#when she did she never moved from that spot. genuinely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dev1lm4n · 11 months

Text

moth to flame

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!

Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.

She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.

She’s a cute kid, you decided.

You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.

It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?

You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒

“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”

The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.

“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”

Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.

“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.

“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”

He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.

“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.

“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”

That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.

“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”

The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.

“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“I’m home.”

Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

“Oh! You’re here!”

You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.

“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”

You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.

A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.

You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.

“What’re you up to all evening?”

His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.

“Studying.”

“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”

No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Think so,” you hummed softly.

“Poor thing.”

Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.

A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.

You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.

Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.

You didn’t want him to stop.

You wanted him to touch you more.

To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.

To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.

You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.

“You feel better?”

When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Much better.”

“Good then, kiddo.”

The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.

“I’m not a kid.”

“No?”

He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.

“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.

“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”

“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”

The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.

It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.

As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.

“What are you cookin’ up?”

You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.

“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”

It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.

“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.

“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”

You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.

A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.

A sharp sting shot through your hand.

Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.

“Shit..”

Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.

However, fate had other plans in store.

“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”

You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you.

He was your drug.

One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.

With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.

His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.

The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead.

“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”

“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.

“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”

What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.

“Of course, Mr. Miller.”

The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?

With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door.

If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you.

Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.

Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.

He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.

His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.

He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.

In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.

With bated breath, he continued to observe.

Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.

His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.

Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.

Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.

“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.

Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?

“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.

He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.

“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”

Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.

Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.

Cock sore and in need of relieving.

Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock.

The video you're watching to get yourself off.

They were his.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine

3K notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 28 days

Text

never gonna give you up

for @steddiemicrofic "fake" prompt that needed to include the words: and, around, desert, down, give, gonna, let, never, run, up, you

1987 words | rated e | no cw | tags: modern au, flirting, bisexual steve harrington, handjobs, some platonic stobin, ridiculous and unserious

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

"This might be the first time someone's deserted me in the middle of a date," Steve said into the phone.

"You aren't counting that one time Sarah left during the movie?" Robin asked.

"She had a family emergency!" Steve exclaimed.

"Right, and I'm definitely going on a date with a dude later."

"You're saying she didn't have a family emergency?"

Steve remembered that date, remembered how she'd even had tears in her eyes when she said her mom called and she had to run home.

"You're gonna unpack that all night, aren't you?" Robin sighed on the other end. "Steve, just go home. Take a week off from trying to get into some poor woman's pants. Leave some of them for me to get into. I beg you."

"What makes you think they'd come running to you?" Steve looked over at a guy standing at the counter of the diner, clearly trying to pick up his order. From the back, he seemed tall, but that could be the black skinny jeans and boots combo.

"Let me talk to them for one minute and I'll have them convinced."

The guy turned as the woman behind the counter walked to the kitchen, his eyes settling on Steve talking on his cell phone at the table in the corner. It's not like there were many people here on a Monday night, nothing else to look at but Steve awkwardly sitting by himself with two glasses on the table.

The guy started to walk over, and Steve recognized him immediately.

"Gotta go, Robs."

"What? How are you done wallowing already?"

He hung up before she could continue, putting his phone face down on the table.

"Well, well, well. Never thought I'd see the day where Steve Harrington shows back up in Hawkins."

Eddie Munson didn't know shit about Steve, never really had. He thought he did, just like everyone else in high school, but the gossip that followed him around never had much truth to it. He really only had two girlfriends for most of high school, and only one of them was serious enough for him to sleep with.

The sleeping around came after his move to Chicago, when he was constantly surrounded by women who would give him all the attention he wanted.

"Never really thought I'd be back," he said with a genuine smile. Kill them with kindness or whatever his grandmother used to say.

It seemed to throw Eddie off at least, his mouth opening and closing around whatever rebuttal he planned.

"So why are you here? Visiting the parents?" Eddie crossed his arms, leaned his hip against the edge of the table.

"Nah, came to visit Dustin Henderson. Staying for a few more days and thought it would be nice to take someone out. I guess she didn't agree," Steve shrugged.

Eddie glanced down at the empty spot across from him, the glass on the table with half of the drink missing. He looked back at Steve's face.

He sat down across from him and smirked.

"So. Come here often, sunshine?"

Steve snorted, shaking his head as he looked up at Eddie.

"Not as often as I would if I was coming to see you," Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink.

Eddie clearly wasn't expecting him to flirt back. He recovered quickly, though.

"I suppose we could fix that, then, huh?"

Steve looked him up and down, taking in the messy bun his curly hair was pulled into, the pen mark on his cheek, tattoos up and down his arm.

"I suppose we could."

Waking up in Eddie Munson's bed was definitely not what he expected when he arrived in Hawkins two days ago, but stranger things had happened.

He opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the curtains and Eddie's warm body pressed against his back.

Neither of them had gotten dressed after their shower last night, too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and cum from hours of making each other come undone.

Steve let himself have this. Eddie would kick him out when he woke up, kindly of course, but he'd make it clear to Steve that this was a one night thing. No matter how good it was, Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew Eddie would never actually be interested in a guy like him.

"Mmm. Stop thinkin' s' loud," Eddie's lips brushed against the back of Steve's neck in a half-kiss, sending a shiver down his spine. "'s too early."

Steve smiled to himself, let Eddie's arms tighten around him and hold him close for a bit longer.

"I should probably head back to the Henderson's. Claudia will be worried if I'm not there for lunch," Steve said quietly.

"Just text Dustin, tell him your date went well."

Steve shouldn't get his hopes up. It's not like he was gonna do long distance, and even if he would be willing, there was no way Eddie would.

"I can't lie to him," Steve felt his heart flip flop in his chest at the admission.

Eddie's head lifted and his breath hit the side of Steve's face instead of his shoulder. "Did it not go well? I thought it- well, I thought it went great, actually."

Steve turned in Eddie's arms, facing him, placing his hands on his chest. "It did go well! It did."

"Okay, then…"

"It's just this wasn't exactly a date, was it? You just felt bad for me, probably wanted to see if the rumors were true."

"What rumors?"

"You know. The ones about me sleeping around, being good with my mouth." Steve's eyes searched Eddie's, looking for any hint of recognition. When none came, he continued. "How I let anyone fuck me on the first date?"

Eddie's brows furrowed. "Is that what people say about you?"

"You don't have to act dumb, Eddie. Some of it's true."

Eddie's hands were rubbing up and down his back, making goosebumps appear on his skin. "You are good with your mouth. That one’s true. The rest though? I never believed any of that shit.”

“Really? Why not?”

Eddie’s hand traced along Steve’s only tattoo, a robin placed just under his collarbone. “Because I never gave much thought to rumors. Lord knows most of the ones about me weren’t true.”

Steve thought about all the rumors he’d heard about Eddie in high school.

Back then, he may have believed some of them, but he had firsthand experience with things getting out of hand.

“You can think what you want, but I brought you back here because I genuinely enjoyed talking to you at the diner. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wanted to get rid of you. Trust me. I’m not really a one and done guy,” Eddie’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. “If you’re in a rush to go, I can’t stop you. But I think staying in bed with you all morning sounds pretty fuckin’ good.”

Steve’s breath hitched, his heart kicked up in his chest. “You know, I’ve actually never bottomed before last night.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Never?”

Steve shook his head. “Never found anyone I could trust to be gentle.”

“Was I gentle enough? Shit, you should’ve told me. I used spit as lube, Steve! That couldn’t have been comfortable.” Eddie pulled away a few inches, mumbling to himself in a panic.

“Eddie.” Steve tried to get his attention back on him. “Eds.”

Steve shifted forward, his front pressing against Eddie’s, his half-hard cock finding friction against Eddie’s thigh.

They both groaned as Steve rocked against him again.

“Everything was perfect, Eds. Only thing that would make it better is if I get to watch you come again right now," Steve said against his lips, pushing his hips forward so their cocks brushed against each other.

"Fuck, keep doing that and you'll get your wish, sweetheart."

He was sensitive, worked up from the hot breath against his mouth, the tongue brushing against his bottom lip. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wrapped up in someone, this attentive to the sounds they made, this focused on making sure they both felt good.

The friction was enough on its own to get Steve to the edge, and if Eddie's moans were anything to go off of, he was right there with him.

Steve never felt safe enough to be loud, not until he had Eddie begging him to make noise.

"C'mon, Stevie. Wanna hear how good you feel. Sounds so good when you can't hold it back," Eddie's hand gripped his hip, tugging him closer. They were both leaking precum, dripping down each other's lengths and losing track of where one of them ended and the other began.

Steve couldn't hold it back, didn't want to anyway. Letting Eddie hear how good he felt was a need.

"You gonna come with me, sweetheart?" Eddie gasped out as he wrapped his hand around both of them, slowing his hips to focus on moving his hand, finding the perfect angle and pace to get them both over the edge.

Steve bit his lip and nodded, barely holding back a whimper as Eddie's grip tightened around them.

"Come for me, Stevie."

Eddie's voice had a direct link to Steve's cock, maybe through the hand wrapped around him. Steve came with a shout, curling forward so his forehead fell against Eddie's shoulder.

He was overstimulated, fighting the urge to buck into his hand and pull away at the same time.

Steve pulled his head back to watch as Eddie groaned, cum hitting both of their stomachs as he worked himself through his orgasm.

They both lay there in silence, Eddie's grip loose around them as they both softened. They'd need to clean up before the cum dried in Steve's chest hairs and made them sticky, but moving seemed like an impossible task.

"You live in Chicago now?" Eddie asked suddenly, making Steve jump. He rubbed his cleaner hand on his back in silent apology.

"Yeah," Steve breathed out. "With Robin Buckley. From band?"

"I know Robin. She used to come to my shows before she moved."

"Small world."

Eddie snorted. "Just Hawkins." Eddie sat up, pulling Steve with him. "You know, the guys in my band have been considering moving to Chicago. Think it's a good place for a metal band?"

Steve searched his face for any clues as to what he was really asking. Certainly he didn't expect Steve to know if a metal band would feel at home somewhere.

"I…guess?" Steve answered.

"I'll just text Robin," Eddie wiped his hand on the sheets and reached over to the bedside table to grab his phone.

"Wait. You keep in touch with Robin?" Steve felt like he was being pranked.

"Not as much as I should, but yeah. We caught up last time she visited her parents." Eddie typed on his phone for a moment, then looked up at Steve with a smirk. "Problem with that?"

"No, I'm just kinda shocked she's never really mentioned it." Steve stood up with shaking legs. "I should probably grab a shower and go."

"You normally a runner?" Eddie asked, amused.

"No? Why do you ask?"

"It's just the second time you've been rushing to leave. Thought I told you I wanted you here."

Steve knew what he wanted, and he knew it was too much, too fast, too ridiculous for Eddie to even consider it.

But maybe, if he played his cards right, maybe he could have Eddie for more than today.

"Shower with me?" Steve settled on, pouting his bottom lip out.

"And then?" Eddie pushed.

Steve didn't know what to do, but he knew what he wanted.

"And then we'll go back to the diner and actually eat something together." Eddie nodded, encouraging him to continue. "And then you give me your number."

"For?"

"Planning our next date."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #fake prompt #but i encourage everyone to be ridiculous with me

535 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 12 days

Text

sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.

alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.

nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.

the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.

"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.

"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.

it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.

barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.

"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.

"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"

"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.

"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.

"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.

"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."

"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.

"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"

"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.

"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"

"shut up," alexia grumbled.

"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.

"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.

"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."

"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

639 notes · View notes

fadedncity · 1 year

Text

give me the greenlight

wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how

pairing: mark x fem!reader

cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything

[9:16 PM] FRIDAY

"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.

"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.

"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.

"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.

"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.

"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.

"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.

Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.

"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.

With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.

The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.

"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.

You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore.

"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.

"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.

"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.

You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.

The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.

You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.

"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.

"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.

"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.

"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.

You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug.

"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.

"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.

"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."

"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.

"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.

"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.

"How do you figure?"

"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.

The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.

"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.

You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.

"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her.

"Yeri, duh," she answered.

"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.

"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her."

"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.

"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.

"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.

You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.

"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.

"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.

"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.

Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.

"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.

"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.

"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.

"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.

Way back.

Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.

Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.

"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said.

"But-"

"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked.

"No, I don't know Mark."

"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone.

"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked.

"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked.

"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you.

"Oh really? What else has he said?"

"You're one hell of a driver."

"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.

People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.

Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.

Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.

"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.

Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.

"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."

"Consider me surprised."

You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.

"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.

"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."

"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"

"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.

You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.

The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.

"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."

"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.

You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.

[10:32 PM]

"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain.

You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Somi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.

"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.

"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."

"You were close?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.

"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.

"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.

"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."

"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.

Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.

"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.

"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.

"Like old times?" you smile.

"Just like old times," he replies.

"For how much?" you ask.

"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."

"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."

Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.

"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.

"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.

"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.

"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.

"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.

Mark smirked, "Are you?"

"Hell no," you revved up your engine.

With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.

You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.

You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.

You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.

With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.

"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."

"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.

"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.

He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."

It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.

Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew?

But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.

"How about when I win?" you ask.

He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."

Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.

"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.

"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.

"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.

"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.

"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.

"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.

"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.

"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.

It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.

You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.

You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.

"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.

As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.

You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.

You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.

"Fuck," you whined.

You really wanted that Evo.

"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.

"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.

"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.

"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.

"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.

"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.

"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.

"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.

"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.

"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.

"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.

"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.

"Fucking traitor," you grumble.

Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.

"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.

Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.

People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.

You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.

You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.

"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.

"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.

"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."

"Alright, we'll see you there."

"Alright." you hung up.

[12:26 AM] SATURDAY

As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.

Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.

"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.

"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.

Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"

"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.

Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."

You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.

"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.

"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.

"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.

"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.

Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…

"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.

Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Somi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Somi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.

"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.

"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.

The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.

You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.

"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.

"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.

"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"

"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter.

"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.

It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.

"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"

"I'm not telling you that."

You scoff, "Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." you whine.

"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."

"That's different."

"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.

"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"

"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.

"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.

He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."

"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"I can be."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."

"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."

"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head.

"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"

"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."

"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful."

"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes.

Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.

"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."

Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark.

You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.

"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."

"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.

A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.

Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.

Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.

"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.

"Hey, man," Mark nods.

It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.

"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.

"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."

"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.

"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.

"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.

"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.

"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh.

Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room.

"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.

"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.

"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.

"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.

"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."

[3:37 AM]

You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.

"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.

"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.

"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.

Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine.

"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.

"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."

"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.

"Yes," you begin laughing as well.

"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air.

"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.

"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.

"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.

Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.

"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.

"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.

"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.

"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.

"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.

"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.

"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.

"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.

"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.

"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.

"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.

"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.

You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.

"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.

"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.

He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"

"I'm great," you reply.

Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"

You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.

But Mark.

"I'm good," you nod.

"Okay, I'll see you later."

"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.

This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night.

"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.

"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.

"You're not driving, right?"

"Of course not. I'm not too far."

"I'll take you."

"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.

"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.

"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.

You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.

"You know…around," she answered.

It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.

"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.

"Yup," you answer.

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.

"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.

Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.

Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."

"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.

"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.

"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.

"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.

"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.

"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."

"How?" he asks.

"Cause you're Mark."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."

"Well, do you want me to stop?"

You took a second to answer, "No."

For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.

"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."

You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."

"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.

"I bet your mom's excited."

"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."

"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.

Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.

From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.

As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.

"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.

You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.

"Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight," he says.

"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.

"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.

[5:43 PM] SATURDAY

"Can I get a time check?" you ask.

"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.

You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.

"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.

"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.

"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.

"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.

You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.

[5:49 PM] mark: omw to come get you

Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.

"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.

"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.

"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.

"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."

"I was not," you defended.

"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.

You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.

"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.

"No worries, I'll still be here."

You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes.

"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.

"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.

"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.

"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.

"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.

"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.

"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.

"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.

You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.

Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.

"Hi," you walk up to him.

"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."

"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.

Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.

You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.

"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.

"Mark, you didn't."

"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.

"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.

He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."

You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.

As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down.

"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.

"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.

"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."

The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.

"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."

Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.

"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.

"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."

Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.

"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.

"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."

You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.

"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.

Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.

"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.

"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.

"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."

You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about.

"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"

"For this." Mark answers.

"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him.

[8:32 PM]

As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.

"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.

"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.

"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.

"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.

"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.

"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.

"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.

"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.

But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.

"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.

"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.

"You know I'm more than good," you reply.

"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.

Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.

Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.

"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.

You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.

"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."

"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.

"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.

"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.

Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.

[9:41 PM]

"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.

Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.

You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.

"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."

"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.

"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"

"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.

"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.

You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.

"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.

"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.

You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."

"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.

"About what?"

"You having a crush on me in high school."

"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.

"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.

"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"

"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.

You could pretty much say the same to him.

"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand.

"My idiot," you kiss him again.

[11:56 PM]

With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.

Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out.

You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.

"So," Mark starts.

"So," you take a step closer to him.

"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.

You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."

"Damn, it does feel good being right."

"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."

"How much time?"

You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."

Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.

"Well?"

"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.

He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.

"Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.

"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"

"Do you want it to be?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."

"I'm counting on it."

Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.

"Date must've gone well," Summer says.

"What makes you say so?" you ask.

"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.

"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.

[1:34 PM] MONDAY

Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.

"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.

"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.

You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.

"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.

Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.

"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.

"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."

"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.

"What?"

"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.

"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.

"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.

Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.

"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call.

"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.

"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.

You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.

. . .

You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop.

"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile.

"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.

"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.

"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.

You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.

"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.

"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.

"She would," you agree.

"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.

"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand.

Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station.

"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.

"Not really," Shotaro says.

"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.

The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."

"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.

"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.

"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.

"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.

Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"

Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.

"I don't as much as I used to," you say.

"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."

Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.

"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.

"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.

"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile.

"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.

"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says.

"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.

"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.

You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.

"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.

"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.

"When is it?" Mark asks.

"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.

"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."

"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.

"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."

Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.

"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.

"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.

"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.

God, why is he so hot.

You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.

"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."

That was good enough for you for now.

"Okay."

[6:50 PM] THURSDAY

"Hello?" you answer the phone.

"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."

"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."

"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.

"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."

"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."

Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."

[8:02 PM]

Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.

Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses.

"Hi," Mark smiles at you.

"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.

"Guess you can say that."

Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.

"Your parents here?" you ask.

"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.

"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.

Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.

"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"

"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.

"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.

You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."

"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.

"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.

Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.

"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.

"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize.

You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.

"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now.

"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."

"What's so funny about that?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"What for?"

"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.

"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile.

Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust??

"Maybe," you answer.

"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.

You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.

Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.

Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.

"Mark…" you breathe shakily.

"You need something?"

"Yeah, you."

You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.

Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.

The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for.

"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.

"What, baby?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.

"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.

"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.

"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.

Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.

"You this wet for me, princess?"

You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."

"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls.

"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.

"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.

"Why?"

"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.

"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.

Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.

Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.

Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.

Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.

"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Mark, please."

If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.

At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.

Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving.

"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.

Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.

"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.

You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.

"You okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.

"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.

You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.

Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.

"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.

Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.

"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.

His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.

"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.

"Yeah," Mark nods.

Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.

You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.

Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.

"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.

"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.

"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.

"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."

"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.

You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.

"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."

"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.

"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.

You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.

Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds.

"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation.

The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.

"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.

"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.

You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.

"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck.

"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises.

"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.

The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back.

"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning.

The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.

"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.

Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.

"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.

Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove.

"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.

"Fuck~" he whines.

"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.

"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.

"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.

"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.

"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.

Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.

"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.

Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.

"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.

"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.

Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.

You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.

"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.

You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.

"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.

After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks.

"Yeah."

"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you.

"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction.

"About?"

"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek.

Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.

[9:43 PM] SATURDAY

"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.

It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.

Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.

You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.

"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.

"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.

"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.

"What?" Summer asks.

"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"

"It's nothing. We're just friends."

You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.

Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him.

"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.

"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.

You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.

"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.

"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"

"He's on his way," you say.

"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.

"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully.

"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.

More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.

"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.

"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you.

Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars.

"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien.

They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.

"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.

"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.

Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.

"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator.

Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor.

Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.

You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.

You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.

Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.

"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.

A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."

"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.

"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.

You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.

Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.

You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.

"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.

"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."

"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.

Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.

Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.

You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.

"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.

As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.

"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.

"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."

You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.

"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.

"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.

But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.

"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.

It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.

"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.

You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.

"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.

"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.

Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.

"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.

Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.

"Mark," you call him warily.

"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.

Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.

"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.

"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."

"They're already on their way."

Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.

You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.

"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.

"Why?" Mark asks.

"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."

Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage.

Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap.

"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips.

"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.

Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"

"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.

Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.

"Yeah."

You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.

"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."

His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.

Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.

"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.

Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.

You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.

"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.

"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.

"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."

You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.

You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"

"Feels so good," he tells you.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"

"Yes."

You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."

"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.

Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.

"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."

"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.

Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.

"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.

"Yes," you whimper.

"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"

"For you, yes," you tell him.

Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.

"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."

"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."

"Mark, please."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.

"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.

You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

"That was so hot." Mark says.

You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."

You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.

"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.

"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.

"It's my car," Mark says.

"In my garage."

"Jesus, here he goes."

"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.

"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.

"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.

[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY

"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.

"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.

"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.

Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.

"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.

"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.

"What is it?" you ask.

"How would you like to-"

"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.

With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.

"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.

"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"

"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.

"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.

"Mark, no," you start.

"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.

"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.

"My brother's wedding is next Friday."

"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.

"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."

You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.

"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.

"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.

"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.

"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.

"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.

The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.

"What if I went with you?" you ask.

"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.

"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."

"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."

"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.

"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"

You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.

"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.

"No?"

You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.

"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.

"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.

"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.

[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY

"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.

"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.

Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.

"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.

"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.

You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.

"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.

"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.

"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.

"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.

"Can we get to this race wars first?"

"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.

"You too. But not too much without us," you say.

"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.

[1:19 PM]

As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.

"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.

"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.

Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.

"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.

"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."

"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."

"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.

You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.

"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.

"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.

"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.

"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.

"Taeil, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.

"On what?" Taeil asks, turning to you two.

"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."

Taeil turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."

"Taeil, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.

"Sorry, kid."

Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor.

"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Taeil as Mark's brother walks out.

"Am I," he smiled at his girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids.

"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask.

"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Taeil says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing.

"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"

"Since last month," he answers.

You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows.

The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows.

"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"

You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.

As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.

Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."

You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Taeil asks, also crying and pulling out his own tissues.

[5:57 PM]

Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.

By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.

"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.

"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."

"Why's that?"

"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."

You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.

"I love you, Mark Lee."

[10:13 AM] SATURDAY

You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.

"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.

"Yeah?" you hear him reply.

"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.

"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.

You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.

"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.

"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.

You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs.

"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.

"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties.

"Please," you nod.

Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds.

"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp.

He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet.

"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him.

Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes.

"Hey-Where's Mark?"

You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer.

"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say.

"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"

You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."

Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue.

"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless.

"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you.

"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease.

[2:24 PM]

Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.

The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.

"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.

He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.

"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.

"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.

"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."

"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.

"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.

"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."

"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.

Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.

"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.

"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.

"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.

"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.

"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.

"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.

"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.

Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."

a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight

2K notes · View notes

disillusioneddanny · 8 months

Text

Welcome to the Family DPXDC

And yes, he was thankful for that space, honestly, he needed it more than he could even explain. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents strapping him down to the operating table. To his sister finding him when she came back for spring break three months later and trying to rip Jack away from Danny’s broken body, only for her to be thrown back. They said that she had hit her head on in just the right spot on the corner of the table. That her death had been painless. Danny had waited, hoping to see his sister come back as a ghost but she never did.

The anger had welled up inside of him, though, enough for him to break out of his bindings and run to Sam’s house for help. From there it had been quick. The Fentons had no proof that Danny was a ghost, Jazz was dead in their lab and Danny had a large vivesection wound held together by pins and needles.

From there it had gone by fast. Bruce Wayne had heard his story and opened his doors to him, an offer that Danny was quick to accept considering his only other option was Vlad and that was a major no for him. Danny had gotten stitched up rather quickly and the Fentons had been taken to trial where they had both been found incompetent by the courts and were sent to some prison for the mentally insane in the midwest. Thank the Ancients it wasn’t Arkham.

But things were starting to settle now. Danny was healed up. They had finally held a funeral for Jazz. And he was set to start school at Gotham Academy with his new little brother, Damian. Things were finally starting to settle.

Things were starting to settle and Danny was finally able to really look at his new family and notice the strange things about them. Honestly, coming from a weird family himself, he was more able to spot the bullshit from others. The first he had noticed was Damian. Apparently he hadn’t ocme to live with the Waynes until he was ten and Bruce had discovered he had a biiological son he had never known about.

Damian was fourteen now and he wasn’t normal, if Danny was going to be honest. Danny knew that the teenager had at least four weapons on him at all times. He had thrown a knife at Danny’s head one of his first nights here when Danny had made a joke that the kid didn’t like. He also struggled to understand common cues and comments, but not in a neurodivergent way. In a way that he had genuinely grown up without ever hearing about those things and it had Danny curious.

The others were strange too. Tim seemed like he had never slept, like he barely operated at all. Duke always looked at Danny like he had seen a ghost and tended to keep his distance more than their other siblings did. Cass looked at him the same way some of Danny’s rogues did, like she was watching his every single move. Jason reeked of death every time Danny saw him. The souls that latched onto him showed that he had taken quite a few lives. And not only that, but everyone in this family smelled and felt like they had all died and come back. He had never met a family so liminal outside of Amity Park.

Even Dick, the most normal of the siblings was liminal. It was throwing Danny for a loop because no one else in Gotham seemed to feel this way. So what were they hiding? Was this why they wanted Danny to join their family? Because like called to like and they knew Danny was something different?

Or was Bruce telling the truth when he had said that he had seen a teenage boy lose everything in a day and decided he couldn’t not help out?

It had been two months now and if he was going to be really honest, Danny was starting to grow bored. No more ghost fights, no more running from the Fentons, hell Bruce had even decided that he was going to go after the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts because even though he didn’t know Danny was actually a ghost, he found the acts ghastly and problematic. Danny nearly hugged him when he had said so. But the more bored he got, the more curious he seemed to get as well, he needed to know what was going on with this family.

“It’s not like they would know if I decided to take a look around. I live here,” he murmured to himself, staring at the fire crackling within the fireplace, still chewing on his thumbnail. “All I’m doing is seeing what kind of fruit loop my new dad is. All billionaires hide something and Bruce is definitely hiding something,” he reasoned to himself.

The halfa shook his head, the curiosity was going to drive him absolutely insane if he didn’t go and snoop. He stood from where he laid curled up on the couch and trekked back up to his bedroom. A room that was literally through times the size of his old bedroom.

It was still hard to believe that this was his life now. He carefully locked his bedroom door and felt the familiar rings of light wash over him before he transformed into his ghost form. The sixteen year old smiled at the familiar feel of intangibility wash over him and he slowly sunk through the floor, staying invisible as he went through each room of the house that was not a bedroom, looking through each one carefully to see if anything jumped out at him.

Then he made it to Bruce’s office just as Bruce himself stepped out of a door hidden behind an old grandfather clock and that’s when Danny knew he had caught him. Of course this was too good to be true! Bruce was far too perfect to not have something hidden deep inside.

He flew through the wall and found himself in an elevator and frowned before continuing down, down, down until he found himself in a large cave underneath the cave.

“Holy shit Batman,” he whispered as he started to fly around the stalacites, taking in the Batcomputer, the weird prizes the different vigilantes had one in their countless rogue fights. His eyes widened as he found Tim typing furiously at the Batcomputer, bags deep under his eyes and Danny took a look at what he was working on and held back a gasp.

When Bruce had said he was going to get rid of the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts he hadn’t really thought too much of it. It was Bruce Wayne, the playboy extraordinare who cared about all social causes that came across his desk.

But to know that the Bats were investigating it? With the Justice League? Danny’s mind was blown. He watched as Tim fought through the firewalls that Danny, Tucker, and Technus had set up to keep Amity Park a secret from the rest of the world and glanced down at his new older brother before back up at the screen and let out a sigh.

He could at least make their job easier.

He flew into the computer and started to break through each of the firewalls that they had put in place one by one before Tucker and Technus zoomed in on him.

Tucker had become just liminal enough to learn how to go into technology. He gave Danny a disapproving look as Technus stared at all the hard work they had done be ruined by Danny.

“What are you doing in here?” Tucker demanded, his eyes bright green as he stared Danny down.

“Red Robin is trying to get rid of the acts,” Danny said with a small smile. “Let him learn everything he can. I trust the Bats.”

Tucker and Technus scowled.

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Now get out of our territory before you destroy it even more,” Technus said, glaring at Danny over his sunglasses. Danny just grinned and flew out of the computer once more to find Tim dialing a number on his cellphone furiously.

“Babs! I finally got in! I don’t know what happened but all of the firewalls fell and Jesus Christ it’s worse than I thought. The Fentons recorded their experiments on Danny,” he said and Danny shuddered as he looked at the scream, hearing his screams fall on deaf ears. He had Tucker hide all of the video tapes as soon as he could to make sure that no one would see proof that Danny was more than just a human. But if they were going to get rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts then they needed all the proof that they could get that ghosts were sentient creatures.

He flew out of the Batcave quickly and made it back to his room where he turned back into his human form. Now he needed to decide. Did he tell the Waynes that he knew their secret? Or did he leave it alone?

He pursed his lips and fell back onto his bed as he fell into thought about it. Once Tim got through all of the videos, he was going to know that Danny was different, that he wasn’t just a normal human boy. Especially when he would get to the part where they cut Danny’s arm off and it grew back just a few days later.

Right now the ball was in his court, though. He knew that the bats were going to know that he was different, but he didn’t know if they were going to say anything about it. He could play with this. He grinned to himself.

He could have some fun with this.

…

“Danny! Dinner’s ready!” Duke called through his door and Danny grinned and headed out, already having come up with a plan for how he’s going to fuck with the bats.

He wanted to see how far he could push them until they admitted that they knew his secret and and that they were the bats. He wondered how long his new family could hold out before giving in and saying something.

So with that, Danny opened the door and grinned at Duke, who he now realized was the day time hero signal and explained why he not only kept his distance but looked at Danny like he had a second head most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Duke probably could see his true form and wouldn’t that be fun to mess with.

While Phantom was technically tucked away in Danny’s core, he was visible for those who could see beyond the veil. Duke was someone who could see beyond that veil and if Danny focused just enough he could alter his ghost form without even being in that form.

“Hey, thanks for grabbing me,” Danny said, imagining Phantom with ecto dripping from his eye sockets, his fangs grew longer and longer and his eyes turned pitch black. Phantom was looking like he came straight from a nightmare from what Danny could see in his mind’s eye and he smiled as Duke cringed away from him slightly.

“Of course,” he stammered out nervously. “Are you doing okay?”

Danny grinned, perking up slightly. “Yeah, I’m doing great actually. I’m really excited for school tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Duke just shook his head and shuddered lightly. “No reason.”

The two continued down to the dinner table and took their seats. Tim trudged in just a few minutes later and his eyes immediately fell onto Danny’s form. His eye twitched slightly as they raced up and down Danny’s body, taking in all of Danny’s limbs and noting that his facial features were all there.

“Are you okay, Tim?” Danny asked with a frown, his lips twisting up slightly.

Tim just stared at him warily and nodded once. “I am, are you? Doing okay, that is?” He asked, nerves apparent in his voice.

Danny just smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, as far as I can tell I’m okay. It’s funny, Duke was worried about my wellbeing too. It’s really nice, though. I wish I had someone asking if I was okay when my parents had removed my eyes during one of their sessions with me,” he said just as Alfred set a plate before him, the porcelain clattering against the table as he tried to recover from shock.

“You mean like, blindfolded you, right?” Dick asked hesitantly, looking up from his own plate of food and Danny just grinned and shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “I’m pretty sure my da-Jack used a melon baller to remove them, it was very painful and weird experience,” he said with a slight shudder. It was the frist time he had mentioned out loud some of the trauma he had experienced at the hands of the Fentons. And if he was being honest, it felt rather cathartic for him to actually talk about the torutre he had endured. Sure, judging from the horrified expressions of his new family members, it might not be hte most comfortable conversation but for him, it was nice to just say it, out loud.

His parents had tortured him. Had ripped him apart molecule by molecule and his body just forced him to regenerate, the electric ectoplasm that brought him back that fateful day in the portal continued to live inside of him, continued to bring him back from death over and over. It had made him realize that there’s a good chance that he was immortal. That his human half may never actually die.

And that was a terrifying thought.

Danny just happily continued eating his dinner, ignoring the horrified stares all around him. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun, he could feel it in his core.

….

It was a few nights later when Danny woke up to his stomach growling at like three in the morning. And of course, that mean he needed to go down to the kitchens and rifle through the refrigerator to find something to eat.

In all honesty, he had a major hankering for some fruit loops. Which led to him digging through the pantry that Alfred kept stocked up on all of Dick’s favorite cereals since he was the one who primarily ate them. He let his eyes glow in the dark as he searched, too lazy to turn on the lights and not particularly wanting to have the light ruin his post sleep glow. He dug around until finally find the box of sugary, fruity goodness and silently cheered to himself. Now he just needed to get some milk and a bowl and he would be a very happy ghost.

Danny allowed the box to float to the kitchen counter before he skipped towards the fridge and hummed. Did he want oatmilk, almond milk, whole milk, ancients there were so many options for milk.

He let out a hiss as the lights flickered on in the kitchen and slowly allowed his head to spin around on his neck to glare at whomever was evil enough to turn on the lights in the middle of the night. An ear piercing scream shook through the manor as Dick scrambled away from Danny and oh what a sight Danny was to see. His hair was bird’s nest on his head, his eyes were glowing bright green and he had twisted his head around his neck one hundred sixty degrees and let out an inhuman hiss.

Dick slammed his back against the wall as Danny allowed his eyes to turn blue once again and his head spun back around to normal just as Bruce and Tim came running into the room.

“What is it?” Danny asked innocently, cocking his head to the side, blinking his eyes owlishly at Dick. The poor vigilante was white as a sheet as he stared at Danny in horror. Bruce looked between his sons curiously.

“Three am cereal?” He asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at Danny. “I think I may make myself a bowl as well. How about you, Dick? Tim?”

“I-I think I’m going to go home to Bludhaven,” Dick stammered out, unable to look at Danny.

“Oh, well I hope you get home safe. Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely,” Bruce said cluelessly as he walked over to start making his own bowl of cereal. Tim gave Danny a wary look before he shook his head.

“I’m heading back to bed,” Tim muttered and Danny smiled to himself as he poured himself a large bowl of cereal.

“How are you doing, Chum? Are you getting settled?” Bruce asked, looking Danny over for a moment. Danny nodded and took a bite.

“You know that I know that you know,” he said simply as he chewed his cereal.

“I do,” Bruce said simply. “It’s pretty entertaining to watch the others.”

Danny swallowed his bite of cereal and grinned. “Glad you think so because this is the most fun I’ve had since you adopted me.”

“It will be good training for the others,” Bruce said as he poured himself a bowl of–

“You have your own brand of cereal!?” Danny exclaimed, looking at the cereal called Batman Crunch.

Bruce smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get any of the royalties for it. But it’s cookies and cream flavored,” he said before looking at the milk that Danny had pulled out, and poured some into his bowl. “Oatmilk, good choice.”

“I like the flavor,” he said with a shrug.

“Just so you know, if you ever want to join the nightlife, you’re welcome to it. But from what I understand, you never wanted it in the first place,” he said and Danny nodded his head.

“Too much work. For now, I just want to focus on school. Maybe when I graduate high school I’ll join you guys. But for now, I just want to focus on recovery and graduation. I appreciate all the space you’re giving me,” Danny said softly, stirring his spoon around in his bowl. Bruce just smiled and leaned his arms against the counter as he took a bite of his cereal.

“Of course. And when you’re ready to talk about it, without trying to scare your siblings, we can talk about it,” he said.

“You’re not mad?” Danny asked, glancing up at the older man. “That I didn’t tell you about me being, being dead? Or that I was a hero or how bad the Fentons,” he stopped and shuddered slightly. He couldn’t say the words out loud. It was one thing to joke about them removing body parts, it was easy to call them sessions. But to say out loud how badly he had been tortured? He couldn’t do it.

“Of course I’m not mad, Honey, you went through a very rough and traumatic time. Take all the time you need and we’ll be here for you as you heal and recover. And if any of your brothers or sister give you a hard time, I’ll tell them I was in on it.”

“How’d you know about me?” Danny asked before he took a bite of his fruitloops.

“Phantom disappeared the same time Danny Fenton allegedly ran away. Not to mention just taking one look at Phantom you can see the resemblance.”

“Phantom has blue skin!” Danny argued.

“And the exact same facial structure, Phantom just has a more prominent lichtenburg scar that you also have, just not nearly as noticeable.”

Danny hummed. “Guess they don’t call you the world’s greatest detective for nothin’,” he muttered before he picked up his bowl and started to drink the milk.

Bruce just chuckled and patted Danny’s back once he finished. “Get some sleep, Kiddo,” he said softly. Danny gave him a salute, a milk mustache on his face as he floated up in the air and through the ceilings to get back to his room.

…

Danny was bored again. He found himself haunting the manor late in the evening. Most of the bats were prepping for their night out on patrol. They were all under the impression that Danny was upstairs doing homework. He soon turned invisible and made his way into the Batcave where he found his siblings gathered around the Batcomputer watching one of the videos of Danny being tortured.

“Danny’s not fully human,” Tim stressed. “I’ve watched his parents remove his limbs and they just grow back in a few hours. Like good as new, no scar or anything! He wasn’t kidding when he said they removed his eyes!” He exclaimed.

Jason let out a hum. “It’s possible that the Fentons did it to him,” he reasoned. “Like their experiments turned him into a meta that let him regenerate.”

“How does that explain the fact that he was able to twist his head a hundred and sixty degrees?” Dick asked, shuddering slightly. “Or the way his eyes glow Lazarus green?”

“Or the monster that’s constantly floating behind him,” Duke whispered, looking like he had seen absolute horrors. Danny held back a snort, he still hadn’t even let Duke see his full eldritch horror form. It had been child’s play so far.

“He died in those experiments,” Dick said softly. “You can see him flatlining multiple times. Being killed and brought back so many times probably fucked up his body a lot. It probably did a lot to him.”

Danny hummed, that was a good theory. Wrong but made sense where they were coming from.

Bruce walked forward in his Batman suit and looked at Danny’s siblings. “Regardless of what you think is wrong with Danny, he’s our family and maybe one day he will feel comfortable telling us what happened to him. And if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. But until then, give him space and quit trying to investigate him. We’re trying to get rid of the anti-ecto acts, not investigate Danny,” he said seriously.

Danny smiled to himself and flew back up to his bedroom.

…

Jason sucked in a breath when he saw Danny asleep on the couch. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Sure, there was something slightly unsettling about Danny but he wasn’t a bad guy. The kid was insanely sweet and funny. He handled his trauma the same way Jason did, with constant jokes about his vivisection the same way Jason joked about his death.

But between the stories from Dick, Tim, and, Duke and watching the videos of what the Fentons had done to his newest littler brother, something about Danny just unnerved him. But Bruce had asked him to wake Danny up so that he can come down for dinner. It was simple, he just had to wake him up. What was the worst that could happen?

He padded over to Danny’s sleeping form and alost immediately realized something majorly wrong with the image in front of him.

Danny wasn’t breathing.

Jason rushed forward, shouting out for help, help from anyone really. He knelt beside Danny’s prone form and pressed his fingers to the pulse point on Danny’s wrist and frowned when he didn’t feel anything. He cursed before moving to start doing chest compressions, desperate to get him to open his eyes and breathe.

Dick and Bruce skidded into the room and ran over just as Danny sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“What are you doing!? Ow!” Danny shouted, slapping Jason’s hands away from him. “I think you broke my fucking rib,” he whined, rubbing at his side.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, looking between them concerned.

“He wasn’t breathing! He didn’t have a pulse!” Jason spluttered out, pointing at Danny who was frowning and pulling up his shirt to see if he was bruising yet or not. Beside Bruce, Dick let out a squeak, taking in the vivisection scar that still marred Danny’s chest. For some reason, all of Danny’s wounds from getting his body parts removed had healed just fine but the scar from being cut open over and over again stayed with him forever.

Bruce had given him scar cream to see if it would help but Danny had told him it would do nothing to help him.

“Oh yeah, it’s gnarly,” Danny said offhandedly. “The joys of having mad scientists for parents,” he said and sucked his teeth before he dropped his tshirt. “It’ll heal in like thirty minutes. Thanks for trying to save me I guess, but don’t stress, my heart just does that.”

“I thought you were dead!” Jason shouted, running a hand through his hair, utterly distraught.

Danny laughed and stood up, stretching as he did, his back popping a few times with the stretch. “Because I am,” he said simply.

…

Damian watched as his brother walked down the hall, texting on his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was not even bothering to raise his head to watch where he was going as he walked and Damian smirked to himself.

The idiot teenager was about to run face first into the wall and it would serve him right to break his nose for not paying attention to his surroundings. His smirk turned into a look of dismay, though, as Daniel walked straight through the wall without ever looking up.

There was something strange going on with his newest big brother and Damian was going to get to the bottom of it. It was clear that his siblings were not unfounded in their theories that Daniel was something other.

…

Danny grinned as he walked in on his final victim. He had managed to scare each of his siblings so far with his shenanigans and now he was finally going to get Cass. He had been trying to think of ways to throw her off kilter for a while now, but he had finally come to the perfect idea.

His family were gathered in the family room preparing to watch a movie together. Cass was curled up on the couch beside her girlfriend, the two talking quietly to one another. No one had noticed Danny walk in yet, which was rather typical.

He was lighter on his feet than any bat could ever dream. Even in his human form he had a sense of weightlessness to him that could only be attributed to his ghost form. Something that Danny had thought was interesting and also insanely thankful for considering it made it so much easier for him to sneak around when he was still living with the Fentons.

Danny creeped up behind Cass and Steph, a wide smile slowly growing on his face as he leaned down. “Mind if I sit with you two?” he asked, taking joy in the way both girls jumped in surprise, the rest of the family reacting similarly before giving Cass a shocked look of their own.

She turned to stare wide eyed at Danny and silently nodded once, unable to say a word.

“Sweet,” he said before hopping over the back of the couch and settling into the seat beside his sister. He reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn from Tim’s bowl and looked at the large screen. “What are we watching?”

…

Danny took his seat at the dining room table for dinner a few nights later and looked around at his siblings. Each one looked to be on edge, sending Danny worried, concerned looks every now and then. Danny had upped the hauntings in the manor, feeling more and more comfortable with changing to his ghost form and giving in to his ghostly behaviors. He had never really been able to do it in Amity, too much of a risk to haunt the house when his family hd weapons to destroy him at every corner.

But in Wayne Manor? He was free to roam the halls, to stare at dark shadows and just do what ghosts were meant to do. Haunt the manor. And the fact that his siblings would catch him every so often and get the life scared out of them was honestly just a nice bonus.

His core had never felt so content in his life. He was finally getting to give in to all of his ghostly behavior and now it was time to make it known to the others that he knew.

“You know,” Danny stated, taking a bite of his oatmeal. “I wasn’t expecting you all to be so chill about the whole dead thing. I thought you all would be more on edge with my weirdness. But considering you all are vigilantes it makes a lot more sense now why you were okay with a dead guy moving in.”

Tim choked on his coffee, drips splattered onto the table. “I’m sorry what?”he wheezed out.

Danny sat up and grinned. “What?” He asked before he took a sip of his chocolate milk. “You’re telling me that you watched all those tapes of my parents having their fun with me and never once realized I was dead? No living human being can endure the things I did and live to tell the tale. I’m dead.”

“But you have a heartbeat, you breathe,” Dick breathed out and Danny looked over at Jason.

“Do I, though?” He asked and Jason swallowed harshly as he remembered the way Danny’s chest didn’t move, how he felt no pulse no matter how hard he checked. “I thought a family of detectives would figure it out pretty quickly.”

Bright rings of light surrounded him for a moment and he showed his ghost form. “I’m Phantom,” he said with a sharp smile. He changed back to his human form and looked over at Bruce. “Bruce had me figured out before he even adopted me. I thought you all knew as well.”

“How did you know about us?” Duke asked.

Danny hummed. “Got bored, decided to explore the manor and imagine my surprise when I found the Batcave in the basement! From there it was easy to put together and I decided well, if I’m going to be living in a family of vigilantes there was no point in me hiding who I was. If anyone was going to accept the half dead kid, it would be you guys.”

“This family just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Dick mumbled, massaging his temples.

Bruce just smiled. “Danny, did I ever tell you that you have an alien starfish for a brother? His name is Jarro.”

I don’t plan on continuing this. Feel free to add if you want 💚💚

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dis writes #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp crossover #dis dreams #body horror cw

1K notes · View notes

cottonconnielvr · 10 months

Note

okayyy, another idea inspired by tt !

now this one, i can say maybe connie had the boys over even though he promised spoiled!reader they were gonna have a date day! no drops, no games, no boys, just her and con! so when she’s met with a group of men circled around the tv she rebuttals by walking around without any panties 🫣 you may continue my lady🫶🏾

I LOVE THISS

✩

“I know I know, i’m sorry princesa. we can just do it tomorrow,kay?” Connie’s thumbs move rapidly on his ps5 controller, his eyes not leaving the tv. You could hear a few laughs coming from his homeboys that were sitting too comfortably on your couch.

You did nothing but roll your eyes, his “boys” eyeing you up and down, staring at your ass a little too long. You stomped out of the living room, going into your room and closing the door.

You were genuinely upset with Connie. You were looking forward to your date night, you guys planned something simple; do a little shopping, have dinner, smoke n fuck, then have a barbie movie marathon.

But as you were preparing to get ready, Connie blessed you with the news “Some of the guys r gonna come over for a bit, just chill a lil bit” You immediately grew upset.

There were times where you felt as if Connie would always choose the streets, drugs, and money before you. He handles his business everyday, is one night away from it so bad?

Hours later, you could still hear the sounds of him doing stupid shit with his friends. You scrolled through instagram, feeling annoyed. Just then you came up with a very very smart idea! You knew the consequence you were gonna have to face after doing this but it was worth it, this would most definitely catch Connie’s attention.

You walked out of your shared room in an oversized graphic tee. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of gushers out of the pantry.

“SO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU CAN’T STACK WITH THE SAME COLOR?” Jean yells from his spot on the floor.

“NOOOOO YOU STACK BY NUMBER!!” Ony yells back, slapping the side of his head.

You rolled your eyes, loud ass mfs in my house

You walked over to Connie who was smoking a blunt, his hand immediately curving around your waist when you sat on his lap. Your shirt covered your bare glistening cunt, Connie’s muscular thigh pressing against you.

You held up a gusher to his mouth, him mindlessly eating it, passing the blunt to Eren.

“Pay attention to meee” You whispered to Connie, kissing up and down his neck. “I promise I gotchu right after they leave okay?” Your face went straight. You sat on his lap in defeat, you’ve never had to experience someone practically dismissing you.

Suddenly you dropped the package on the floor on purpose. You’d told up before bending down, flashing Connie your wet slit. You mentally smiled when you heard Connie stop talking. You stood up, walking to the trash can as if you were innocent.

You could feel Connie’s eyes on you, staring holes into the side of your face. “Y/N go in the room” He spoke out loud, causing you to look up.

At this point all his homeboys were staring. You could hear Eren snickering. Everyone in the room knew he was about to fuck your shit up, but they didn’t know why.

“Why?” You replied with the most sass and attitude you could generate. Connie didn’t say anything, just staring at you even harder if it was possible.

You sighed before rolling your eyes, walking into your room. Once your back was turned you couldn’t help but smile. I’m about to get dicked down, you sang in your head.

You could hear Connie dismissing all of his friends, finally

Your nerves began to rise just a bit when you heard the door close and lock. You hear Connie’s footsteps approaching your room.

“Fuck is your problem?” Connie closes the door behind it, locking that as well. You weren’t gonna run anywhere

“Connie you cancelled our fucking date night and then you act like you can’t even speak to me just because your “boys” are here” You snap at him, rolling your eyes before plopping back on the bed with your phone in hand, scrolling through instagram.

Before you can blink, Connie snatches your phone out of your hand. “Watch your mouth. I get that you’re upset but that doesn’t mean you walk around with no fucking panties on!” You roll your eyes once again. “Stop rolling your fucking eyes before I get ‘em stuck” Connie’s tattooed hand wraps around your throat, daring you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Connie harshly thrusts up into you. You can’t feel your legs and your arms are shaking, tired from holding up all your weight.

You found yourself in this position often but nothing could explain how exhausting it was. Connie stood in front of the bed, his hands on your waist as he dragged you back on him.

“I..i-m..mhm.. i’m so s-sorry” Your voice whined out, arms going limp as you fall face down on the bed. You can hardly breathe, your cunt tightening around Connie. “I’m sorry too…fuck! s-shit” Connie whines as he follows you down, his body practically on top of you.

He flips you over with one hand, his dick staying stuffed inside you. He looks at your dazed expression, your eyes glossy and lips pouty. “Gonna be good for me hmm?” Connie hums, his thumb rubbing at your clit.

“Y-yes!! I’m sorry…s-slow please” Your hand presses at his lower stomach. Connie only shakes his head, grabbing both of your hands and pining them above your head. His head finds home in the crook for your neck, licking and sucking all over your exposed skin.

His thrusts became more fluid, his hips moving harder against yours. You could feel him everywhere.

In the blink of an eye, you unexpectedly came around him. Connie winced as you squirted around him, triggering his orgasm.

He only fucked into you harder, your mind going blank.

“S-so good mami! F-fuck…” His voice trailed off, whiny and desperate. His thrust slowed to a halt, he looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your lips were parted.

“Always falling asleep” Connie thought to himself before kissing you awake.

2K notes · View notes

thewritingofamadwoman · 5 months

Text

Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)

Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙

“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”

“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”

“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”

“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”

Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.

Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.

“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.

Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.

“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.

Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.

“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.

“Oh? And what about my uniform?”

“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.

“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.

What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.

What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.

#billy hargrove x reader insert #billy hargove imagine #Billy Hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader

1K notes · View notes

flkwh0re · 2 months

Note

can I request a sugar mommy nat fic? w some phone sex and princess treatment :3

The Office

SugarMommy! Natasha x Reader

(this is how I imagine sugar mommy Natasha who loves you so much but when she gets stressed she just uses you to your fullest as a stress reliever)

W/c: 1k

A/n: Not phone sex cuz I cannot write that to save my life, but office sex is better!!

Warnings: mommy kink (Nat), strap on usage, breast worship, office sex, pussy slapping.

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

“But Nat what if your workers catch us.” You protested. “Don’t worry baby, no one will come in my office. Mommy needs you.”

Natasha had requested you make her lunch and bring it to her, and so you did. You would do anything for that woman. It all started when you met her at one of Tony Starks work parties.

A place where rich men and woman all gather to just blow their riches on expensive beverages, gambling, etc. Tony had allowed you to work one of the event in hopes to make a little extra cash.

You were a struggling college student, taking any job you could get; even though you already had one.

That was until you met Natasha Romanoff. A woman who had an abundance amount of cash, so much you could barley fathom someone having. It started as you just fulfilling her needs with sex, but it later turned into a different relationship.

Natasha confessed her love for you, after you had been seeing her for a few months. At first you were insecure with it, and felt like you were just using her for the money. You later felt content with yourself because you genuinely loved her.

Once word had gotten out about your relationship with Nat, things got very hectic very quickly. The media attention was almost too much to bear, but you never went out alone without Natasha.

“As long as we can lock the door.” Natasha chuckled at your worry, “You can lock the door honey.” You straightened up from your spot on Nat’s desk that you were leaning on.

Once you had locked the door your scurried back over to Natasha, sinking down onto her lap. Your lips hastily linked with hers, and her hands ventured your body.

They eventually found the belt loops of your jeans, linking and tugging slightly at the material. Your hands slipped around Natasha’s neck, pulling her impossibly close as the kiss became more and more heated.

Your hips began to grind down onto her skirt clad thighs. “Let’s get this shirt off, shall we?” Natasha asked as she tugged the hem of your shirt, then slipped it over your body.

“Hmm, wearing my favorite lacy bra? Seems like you were ready to beg mommy to fuck you baby. Were you?” You nod, “Yes mommy, I need you so bad.”

She faux pouted by slipping her bottom lip out, humming softly. But she really pitied you, you spent all morning preparing her a delicious meal so of course she had to pay you back.

“Sit on my desk baby.” She said softly, helping you stand up. Her hands slipped around your back and unclasped your bra, her lips momentarily pressed against yours again.

Her cold hands massaged your soft breast lightly, nipples hardening at her cold touch. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, lightly tugging before slipping her tongue past your lips.

She swallowed your moans as they left your lips when she’d twist and tug on your buds. As soon as her lips left yours, they wrapped around your nipples. Her teeth grazing the nubs, making you squirm.

“Mommy please, I need you.” You whined. With your beg, her fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans. She tugged them off you, admiring the panties that matched the bra you previously had on.

She slipped the lace off your body, her hands softly met your thighs as she moved them apart. Her nimble fingers softly grazed over your clit, pressing down slightly to give you a little pressure.

She slipped her ring finger into your aching cunt, shortly after she added a second. Your head was thrown back as she thrust her fingers in and out of you. Curling then to reach the spots you most wanted to be.

You wrapped your legs tightly around her waist, earning a harsh slap to your pussy. One thing about Natasha is she had to have full control, nothing could be there to hold her in place.

As her dominant hand thrust her digits into your pussy, her other hand toyed with your clit. Sending you spiraling, and soon to your orgasm.

She removed her hand from you, licking away and tasting your arousal. “Wait here.” She demanded before walking to the room attached to her office.

She walked back with a strap attached to her hips. Natasha helped you bend over her desk, her strong arms holding you up.

She ran the tip of the faux dick through your cunt, slipping the end into you. She teased at your hole, then slipped the full length in.

“Fuck detka, taking mommy’s cock so well.” She rasped into the shell of your ear, you could hear the animalistic haste in her voice.

She began to snap her hips back and forth, the length of the dick filling you full. It was almost too much for you to bear, but you took it to satisfy her. That’s all you ever wanted to do, no one had ever loved you like Natasha.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum, oh fuck!” You screamed as she slammed her hips into yours, and her hands gripped the sides of your lower back. “Cmon detka, cum on mommy’s cock. Let go for me sweetheart.”

Natasha watched as your cum began to gush out with each thrust from her. “Fuck detka, you did so good. Wait here.” Natasha walked off, then returned with a towel and her skirt back on.

She cleaned up your thighs and wiped the sweat off your forehead. “Here, put these on instead of your jeans.” She handed you a pair of sweats, and you kissed her cheek as a thanks.

“Do you have a lot more work Natty?” You asked as you redressed yourself. “Not much, why?” Natasha questioned.

“I was just hoping that before I went back home we could cuddle up for a bit on the couch.” You said, and a smile adorned her face. “I’d love that.”

Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #fanfic #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha fanfic #natahsa romanoff #natasha #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you

885 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

Bad Friend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Sex and Making A Bet On A Date On Getting A Date With A Girl.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.8K

Summary: After Rafe makes a bet with Topper, it leaves him in need of Y/N's help. Y/N doesn't believe in love, but through getting to know Rafe while helping him, she may start to rethink her thoughts about the feeling.

Masterlist

“I dare you to get Y/N to date you,” Topper challenges, taking a sip from his drink. Rafe’s eyes stare at the pair of girls stumbling over each other, laughing as they trip on the sand. They are obviously very drunk. Rafe doesn’t think he has ever seen her smile. The only person who could break Y/N’s enigmatic and emotionless composure is the girl currently being held up by her, Amanda. Rafe isn’t one to back down from a dare, but he also doesn’t chase after a lost cause. Love isn’t something that Y/N has ever sought after. It isn’t a secret to anyone on the island. She’s the product of an affair; her Kook father cheated on his wife with her Mainlander mother. She grew up listening to her mother’s stories about how charismatic boys always leave behind brokenhearted girls. About how even though Willard Graham genuinely did love Cordelia Y/L/N, the money his wife, who was back in the Outer Banks, would bring was more important than the little girl he bore with Cordelia. This didn’t stop Cordelia from moving to the Outer Banks and Willard didn’t object, he wanted to be in his daughter’s life. But that truth imprinted itself on Y/N. She saw how the possibility of love tore her mother apart and she vowed to never let herself go through the same thing. In fact, she abandoned all notions of emotions in general. Feelings made her vulnerable and vulnerability got her hurt.

Rafe doesn’t need to get tangled up in that mess. He pulls away from the sight of the best friends and shakes his head at Topper. “Nah, I don’t feel like dealing with her. She may be all bark and no bite, but I don’t want to deal with that yapping dog,” he refutes. Kelce chuckles, “Come on, you scared you won't be able to win her over. Or better yet, maybe you’re scared of her.” The rest of the senior boys laugh, teasing Rafe about being frightened by the junior. “Dude, I could get any girl I want. But if I’m going to be going after someone, I might as well go for someone that’s actually hot. Y/N looks like she fucks about as good as a sack of potatoes,” Rafe disagrees.

Topper gives into Rafe’s demands for a different target, “Fine. How about Amanda? We’ve all heard the rumours about her in bed, but she will be hard to get with guard dog Y/N by her side. So I bet you can’t get Amanda to go on a date with you by the end of the summer.” He spots the girls again from across the fire. “What do I get if I win?” Rafe questions, swirling the solo cup in his hand. What’s the point of a bet if Rafe doesn’t gain anything from it? “Bragging rights,” Topper continues when he sees Rafe’s raised eyebrows. “And… we’ll each give you two thousand dollars.” This piques Rafe’s interest. He honestly would’ve done it for the bragging rights, ten thousand is a raindrop compared to the ocean of his family wealth, but it’s always fun to get a little extra money. Before Rafe can agree, Kelce speaks up with his own question. “Hold on, what do we get if you lose?” Rafe’s hand reaches for his chin, rubbing it as he thinks about what he can offer. Money is a plausible option, yet it’s nothing to the rich Kooks. He feels the buzz of his phone with a notification from Barry saying that his next stock is ready. A lightbulb shines in his mind. “I’ll give you all free blow for a month,” he suggests, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Sure, they can afford their own drugs, yet the principle of getting stuff for free gets to anyone. His friends grin at him. “Deal.”

———

Amanda Dalton. One of the sweetest Kooks around and also the most innocent. She’s the epitome of the dumb blonde stereotype, no matter how much Y/N tries to help her friend out. “Y/N, what state is Canada in? I can’t find this on the map?” Amanda asks, searching through the American map. Y/N sighs and searches up a map of North America, “Babe, Canada is its own country. See. It’s right on top of America. So it’s not a state.” Amanda concentrates on her friend’s phone. “Oh, that makes sense,” she whispers, going back to typing on her phone. Y/N puts her phone away and continues to paint her nails, “Why do you want to know?” “Well, I wanted to buy tickets for the Era’s tour in To…ron…to. It says it’s in Canada,” Amanda explains.

“Toronto? That is in Canada.”

“How about Vancouver? It says British Columbia. Is that in England? I’ve always wanted to go to England.”

“No, Babe. Vancouver is in Canada. British Columbia is the province. It’s like a State. Why are you looking at other concerts anyway? Didn’t your dad already get us the tickets for the concert and plane?”

Amanda nods, “He did. I wanted to go to another one. I guess I won’t be though. Thank you for coming by the way. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of concerts.” Y/N looks up at her friend with a smile. “No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that. Plus, someone has to keep you safe.” Y/N takes Amanda’s hand, starting to paint the girl’s nails without asking. Much to the girls’ surprise, the sliding door opens and Rafe appears before their eyes. “Hello, ladies. How are we today?” he questions with a smile. He settles in the chair between the girls and leans forward on the table. “What are you doing here?” The friends postulate at the same time. Amanda with curiosity. Y/N with annoyance. He flashes his pearly teeth, “Mr. Dalton asked me to come over. I’m helping my dad with the company and he is making a deal with Mr. Dalton, so I offered to come over to go over the contract one more time.”

“How sweet!” Amanda gushes. Y/N has the opposite idea, “So why are you with us right now?” Rafe ignores the latter and turns to the former. “Not as sweet as your cupcakes. Your little brother let me try one and it was delicious,” he compliments. Y/N knits her eyebrows together. She doesn’t understand why Rafe is being so nice. He’s only polite to people he wants something out of. Amanda’s cheeks turn red and she turns her head to hide it, “Thank you. It’s a new recipe.” “Well, it was really good. If you like cupcakes, I know this great bakery on Maine Street. Maybe… maybe I can take you some time,” he proposes with a charming grin. Amanda’s eyes start to twinkle, “I would love that. Y/N and I love cupcakes. Her favourite is salted caramel. Do they have them?” Rafe is about to correct the assumption that Y/N is invited when the door opens again.

“Rafe, thank you for waiting and coming over. I’m ready to go over the contract now,” Mr. Dalton announces, giving Rafe room to walk back into the house. Rafe bids goodbye to the girls and follows Mr. Dalton inside.

———

Y/N closes the front door behind her, making sure to yell out to the family to lock the door after her. The gravel gives way to the pressure of her feet and she puts her headphones on as she picks up her bike from the ground. Her father tried to buy her a car, but she wouldn’t take it. The only thing she allows Mr. Graham to do for her is to pay her tuition at Kildare Academy, but she refuses his help for anything else. She even started working at The Wreck so that she could grow independent from him in university. Unlike most people in the Outer Banks, Y/N doesn’t really belong to either of the tribes. Her father is a wealthy judge, who is the son of an affluent lawyer and doctor. Her mother makes enough as a software developer for them to sit comfortably, nowhere near Kook level, yet also more than the Pogues. Sometimes it’s hard for Y/N to be in the middle of both worlds. Both accept her into their groups, except for the times when she does something that goes against their nature and then it’s like she belongs to neither. Like when she went to Midsummer as a guest, the Pogues were quick to mock her for being a part of the tradition. Or when she sided with the Pogues during a fight between the two groups and suddenly, the Kooks didn’t know who she was.

Before she hops on the bike, the front door opening and closing causes her to turn around. She thought maybe she had forgotten something and Amanda was coming to bring it to her. Instead, she finds Rafe watching her. Rafe isn’t expecting to see Y/N at the end of the driveway. He didn’t see her when he said goodbye to Amanda, so he assumed she had left a while ago. As they stare at each other, an idea pops into Rafe’s mind. It’s a long shot, except if he can get her to do it, then it would help him along with the bet. Even though, Amanda isn’t a virgin, everyone knows she can be a little ditsy in terms of actual dating. As made evident in his earlier conversation with her, she isn’t the greatest at detecting that someone is flirting with her. He knows that the way other people have had sex with her is because she approached them and Rafe didn’t want to play the game like that. It would be too easy. Plus, Y/N backs off the guys if Amanda is the one to initiate it. He is here to play the game, so he will.

“Do you want a ride?” he calls out, opening the passenger’s side door for her. Y/N considers it for a second. It would take her around thirty minutes to bike home and only ten minutes by drive. All it takes is for her to notice the setting sun for her to come closer to him. She doesn’t say anything as she opens the back of the truck bed. She struggles a little with putting her bike in the back, so Rafe helps her out. His hand accidentally grazes her arm and she jerks it away from him as soon as she feels his touch. She storms off into the car. Rafe sighs and closes up the back. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The truck sits in silence before she breaks it. “What are you up to with Amanda?” she interrogates, not looking away from out the window. Rafe isn’t sure how to word his proposition, “Nothing, I was just being nice.” “That’s a lie. Everyone knows that isn’t in your vocabulary,” she retorts. He shrugs and looks back at the road, “Maybe it is now. Amanda is a darling. She deserves to be treated in a pleasant way.”

“You don’t treat your own sister like that. What makes Amanda so special?”

“I don’t know maybe I like her…”

He tries to make the words as genuine as he can, looking over to Y/N to further the believability. “Ha, I’m not going to let you go anywhere near her,” she laughs. This is his opportunity, “You might change your mind once you hear what I have to offer.” The joy she feels stops abruptly. She shouldn’t be intrigued, yet she is. He takes her silence as a motion to keep going, “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars if you help me get a date with Amanda.” Her first instinct is to reject him, “You are ridiculous if you think I would do that to my best friend.”

“Why not? You aren’t doing anything bad. I don’t want to hurt her. Just take her on a date. No offence to her, but we both know that talking to her can make you feel like a catapult. Everything goes over her head.”

“It’s practically selling my friend to you for 10K. I’m not doing it.”

“You aren’t selling her to me, just helping me out. Like a consultant. You could use the money for university. I bet it would go a long way.”

He got her. He can see the moment her frown turns to interest and he has to stop himself from celebrating. Her mind hates her right now. How could her mood instantly change at such a selfish thought? She thought that she was more loyal and had better values than that. However, the money would help her out a lot with tuition and it’s not like Amanda has to know. “Fine, I’ll help you.” This is a bad idea.

———

Closer to closing The Wreck is practically a desert town. Y/N sits at the counter, reading over her textbook. “I’d like a table for two, please,” a voice interrupts her studying. She looks up to see that Rafe is alone. She chuckles, “And who is going to be joining you? Your ghost girlfriend.” “Haha. I forgot how funny you are. No, you are,” he reacts, waiting for her to give him a table. She gets up to get him a menu, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.” “There is no one here, Y/N. If someone does come, then I wouldn’t get angry at you for getting up to help them,” he points out, holding his hand out to the booth he decided to sit at since she isn’t moving. She huffs in defeat and joins him at the table. “Did you want to order anything? I don’t think Mike and Anna would like it if I just let you hang out here,” she informs before sitting down. Rafe glances over the menu, “Ugh, a cheeseburger, fries and a coke for me, please. And then get whatever you want. On me.” Y/N’s eyebrows rise at the mention of a please and that he’ll pay for her food. She isn’t going to argue though because who doesn’t like free food?

Rafe plays with his rings while he waits for her to return. “Alright, I put the order in,” she tells him, sliding into the booth across from him. He nods and looks down, “Thanks.” She waits for him to talk and gets annoyed when he doesn’t. “Why did you come here, Rafe?” she asks with irk dripping from her voice. He gathers his thoughts, “You said you’d help me get through to Amanda. So what can you tell me?” “Right. Then I have two things I want to bring up. One. I’m going to quiz you to make sure you actually care for her. Two. If you pass, we are going over the terms of this deal,” she lists with two fingers up. Nerves cause goosebumps to run up and down his arms. The prospect of being quizzed on Amanda makes him worry that he won’t be able to keep up this charade. He extends his hand out, motioning for her to continue. “I’ll start easy. When is her birthday?” she tests.

“May 25th.”

“Correct. What’s her favourite TV show?”

“She says The Good Place because it’s your favourite, but it’s really The Bachelorette.”

“Okay. Last year, she had an allergic reaction to something. What was it?”

“She got stung by a bee.”

“Right. Final question, what does she do when she gets nervous.” Rafe pauses for a second. He has no idea what the answer is. The only reason why he knows all the other stuff is because Amanda is a loud talker, but something that comes from an observance of her wouldn’t register in his brain. As he thinks, his eyes are drawn to the way Y/N’s fingers dance along the table. He can tell they are moving in a pattern but he can’t keep track of it. “Are you going to answer the question?” she impatiently queries. He focuses on her face, “No, I honestly don’t know. I really do like her. I promise.” “Your promises don’t mean anything to me, but you still pass. I was going to help you anyway, knowing those things don’t mean anything. I just wanted to make you suffer a little,” she teases with a soft smile that Rafe enjoys. He chuckles, “You got me. So, to go over the deal. As long as she goes on a date with me by the end of the summer, you get your money. Does that work for you?” “It works perfectly. I’m going to add that I am not going to let you do anything that hurts her and if you do it behind my back, I’m going to chop your dick off and sell it on the black market to be eaten by the creepiest bidder,” she threatens, her finger pointed at him. He extends his hand out to her, “Deal.”

———

Y/N readjusts the magazines on the ottoman one more time. She doesn’t know why she told Rafe to come over to her house, but there is more of a chance that they get caught by her going over to his house than by him coming over to hers. There are always more eyeballs on Tannyhill. She is snapped out of her worry by the ding-dong that sounds throughout the house. Her sock-covered feet glide against the hardwood floors as she hurries to answer the door. “Hi,” she greets a little out of breath from her cartoon-like slip. “Come in.” She steps out of the way so Rafe can make his way inside. He enters the house and takes off his shoes once he notices the pile by the door. His eyes examine the open plan of the house. Her house isn’t anything like one would find on the Cut, yet it also isn’t as big as the ones in the Figure Eight. It was brand new when Cordelia bought it and since then, it has undergone small renovations as necessary.

“I get that it isn’t as big as your house. You don’t need to make googly eyes like that though,” she comments, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink. He shakes his head, “No, I wasn’t thinking that. Your house looks cozy. I like it.” “Well, I don’t care for your approval. Do you want something to drink?” she offers, holding up a can of coke. Rafe doesn’t know if the choice of drink is because she is getting one for herself or if she remembers his order from The Wreck. His head flicks up to signal he does want one. He settles on the couch and listens to the sound of the can being cracked open. She pours the drink into a glass with ice, walking over to join him on the couch. When she places her water next to his bubbly pop, he concludes that she remembered his order and this causes his stomach to flip. He could tell people a hundred times what his favourite food is and he would bet all his money they wouldn’t hold the information in their brain. She takes a sip from her drink, “You have to be more direct when it comes to Amanda, but also not too obvious with what you want or you’ll scare her off.” “If I have to be clear and not clear at the same time, where does that leave me?” he questions with a chuckle. She holds her fingers up so they are practically touching, “In this sweet spot that gets you a date with her.” He sits against the back of the couch. “Okay, so how do I get in that sweet spot?” he inquires, drinking from his cup. “Movies. Recreate a famous movie scene and that’s when it will click in for her.”

“What kind of movies? Like romcoms?” he gets her to clarify. She nods and squats in front of the entertainment centre under the television. She pulls out different DVDs, placing them in front of him. “Yep, we are going to watch all of her favourite rom-com movies, so take notes,” she tells him. He looks at the spread in front of him, “You actually have DVDs.” “Yeah, these cheer Amanda up when she is down and you never know when streaming services will take them down,” she says nonchalantly. He gives her a soft gaze, “You must like the movies too if you bought them though.” “Not really. They’re okay. I prefer mystery movies. Knives Out, A Simple Favor, The Menu. You know, stuff like that,” she lists while popping in the first movie. Rafe thinks it’s sweet that Y/N went out of the way to buy these comfort things for her best friend.

During the ads, Y/N goes to the kitchen to get some snacks for them. The variety she has is impressive, yet he doesn’t find the quintessential movie night snack. “No popcorn? Not that I’m complaining.” She brings the box of donuts in her lap, “Nah, who needs to fill up on that shit when I’ve got Krispy Kreme donuts.” He watches as she picks up a jelly-filled donut and bites into it. She lets out a small moan, pulling the treat away from her mouth to leave behind the red jam at the corner of her lips. The sound she made went straight to his brain, the one downstairs. His hand goes up to his own mouth to hint at the mess on her face. She wipes at the wrong side, so he goes to wipe the correct corner. She jerks away from him, “It’s okay I got it.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping his gaze with shame. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. I just don’t like being touched. Do you want a donut?” He picks out a regular glazed donut and eats it. “You are right, these are better than popcorn. I have to ask though, why donuts over popcorn?”

“My mom never liked popcorn. Said they made the house smell when you popped it and the kernels were a choking hazard. Plus, since Krispy Kreme isn’t on the island, she’d make it a whole event when we went to the main island to get them for movie night.”

“That sounds fun. Are the jelly donuts your favourite?”

“Yep, I like strawberries and who doesn’t like powdered sugar.”

“True, both very valid reasons to like it. Can I have one?”

She pulls the box away from him, “That’s a funny joke. These ones are mine.” “You’re territorial, noted,” he thinks out loud. The movie starts and a hush falls on both of them. After watching a few movies, they take a break to go to the bathroom. “Do you want to watch The Good Place?” he proposes as she walks back into the room. She tilts her head at him, “Sure. I meant to ask. How do you know it’s my favourite show?” He changes the TV to the Firestick and pulls up the show on Netflix. His shoulder rises, “You talked about it in philosophy class. It was what you made your presentation on and you sounded so passionate about it that it was clear how much you liked the show.” “Huh, I didn’t think you would notice that,” she thinks out loud. He gives her a pointed look, “I’m not as unobservant as people think that I am, you know. I do actually listen when other people speak.” She smirks at him. “Really? I wasn’t aware your ears had the ability to listen.”

———

The sight before her is one that she never dreamed of seeing. She honestly isn’t sure if her rom-com plan is going to work, but getting Rafe to recreate the movie and the money is worth the lie she told him. It wasn’t hard to get most of their class to come to the football field during the summer. Everyone will do what Rafe would say and people are too scared of Y/N to argue. When the speaker turns on with a loud screech, multiple people duck with their hands covering their ears. The beginning melodies of “Can’t Take My Eyes off Of You” by Frankie Valli start to play and out comes Rafe from behind the bleachers. He sings the lyrics as he moves from side to side of the rows, pointing to Amanda to make it clear who he is talking to. Y/N glances at her friend to see the other girl’s eyebrows connected. She nudges her friend with her elbow, “I think he is serenading you.” “Like in 10 Things I Hate About You?” Amanda’s eyes brighten. Y/N’s head moves up and down, “I think so.” Amanda’s hands come together near her heart and a smile paints on her face.

“This is so sweet. Do you think he wants to fuck?”

“Babe, for him to go through all of this, I think he wants to do a lot more than have sex.”

The song finishes and Rafe hops over bench after bench to run in front of Amanda. “Please go on a date with me, Beautiful,” Rafe pleads. Y/N should feel happy that the plan is working. The look on her best friend’s face says it all, yet it doesn’t help the ugly roar she wants to let out at the nickname he used. She is pulled out of her thoughts by Amanda screaming yes. Amanda flings herself into his arms and kisses his face. The student body claps to congratulate the pair. With the endgame achieved, Y/N feels she is overstepping, so she starts heading back to her bike.

A voice from behind her halts her departure. “Hey, Y/N, wait. Where are you going?” She spins around to see Rafe chasing after her. “I’m heading home. You got your date to go on and I’ll wait until you go on it to collect what you owe me,” she says, getting on her bike. Right as she is about to petal off, Rafe runs in front of her and grabs her handlebars so she can’t go further. His head moves from side to side, “We are going out tomorrow. She has dinner planned with her family tonight, so I thought that maybe as a thank you, we can go to the Mainland and get some doughnuts.” “From Krispy Kreme?” she mutters, playing with the knob of her bike bell. He smiles, “Where else? Come on, we can make an afternoon out of it. I think it would be fun.” “And why would you want to spend more time with me? I’m not the one that you like,” she responds. His fingers meet her hands on the bar. When she doesn’t flinch, Rafe thinks she lied about not liking being touched or maybe her feelings about him have changed. “Because I’m grateful that you are helping me and I want to thank you.”

“You will thank me with the ten thousand dollars that you give me.”

Rafe doesn’t know why he insists on taking Y/N out; he really wants to spend the afternoon with Y/N.

“Are you really turning down a free doughnut? I saw that box, you don’t have any more strawberry jelly doughnuts to fill your tummy, Petite Louve.”

Three years of French means that Y/N can easily translate the nickname he calls her. Little Wolf. She wants to ask why he called her that, except her rumbling stomach gets her to agree with his statement instead, “Fine, let’s go.” Rafe lets out a victorious whoop and he helps her off her bike. They walk beside each other to his car. Y/N would bump her hip against his every once in a while, which would cause him to knock into the bike that he was holding for her. He could only chuckle every time she did so.

———

“How can you drink that? It’s basically all sugar?”

“Says the person who is about to eat a bunch of donuts. I don’t think you can judge me though because you are drinking pure dark roast. No wonder you are so bitter.”

Y/N giggles, “I will have you know that my bitterness is due to the fact that most people suck.” “Hm, that makes more sense. Here, try some. Maybe it will make you a little sweeter,” he offers. He tips the straw in her direction. The light brown slushy-like drink is topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Her lips wrap around the tube and suck. Rafe tries to stop the intruding thought of her lips being around something else. He doesn’t know why the image came into his mind; he shouldn’t think of her like that. Her face scrunches as soon as the sweet liquid hits her tongue. “Blegh, I was right. This is too sweet,” she criticizes. She hands him back his drink and their hands brush against each other. He laughs at her reaction and she loves the way it sounds. He takes a sip from his drink, “Why am I not surprised that it’s too sweet for you, Petite Louve?” She stops swirling the coffee cup in her hand and looks up at him. “Why did you start calling me that?” she queries. He leans back in his chair, “Call you what?” “Petite Louve,” she utters without hesitation. His elbows meet the table as he places his head on his hands, “It means little wolf.” He knows what she wants to know, except he is enjoying this game. She rolls her eyes and her arms cross one on top of the other. “I was in your French class last year, Rafe. I know what it means,” she scolds, giving him a dead stare. Rafe’s hands go up in defence, “Alright, alright. It’s because wolves are protective of their pack and they don’t often let outsiders in. That’s how you are with your pack.”

“I see. Wolves are pretty cool so I accept that nickname,” she concludes. He lets out a satisfied breath, “They are. So are you going to eat your doughnut or are we going to stare at it all afternoon?” Her eyes dart to the white puff piece in front of her. She picks it out and holds it up to him. He gives her a raised eyebrow. “Because you let me try your drink,” she clarifies, waving it in his face. He takes a bite and similar to what happened to her a few days ago, a small red blob forms at the corner of his lips. Her arm instinctively reaches for his face and wipes the smear off his face. She uses the napkin to clean off her thumb. “Thanks,” he shows his gratitude by offering the doughnut he picked out for himself.

She takes a bite out of it and they eat in silence for a few minutes. “I totally embarrassed myself this afternoon, didn’t I?” he verifies between bites of his caramel Kreme crunch. A grin forms on her face as she recalls the events, “I thought it was hilarious. Unfortunately, from what I saw on Insta, every girl found it romantic and every guy wished they thought of it to get into Amanda’s pants.” Rafe can see the gears turning behind her eyes. “You are planning their downfall, aren’t you?” Her grin turns wicked, “Most definitely. They are going to regret the shit they said.” “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what you have planned for those guys,” he informs. They had about two more doughnuts each before packing up the rest for home. He opens the door for her and hovers his hand on her lower back as he guides her to his car, making sure not to make any contact with her. She can feel the heat emanating from his hand and wishes that she can feel the weight of it. He pulls the passenger’s side door open for her, closing it once she is safely in the truck. As he drives to the ferry, his eyes dart toward her and drink in her appearance. Her shoes are resting firmly on the floor mat while her sock-clad feet are curled under her leg. She leans back against the car seat with her hands on her knee. The slight dip at the corner of her lips does not stop her from mouthing along to the lyrics of the song.

Her clothes aren’t name-brand like the other Kook girls. It looks like something she could get at any generic store. However, one thing stands out to Rafe as he watches her stick her hand out the window to glide with the wind. A gold bracelet with three small diamonds slid down her right arm. Only one person could’ve gotten her that Tiffany & Co. bracelet. “Why won’t you let your dad pay for your university?” The hand out the window drops onto her lap. She fiddles with her bracelet. “He didn’t want to be in my life. The only reason why he suddenly cared about my existence is because my mother moved here, so I could be closer to him. He solely cared for me when it fits into his life,” she begins. “If he pays for my university tuition, then it’s going to be like I owe him something. And the last thing I want is to owe that man something.”

Rafe nods as she says, “If you don’t want to owe him anything, then why are you going to Kildare Academy? It’s not like you can’t go to Kildare Country.” “It’s an agreement I made with my mom. She agreed that I could pay for university if he pays for private school,” she shrugs. He finds it refreshing that, even though she could choose to be taken care of, she wants to provide for herself and work hard to be able to do so. The car slows once her house comes into view. It comes to a stop and Rafe reaches behind the seats for the box of doughnuts in the back. His hand accidentally brushes her shoulder; she doesn’t flinch away. Instead, she wishes his warmth would remain against her skin. He turns toward her and rests it on her lap. “Thanks… for everything. It was really nice of you,” her voice is barely above the sound of a mouse. He flashes her a smile, “No problem. And should I be concerned that you are being kind to me? Are you playing nice so I don’t suspect you are going to kill me?” “Haha, I’ll have you know that I can be delightful sometimes,” she retorts. Her eyes wander down his face to his pink lips. They appear to be softer than she expected. He doesn’t seem like the type to use lip balm. He notices her line of sight and instinctively, he examines the curve of her lips.

His head leans forward and she follows his lead. A knock at the window causes them to jump away from each other. “Hey, Baby! Where have you been?” Cordelia yells through the window. “Is that Rafe Cameron beside you?” The mother squints at the boy sitting beside her daughter. “Yes, Mom, it’s Rafe. We went to the Mainland for doughnuts. We brought you back the glazed chocolate cake ones you like,” Y/N reports to her mother whilst rolling down the windows. Rafe’s head peeks out from behind Y/N’s head, “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” They wave at each other and Cordelia smiles at the two of them. “Please, call me Cordelia. You bought me dessert. Do you want to come inside for dinner? We are probably going to order from The Wreck,” she suggests. Rafe shakes his head with tight lips, “I would love to if I didn’t have to go to dinner with my family tonight.” “Ahh, that’s too bad. You definitely have to come over another time,” she encourages. He assents to the statement, “It would be my pleasure.” Y/N gets out of the car, gathers her bike from the back and the women bid Rafe au dieu as he drives back home.

“You and Rafe would make a pretty cute couple.” Y/N’s eyes orbit themselves, “We aren’t a couple, Mom.” “Sureee. I saw you guys were about to kiss. It was funny seeing how fast you guys jumped away from each other,” the mother taunts her daughter. Y/N groans, “Forget about delivery, I’ll pick up our food myself.” She hops on her bike and starts making her way to the restaurant. “You can’t escape my questioning forever, Baby,” Cordelia screams to the girl fading into the distance.

———

He didn’t want to lie with Y/N close by; he couldn’t exactly reveal to her that he was going to meet up with his friends to collect his winnings from a bet. It would ruin everything if she found out about the bet. “I think it’s cheating that you got Y/N to help you out,” Topper objects, setting his stack of money on the table. He shrugs, “We didn’t mention anything about getting outside help. We merely talked about me getting a date with Amanda, which I am going on tomorrow.” Rafe counts the money, listening to his friend complain to the others.

———

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother said. When she got home, her mother wouldn’t believe that Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend until she told the older woman he was going on a date with Amanda. Despite that, her mind is plagued with the idea of being his girlfriend. She’s never felt this way before about someone. She shouldn’t feel this way about him. Love isn’t something that is on her checklist for things she wants to achieve in life. “Get out of my brain you insufferable man,” she grumbles to herself. She twists to rest on her other side, watching the light shine on her bedroom wall as a car drives by. Why can she still feel the warmth of his hand at the bottom of her back? Why didn’t she feel uncomfortable by his touch on her shoulder? She places her hand over the shoulder he touched, trying to simulate his touch. It doesn’t feel the same. Her hand drops to her elbow and she goes through the day. The envy she felt at Rafe calling Amanda beautiful. The sweet gesture of going out of his way to take her somewhere that means so much to her. The way he respected her boundaries about being touched when she didn’t initiate it. These all lead her to one conclusion she can’t make sense of. She must be falling in love with Rafe Cameron. And there is one thing she needs to do before his date tomorrow that is going to make her a bad friend.

———

Rafe jogs over to the front door and swings it open. “Hey, I got your money. I was going to give it to you tomorrow… I can get it for you now if you want,” he propositions, stepping back to head upstairs. Her hand darts out to grab his wrist. At the contact, she retracts her arm back to her side with a mumbled sorry. “It’s okay, come in. If you aren’t here for the cash, what did you want to talk about?” he queries. She avoids the windows to his soul and plays with the bottom of her sweater’s sleeve. “Petite Louve, are you okay?” he worries, his hands ghosting the side of her arms. Her normal assurance seems to have evaporated completely from her body. She finally has the confidence to look at him, “Do you really like Amanda?” He pauses, unsure of what to say. “O-of course I do. Why else would I ask for your help with asking her out if I didn’t?”

“Maybe… maybe at the time you thought you liked her.”

“I did and I still do.”

“Do you really though? Because you don’t have any chemistry with her. Not like you do with... With me.”

His emotions flood him like an ocean overtaking a desert. How can he deny something so true? Except he has too. Not simply because of his bet on Amanda, but because what do two people like them know about romantic devotion? One who doesn’t believe in it and the other who enjoys the chase too much to care about commitment. When the pads of her fingers grazed his face yesterday, he thought he would do anything else to have it on him again. He’d chop off the hand of anyone else who tried to touch him if it meant forgetting what she made him sense. With her standing in front of him, he could have all of that. However, he knows how fragile her heart is and he can’t be the one to accidentally break it.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Y/N. I like Amanda and I’m going on a date with her. What else would all of this be for? You and I are purely friends and I value that friendship.”

A dagger to her back isn’t the word for what this feels like. It’s more accurate to say that he put a bag over her head and held it there to leave her gasping for air. This is why she doesn’t believe in love. Because right when a person thinks they have it, the universe rips it away from them in some cruel act. It’s what happened to her mother and it is what’s happening to her at this moment. She fights back the swell that is trying to burst through her tear ducts. She steps away from him, inching toward the front door. Her head swivels to the side and she watches the potted plant on the side sway with the wind. “Right, friends. How could I be so wrong? I mean what would I know about love if I’ve never been in it? I’m going to go. Good luck on your date,” she apologizes, leaving without letting him say another word. Once she is gone, Rafe doesn’t know how he keeps himself upright. His head feels dizzy and his heart is being put through a shredder. He had to do it. There is no happy ending for them. Not for two people who have no idea what it is to be in love.

———

A month with Amanda was one month too long. Every date they went on further proved the mistake he made the day of their first date. He tried to be the boyfriend she deserved. Tried to fall in love with her. Just because it started as a dare, doesn’t mean it can’t be more for him. Nothing he did could make that sentiment true. His mind was occupied with someone else. With someone, he is trying to protect by lying about how he truly feels about her. This was wrong though and he knew how he could fix it. “And my dress to the party is going to be light pink, so I need your tie to mat-” Amanda can’t finish her thought cause Rafe interrupts her. “I think we should break up.” Her lips move to form soundless words. “Wh-what do you mean?” she cries with her bottom lip quivering. “We aren’t working out. I think it’s best that we break up,” he justifies. He gets up from the table and jogs out of the coffee shop to his car. If they never dated, then he couldn’t break her heart. Except it also meant he didn’t get to spend any more doughnut days. He didn’t get any more afternoons watching The Good Place. He didn’t go to The Wreck out of fear of seeing her. Getting those moments with her is worth the possibility of ending up unhappy because then he would have the good memories they made to keep him company. Mistakes can be made and they can also be fixed.

———

Topper and Kelce talk at the booth in the corner, pausing every time Y/N gets close to them. She pays no real attention to them whilst she cleans the table around them. She focuses on finishing her task so she can go home when her shift finishes in ten minutes. Once she finishes wiping down the table, she picks up the bus tub and starts to head toward the kitchen. Her hand goes for her phone, which makes her realize she left her phone on the chair back there. She spins to get it and catches the back end of the boys’ conversation. “I mean not only does he call her a dog, but he also compared her fuckability to a bag of potatoes and the universe is still like ‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help you win 10K by helping you get a date with her best friend.’ I mean how is that fair.” The tub at the side of her hip clatters on the ground, causing the friends to turn in her direction. “Shit,” Topper whispers. She storms toward them and slams her hands against the table, “Tell me everything.” And for fear of their dicks, they divulge every single detail about that night at the bonfire.

———

Thanks to Sarah, who asked Kiara, Rafe knew that Y/N was working today and that her shift was about to end. He leans up against the truck, waiting for her to exit the restaurant. He thinks against putting her bike in his truck already, so she doesn’t feel obligated to talk to him. He pushes off of the side of the truck as soon as he catches sight of her walking down the wooden ramp. He frowns the closer she gets because he can now clearly see that she is touching her face to wipe away tears. Anger fills him at the thought of someone hurting his Petite Louve. He wants to harm whoever did this to her.

He rushes to the end of the ramp, “Petite Louve, who did this to you?” He restrains himself from pulling her into a hug; instead, he waits for her to blanket herself in his hold. She freezes at his voice, chuckling at his appearance. “Oh, I didn’t know you cared about me again. Thought you would be too busy basking in the glory of your Beautiful to care for someone who can be out fucked by potatoes,” she growls, furiously digging her palms into her eyes to get rid of her tears. She refuses to let him see her vulnerable again. His eyes widen as words he said so long ago are repeated back to him. His hand drags down his mouth, “Who told you that?” “Does it really matter when it’s your words that are causing me pain?” she counters. His hands ghost her shoulders with a shake. “You don’t know the full story,” he argues, running his hands through his hair. She chortles, “So the full story isn’t that you called me a dog and said that I wasn’t attractive before using me to win a bet that would hurt my best friends. And you LIED about it. You made me so much worse of a friend than I thought I was.” “What I said doesn’t mean anything. It was all a lie. It was before… before I knew who you truly were,” he croaks, knowing this isn’t going to end as he thought it would.

“It’s either a lie or said because you didn’t know me. Choose one because neither of those things is acceptable to me. And to think that I thought I was actually falling in love with you. You go ahead and prove that everything I thought about love is true.”

“You were falling for me?”

“No. I don’t believe in love, so I guess my brain was a little confused. How could it think that someone so selfish and self-centred could be the one for me?”

He knows that her words are true and are merely a fraction of her agony at the revelation. He is left gapping like a fish, searching for any word that would convey how sorry he is for everything. She isn’t satisfied by his wordless scramble, so she gets onto her bike. She doesn’t look back at him as she rides back home. “Fuck,” he yells once she is finally out of sight. He kicks the tire of his car. Topper and Kelce sheepishly come out, discussing how they are going to reveal this all to Rafe. For all they know, Rafe is in love with Amanda. They stop in their tracks. “Rafe…What are you doing here?” Topper frets, approaching the boy hesitantly. Rafe’s eyes burn into their souls, “WHO TOLD HER?” “It was an accident man. We’re sorry. Maybe she won’t tell Amanda,” Kelce hopes. Rafe’s hand tugs at the strands of his hair, “I don’t fucking care about Amanda. Y/N is torn up about what happened and she hates me even more than before. I was about to try to fix everything and now because of you two shitheads, I have no chance.” He slams the car door entering it, cursing why he had to screw this up in the first place.

———

Y/N had to tell Amanda the truth. She isn’t like Rafe; she can’t lie to the people she cares about. “I’m so sorry, Babe. I understand if you don’t want to be friends. I would hate myself too. I just hope you can forgive me for what I have done,” she begs with tears in her eyes. Amanda’s hand cups her friend’s, “I love you and it’s the past.” Y/N looks at Amanda with big eyes.

“You are too forgiving.”

“Or maybe you aren’t forgiving enough. Your mom forgave your dad a long time ago, so why shouldn’t I forgive you?”

“Are you back onto this again? You think I should forgive my dad.”

“He needs a chance, not forgiveness. From the moment you were old enough, you hated your dad. He has never gotten the chance to show you that he loves you. I mean, have you ever asked your mom how she feels now about everything?”

Y/N stiffens, taking in the suggestion her best friend gave. Amanda continues at Y/N’s silence, “Because I have, Y/N/N. She said that in the moment, it felt horrible. But… as she got older, she realized that it was the right choice. Their relationship was the product of an affair, so she would’ve never been able to trust him if they got married.” “I… uhh… I never knew she felt that way,” Y/N admits, bowing her head in shame. Amanda squeezes Y/N’s hand, “That’s okay. You do now, therefore it means you can change. Give your dad a chance. Now, tell me what is going on with you and Rafe?” “Nothing has been going on with him,” Y/N lies. Amanda giggles, “I’m your best friend. I know when you are lying.” “Fine, I thought that I was falling for him. It was a mistake. He was just using me to get to you. I let him convince me to hurt you and I was such a bad friend for that,” Y/N reasons. Amanda shakes her head, “Please stop beating yourself up over that. As for Rafe, I think it turned into something so much more than getting your help with me.” “Why would you say that?” Y/N inquiries with a tilt of her head. “He broke up with me earlier tonight and he seemed to be on a mission when he left. From what you told me, he was going to tell you something,” Amanda starts to illuminate. “Plus, I know people think that I’m clueless, but I could tell his mind was occupied by someone else during our relationship. He always wanted to watch The Good Place while eating powdered jelly doughnuts. In hindsight, that should’ve been my indicators as to who he was thinking about.”

Y/N looks at her best friend with glassy eyes, “Really?” “Yeah, I would go along with it because it made me feel like I was hanging out with you. And I like hanging out with you too,” Amanda confesses, looking down with a smile. Y/N is touched by her soul sister’s words and pulls Amanda into a hug, “That was so sweet. You know you are more intelligent than people give you credit for and I’m sorry I don’t realize that more often.” “It’s okay. And I know I’m smart. I also know that you need someone to take care of.” Amanda kisses her friend’s forehead and they remain in each other’s grasp for the rest of the night.

———

After seeing her for the first time in a month, Rafe didn’t know how he lived without her. What they had was so brief, yet it burned so brightly in his mind. He keeps reliving the memory of them in his mind and it makes his heartache that he doesn’t have more with her. He has to make this right with her for his sanity and his heart. He can’t relive the past; he has to find a way to make a future for them possible. This leads him to the one person in the world who will know how to fix everything. It kinda feels like an ironic full circle to him. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now after I broke your heart. But I really do need your help,” he pleads to Amanda, who is in her backyard tanning. Her eyes find him through her sunglasses, “I’m more pissed off that you hurt Y/N more than anything you did to me.” “Right, right. I can understand why you feel that way. What I did to both of you was shitty,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. She shrugs, “It was. I thought she was finally coming around to the idea of love and now, thanks to you, she feels like she has direct confirmation that it isn’t real.” “I’m sorry.” She scoffs, “Sorry isn’t exactly going to fix what you did.”

“I know. I’ll do anything to get your forgiveness. And I want to show Y/N that love is really because… Because I love her.”

Amanda sits up completely at the new revelation, “You love her?” “I do. I can’t get her out of my head. I wake up and I’m thinking about her. I go to sleep and I’m thinking about her. Every moment in between I spend beating myself up for letting her go,” he rants, tearing up at the thought of this not going where he wants to go. She crosses her arms, “Well, I want you to be beating yourself up forever.” “Don’t you also want to see Y/N happy?” he counters.

“I do. And that’s what do you want to do? Make her happy?”

“I want to make her the happiest fucking person in the world and I would give up anything in the world for that to happen.”

“Fine, I’ll help you. If you hurt her though, I will have my father pull out of the deal with yours and absolutely take down Cameron Development. It’s my turn to be protective of her.”

Rafe nods, “I would deserve so much more than that if I hurt Y/N. Now, how many rom-coms am I going to have to watch and do you have doughnuts for while we are watching them?”

———

Y/N couldn’t believe she was considering doing this right now. She’s walked up and down the driveway so many times that she seriously thinks she should get on her bike and leave. The door swinging open stops her from escaping the situation. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Willard steps outside and rushes to check on his daughter. She steps back to stay away from her father’s touch. “I’m fine, Dad. Can I ask you a question?” she cuts to the chase. Willard’s head moves up and down, “Of course. Anything, Kiddo.” “Did you really love Mom?” she spews, eyes glued to her hands playing with themselves. His eyes are slightly wide as he answers, “I did. I regret lying and causing her pain, especially since it meant losing the chance to be your father.” “Why did you do it then?” she pushes further, needing all the answers as to why her father broke their family apart before they could become one. He stares at her for a second, “Life is complicated. I had an affair with your mother when my marriage was showing signs of problems. I was young and thought that running from my problems was the solution. When I found out about you, I realized I had to grow up. So I went back home, worked on my marriage, and focused on earning money to help provide for you.”

“I was the reason why you broke Mom’s heart?” she whimpers, an awful feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of risking her mother’s love life. Willard shakes his head, “No, none of this is your fault, Kiddo. I was the idiot who broke your mother’s heart. It was never your fault, so don’t think that for even a second.” “Right. Well, thank you for answering my questions,” she states, backing away from her father with her head down low. He scrambles after his daughter, “Wait, is that all you wanted to talk about?” She falls in a standstill. “No… I was thinking that maybe we could go out together sometime. I think that I want to give our relationship a chance.” Willard grins, “Of course, I’m free right now if you want to go out for a late lunch.” “I can work with that,” she agrees.

———

Lunch with her father worked quite well and her mom was glad that it did. “I think it’s great that you are trying to have a relationship with your dad. The resentment you had for him wasn’t healthy,” Cordelia praises her daughter, bringing her into a hug. Y/N smiles at her mom, “Yeah, it was fun. Although, I still don’t think I want him paying for uni if he doesn’t have to. I want to try having a little bit of my own independence.” “I think that’s great, Baby. Remember that your father and I are always here to help you if you need it,” Cordelia assures. A knock at the door pulls them apart. “I’ll get it.” Her mother leaves her bedroom, so she flops back on her bed with a sigh. “Y/N, you have a guest,” the mother announces from downstairs. Y/N groans because she is just getting comfortable. She rolls out of bed and falls on the floor with a grunt. Her hair is a little chaotic, yet doesn’t bother to fix it. The echo of her weight jumping from stair to stair is the only one that can be heard throughout the house. “Babe, I didn’t know you were coming ov-” Y/N starts, thinking Amanda is at the door because it is the only plausible answer. She ceases once she lays a sight on who it is. “You have a lot of balls coming here,” she says with her hand coming down on her jutted-out hip.

Rafe gives her a sheepish smile, “I know. Could we talk?” Y/N huffs, thinking about her new streak of giving people chances. She turns to her mother, who is standing near the door. “You guys probably want privacy. I really don’t want to; however, I will be going to the store to get more… eggs?” Cordelia excuses herself, taking her purse and keys to head to the store. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out now that they are alone. Her eyebrows raise, “Is that all you wanted to say?” “No, it’s just the beginning of everything I have to say. I wanted to give you a chance to back out,” he acknowledges.

She motions with her hands for him to continue. “Lying to you so it risked your relationship with Amanda was horrible. I’m glad that you guys are still friends. It was also terrible that thing that I said about sex and potatoes. It was out of line. I’m sorry and don’t believe that it is true. Those weren’t my biggest mistakes though. My biggest mistake was telling you that we didn’t have any chemistry. Because we fucking do. We have a whole chemistry lab. Test tubs and drugs and all,” he raves. She doesn’t want to giggle, except that the comparison he made was too good not to laugh at. “You know people normally equate chemistry with sparks or fireworks,” she faults, turning her head to the side so he can’t see her amusement. He chuckles with her, “I don’t think we can be considered as normal. I’m an idiot who messes everything up half of the time and you are a stubborn girl who doesn’t believe in love.” “So you’re saying that all girls have to believe in love,” she chides. Rafe panics, “No, I didn’t mean it like that I… uh.”

“It’s fine, stopping blubbering like a fish out of water,” she commands. His mouth closes and he scratches the back of his neck. “I see you haven’t lost your bark,” he comments.

“If I lose my bark, then I wouldn’t be me.”

“Right, petite louves always have a bark.”

“Wolves don’t bark. They howl.”

“Okay, I think we are a little off track.”

She shuts up at his words, waiting for him to continue. Silence fills the room as Rafe gets everything off of his chest. “That’s all you want to say?” she confirms. His mouth ups and closes before he nods. “It’s my turn to talk. One. I don’t really care about the potato thing. I’m a virgin so I don’t expect to have any sort of skill in that department. Two. You are lucky Amanda forgave me or else your dick would be hammered to my bike. Three. I tried to open up to you and you lied to me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?” she tirades. Rafe hmms, “Those are all valid points. And I hope maybe you can trust me by letting me show you that I truly love you.” “You don’t love me. You just think you do. Love doesn’t exist,” she reveals. Rafe objects, “I think that you changed your mind on it and are too scared to admit that you did.” “Yeah because look where believing in love landed me. Almost losing my best friend and my heart felt like it just got crushed by an anvil,” she fires back with venom laced in her words. A crooked smile forms on his lips, “So you admit that you do love me.” “I-I… umm. That’s not wh-... um,” she babbles, trying to untie herself from the net he caught her in.

He takes this as a chance to step closer to her, “Now, look who is the fish, Petite Louve.” He perceives the way her breath stops falling on his skin and a sense of victory finds its way through him. She stares up at him with a dumbfounded look, trying to think of a comeback. Rather than doing so, she falls victim to her own desires and pulls him down so her lips can meet his. His arms grip her waist, just above her bum to pull her closer to him. Their kiss deepens and suddenly, air isn’t something they need. A cough from the front door ends the motion of their lips. Their heads press together as they see who is there. Cordelia gives the pair a bashful smile, “Sorry, I forgot my phone.”

They wait for her to get her phone from the kitchen. “Rafe, you are staying for dinner when I get back. I also look forward to hearing your apology to me for hurting my baby girl,” Cordelia proclaims, closing the door at the last word. Y/N steps away from him, examining the hardwood floor to gather her thoughts. “This doesn’t mean that everything is completely fine between us. You don’t get to earn my trust back with the snap of your fingers,” she discloses, toeing at the floor with the point of her foot. Rafe’s head bobs, “Definitely, I understand. It will take at least a thousand strawberry jelly doughnuts for that.” She gives him a shove, laughing through her nose. “It’s going to take a lot more than doughnuts for what you have to do,” she adds. “I know. I am prepared to give you all the jelly doughnuts in the world and so much more to help you truly believe in love.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

660 notes · View notes

cometkenji · 20 days

Text

the warm spot at the bottom of the stairs

Pairing: Ghost!Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!Reader CW: Fluff, Mild Angst, Soulmate AU, reader has dreams, mentions of sex/masturbation, mentions of death, cursing, reader feels like she knows him but they've never met, let me know if I missed anything please! Summary: After inheriting your grandfather's estate, you fall in love with the man from your dreams. He just so happens to be in your house, too. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but in this she's literally not described aside from the fact that she has hips, a stomach, and legs on her body. WC: 9k (this is what happens when you let a man cook) This fic is genuinely my baby. I love soulmate aus with all my heart and soul and also love the dynamic of falling in love with a ghost. Enjoy this please, I tried <3

You swore the heat radiating off the sidewalk was enough to melt the soles of your shoes down to liquid. The sun was unforgivably angry today, glaring down at the world like it had a score to settle. You were less than thankful, as the death of your grandfather had stolen any desire you once held for warmth. The brutal dichotomy of the cold pit sitting in your stomach and the burning heat of the day only added to the sour taste in your mouth.

This house was fucking huge.

You had no idea how your grandfather managed to hide such an enormous investment from everyone in his life but he’d managed the task seamlessly. Nobody even knew what he was giving you at first. The reading of the will and testimony left nothing but confused relatives until they had found the address that marked the estate. Some were jealous of you, some were confused, some even asked if they could come live with you once you got settled in. You had been absolutely floored when you learned he’d given you a house. Being fresh out of university, you were moving on to grad school while simultaneously preparing yourself to live with your mother until you could afford anything besides student debt payments.

Now though, you had a castle, with no clue why a house this big was given to you of all people. You were your grandpa’s only grandchild and were by far one of the least deserving of such a generosity. Sure, you were close, but never abnormally close. You talked once a week on the phone and were glued to his side at family gatherings - but he saw your aunt everyday, and spoke with your mother much more than he ever did you. Was it pity? Maybe he saw this as the only plausible way of you escaping the fate of leeching off your mother. Hopefully he didn’t think of you so lowly.

You mentally cursed at the dull ache in your legs that persisted even after stretching. You had been driving all day with a car packed full of stuff that needed to be hauled into the house, and only yourself to move said stuff. You said a short plea in your head to not let the pain hinder your speed and began walking into the house to view the inside. The estate was isolated, huge fences of greenery surrounded the place, adding to the pleasant sight of budding flowers throughout the front yard. Even without the towering hedges, though, the nearest neighbor was miles away. Great, you thought. Any concerns of your car being robbed while you were gone were extinguished as quick as they came, but you locked the car regardless. Force of habit.

The heat was only lessened slightly when you reached the interior. You made a mental note to get the A.C. turned on, no way a temperature like this was a liveable one. You’re sure the numerous floor-to-ceiling windows were the culprit. They were excessive. Beautiful - of course - and you were thrilled at the amount of light they let in, but you could basically see the heatwaves permeating through the stained glass. Your eyes caught on the odd choice. The slightly colored glass making the mansion feel mildly like a church, the thought coming to you quickly and stripping any of the minimal comfort you held moments prior. That’s weird, you thought. Your grandpa had never been particularly religious. He was a man of faith - said grace before dinner and thanked Jesus for every day he lived, but never to this extent. He was rather progressive for a man his age.

The kitchen could have easily fit a team of 12 and you wondered if there had been staff at one point. There was no sign of any employees, and you prayed there weren’t any left working. The last thing you wanted was more responsibility in your life. You took your time walking the house, marveling at every painting and polished chandelier that was now an asset of yours. The house was gorgeous, you’d give at least that much to the old man. The centerpiece, of course, was the large spiral staircase leading to the second floor. As large as the house was, it held only two stories. Getting it’s square footage from length, rather than width. It was equally as glamorous as the house it resided in, however it filled you with a certain devastation you couldn’t place. As though your most primal self rejected the idea of it. That’s silly, you thought. You wanted to go upstairs, you were definitely not avoiding half of your house because a couple of your neck hairs stood at attention. The only real peculiarity was the heat pooling at the very bottom of the staircase. The kind of heat that seemed to thread itself into you, intertwine itself with your very being. The rest of the house was cold and accusatory, if your grandfather ever did live here, any of his warmth was flushed out by his death. This was the only spot in the whole house you felt calm, cared for. You could bask in it, weirdly fascinated with the little pocket of humanity that sat there.

It was more difficult than you’d expected to pull yourself out of it, and you could have sworn you felt arms trying to pull you back in. Ten minutes into your new life and you were already on edge. Negative feelings didn’t seem to penetrate the spot at the bottom of the stairs, so you physically felt the wave of unease when it struck you upon exiting. The upstairs was creepy. The abundance of windows was apparently only a trend on the first floor, as the second floor held dark, dim hallways. The whole thing, it seemed, was lit up by ancient lamps that lined the walls. It reminded you of the Shining, and you wondered briefly if maybe your mother would let you move back in. There was a bedroom right near the staircase, and you decided it would be yours. It could have been the smallest one for all you knew, the only thing you cared about was a quick escape if such a thing was needed. Something about the house put thoughts like that at the front of your mind.

You don’t recall ever being a paranoid person, nor a believer in the supernatural, but this house was watching you. The feeling of eyes on you was simply too strong to write off. What a warm welcome.

—

It had been a week, but the nights so far had been sleepless ones. The people you called on day one were just now getting around to starting the A.C. so you were hoping for a decent rest tonight. The fridge was stocked, your things mainly unpacked, and the house started feeling a little more like you with each day. Although, your friends were more or less convinced there was a ghost living with you. You spoke of the feelings you had, plus the fact it was an old and mildly creepy house, and they were off and running with theories. One of the tamer ones consisted of the house being an old church - given the windows - and that the eyes you were feeling were perhaps an old priest who died here. You were less than fond of that idea, but you would take it any day to the other propositions of old mental hospitals and certain death. You made a mental note to never again let your friends speculate on situations you couldn’t get out of.

You argued that a malevolent spirit wouldn’t invoke such a comforting sense within you. You felt watched - yes - but it wasn’t as though you felt stalked. It was much worse, actually, you felt lonely. Loneliness was never a battle you fought very hard in. You had hobbies, and you had friends. The desire for a romantic companion usually took the back burner if it was even a thought at all. People questioned the topic - you were pretty, smart, capable - what more could somebody want? They asked if you were insecure, if you liked girls, told you that you were wasting your “prime years” and needed to find someone - but it was never that simple. You just didn’t get it. The feelings others spoke of were unfamiliar ones to you. You held your breath for a long time before realizing that it probably just wasn’t for you, that you were built a little differently.

Needless to say, you were uncomfortable with the sudden sensation. It felt like seeing the moon in a glass jar - something unfathomably beautiful but something you were unable to hold. Lord knows it wasn’t from a lack of desire, though. You’re sure you reeked of longing, able to suppress the lot of it but unable to stop some from slipping through the cracks of your fingers. And with no obvious direction to cast it, it just clung to you and seeped back into your skin.

–

“No, dude, I’m telling you shit’s fucking weird.” You shoveled popcorn into your mouth as you spoke with your friend. This was the third call since you moved in. “Every night I wake up at like two in the morning and just for a split second I feel it. It’s like I'm lying on someone’s shoulder or something. And - oh my god - the amount of times I get stuck in that fucking warm spot on the stairs is gonna drive me crazy.”

You could hear her laughing at your frustration on the other end. “What do you mean you get stuck? Y/n I'm getting worried about your mental state.”

“No I’m telling you, I walk in this one - like - warm spot and I enter some kind of trance. Like I want to leave but I can’t - Jesus!”

“Are you alright?” Your friend was quick to ask, hearing you cut yourself off mid sentence.

“No! This shit is haunted I swear. My kitchen lights just turned off for no reason. If I die here I’m blaming you and Kelly for not getting me out.” You were being dramatic, you knew that, but it was starting to feel justified. You don’t remember a time in the last week you felt truly by yourself.

“Hey don’t blame us for your own choi-” She started speaking, but you lost her.

“Hello? You there?” You tried calling her again but the usual buzz of the dial tone was dead silent, the lamps that were illuminating the house followed soon after. Phone lines were the first to go in a power outing. No fucking way the power just went out. You felt around in the dark for the drawer of the end table. There had been a flashlight on the counter when you’d first arrived. You threw it in the end table because you had no clue why it was there - you were thanking God you’d done so while also praying the thing had batteries in it. You wrapped your hand around the object and said one more plea to the stars you wouldn’t have to be without light until tomorrow. Somebody must have been listening, as the room lit up when you hit the ‘on’ switch of the flashlight.

You’d seen the fuse box towards the south end of the upstairs hallway, sitting between a Da Vinci replica and a mirror taken straight from a movie star's wet dream. I’m gonna die was the only thing you could think at a moment like this. You were for sure going to see glowing red eyes at the end of the hall and die a horrific and bloody death. Thanks grandpa. The warm spot was a welcome refuge from your journey to certain death, and you embraced the sense of peace it brought you at a time when your heart was surely beating too fast. You held the light in front of you as you ventured up the stairs. The top of them seemed cartoonishly haunting, you thought momentarily that you would fit perfectly into a Scooby Doo episode. It was vast and dark, having multiple pathways you could walk down, but you set your sights on the south hall and did your best to disable your peripheral vision. It was right there. You just had to reset the power and you’d have your precious light back. Who puts a fucking mirror above a fuse box?

You held the flashlight between your teeth as you focused on your task. Open and reset. Open and reset. It was truly as simple as that and then you could be done. Go watch a midnight rerun on TV and pray that the spirits would leave you alone. Open and reset. The switches were flipped off - you didn’t think that was normal but what did you know - so you flipped them back on and heard the hum of life returning to the house. Thank God. Your nerves dissipated almost immediately. You were alright, no ghost had it out for you. It’s an old house, and would probably experience things like this a lot. You could do that again if you had to. You looked up, though, and ate your words. There was definitely a man behind you. If you had been trying to look at him, you would have seen he was young, tall. You probably would have thought he was attractive, but you had no time for that. You whirled around, yelping at the sight of him and mentally preparing to defend your life. It proved futile though, he was gone as quickly as he came. There was nowhere he could have gone that fast, so as much as you were certain he was there, you settled for him being imaginary. It was dark upstairs, and you were scared out of your mind. Surely your eyes were overcompensating for the paranoia that was racing through you. You walked back to the couch on guard and decided to call your friend back tomorrow. It was nearly twelve, and you knew she had work tomorrow. You could cope using TV and proper lighting to comfort you until sunrise. What’s one more sleepless night?

“You boys let me know if you need anything.” You heard the words in your own voice as if listening to a stranger.

“Sure thing, doll.” All the men were in uniform. Gray fabric covered their bodies, adorned with hats of the same color. Soldiers.

You walked back behind the front counter as the bell above the door continuously chimed at the arrival of new guests. Orders were being shouted to the cooks. You stared at the bold letters painted on the large graffiti piece decorating the wall, “Cathy’s Cooking.” A greasy apron covered the light blue dress beneath it - waitress attire. The smell of fried eggs clashed hard with the scent of sanitizer you were using to wipe down the counter. Bells rang to signal orders were ready to be taken out to guests, and you discarded the rag you used to mop up spilled coffee.

“Thanks, Benny.” You nodded to the chef as you took the food plates to table two. He nodded back at you before returning to flipping bacon.

“L/N!” Your manager barked at you. “Take your break. Be back in thirty.” He was a friendly man, though he got a bit hostile under pressure.

You couldn’t be more thankful for the break. It was hour 6 of your shift and you were beginning to think he might never let you off. You removed the apron as quick as possible and excused yourself out the back entrance to cool off in the alley way. It got hot as hell during rush hour, so the way the slight breeze nipped your cheeks felt like heaven.

“Tough shift?”

“Jesus!”

He started laughing as you startled, turning to face him. “‘Fraid it’s just me, honey.” He walked towards you as you grinned at him.

“You scared me, Spence.”

He shook his head, mocking you. “I’m so sorry.” Drama queen. “How ever will I make it up to you?”

You giggled at that, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he got closer. He put his hands on your hips, leaning you against the brick wall of the alley. You could feel your lungs open up when he kissed you, always feeling like you could breathe better when his lips were on yours. He was your God given destresser. He still donned his uniform but had opted for taking the hat off, he knew you hated when his hair was hidden.

“That’s not very nice, Reid. I thought you were a gentleman. What would your boys think of you being so mean to a lady?”

He smiled a bit at that. “You like when I’m a little mean, Y/N.”

Fuck. He had you there.

You looked to the side for a second to snuff out some of the tension. “How long are you here for?”

“We’re in town for two weeks. Gotta catch a boat up to base 14 on the 20th. Supposedly they’re preparing for a big fight.”

You frowned as you made eye contact with him.“I get so worried about you. About all of you. I don’t know what I’d do if - you know if something happened.” He’d been a soldier for a little while now, joining when he turned 18. He’d kept his hands on your hips, and you started to run your hands through his hair, a nervous habit you picked up when the two of you first got together.

“I know, honey. But by the time it’s done I’ll be off my leash. I do this and we can run away together.”

You looked at him the way you always did - with such admiration and love that he often had to look away before it went to his head. He swore he looked at you the same, but you knew deep down nobody could love anyone as much as you loved him. You laughed a bit at the elation you got from just his presence.

“I got lucky with you, Reid.”

He just shook his head. “Give yourself more credit, L/n.”

Your consciousness hit you like a truck and you realized before long that sun was shining through the windows. You’d fallen asleep sometime between ultimate terror and fleeting hope of your survival. And that dream - dear lord what the fuck was that dream. It was more vivid than you thought possible. You always forget most of your dreams when you wake up, but this time it felt like forgetting would be a betrayal. You could recall word for word every single thing about that dream. It was as though you saw a movie of your own life. A feeling so familiar you could taste it but just far enough to escape your grasp - and boy were you reaching. Not to mention the man. You didn’t know if this was some sort of coping mechanism you were inventing in your head but that was definitely the same man from the mirror last night. An imaginary friend. You had an imaginary friend as a grown woman. Terrific.

–

“You’re never going to attract a suiter with such a tragic expression, my dear.” This had to be the third time your mother had roused this point in the past hour.

“These dances are dreadful, idiotic nights of captivity that do nothing but mock the existence of genuine companionship.” The irony of you saying this while patting your cheeks with rose pigment was not lost on you. “Let me scrub myself raw and willingly restrain myself in hopes a man will see me and fall in love.” You spat out the last word with enough vitriol to hopefully drown yourself in. “Maybe he’ll like me so much he’ll lay claim and I can live on to be his housewife and half a person. How I've always dreamed of letting a man decide how much value I have.” You were flustered by the end of your spiel, looking at your mother through the large vanity with the tentative hope of a child asking for sweets.

“You read too much, darling. Those little romance books of yours are nothing but nonsense.” She was a professional at writing you off by now. “You know plenty of women who are perfectly satisfied with their lives. This is how we do things, Y/n. I don’t understand why you insist on fighting it so intently.”

She was never truly angry at your defiance, only tired. You could never tell if she was tired of you complaining or if she, like you, was tired of living this way. Your mother had married young - even for the times - and you knew your father left much to be desired in her life. They were basically repulsed by each other, only joining in union to produce a child. Your mother had been thrilled to have a daughter. Your father would trade you if he could, but he made do. The ultimate lack of affection between the two of them made you ill. You weren’t much older than your mother had been, you could very well end up trapped and child-bound in a loveless marriage.

“I would rather die alone than end up with my father.” You spoke, she sighed.

“I know.”

You stared at her through the mirror for a moment longer, then you rose from your chair. Your makeup was done, your look now complete. You noticed your mother’s eyes start to well up at the sight of you and she started to walk closer.

“My beautiful girl.” She smiled, forbidding the tears to venture down her cheeks, and held your shoulders. “You deserve a man who will worship you. Your future husband will be the luckiest man on planet Earth.” A gentle prompt, but a prompt nonetheless. You knew she loved you, but she carried more shame as you got older. Having only a daughter was something frowned upon, but having only a daughter hellbent on avoiding marriage was something that weighed on her.

“I’ll see you in the carriage.” Then she was gone, kissing your cheek and taking her exit to go talk with the director of the communal ride. Carriage was being generous, it was more like a one-way wagon to the local suiter’s ball. You watched her leave with a sense of grief so intense it nearly toppled you. She deserved a man like that too.

This was your third ball of the month. The pool of potential partners diminished with each one. People would often take whatever they could get, meaning less and less people even needed these nights anymore. You walked in with your mother, hand resting gently in the crook of her extended elbow. Your father stopped attending with the two of you a while ago. You believed he’d given up hope of a man ever choosing you - Lord knows he wouldn’t. Scanning the crowd, you saw little to look forward to. The music was pleasant, you would dance with a couple men who seemed bearable at best and criminal at worst, indulge in some of the enticing pastries and teas, and then you would leave. Back home until your mother dragged you out the following week for another one. With your current rate, you assumed you would end up marrying the vagabond that perused your neighboring streets. Taking another look around, you thought you might prefer that.

You made your temporary home in a corner chair, letting your mother excitedly drag prospects up to you and watch dejectedly as they ruled you out as an option. You felt bad for her, considered caving in and finding a man to give you a child, but you remember swiftly how long the years take to pass when you’re miserable. The chair gave you a good view of the room, you could see the entrance and the dancefloor filled with enticing women waiting for men to notice them. You could feel the sweat start slicking your skin beneath the corset you wore. It was too hot in here.

If you hadn’t been so determined to ignore the occasional advances of bored men, you would have missed the small group entering the area. Two women and two men, you wondered briefly if it was two couples, but discarded that thought. This wasn’t a place for couples. You felt your heart physically lurch at the sight of the last man in the row of four, as though your heart was running to greet an old friend. Had you seen him before? Surely you would have remembered such a visceral reaction. You averted your eyes before he could notice you. You don’t remember ever wanting to be noticed by a man - especially not this badly. You allowed yourself the escape of your own thoughts, getting lost in your head to pass the time and focus on anything other than what was probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

You looked up, he was standing above you. The chair next to you had been taken all night, the same woman had been sulking in her seat, and you found comfort in the fact someone else was unhappy to be here. She was gone now. Someone was definitely messing with you.

“Not at all.”

Your mouth was drier than it had ever been. You wondered if your lips remained stained from the color you applied earlier. You’d done nothing but sit all night and yet you were praying nothing had happened to your makeup.

“Why are you alone in a corner?”

“Men tend to be repulsed by my pessimism. I also happen to hate it here. Serves for a less than desirable combination.” You refused to let your sudden attraction diminish your stubbornness. You hated the self-consciousness racing through you, no man had the right to take your assurance in yourself.

“Why do you hate it here?” He wasn’t being mocking. He seemed - genuinely - a little sad at the thought of you being unhappy.

“Well, sir, I am of the belief that these dances are nothing but congregations of people settling for lives that won’t make them happy. They trade excitement for safety as though the presence of security has to mean the presence of misery. I don’t think anyone can know the true meaning of love in our current state as a society.” You didn’t look at him as you spoke, instead staring out at the people dancing. “I hold no desire to settle. I am capable of making happiness on my own. Most men don’t like the thought of me not needing them.”

You were almost positive you lost him. You were betting on him not being there when you looked, preparing yourself to bite the bullet and cope with tonight’s losses. Maybe your mother would agree to leave early.

You heard him chuckle softly. “Sir.” He repeated your words, finding humor in the formality. “My name’s Spencer.” He added. “And I also happen to hate the purpose of these events. I’ve never actually been to one before, but I’m new to the city, and something about tonight was begging me to come out.”

You were absolutely bewitched by him. “I’m Y/n.”

“Fitting.” He smiled, a smile directed at his own thoughts, as though something in his mind had clicked. “Will you dance with me?”

The music had slowed severely. You scoffed at his proposal, but you were taking his hand as if you’d been waiting on this. Maybe you had been. You were grateful for the ballad that was playing, never having been one for upbeat dancing. He led you gracefully, and for once you felt yourself relinquish power. With a mind like yours, a man’s company was almost never wanted. With this one, though, you laid your heart at his feet as if you’d done so a dozen times before. The heat of his hands was seeping through your dress, and his eyes were locked with yours.

“I feel like I know you.” A confession. He had an effect like that.

“Maybe you do.”

–

Two in the morning. Everyday you’d woken up at two in the morning from a different dream involving the mysterious ‘Spencer Reid’. You friends had kindly dubbed him the “Man of your dreams” following the stories you told them. You’d been a housewife, trying to welcome him home from work before he laid you down and made an altar of your dining table.You’d been the daughter of a king, at one point, falling in love with his favored knight. Shamefully, that one haunted you. Reappearing in your mind during intimate times when you needed a spark. You’d never been one for desire either. When your friends started preaching the wonders of sex to you during your highschool days, you felt no pull towards the act. Just another it you didn’t understand. Now, though, this house served as an aphrodisiac. You lost count of your streak by day 13, and were now just begging whoever put this apparition in your home for the strength to keep your hand out of your pants.

Spencer had become more like a roommate rather than an unwanted guest. You saw him in most reflective surfaces around the house. You felt him everywhere. He sat at the table with you, watched TV with you, he would wait by the door when you got home from work. Sometimes, your hand or your shoulder would run hot. Physically hot, like he was putting his hands on you. You wondered if he was around during those times, but if he was there he made sure you didn’t know it. You were gaining a sort of intuition for him. The thought Spencer would like that struck you numerous times when you were window shopping or when you tried on an outfit. You were starting to think maybe you were just crazy. Perhaps a ghost who seemed to be your soulmate and made you incredibly horny was how all psychotic breaks started.

Weirdly, through your bizarre dreams and inconsistent sleeping patterns, this was the most well rested you’d felt in a while. Waking up at two am was routine now, sometimes you managed to fall back asleep afterwards but most times you were up dwelling on the images your mind had shown you that night. You thought maybe your body was just adjusting - surely it was nothing supernatural giving you energy - just the adaptivity of the human brain. One persistent thing you couldn’t adapt to, though, was how much you missed him. The increasing number of times you woke up to being the only occupant of your bed was starting to wear you down. You feel like you’d spent lifetimes with this man and yet he was someone you never knew. You'd seen the two of you fall in love countless different ways except the one that actually counted - the present.

“I genuinely don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Another phone call, another conversation about your rapidly declining mental state. “I have fallen in love with a figment of my own imagination. Surely this is some demented form of narcissism.”

“I don’t think it works like that, Y/n.” Your friend was terrible at comforting people. It probably didn’t help that you hadn’t been fully honest with her about the severity of your situation. From where she was standing, you had learned to lucid dream and now that was bleeding mildly into your real life. Not the biggest deal, maybe you were just lonely.

“It’s a ghost, dude, I’m fucking telling you. There’s no way I’m imaginative enough to conjure all this shit up.”

“You know his name right? Go down to the library and look him up. If he’s a ghost then surely there’ll be something to find.”

Holy shit. She was a genius. “Oh my God you’re so smart. I love you. You just saved my life. You’re God’s gift to the planet. Who would I be witho-”

“Jesus Christ will you just go? Stop kissing my ass and start driving. I want details when you get back.”

You don’t know if you’ve ever been so eager to get to the library of all places. If you could snag a computer spot then you could put an end to all of this. He wasn’t real, realistically you knew that, but you had a fool-proof way to check. If he was real you were going to have to come to terms with the fact you could see dead people. Well, a dead person. You had never seen any before Spencer. You’d never seen Spencer either, not before the house at least. They say you can’t make up faces, that if you see someone in a dream then you’ve seen them in real life but you were incredibly doubtful of that by now.

Spencer Reid. Thankfully the man didn’t have a particularly common name. You hoped there would be limited matches, less to look through. Pretty soon you could accept your own mental insanity and maybe ask your mother to spot you for some therapy. Well, moment of truth. You watched each letter be typed in with baited breath until his full name was in the search bar. Even just looking at his name brought that sense of calm. You were hopeless. Until, apparently, you weren’t.

Brilliant Dr. Reid dead at 26

Former FBI agent Spencer Reid found dead in his home

Spencer Reid co-workers speak out on his legacy. Where to go from here?

You scoured every article you could find, analyzing every pixel of every image available. This was your guy. Same Spencer Reid from your dreams. Same Spencer Reid that stands behind you in every mirror of the house. Holy shit who was this guy? He was a little older than you, died last year in the summertime. Each article painted a brutal picture of his death, speculating on how the doctor died but never comfirming anything. Only that he was dead when paramedics got there, the sight of his covered body being extracted from his home was one that would stick with you. His home. It was the same house you were living in. It’s possible your grandfather was renting it out. That’s probably why nobody ever knew about it - he wasn’t living there. You didn’t know when water started pooling in your eyes, you only realized them as they started falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know him. You didn’t even know him but you felt like someone just sucker punched you and were about 60% sure your lunch was coming back up. Jesus.

There was no way you could tell your friends about this. The majority of your brain was pleading with you to rationalize this. Maybe you’d seen one of the articles before. Maybe your grandpa talked about him. Holy shit he had known your grandpa. Every individual thought you had was identifiable and that was far too overwhelming for your brain to handle. You signed out of the computer and went to go sit in your car. Could you even drive like this? Your hands were shaking so bad there was a good chance you’d crash the car before you got home. It’s twenty minutes, you thought. You had to go back. Staying away from the house any longer felt like a punishment. You can make it twenty minutes.

–

“No, no. Like I said it was just some old guy who wrote a book. No sign of my Spencer.” You were lying straight through your teeth. You figured it didn’t truly matter. If you sat here and told the entire story of finding exactly who you were looking for online, you think she’d have checked you into a facility.

“Maybe if you believe hard enough you can manifest him.”

“Wow you’re hilarious. Remind me again how I ever lived my life without such a humorous presence.”

“I question that same thing everyday, Y/n.” You could hear the smile embedded in her words.

“I’ll let you go. I know Dylan is probably waiting on you. Thanks for checking up on the Spencer chronicles.” You felt slightly bad. She was on her honeymoon currently, and instead of spending time with her new husband, she was listening to your stories of fraternizing with a ghost.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sure it’s weird as hell. Call me up if you need to, yeah? Hotel has unlimited calls so I can talk all night if you need to.” She was an angel in this world.

“Thanks, same goes here. If you get sick of your husband you know where to find me. Remember to use protection.”

“Alright, nevermind. You may suffer by yourself for all I care.” She laughed while she threatened you.

“Bye, honey. Love you.” You should have felt alone, but you never did. He was most likely here with you.

The exhaustion had well and truly crept up on you. You planned on getting home and calling your friend immediately, but you ended up needing a good few hours to cry and pace around the house. You weren’t scared - it was essentially the opposite. The complete lack of fear bred so much confusion that you didn’t know how to cope with the amount of frustration on your shoulders. You paced the house hoping to find him. You wanted to be near him. You harbored the immature hope that knowing who he was would grant you the ability to see him. Did you even know who he was? He was a doctor, an agent, but who was he to you? Is that what you needed to know in order to see him?

Now, sitting on your bed, you felt like you’d been through the ringer. The mental gymnastics of the day weighing heavily on your body. You needed to go to sleep. You wanted to go to sleep. In the last week or so you’d noticed a certain excitement regarding the promise of another tale, another dream. They were so extravagant, not even in the details of them, just in the consistency of pure emotion. You could have been fighting dragons or sitting on the porch in rocking chairs. If he was by your side, there was always this certain euphoria surrounding the two of you. A feeling reserved just for you and him. God you missed him.

–

You woke up slowly to a familiar bed beneath you, this was your house. The window was open, curtains blowing cautiously as the mild chill of the Fall breeze wafted in and dusted over your collarbones. It wasn’t this cold last night. You felt the breeze again on your whole body, and realized you were lying naked on top of the ruffled comforter. Had he pulled the blanket off you?

“Are you cold? I didn’t think to shut the window when I got up. I was kind of rushing to get my stuff.” You noticed then that he was sat behind a canvas, angled so he could glance between you and the task at hand with ease. He noticed you furrow your eyebrows, and even managed to catch the minuscule tense of your muscles as you prepared to sit up.

“Stay still for me, honey. I’m almost done.” He was adding feather-light brushstrokes to the piece, a finishing touch of his you now recognized from watching him paint so much.

“This isn’t a very good pose, Spence. You know I’m not the most photogenic.” You referred to the fact you had been sleeping as he painted, limbs not organized and environment chaotic. Notoriously unfavored things by the man. Maybe he was hoping to capture a candid version of you.

He exhaled a laugh. “How rich coming from you.” His lips quirked upward as he continued adding touch-ups to his art. “Something about you this morning…I don’t know.” He shook his head like he was talking to himself rather than you. “You just looked…mesmerizing.” He shrugged, brushing off the sentiment. “Felt wrong to just look at you.”

Dumbfounded was the only word you could think to describe yourself. He’d painted you before, mainly from the neck up for practice with faces, but this was different terrain. You were nervous to see the piece. You thought of your hips, your stomach, your legs. A silhouette he’d sworn time and time again was worthy of worship. One he wanted to treasure. You hoped you’d see a glimpse of yourself through his lens, hoped all that adoration would show on the canvas. Once he was finished with it, he turned it so you could see. It was breathtaking. His talent never failed to leave you speechless.

“I feel like I should be paying for this.” You joked, but still felt as though something should be given in return. He stood from his stool and joined you on the bed.

“I assure you, I’m well compensated.” Your face ran hot. “Can I hang it?”

“Spence, I’m naked-”

“Not downstairs, Y/n.” He chuckled. “I’d put it there.” He nodded to a vacant wall space on the right side of the room, entirely visible from his side of the bed.

“You want me watching you sleep, Reid?”

He grinned at you, shaking his head slightly at your remark. “Just wanna be able to see you.” He held your eyes. “I’m hoping looking at you before I go to sleep will give me good dreams.” You hummed in sarcastic agreement, your gaze falling soft a moment later.

“You can if you want to.” He looked relieved.

“Thanks, honey.” He looked stunning in the morning light. The sun hadn’t risen too long ago, and he was only covered partially by a pair of joggers. He was practically luminous, the bare skin of his chest looking golden in the sunlight. You stuck your hands out to feel him, and you felt as though you were trying to touch heaven itself. He leaned down to be closer to you, he always said you felt magnetic.

“You should let me paint you like this more often.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm”

And, just like before, you could breathe again when he kissed you. Truly breathe. It was times like these when he felt like your oxygen, like pulling away should be sin. Lord knows you would suffer any version of Hell for him.

–

Your frustration seemed to have doubled in your sleep. Two am. You were gonna find that fucking painting. It wasn’t in the spot he left it - you would have noticed a giant painting of yourself naked on the walls, but you double checked to be sure. You threw up every light switch you came across and started scavenging through the upstairs. There was a certain tug in your body - when you didn’t find it in a room, you knew it wasn’t there, something internal telling you to look elsewhere. It was only when you were halfway done with the downstairs raid that you remembered the storage room. You’d found it when you first moved in, a room full of dust and white tarps covering furniture and other indecipherable shapes. It had to be in there.

You wrecked havoc on the tiny room. Tearing off layers of fabric quickly, leaving little thought to where you were throwing them, completely tunnel visioned on finding the painting. You came across a covered square the same size as the canvas had been. It was coated in so much dust that the covering looked ancient, and you were begging any conceivable being to be merciful, to let you have at least this if you couldn’t have him. You unveiled the shape to find the same vibrant pigments you’d seen just hours before. It was you, draped over the comforter and basking in the hue of the morning. This was it, you thought. Holy shit this is real. You had no grounds to deny this anymore. Spencer was a real guy, clearly he’d died in this house and clearly the two of you had lived enough lives together to fill months of sleepless nights with.

What did this mean for you? Were you a clone? Were you and Spencer both clones? Were you living in a simulated reality and all of this was actually a ruse calculated to induce reactions in the brain that could then be studied? Oh my god - were you a ghost too? Had you died and were now stuck in some form of purgatory?

You felt sick with it. You didn’t know you were capable of bearing such intense metaphorical weight. You needed to see him. Maybe if you went to sleep, you would realize you were having a dream and could figure some things out. That’s so stupid. You mentally scolded yourself for even thinking of such a dumb idea. You needed to speak with him. You needed him to tell you what was going on. Of course him and everyone in your life who could have known him were six feet deep. A seance, maybe? Perhaps just buy a ouija board and wing it. You’d seen the most of him when you were asleep, that had to be the key to figuring this out. Please dear god let it be the key to figuring this out. You took the painting and headed back upstairs. Maybe it could serve as a medium, you thought. That’s a thing, right?

You don’t think your bed had ever seemed so uninviting. You remember how grateful you’d been to finally sleep on your first day here. It was a pain in the ass hauling a mattress up a spiral staircase and the moment you realized you were done was a relief to say the least. Now you stared at it and your mouth ran dry. What if this didn’t work? What did you even want to happen? Were you going to rummage through your dreams and play detective to piece together what might have happened in your past? No degree of mental antagonizing could push you off course by now. He was real. You know he’d been a real man, and surely the painting of you meant you’d known him as something other than a ghost. You were simply praying this would work out how you wanted. You needed a semblance of closure, even just a small one.

–

The room was dark, making you double check if you opened your eyes in the first place. You hadn’t had a dream. This was the first time in months you had fallen asleep and woken up without having lived a different life. You felt tears forming in your eyes. The disappointment you felt was so immeasurable that your brain practically short circuited trying to find a way to process it. You knew it was a long shot for everything to be fixed overnight, but you’d expected something. Like he was reading your mind, the bed dipped down, him now occupying the space next to you in bed.

You were worried your head might fall off your neck with how quickly you turned to look at him. The moonlight came beaming in through the window, like she was your secret ally, giving you enough light to finish your battle. It lit him up, practically shining through him like it would a crystal. He was ethereal. You stared into the same brown eyes you’d been looking into for months and felt your resolve give way from within you. You could have looked at him forever, you wanted to look at him forever, but you crashed hard into him. You would have fused your soul to his at that very moment if you were able to. Nobody had ever drawn out such a reaction - you needed to feel him. It was the proof you had been begging for, he was here, he was tangible. You could finally know what it all meant.

You felt his chest jolt as he chuckled at you. “I missed you.” You could hear the smile in his words.

Choking on a sob, you spoke your response so quietly you could barely hear yourself. “What the fuck is going on?” You knew tears were probably soaking through his shirt but he just held you against him. “Please tell me you know what’s happening.” You were muttering your words quickly, sharply inhaling between your sentences as air refused to stay in your lungs.

He ran his hand up and down the length of your forearm, a motion so familiar and so comforting you’re sure your knees would have buckled if you weren’t lying down. “Just relax, honey. I can explain everything, ok? I just need you to breathe right now.”

It was hard to maintain your oxygen through the sobs begging to get out of your chest but you were nothing if not stubborn. You needed an explanation. If that was his condition then so be it. You took a deep breath, regaining your ability to inhale and exhale at a regular pace. You could see the room better now having been awake in the dark for a while, so you tried to focus on anything that might help. The painting. You stared holes into that thing and forced your breathing to even out.

“I was really proud of that one.” His words held an instinctual twinge of fondness, still smiling as he spoke. Like now that he had you, he could describe any horror of the world and still be happy with you in his arms. He looked back at you, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “You seem to get prettier with every lifetime.”

Even as the overwhelming confusion wrecked your brain, your body was completely in tune with him. Warmth seemed to spring to life in your stomach, his words bypassing any guards you had to root themselves within you. He regarded the situation so lightly, so casually. He wasn’t worried about slipping away, or running out of time. He would have given you a decade to calm down if you needed it. He seemed content with just calling you pretty, as though he’d waited a century to touch you again.

“My dreams, were they -” You paused. You didn’t even know what to ask him. “What were my dreams?” Were they real?

He took a moment to just stare at you. The smallest, knowing smile on his face and a look of pure adoration in his eyes. He knew what you were asking. “They were us.” Fucking obviously. If you were any more on the edge of your seat you would fall off. “All the lives we’ve lived together.” Jesus.

“How long ago-”

“Two thousand years, 5 months, 27 days, and-” he leaned up slightly to check the clock “14 hours.” Giving you the cutest tight-lipped smile when he finished talking like he didn’t just say you’d been in love for two millennia.

“So we’re soul mates?”

“Essentially.” He nodded. ‘Soulmates’ was close enough.

“But - is everyone like this, then?” Did all your friends have this too? Everyone in the world? “Everyone has a soulmate?” Your friend’s on her honeymoon right now.

He laughed a little and shook his head. “No, no. It’s just us.” What was so special about the two of you? “For all I know of at least. Your uh…your husband-” He hesitated for just a second, fingers digging into your skin just a fraction harder. “He found out about us. Had his mother cast a spell. He thought he was punishing us, I think. Figured we’d get sick of it after a while. Poor guy, all he did was condemn us to eternity together.” He held no genuine pity for the guy, more amusement at the thought of his plan actually succeeding.

“How long have you been here?” You hadn’t bothered to check when the articles were from, too busy trying to keep your head on straight to look for the publication date.

“A year.” A year of him alone in this house. God, you couldn’t even imagine. “I started having dreams of you. Everyday I just felt, like, something pulling me away from where I was. I knew your grandfather from an old case I worked and everything just seemed to happen.” He reminisced fondly, like the memory didn’t hurt him. “I don’t even really know how I died. I just remember having a party one night, and how the hallway looked from the bottom of the stairs.” Oh my God the warm spot.

“When you moved in I was thrilled but - fuck, honey, it was torture.” He delivered the line like it was a joke but his eyes were watering. “I couldn’t talk to you, I couldn’t help you - I couldn’t fucking touch you and it was unbearable.” His hands hadn’t left you since you woke up. Making up for lost time, you guessed. There was one question you were brutally aware of, something that persisted in your head even as you tried to enjoy the moment.

“Why can I see you now, then?”

He sighed, so full of devastation that it was clear he’d been preparing for this. “You can’t.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen all our lives, Y/n. This is the only one left.” He was so delicate in his explanations. His palms soothing over your face as if trying to physically soothe the sting of his words.

“Wait what does that-” What was he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“To be honest, I don’t really understand it either.” He exhaled at his own ignorance, the words unfamiliar in his mouth. “For the first time, I don’t know what’s gonna happen when you wake up.”

“Wake up? What do you mean wake up - Spence I’m awake.” You held onto his wrist that was near your face for emphasis, his hand still caressing your face. “I’m awake.”

His eyes were definitely watering. “No, Y/n, you’re not.”

“Spencer.” You’d never said it so sadly before. Tears were in your eyes for the second time that night. You would have done anything to carve this moment into stone. Sit here in his arms until time forced you into your next life.

“It’s ok, honey.” He was always reassuring, always safe. “We’ve done this for two thousand years, Y/n. You’re bound to get a little unlucky sometimes.” His optimism in the face of such a crushing development almost made you sick. Some things never change. “I finally have you back, alright? Just lay with me for a while. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ve got plenty more lives to live.”

You halted the tears in your eyes, sniffling once to reign yourself in. “Ok.” You laughed, a little tearfully, and kissed him with all the love you had to give.

Plenty more lives to live.

317 notes · View notes