belongs to.

“Looking for something?” I asked, turning to him, though my head was basically talking to his ass.

“Yeah, my rain jacket.” he said, while rummaging through his own backpack.

“Oh right, the waterfall.” I remembered. I too had a rain jacket after all.

“Nevermind, found it.” he told me, giving me an OK I sign.

I kept checking my stuff, his camo-clad ass still literally next to me. I noticed Dave’s hand now patting his own butt, like we all do when we can’t find our phones in our back-pockets.

“What are you looking for now?” I asked, without even turning to his ass, even though my boner really wanted me to take a closer look.

Dave didn’t answer, though I felt his hand pat my shoulder, then my hair.

“Your head, actually.” he said, trying not to laugh.

He quickly pulled me and planted my entire face into his ass, holding it still. As my nose touched the warm fabric of his cargo pants, I felt his buttcheeks relax and, surprise to no one, a fart came out, a loud blast that made my teeth shake for how strong and loud it was. The gas went down my nostrils and eyes, making me choke, but Dave’s firm grip on my head was merciless. As my bro kept his position on all four, he raised one of his legs a bit, easing the blast out, actually making him get even louder. He finally let me head go as he did this, but my kinky-self didn’t move at all, enjoying the blast until it was over.

And indeed it was over, at around 11 seconds, a fart fueled by beer and snacks. I heard my friend laugh as he gently pushed me away using his own ass. The turned around, with his usual smirk.

“It’s just too easy with you.” he said.

I didn’t say anything, turning my attention to my backpack again. Despite Dave’s best (worst?) efforts, I was always embarrassed by this. My bro probably noticed this and stopped the teasing, getting ready himself for the hike.

As I mentioned, the temperatures were getting lower, so Dave changed clothes accordingly: he was now wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and the aforementioned rain jacket.

“Piss yellow? How the tables have turned.” I mocked him, commenting the color of the jacket.

“It’s ochre, you swine.” he said.

——

We were hiking in single file, with me being the last, in the woods, the temperatures getting lower; the mood was great however, and we occasionally improvised songs from a certain epic fantasy as we felt like we were marching towards a dark volcano or a dragon-infested mountain. The landscapes certainly helped the illusion of an epic tale: it was just a damn beautiful place; despite the Sun being still obscured by the mountains, we could still it was a picture perfect day, weather-wise: we couldn’t have chosen a better day to go camping and hiking.

My gay and kinky ass kept distracting me from truly appreciating the beauty of nature, as Dave was the one walking in front of me. Regardless of my fetish, Dave was a great-looking guy, so I couldn’t help but to stare at him for a few seconds whenever I could. My eyes would obviously land on his jeans-clad ass more than once, which were a bit loose but also wrapped nicely around his powerful butt as he walked. Disgustingly enough, I wished he could fart on me while wearing those, but I won’t deny I’d love to ask, but I will never do it, I’d feel like I’m crossing some boundaries I’m not supposed to cross, because at the end of the day Dave is straight.

I can at least enjoy the view… and considering that the human body is, well, not artificial, you can technically say I’m still enjoying the scenery nature had to offer.

——

The hype paid off: the waterfall, the main reason we came up here in the first place, was absolutely incredible. We were speechless, so stunned we didn’t even think to take a picture of it the moment we got there. We kept walking, following a route that would get us right in front of it, millions of small droplets of water already dampening our faces and clothes. This never-ending wall of water going down the mountain was a beast, and a loud one truth to be told: we had to yell because we couldn’t hear anything unless we stood really close to each other.

“I’m speechless.” I yelled everyone.

“What?!” everyone replied.

“I said that I’m speechless!”

“Then why are you talking?!” Greg screamed back.

We didn’t have anything else to say as we stood in front of that wonderful display of nature, letting the water do all the talk. Finally we decided to become a boomer’s worst nightmare and pulled our phones out, taking pictures, posting stories and selfies. I saw Dave making a short video-call with Dana, even though the two could barely hear each other (but knowing them, that was the entire joke) while the other three of us settled for posting our pics on social medias.

It was still daytime (around 5:00 PM) but after about 20 minutes admiring the scenery, we decided it was time to hike back to the camp.

Also, we were starving.

“You two want to make out or what?” Adam yelled, noticing me and Dave staying behind.

I explained (screaming like a demon) that Dave needed to send a couple more pics to Dana, but the phone’s signal was unstable, so I was waiting for him to not leave him alone there.

Adam gestured a “whatever” and he and Greg disappeared in the woods around the waterfall.

After a couple more minutes, which I spent sitting down admiring that cathedral of nature, Dave put his phone in the backpack and sat next to me, at first in silence.

“I gotta take Dana to this place.” he thought out loud.

We kept sitting there, the loudness of the water rushing down the only thing we could hear despite ourselves. I decided to ruin the moment by reaching for something in my backpack.

“Beer?” I said, handing a can of beer to my bro.

“Always.” he replied.

We had a quick toast and enjoyed the view a bit more.

“Man that’s loud.” I commented, the waterfall’s noise starting to piercing my ear-drums.

Dave slowly turned to me, sporting an exaggerated smirk.

“Challenge accepted.”

I guess it was his turn to ruin the moment.

He quickly stood up, now towering next to me, and I could once again admire that beautiful denim ass. He wasn’t gonna fart in my face, not there at least, but for some reason he just wanted to do it. It wasn’t because of me, I’m pretty sure: the guy just enjoys showing off.

I didn’t stand up, and just stared at Dave… waiting, until he turned his head down to me with a cheesy smirk.

“You can’t hear it?” he yelled.

I instinctively stared at his ass and focuses. I could barely hear it: it was one of his well-known farts, loud and proud, but he still couldn’t beat the waterfall.

Trying to hide my massive boner, I simply gestured my ear, as to say that I couldn’t hear it. My friend just laughed and I could see his eyes narrowing, as if he was forcing more gas out.

And truth to be told, I could hear the fart getting louder, still not as loud as the waterfall obviously, but damn that must have been incredible to hear in all of its glory.

Dave kept standing still, relaxing his ass muscles and pushing what was probably one of his longest and loudest farts out. I could notice the droplets coming from the waterfall being blown farther away once they got close to his denim ass, a sign of powerful that blast was.

Now I could hear it properly, which my friend noticed, as he once again stared down at me sporting a wide, silly smile, immaturely proud of his fart. Really putting the “ass” in the whole “asserting dominance”-thing he had going one since we got here.

I thought I was ruining the moment with that beer, but Dave is better at everything I guess.

The hardest thing (besides my penis) was fighting the urge to simply plant my face into that ass, so I could properly enjoy that massive display of farting-talent; I couldn’t complain however, since Dave is basically a terribly wonderful enabler for my fart kink.

Now I couldn’t hear the waterfall anymore, only the fart; that fact that I was right next to the source of the blast certainly helped, but that was impressive either way. Dave was visibly exhausted: that was too much even for him (and, probably, me), so he sat down next to me again, sighing in relief, and the fart ended. How long did that last anyway? Not only it was loud, it was extremely lengthy. If I had to guess, that was probably around 60 seconds!

I tried to focus again on the waterfall, while Dave proposed another toast.

“To us.” he said, sounding as corny as you think.

“Really?” I replied, skeptical.

Dave simply laughed in response.

“You’re a disgusting weirdo, Tim.” he said, smiling, but those words didn’t hurt me at all, because I knew he wouldn’t say things like that to hurt me. “But takes one to know one.”

“Wait.” I was confused. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t get any ideas now.” he quickly stated. “I just wanted to remind you how weird all of this is.” he took a sip of his beer. “How hilariously weird.” he laughed.

Dave, a straight guy, a good friend. Yes, I was the weirdo of the duo, but he doing what he does for me can be just as weird and the fact that he just doesn’t care only proves even more what a great bro he is, being ridiculously open-minded about all this stuff.

“You didn’t have to, you know?” I told him.

“Teasing you is hilarious.” he admitted. “Thanks for the laughs.” he patted my back.

I simply decided to remain silent, probably the best decision, and let the waterfall once again do all the talk, as the millions of droplets of water made our clothes soaking wet. Dave asserted his dominance, but the waterfall definitely had the last word.

——

Back to the camp, we quickly put some sausages with “Adam’s special sauce” on the barbecue (I’ll save you the mandatory jokes) and had a nice dinner all the 4 of us together, planning on what we were gonna do the next day; probably something simpler, not deep in the woods: the town were we left the car had a couple of good restaurants so like the bunch of city slickers we are, we decided to hang out there the next morning.

It was a windy night, but it wasn’t that cold outside, so both me and Dave lay down in our tent, next to each other, without sleeping bags. A small lantern lit the inside of the tent with a warm light. My friend was lying on his stomach, still wearing the long-sleeved shirt and the jeans from before, which I sadly immediately noticed.

Dave’s face was even more lit because of his phone inches from his nose, which he was using to message Dana, as the continuous tapping and notifications sounds confirmed. Honestly, that was kind of annoying.

“Bro…” I whispered. “Can you… please, you know?” I said, hoping to sound just as annoying.

“Mh?” Dave replied, distracted by all the messaging.

“Please?” I repeated.

Dave smiled and resumed the noisy tapping. “Yeah sure, give me a minute.”

“Nice.” I thanked him.

I simply laid down, staring at what can we consider the “ceiling” of our tent. That was a good day, we should actually do it more often.

“Alright.” Dave put his phone down, after indeed a minute passed.

However, he kept moving for some reason. He laid down on his back and turned his entire body so his legs would be next to my head. But then, he cocked his denim legs up and made those go over my head, now fully showing off his denim ass right next to my face, which looked like a wall of jeans given how loose (almost sagging) it was.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” I almost yelled.

“Huh?” Dave said. All I could see was his denim ass, but I could tell he was confused.

“What the Hell?” I kept asking.

“Bro. You literally asked for it.” he explained.

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did!” he insisted, this time laughing a bit.

That felt surreal.

Then I realized.

“I was… I was talking about all the tapping, dude! If you could put that damn phone on mute!”

We remained silent for a couple of long seconds, then Dave broke the silence by laughing like an idiot.

“Sorry bro, I totally thought you finally had the guts to just ask for it ahah.”

“I would never!”

We kept talking like that, with my head inches from his ass, Dave just casually lying down like that as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Well…” my bro finally said. “Do you want me to fart or not?” he whispered, as we both remembered that Greg and Adam’s tent wasn’t far from us, even though they were already asleep.

The way he just casually asked got me massively aroused already. How in the world I manage to have a friend like him is beyond me, beyond my wildest dreams.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.” he then said.

Indeed, we were in the middle of nowhere.

“Okay…” I finally found the courage to speak. “But only if you want to.”

Dave laughed.

“I don’t want to fart in your face, bro.” he said, reaching for my head, pulling it even closer to his denim ass. “I want to fuckin’ end it. Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question. The blast that greeted me was massive, my face shaking due to the power of that fart. Whatever sauce Adam put on those sausages really messed with my friend’s stomach, which was already infamously powerful as well all know. The stench was unbearable and the entire tent shook because of the wind Dave was shooting out of his ass.

The natural blast kept going for about 12 more seconds, with my friend letting my head go halfway through the rip, knowing that I wasn’t going anywhere. At around the 16th second mark, the fart finally ended, leaving an invisible gas cloud engulfing the tent. The smell hit my bro as well, but he was basically immune at his own poisonous attacks.

Without moving his ass, he slightly got up, staring down at me from beyond that wall of jeans, with a silly smirk, checking for my reaction, which was awkward and speechless as usual, something that he’d always find amusing.

“Are you ok there, Tim?” we heard Greg yell from his tent.

Both of us laughed like idiots this time. “It’s all good!” Dave yelled.

Maintaining eye-contact with me, with his ass still inches from my face, he started to suck air in. The facial expressions he made were just as hot as the sounds he was producing from his ass.

“Asserting dominance?” I casually asked.

Dave laughed again. “Nah, just making a thirsty bitch’s dreams come true.” he joked.

Once again, I wasn’t offended, nor Dave’s words were ill-intentioned. We always made fun of each other after all, and considering what was happening… I honestly deserved that.

My friend reached for my head one more time, pulling it close to his denim ass, now completely sagging, my nose rubbing against the red fabric of his sweaty boxer shorts. This time he was blasting me on command, but honestly there were no different from his natural ones. He was indeed really good at quenching my thirst, I couldn’t deny that.

It was a series of mid rips, loud and about 3 seconds long each. I wish Dave always had nothing better to do than blasting me, to be honest. I again heard our other friends’ yelling something, but the sound from Dave’s farts was so loud it reminded me of the waterfall.

The tip of my cock dampened as the barrage ended with a longer 9 seconds rip, which almost teared a hole through my friend’s red boxer.

He finally let me go and he resumed his previous position, lying down next to me.

“Dave…” I said. “I’ll never understand why you do it, but thanks.”

“I swear I’m gonna kick your ass if you keep saying that.” he replied, pushing me a bit.

I tried to relax, as if nothing happened, another thing that Dave was much better than me at. I closed my eyes and focused on having a good night sleep… but I heard all that tapping again.

“Really?” I said, turning to him.

“If you can handle the noises my ass makes, you can handle my phone, you hypocrite.”

“I… you… you KNEW I was talking about the phone the whole time!”

Dave simply turned to me, sporting the most annoying smirk he could mess me with.

“It’s just too easy with you.” he said one more time, and winked at me.

Truly asserting dominance, he raised one of his legs and a ripped a quick, loud one, effortlessly.

At this point I was just blushing like a fool. I turned my back to him to avoid eye contact because I was a mess. My bro is such a teasing bastard and I both hate and love him for this, but damn it’s getting way too hot in here.

Luckily, the cold windy night helped cooling me down, even though there was more wind inside the tent than outside, because of Dave.

Maybe that’s why they call it “Windy Mountain” (yes, you knew it was coming).

End of Episode 24

#fart story #eproctophilia #davefarts2 #gayfarts #malefarts #fart kink

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