#i love how wide his shoulders look in some pictures... such a turn on... sorry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicka-nell · 1 year ago

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How they act when they have a crush on you

Pairing: Atsumu x, Suna x, Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Daichi x, Hinata x, Iwaizumi x, Oikawa x reader

Warning: fluff, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 (end)

A total bully. Constantly in teasing mode.

Whether it’s in class and he throws little paper balls at your head, pulls your hair while you’re tying your shoes in the gym, or “borrows” your homework to copy it and give you your notebook back with a scrabbly drawing next to your exercises.

Atsumu takes every free opportunity to pick on you, thinking that you take it as a form of pleasant affection.

You’re chatting with some friends in sports class when you get hit in the back of the head with a ball. It wasn’t a powerful throw. In fact, you barely felt it, but you know immediately who the ball came from when you turn around with a grim expression and see the wide-grinning blond Miya brother running towards you. “Sorry sweetheart. But ya were standing in my throwing lane.” he grins and picks up the ball. Oh, how you’d love to hit him in the face with the ball.

After school you just want to go home, the umbrella is already open as it is pouring like hell, when you feel two strong hands snatching the umbrella from your hands. “Hey sweetheart, I’m sure ya won’t have a problem if I borrow the umbrella, will ya?” Atsumu smirks at you again, already holding the umbrella in his hands so that he doesn’t get wet. You’re next to him, but half your body still gets wet as you try to take the umbrella away from him. “Hey, I’m a damn superb athlete. Can’t risk it to get sick,” he complains, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him so that you don’t get completely wet. You walk home together for quite a while until Atsumu leads in the opposite direction to his own home. With your umbrella, of course. You can prepare yourself to arrive home soaked and chilled. Awesome.

Atsumu would never think of telling you that he has a crush on you. He assumes that you already know this and that you also have feelings for him, but are too shy to tell him.

When a guy invited you out for ice cream and you agreed, Atsumu complained to Osamu. Osamu first had to make it clear to him that you two are definitely not a couple and that you certainly don’t assume that he has feelings for you, because Atsumu is also just an asshole towards you.

Atsumu interrupts you sulking while you’re eating ice cream with the guy, completely ignores this dude and tells you that you shouldn’t eat ice cream with other guys because he likes you and it annoys him when you do things with other guys who aren’t him.

Suna is probably more of a secret, very laid-back admirer who takes things rather slowly.

He doesn’t behave any differently towards you in everyday life. That’s why it’s not obvious to outsiders that he has feelings for you. Even for you.

You’re in the same circle of friends. He’s not particularly jealous when you talk to other men. Possibly also because he knows exactly what he has to offer and is convinced of himself to a healthy degree.

But after a while, you notice that he’s more interested in you. He always likes your pictures on social media. Sometimes he comments on them with emojis. A fiery heart, or a smiley looking mischievously to the side, or even a smiley with heart eyes. Sometimes he also speaks to you directly about your pictures.

Rarely does he tease you.

“Saw your picture yesterday. Looked good,” he says calmly, his legs up against the wall as he lies on his back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it as he looks at his phone in his hands. You’re sitting on the floor with your back against his bed, still finishing up a few things for your group work for school, when you look sideways at him. “Thank you, that was with Tsumu. We played CoD,” you answer him. “A game date?” he replies with an almost arrogant look, still scanning you from his casual position as you shake your head and roll your eyes. Suna wouldn’t admit it, but deep down, he’s glad you denied his question.

Your free classes are for learning. But sometimes you use them to just relax, chat or do nothing. While one or two of you are studying in the school's common room, you approach Suna, who is sitting on a bench with Atsumu and Osamu. Both boys are looking at Suna’s phone, who’s playing a game, when you approach him and ask curiously what he’s doing. All three boys look at you before Suna grabs your hand and casually pulls you onto his lap while resting his head on your shoulder. His hands are around your waist while his phone is in his hands in front of you. “It’s a new mobile game that came out. It’s based on a webtoon,” he answers, still focused on his phone.

Suna would probably confess his feelings to you first. However, his confession is rather spontaneous.

For example, in a store when you buy some fruit sticks on the way back home and he also pays for your stick. Outside, you tell him that he didn’t have to do that and that you can pay for it yourself, but out of the blue, he just tells you that he did it because he likes you. “So what does it matter? I did it because I like you. So bad?”

Like Atsumu, Kuroo is someone who would tease you to get your attention. But not in that childish way with paper balls in your hair.

But at the same time, Kuroo would also help you and is very attentive.

In sports class, you are currently learning the basics of basketball - how to dribble, make a lay-up and so on - before your sports teacher tells you to practice on your own for the next 30 minutes. Kuroo grins at you and throws you the ball. “Do you think you can beat me in a one-on-one?” he smirks, knowing full well that you can’t. Nevertheless, you accept his challenge, start to play and quickly lose the ball. “You need to be less stiff. Try to move with the ball. And... try to keep the ball at about waist height when you dribble,” Kuroo says as he dribbles past you to make a smooth 3-pointer.

You’re sitting on a bench in the shadows during your break. It’s a hot summer day and you just want to get somewhere where there’s air conditioning. “You should drink more. It’s pretty hot today and you’re not an oryx antelope that can go without water for long,” says Kuroo, who suddenly stands next to you at the bench and holds out a small bottle of water.

He always acts so tough around others, but he cares about the people who are important to him.

Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Probably not, but at some point you would notice it yourself and ask him casually.

If you asked him about it, he’d start off by rambling and beating around the bush, but then eventually admit to having feelings for you.

Ushijima would probably behave the same way towards you as he usually does. At least that’s what he thinks.

But you can actually see him looking in your direction from time to time and subconsciously observing you.

He also subconsciously thinks of you, asking Tendou, for example, whether he could imagine that you might also like certain things.

In class, you are all already in the classroom waiting for the teacher, while you talk to Semi about the new shop next to the school and Tendou tries to tell Ushijima about the latest manga he has read. Tendou quickly realizes that Ushijima isn’t paying any attention to him, but that his gaze is instead wandering toward you and Semi. “Wakatoshi? Were you even listening to me?” Ushijima barely visibly flinches, noticing that his thoughts were somewhere else when he looks over at Tendou again. “Can you lend me the magazine? They always have such interesting promotions on the last page,” he says, completely forgotten that his attention was still on you earlier. Unlike Tendou, who purses his lips and narrows his eyes.

“Uhhh, tell me, did you watch the new K-Drama series? The one with the lawyers and the forensic scientist? Mmmh, the lawyer’s secretary is sooo cute!” Tendou chants as he walks with Ushijima towards the gym for training. “No. Do you think Y/n would like the series? She likes watching these things, doesn’t she?” Ushijima asks dryly, not realizing that he’s only thinking about you again. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you two should watch the series,” Tendou replies, hoping to finally get a little more out of Ushijima, but he doesn’t respond to his statement anymore.

It would take so long for Ushijima to realize that he has feelings for you. Whether he finds out on his own, because he realizes that this rapid heartbeat is not because of his “suddenly worsening condition”, or because Tendou gives him a few clues to think about his feelings for you.

However, Ushijima would tell you as soon as he recognized it for himself. But not with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner.

No, he would simply ask you at the next opportunity, if you were interested in him, because he is pretty sure that his interest in you goes beyond friendship. Not caring if you were alone or around friends during his confession.

Sawamura is a little gentleman. He would show his kind of affection through small things. The typical “act of kindness”.

Whether it’s opening the door, holding your school bag while you put on your jacket, or simply walking home together, even if it means a ten-minute diversions for him.

“Ah damn...” you curse quietly as you sit in your seat in the classroom and realise that you’ve forgotten your pencil case at home. “Dai-“ you’re turning around to ask Sawamura if he can lend you a pencil only to see him holding one out to you already, with a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” You whisper quietly and turn back to the front.

You’re on your way home after a pretty exhausting day at school. All of you stayed a little longer in the school library today to study for your final exams. So it’s already dark when you go home and you’re upset about not bringing a jacket. “Here. Next time you should remember to pack something warm. You never know when it might rain and the temperature could drop,” Sawamura says calmly, holding out the jacket he wears for volleyball training. He himself is still wearing his school uniform jacket. After all, he doesn’t want to catch a cold. You gratefully accept the sports jacket and put it over your shoulders. Sawamura wouldn’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you forgot your jacket next time as well, and wore his instead, because seeing you in his way too big jacket somehow makes his heart beat faster.

Sawamura would think long and hard about whether to confess his feelings to you, because he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship between you. But in the end, he would be the one to confess his feelings to you first, in the hope that you would return them.

Unlike Ushijima, however, he would do it at a moment that suits him. For example, when the two of you are alone, on the way home together, in a quiet and laid-back environment and a relaxed atmosphere.

Hinata is so clumsy and although he tries to hide his feelings a little bit and keep them under control, even a blind man would understand how much he has a crush on you.

As soon as you enter the room, he gets all nervous and his vocabulary suddenly shrinks so much that it feels like it only consists of 30 words.

Even if Hinata appeared nervous towards you, he would never be someone who would tease you or have a cheeky remark on his lips. Nor would he ignore you. He would also be the cheerful and friendly whirlwind towards you, just a little awkward. He would try to support you, even if it was just carrying the bench in the gym together with you.

“H-hi,” Hinata stutters and turns away, glowing red in the face, as you smile at him and greet him too. “I’ve brought water for myself,” he says with a smile and holds out a water bottle to you. You give him an irritated look, but then giggle. “For you? Yes, that’s nice, but why are you giving it to me?” you ask and notice Hinata blushing again. He’s probably embarrassed right now. But you think it’s cute. “Eh, I mean for you. You. I’ve got my bottle here! See? It’s even full!” he says and reaches for the bottle in the side of his bag, wanting to shake it to show you that it’s full. But instead, he presses down on the bottle and splashes the water on his face. You giggle, but reach into your own gym bag and pull out a small towel to put on Hinata’s wet head so he can dry off. A gesture that is probably too much for his nerves right now.

Tired after his hard and long volleyball training with Kageyama, Hinata is just about to get on his bike and ride home when he sees you sitting at the bus stop in the dark. A little confused, he asks you what you are still doing here at this time of night when you tell him that you missed your bus."Then come on, I’ll drive you home!" he says with a cheerful smile and you don’t even have the chance to say no. Because you’re already sitting on the front of his handlebars while he pedals his bike and takes you home. He doesn’t seem to care that you live in the opposite direction to him and that it will take him even longer to get home, thanks to you. “Hold on tight, the Shouyou taxi is fast as lightning,” he says with a grin and drives you home.

With Hinata, it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether he confesses his feelings to you or not. Either he confesses them to you, but then because he babbles and the words just fall out of him with nervousness, or you tell him at some point that you have feelings for him.

If you are the one who confesses his feelings first, you can literally watch a fuse burn out in his head and how he is completely overwhelmed until he realizes what you have just told him.

Iwaizumi is similar to Sawamura. He would also shine through his act of kindness. Even if he would try to hide it coolly.

However, Iwaizumi also has a protective and slightly jealous side, especially when Oikawa gets the idea to flirt with you. He doesn’t like it when you feel uncomfortable or when other guys get too close to you.

“You shouldn’t carry such heavy things. You’ll damage your back,” Iwaizumi grumbles, before taking the bag with all the water bottles for the volleyball team from you and hanging it over his shoulder. “Hajime... I’m not five anymore... I can carry the bag by myself.” You answer him with a sigh. He’s a bit like your mum... far too caring. The only thing missing now is that he shouts after you in the morning to always bring a jacket so that you don’t freeze in the summer when it’s thirty degrees… “Never mind, I’ll carry the bag now...” he replies casually and turns his head away from you, but the tips of his reddish ears betray his coolness.

“Uuuhh my favorite manager is back” grins Oikawa, who runs up to you and hugs you as if you were best friends, but quickly lets go of you when he is hit in the back of the head with a ball. “Hey Shittykawa, leave her alone. We’re here to train, not to flirt with women. Especially not with our manager, you idiot!” Iwaizumi yells annoyed and approaches you both, while Oikawa tries to hide behind you. “Not my face, not my face!” Oikawa begs from behind you, leaning his head against your back. Iwaizumi tries to pull him away from you as the coach calls everyone together and demands their attention.

Iwaizumi would definitely be the first to tell you that he has feelings for you. But also alone, not in front of all your friends.

He would pull you aside, casually ask if you had a moment and just before he confessed his feelings to you. His tough determination would leave him and he would scratch the back of his neck until he got the words out almost sulkily, not looking you in the eye at first, before repeating his words with more determination, this time looking at you.

Oikawa would try to win your attention with every second.

Whether it’s in class because he offers to answer difficult questions and flaunts the answer to make himself look smart and strong in front of you, or whether it’s in training when he scores 5 points only with his serves.

Even your teacher doesn’t call you by name as often as Oikawa does when he wants your attention.

He also doesn’t like it when he sees you with other guys. He always pushes his way in between your conversations and tries to be close to you.

“Oh hey, Y/n-chan, what are you talking about right now?” he asks with feigned curiosity, his arms draped over your shoulders as he stares darkly into the eyes of the young guy in front of you. “Oh eh, we were talking about the new movie that airs tomorrow,” you reply, looking back over your shoulder at Oikawa, who suddenly looks at you with a smile, the dark expression completely gone. “A movie? Shall we go together?” He’s not really in the mood for the cinema, but if it means this guy leaves and Oikawa can spend more time with you, it’s a win-win.

Oikawa walks out of the changing room with a big grin on his face. Freshly showered and in everyday clothes after his team won the game against a neighboring team. “Did you see how many points I scored in that game? It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, totally full of himself, as he puts his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “Yes... you really scored a lot of points. But Hajime was also really-“, ”Iwa-chan could only score so many points because I’m the best setter. Right? You saw that, didn’t you? How I pass the ball into Iwa-chan’s hand?" he interrupts you, almost as if it annoys him that you were about to praise his best friend. With a sigh, you just chuckle. “Mhh yes, that’s right. You’re really great.” you answer him and watch as his eyes sparkle even brighter and he happily presses you against his chest. “I knew you only had eyes for me, little birdy.”

Since Oikawa assumes that every woman likes him anyway, he also expects you to like him. Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Maybe.

The fact that you two are always doing so much together and that he’s like a clingy puppy somehow blurs the line between friendship and relationship.

At some point, when a guy had asked for your number, Oikawa had then shouted loudly that the guy should leave his girlfriend alone. You looked at him in confusion and there was a brief, awkward silence until you asked him if by any chance he had feelings for you.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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hyunjincanraptoo · 1 month ago

Note

first of all, congrats!!! u really deserve the 500 followers, your writing is sosososo incredible <3

im begging you to do number 3 🙂‍↕️ tysmmmm <3

Hi, baby! Tysm 🤭 I'm so so so sorry it took SO long. I was really busy but now I'm back. This prompt was supposed to be small and suggestive but I got carried away and honestly turned out to be the best comeback hehe please enjoy 💜

3. Flirting during his insta live

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, sub!hyunjin, sex toy (idk if the toy actually exists irl but in my fic it exists)

Alexa, play Hotline Bling by Drake

Hyunjin’s live starts late.

His hair’s a mess, fresh out of the shower judging by the damp strands tugged behind his ears. He’s in a loose white tee, collar stretched just enough to reveal his collarbone, one side of the fabric sliding dangerously off his shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep”, he murmurs, eyes flicking to the comments, “Figured I’d keep you company”

The chat is exploding, but one comment makes his lips twitch.

‘You couldn’t sleep so you came here to thirst trap us. Be honest.’

He huffs a laugh through his nose. Looks into the camera like he knows exactly who sent that.

“Some of you are very… confident tonight”, he says, sipping his water slowly

You send another:

‘Pull that collar down a little more. For science'

He chokes, coughing into his fist.

“I think this shirt’s already struggling for its life”, he murmurs, fingers ghosting over the edge of the neckline. His thumb dips under the fabric like he might give it to you

Then he stops and smirks

“Nah. Not for free”

The chat is in chaos:

“WHAT IS GOING ON??”

“WHO is he talking to???”

“Hyunjin why are you RED?”

Another comment:

‘Don’t act shy now. I’ve seen how you get when you’re desperate’

His lips part. He sits back, letting out a slow exhale, like he’s trying to behave.

“You’re very brave behind a screen”, he mutters, “Want to say that with your mouth full next time?”

The room goes silent for a second before he realizes

Instantly, his eyes go wide

“I MEAN! Like… Full of… tea. Or food. Because you’re eating. Clearly”

He buries his face in his sleeve, muffling his laugh while fans go feral.

You don’t let up:

‘You’re twitching your thigh again. Getting worked up, baby?’

His leg immediately stops. He shifts in his seat, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“I hate you”, he says with a grin, “You know exactly what you’re doing”

More chaos:

“IS HE FLIRTING??”

“HYUNJIN YOUR THIGH IS WHAT??”

“Oh he’s GONE"

You finish him off with:

‘If you end this live without calling me, I’ll remind everyone what your voice sounds like when you moan’

He freezes.

His mouth falls open. He slams the screen with his hand like it’ll shut you up.

“Okay! Alright. That’s ENOUGH. This was nice. Love you guys. Goodnight, BYE…!”

The live ends mid giggle, his face and ears red

Seconds later, your phone lights up:

[Jinnie 💜]:

You’re so devilish.

I'm hard and mad.

Call me now.

You reply to him:

No. You call me

Just like that, your phone rings ten minutes later.

You answer without a word, smirking as you picture him pacing his bedroom, hoodie probably yanked off already, hair still damp, frustrated fingers raking through it.

“Are you out of your mind?!”, he says low

“Hi to you, too”

“You made me hard in front of a hundred thousand people!”, he groans, “Do you have any idea what I looked like trying not to shift in my seat?!”

“Oh, I know exactly what you looked like”, you stretch out on your bed, “Leg twitching, thigh flexed, little pout. The usual”

“Stop”

“Why? You like it”

You listen to his breath turning heavy

“You really said moan” he mutters, disbelieving, “I almost threw my phone across the room. My manager texted me with question marks!”

You laugh softly, “What did he say?”

“‘Was that meant to be public?’” Hyunjin mimics in a mocking voice. Then, he adds lower, “I told him it was improv”

“You’re welcome for the material”

Another pause.

You hear him exhale

“I had to sit still for ten minutes before calling”, he confesses, “I was so hard it hurt”

You bite your lip, “And now?”

“Now I’m on the edge just from hearing your voice”

He sounds wrecked already, like the tension hasn’t left his body since the second you typed that last comment.

“Say something else”

“What do you want?” you murmur, “Something filthy, or something sweet?”

“Something that’ll make me lose it”

You smile into the phone.

“I’m picturing your hand right now”, you whisper, “Fisted in the sheets or wrapped around your cock… I don’t know which, but I know your eyes are fluttering. You’re biting your lip. You’re wishing it was my mouth, aren’t you?”

A strangled sound escapes him, halfway between a groan and a curse.

You go on, just a little devilish

“Bet you keep replaying my comment in your head. Wondering if they could hear it when you moaned for me last night”

“Fuck”, he breathes, “You need to come over. Now”

“Why?”, you tease, “So I can finish what I started?”

“No”, he says, voice shaking, “So I can shut you up with my mouth”

Another silence falls between you.

Then, he adds

“I’m not even touching myself yet. I’m just hard. Just… imagining your voice and trying not to come in my sweats like a desperate loser”

You hum, “Then let me talk you through it”

He groans when you say it. His reply is barely audible, more breath than sound, “Please…”

You hear rustling, clothes shifting, probably the slide of his sweats down his hips. Then another sound— skin on skin, a slow stroke, a long exhale

“God, I’m so hard” he whispers, “Feels like I’ve been edged for hours”

“Is it leaking?”

“Of course it is! You ruined me on live and now you ask like you're innocent!”

You hum, smugly

“Wrap your fingers around the base. Squeeze just a little. Pretend it’s my hand”

“Shit…”

“Slow strokes, baby. I want you aching, want you whining”

His breath catches at that, a soft whimper spilling out before he can stop it.

“I miss your mouth”, he groans, “I’m picturing you on top of me, licking the head, taking me so well and slow and deep… I’d go crazy”

“Good”, you whisper, “Because if I were there, I’d keep my tongue just barely on you. Teasing your tip, watching you twitch, making you beg”

Another needy moan.

“I’m close already”, he confesses, voice shaking, “Your voice is… fuck, it’s too much”

“Then stop”

He freezes, “What?!”

“Take your hand off. I want you desperate”

You hear his breath hitch.

“You’re cruel”

You laugh, “No, baby. I’m careful. You’re not cumming yet. I want it to feel unbearable when you finally do”

He groans, deep and guttural.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep talking like that”

“Then don’t touch. Be good for me”

He breathes hard for a few beats, trying to obey. You can feel the tension even through the call— his thighs probably clenched, abs tight, cock dripping and untouched.

You lower your voice, letting it wrap around him like a spell.

“Tomorrow, I want your knees on the bed and your hands behind your back. I want to see how long you last with nothing but my mouth and my voice. You won’t get to touch me. You’ll be so good, Hyunjin. You’ll cry for it.”

The gasp that leaves him is shattered and helpless

“Please, Yn. I… I can’t. Let me come. Please”

“Not yet”,you murmur, wicked, “Get your toy. The one I bought for you. We’re not done”

You hear the shuffle of him getting up again. You hear his grunt followed by the sound of a drawer opening.

“I hate how fast I knew where it was”, he mutters.

You grin, “No, you love it. Now lie back, be a good boy and put it on”

He huffs— you can feel he is half aroused, half embarrassed.

“You’re so lucky I’m in love with you”

“Oh, baby, you’re not even ready for what I’m going to do when I get there”.

The sound of him gulping fills the silence before you hear a click. Then,a quiet vibration hums through the phone line.

“Fuck… it’s cold”, he gasps, “But it’s… shit… oh my god”

“Feel good?”

“Feels perfect. It’s just barely moving but it’s already driving me insane”

“Great. Now imagine me straddling you, using it on you while I kiss your neck. My lips are right on that spot behind your ear you always twitch for”

He moans— throaty, desperate.

“Keep your hands off”, you warn gently, “I want your hips jerking on their own. I want you to just take it”

He whimpers and the sound shoots heat straight down your core

“‘Jinnie”, you whisper, “I want you so ruined for me that your legs are shaking when I finally ride you”

“I’m already shaking”, he breathes.

The vibrations intensify a little, his breath stutters as the toy pulses against his leaking tip.

“You sound so pretty”, you murmur, “So needy. I could keep you like this for hours. Wet. Hard. Helpless”

“I’m gonna come”, he gasps suddenly.

“No, you’re not”

He groans loud, long and filthy. You can hear the tension in every inch of him, the fight to obey even while his body begs to finish.

“Please, baby… just a little, just let me…”

“No”, you whisper, “Not until I say so”

He cries out again, frustrated and fucked out already, hips twitching as the toy drags him through wave after wave of denied release.

And then softly, broken and breathless he begs again,

“…I can’t wait anymore. I need you”

You smile, voice softening into something sort of indulgent.

“I’m already in the car”

The drive takes just ten minutes. You keep him on the phone the entire time, teasing him with words that drips into his ear like venom.

“Are you still shaking, baby?”

His breath is ragged, “I can’t even think”

“Good. Keep the toy on the lowest setting. Don’t you dare touch yourself”

He groans, completely tortured, “It’s throbbing. I’m so close, just from your voice…”

“Don’t finish, Hyunjin. Not yet. You want me to take over, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please. I want… fuck, I want your hands, your mouth, anything”

You smirk, pulling into the parking lot.

“I’m outside”

He whimpers

“Open the door for me. Don’t cover yourself. I want to see everything”

A pause. Then a resigned, ruined, “You’re actually evil, aren't you”

But he obeys.

When the door opens, he’s wrecked— shirtless, sweats pushed down just far enough to expose the head of his cock, the toy snug against it, humming softly. His hair’s a mess, his lips are parted, skin flushed pink, and his thighs tremble from restraint.

You step inside without a word, setting your bag down slowly as you drink in the sight.

Then, finally you say, “Back on the couch. Hands behind you”

He sinks into the cushions, eyes wide and glassy with lust, trembling as he folds his hands behind him. You sit beside him, trailing one finger over his knee.

“Look at you”, you whisper. “All this from a few comments on your live”

He exhales shakily, jaw clenched, “You knew what you were doing, Yn”

You hum, “And you knew you liked it”

Your hand slides up his thigh, but without touching where he needs you most. Not yet, just light circles, featherlight pressure, making him twitch and groan and beg silently with his eyes.

“You’re going to take your punishment so well, aren’t you?”

He nods frantically, “Please. I’ll do anything. Just, please…”

You lean in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Then ask nicely”

He chokes on a whimper.

“Please let me come. I can’t take it anymore. I want to come for you, please… please, Yn…”

You smile.

“Then lie back for me, babe”

He lies back like you told him, chest rising in shallow bursts, the muscles in his thighs drawn tight from holding back.

“You’ve been so good”, you murmur, kneeling between his legs, “So obedient for me”

“Please”, he whispers, voice cracking, “Please just touch me”

You wrap your fingers around the toy, guiding it in slow circles over his tip, cruel but sweet. His entire body jolts. His head tips back with a strangled moan, hips twitching off the couch.

“Shh” you coo, “you’re almost there”

You finally take the toy off, and his cock slaps against his stomach— red, leaking, aching. He cries out at the loss, desperate now, every inch of him trembling.

Then your hand wraps around him— finally— and he sobs your name.

“You’re gonna come so hard for me”, you whisper, starting to stroke, “You’ve been so good. Just let go, Hyunjin”

His eyes squeeze shut. His mouth falls open. Your pace is steady, slick, punishing, your thumb dragging over the slit with every upward motion.

“Yn… fucj, I’m gonna…”

“Yes”, you whisper, “Come for me. Right now. Show me how much you need me”

He breaks with a loud, shuddering moan— violent, helpless, beautiful. His back arches off the couch as he spills hot across his stomach and your fingers, legs trembling uncontrollably, voice reduced to gasps and half sobs.

But you don’t stop.

You keep stroking, slow and firm.

“W–wait... fuck... Yn!”

His whole body flinches, hands flying up instinctively, trying to push you away but you catch his wrists easily, pinning them against his stomach with one hand.

“No” you whisper, breath hot against his neck, “You don’t get to stop yet. Not after how filthy you were on that live”

He lets out a strangled cry, hips jerking, cock twitching painfully sensitive under your touch.

“Please... oh my god, please.. I can’t, I...”

You kiss his neck, sweet and unhurried, while your hand works him through the overstimulation— his moans breaking, turning into gasps, into high pitched sounds he probably didn’t know he could make.

“Look at you", you whisper, “Shaking so pretty. All for me"

He’s gone. Eyes glassy, voice cracked, body trying to twist away from the unbearable friction even as his cock stays hard like a rock in your grip— needy even after release, aching for mercy.

“Please, baby”, he whines, “It's enough... please, please...”

You finally ease off, hand releasing him slowly, trailing your fingers gently up his stomach.

“Next time you whisper, lips brushing his ear, “you’ll think twice before reading my comments out loud”

He’s still panting when he looks at you, dazed and completely ruined.

“You’re insane” he mumbles.

You grin, brushing his sweaty hair

“Better than my comments on your insta live?”

He lets out a tired laugh.

"I’m never going on live again"

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep, @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

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st7rnioioss · 8 months ago

Text

˙ . ꒷ 🦌 girly!reader showing skater!chris how to scrapbook .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

₊˚⊹⋆ … you sat pretty in chris’s lap, your skirt fanning over his thighs beneath yours. his hands were securely grabbing your waist as he pressed his chest against your back, his chin leaning on your shoulder to watch your movements intently.

“see? this is from your birthday.” you smiled proudly, shoving off the creative but beautifully decorated page. pictures of chris, you and chris together, his brothers, parents, and your mutual friends adorned the paper, a small recap of the day in the corner of the page.

journaling and scrapbooking was a fond hobby of yours. you loved how you can write down and save memories, whether it was from vacations, trips, birthday parties, or just spending a day with friends or your boyfriend. you just had to teach chris, or at least show him your stuff. he had peeked over your shoulder a couple times, but never fully sat down, like now, to watch.

chris leaned forward as his grip on you tightened, careful not to hurt you in any way, his gaze falling over the page. he quickly remembered the day all too well, a faint smile tugging on his lips.

“wow… you’re like.. a pro at this,” he chuckled, his fingers gently running over the candid photo of the two of you, his arms around your waist from behind, lips attached to the top of your head.

he loved that photo. it showed off how different you two were, but how perfectly you fit together. your pink dress next to his almost all-black outfit and huge jeans was not an unusual sight. your wide smile always made his heart flutter and a smile tug on his lips. you were everything to him.

“thank you,” you giggled, turning your head to face him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, wiping off the lipgloss stain as you pulled back again with a small ‘sorry’.

“okay, so. how do we do this?” chris asked, peeking over your shoulder again to look at the pictures you had just taken today, watching you flip to an empty page.

“you’ll start off by glueing the picture wherever you like, okay? and then i’ll add a little recap of our day. and you can doodle… or add some stickers.” you explained with a faint smile, handing him a glue stick to put the candid photos wherever he desired.

chris usually had a fair amount of remaining stickers laying around, since he couldn’t fit them on his skateboard. or computer.

chris quickly got to work, taking the cap off the glue stick, picking up one of the pictures to carefully bring the glue onto the back of it, leaving a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade.

“is here okay?” he asked, the picture hovering over the paper. he was careful not to place it, in case it was a stupid placement considering you had to add some writing and he himself had to add stickers.

“no, that’s perfect. wherever you want, baby.” you smiled at him, leaning over the table, your elbows resting on the hard surface to hold up your chin in your palms as you watched him stick it onto the empty page.

he turned to look at you, smiling widely as his eyes flickered back down to the paper, before looking back at you.

“see, that’s perfect, chris! and now add the rest, maybe one of the other page, or something, just not in the middle, then i can’t close it.” you smiled back up at him, your fingers momentarily caressing the side of his face in a sweet gesture, your fingers momentarily brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

he suddenly leaned closer to you, pressing a fat kiss to your cheek. and then a few more. you squealed, a loud giggle slipping past your lips as he laughed with you.

“i love you. and i love this, it’s really fun. i get why you like doing this so much.” he chuckled, planting a final kiss to your pink cheeks before going back to glueing the photos onto the scrapbook. you watched him - yeah, him, not his work. your eyes fluttered over his features, his concentrated expression, fixated on the picture, his tousled hair.

after a moment or two chris showed you the page, and you smiled proudly at him, telling him he did an excellent job. he pulled out some stickers, and you allowed him to add a few since this was your page, and you wanted your personalities to shine through.

“chris! what is this,” you laughed, pointing at the sticker chris had added. you had been so focused on writing a small amount of text, that you didn’t see the stuff he had added.

there was a sticker of bambi and thumper, and he had drawn two arrows pointing at each character, writing your name above bambi and his name above thumper.

it was such a typical move of chris, always sending you random pictures of two characters, animals, items, you name it, and saying ‘this is us’.

“what do you mean! that’s literally us,” he laughed back, putting the cap back on the pen as he threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

your heart fluttered at his words, a huge urge to kiss him dumb was growing in your tummy, but you pushed it off.

“you are such a silly guy.” you giggled, palming your face as you leaned back into his chest, laughing as you felt his arms wrap around you, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, feeling the soft skin of his lips meet your flushed cheek, his chest rumbling with laughter as well.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘

chris had been fairly entertained about making the page as perfect as possible. he went as long as finishing your little text with a recap, taking over your work completely. you weren’t complaining, leaning back into his chest as you watched him let his creative side out, as if that wasn’t out all the time, even snapping a few pictures of him. now you had something to do tomorrow as well.

“look what i made, isn’t it cute?” he looked up at you from his bent over position on the table, his elbows resting on the wood.

chris had put the cliché ‘y/n + chris’ in a heart, even adding an arrow through the pink heart.

“it’s like, y’know, in the forest and stuff, where people carve it into trees. i thought it was sweet.. and, yeah. since we don’t exactly have a tree growing out of your scrapbook.” he smiled sweetly at you, and you couldn’t contain the burst of emotions that went through you. he was such a goof, but in the silliest most perfect way ever.

you immediately threw your hands around his neck, repositioning yourself so you were straddling his lap, one leg on each side of his thighs clad in the jeans a few sizes too big.

chris was startled for a moment, but he was used to you being touchy with him, so he quickly melted into your touch, his hands resting on your hips.

“god, i love you, so, so much. silly guy.” you giggled, speaking quietly as you hugged him tight. you leaned back to look at him, running a hand through his tousled hair as you planted a kiss onto his soft lips, and then another, and another.

“i prefer ‘i love you, babe’ but silly guy works.”

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘

you ended up flipping the page to add a little more text, chris going off with stickers and doodles. he seemed to like this a lot. he was the cutest when it came to this, writing ‘y/n + chris forever’ all over the pages, and if that wasn’t good enough for him, he went all out with ‘i love my girlfriend’.

you were still perched in his lap, the both of you leaning over the table, but still leaving space for each other to fill out the page without bumping your elbows into each other. you were both focused, some small talk here and there, laughing at stupid stuff, giggling at some words chris had misspelled, but lovingly fixing it for him, even sneaking some kisses in between words and stickers.

you had perfectly written down a more detailed version of the start of your morning, hence the new empty page, continuing on with the rest of your day. how you both woke up around the same time, spending another half hour in bed cuddled up close to each other. after finally getting up, you had had breakfast, before getting ready to stroll around the park all day.

you insisted on getting coffee, dragging chris to the nearest coffee shop, finding an empty bench near the small pond in the park, just mindlessly chatting until chris had suggested to take a few pictures. ‘just because’ he had said at the moment, but later explained that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. like he ever could.

chris had even made his own little section on the empty page you had flipped, writing his own perspective of the day you had spent together. he allowed you to read it, and in your world it was a hundred times better than what you had written - which, of course, he denied.

“should i add this?” he randomly blurted after silence for a moment, pulling out his wallet. you knew exactly what was coming as soon as you saw the black leather, and you turned completely red in the face as he pulled out a specific picture.

and there it was, laying on the table right in front of you both.

“chris! no, no, no! stop! we’re not adding that,” you blubbered, completely flustered as you hid the picture with your hands. you knew that picture all too well, and the moments before he had taken it was replaying in your head. such a tease.

it was a picture chris had begged to take of you, laying on your back in your bed, completely naked, looking up at chris behind the lens.

he laughed, stuffing it back into the depths of his wallet for no one but him to see, ever.

“what? it’s a beautiful picture. you’re beautiful,” he continued chuckling, wrapping his arms around you while you sat there, hiding your flushed face in your palms.

you had begged chris to not put that picture in his wallet, and just keep it in your nightstand drawer or something. but, of course, chris had denied and put it in his wallet instead.

you could tell he didn’t believe you, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him as you scoffed, but you pulled him closer to you.

“i hate you so much,” you mumbled, withdrawing your hands from your face to look at him, still a wide smile on the both of your lips.

“oh yeah? do you?” he teased back, raising his brows at you as he leaned in closer, obviously not believing a word. you both knew you were lying, and that only made the whole thing more exciting.

“shut up..” you mumbled, your words trailing off as you leaned in, closing the painfully small gap between your bodies, your lips attaching to his as you interlace your fingers in his hair, forgetting completely about the doodles you were gonna add to the page. oops?

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘

more skater!chris here

୭˚. ᵎᵎ taglist: @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @elizasturn @witchofthehour

#🐇་༘࿐ works #chris ₊˚⊹♡#⌗⋆. skater!chris x girly!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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rootedinrevisions · 9 months ago

Text

Enough for You

SUMMARY: Heavily based on/inspired by Enough for You by Olivia Rodrigo. After months of chasing storms and harboring unspoken feelings, the moment of truth finally arrives. When Tyler returns to the team with someone new by his side, it shatters the hope you secretly held onto. In the aftermath of his abandonment, you're left grappling with heartache, wondering why you were never enough for him. As Tyler tries to make amends for leaving, the conversation takes a painful turn when he confronts the feelings he never knew existed. But some apologies can't fix what’s been broken, and all you want is to go back to the way things were—before you let him into your heart.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unrequited love.

WORD COUNT: 6.3k (sorry, not sorry)

Note: This is angsty as hell! I've been going through some heavy stuff in my personal life that has me feeling extra angsty. This fic is filled with angst and heartbreak so just be aware. This is how I'm coping with what I'm dealing with in my own life. Hope you enjoy xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The bathroom mirror reflected a version of yourself you’d rarely put on display. Your hair was curled just the right way, and your makeup, while subtle, was meticulously done. You hadn’t planned on going all out like this initially, but after scrolling through pictures of girls Tyler had been seen with—girls with flawless hair and expertly done makeup—you couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it would take for him to notice you.

Tyler Owens. The name that had taken up too much space in your mind for the past several months. He was more than just the leader of The Wranglers team or your boss; he was the man you’d fallen for. Hard. And you didn’t just want him to see you as a friend anymore.

The rest of the team was downstairs already, probably gearing up for the day’s shoot. Normally, you’d be there early too, grabbing coffee with Boone or discussing ideas with Lily. Today, though, you needed these extra few minutes. Maybe, just maybe, today was the day Tyler would finally notice you.

You gave yourself a final look, smoothing down your shirt, and headed out of the room. By the time you reached the lobby, the team was already gathered, discussing plans for the day.

Boone was the first to see you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Whoa! Look at you! You clean up nice,” he teased, though his tone was genuinely complimentary.

Lily turned at the sound of Boone’s voice and smiled. “You look amazing! What’s the occasion?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you shrugged it off. “No occasion. Just felt like switching things up.”

The compliments kept coming. Dexter, who was typically more reserved, gave you an approving nod. But the one person you hoped would notice? He hadn’t said a word.

Tyler stood off to the side, his focus on something entirely unrelated, fiddling with his storm-chasing gear on his truck. He didn’t even glance your way, and your heart sank a little.

Boone, always quick to read a room, smirked and nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey, man, what do you think? She’s looking good today, right?”

Tyler paused for a brief moment, barely looking up from his equipment. His expression didn’t change as he muttered, “I’m not really the compliment type, Boone.”

Your stomach dropped at his response. You had been hoping—no, counting—on some kind of reaction, but his indifference stung more than you’d expected. You tried to brush it off, hiding the hurt with a forced smile, but inside, the disappointment was palpable.

Lily shot you a sympathetic look, sensing the tension.

Boone, never one to let an awkward moment slide, gave Tyler an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Not the compliment type? Man, give her something. She looks great.”

Tyler shrugged as if the whole thing didn’t matter. “She always looks fine,” he said simply and then turned his attention back to his gear.

Fine.

The word echoed in your head, and for the first time that morning, you felt foolish for trying so hard. You had put in all that extra effort to be noticed, to be something more in his eyes, but apparently, "fine" was all you were.

You forced yourself to join in the conversation with the others, but the sting of his words stayed with you. As the group began to move toward the parking lot to load up the vehicles, you fell into step beside Lily. She bumped her shoulder against yours lightly.

“He’s an idiot,” she whispered, offering a small, supportive smile.

You tried to laugh, though it came out hollow. “Yeah, well, I knew that already.”

But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The Wranglers’ convoy made its way out of town, the early morning sun casting a golden hue over the horizon. The team was running on fumes, both literally and figuratively, so when Boone pulled into a gas station, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. While the others went about refueling the vehicles and stretching their legs, you spotted a small coffee shop across the street.

A chance to bring back some caffeine, but more importantly, a chance to do something for Tyler.

Without thinking twice, you hurried across the road, the familiar smell of roasted beans hitting you as soon as you stepped inside the shop. The bell above the door chimed, and the barista greeted you with a smile. You rattled off two orders: one for yourself and one for Tyler—black coffee, extra shot of espresso. You didn’t even need to ask what he wanted; you’d known his usual for months, committing it to memory in a way that only someone who cared a little too much would.

Within minutes, you were heading back to the gas station, clutching both cups in your hands. A tiny flicker of hope sparked inside you—maybe this would be the moment Tyler noticed. Maybe the fact that you remembered his drink order without needing to ask would mean something to him.

You spotted him leaning against the truck, his arms crossed as he waited for the tank to fill. His focus was elsewhere, probably already thinking ahead to the day’s chase, completely oblivious to the fact that you were heading his way with a small gesture of care.

“Here,” you said, holding out the cup toward him.

Tyler looked down at the coffee, momentarily confused before taking it from your hand. He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he hadn’t expected it.

“Black coffee. Extra shot of espresso,” you said softly, your heart picking up speed as you recited his order, hoping the words would register with him. Hoping that he’d realize you didn’t need to ask because you already knew.

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to yours briefly before he gave a slight nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, bringing the cup to his lips and taking his first sip.

That was it. Just a nod. No smile, no acknowledgment of the fact that you’d remembered his exact order, nothing. The flicker of hope you’d felt moments earlier dimmed into something closer to disappointment.

You stood there, feeling a bit like a fool for expecting anything more. After all, this was Tyler Owens—the same Tyler who never gave out compliments, the same Tyler who always kept his emotions locked up tight. Why had you thought this would be any different?

You shifted on your feet, holding your own cup a little tighter. “I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” you added, trying to keep the conversation going, hoping for... something.

He nodded again, glancing back toward the others as Boone finished filling up the tank. “Appreciate it,” he said flatly, his focus already shifting away from you and back to the task at hand.

You forced a smile, though the sting of his indifference was hard to ignore. You weren’t expecting grand gestures, but maybe just a little more than a nod. With the wind knocked out of your sails, you turned and headed toward the other side of the truck, sipping your own coffee, the bitter taste mirroring the feeling settling in your chest.

Lily caught your eye from where she stood talking to Dexter, and she shot you a questioning look as if to say, How’d it go? You gave her a small shake of your head and shrugged, silently communicating that it hadn’t gone the way you’d hoped.

The team loaded back into the vehicles, ready to hit the road again, but as you climbed into your seat, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. The weight of always trying, always hoping—only to come up short.

And the worst part? No matter how much it stung, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop caring, couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, one day, Tyler Owens would notice you the way you’d been noticing him all along.

The Wranglers team hit the open road, the small town shrinking behind them as fields stretched out on either side of the highway. You sat in the front passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, a map spread across your lap, though you both knew you wouldn’t really need it. Tyler had been storm chasing for years, and he could practically navigate these roads in his sleep. Your job as navigator was mostly just for show, a formality, but you took it seriously nonetheless—just like being the DJ.

Tyler drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between you, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The rest of the convoy followed behind, the team moving as one unit, always in sync, always chasing the next storm.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through your Spotify library, stopping at the playlist you had saved specifically for moments like this. The one titled simply “Tyler.” A collection of his favorite songs, the ones you’d spent months curating, learning the words to, and playing on repeat just to feel a little closer to him.

You had watched him during countless drives, noting which songs made him tap his fingers against the steering wheel, which ones he hummed along to, and—on rare occasions—which ones he’d actually sing under his breath. The playlist was like a map of his soul, each song a clue to who he was beneath the surface.

You pressed play, the first song filtering through the truck’s speakers, a familiar beat that you knew he liked. Your heart raced a little as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he’d notice.

The music filled the space between you, the silence replaced by lyrics you knew by heart—not because they were your favorite songs, but because they were his.

Tyler’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look over, didn’t comment. He just drove, his eyes fixed on the road as if the music were simply background noise.

You shifted in your seat, trying to hide your disappointment. Maybe he hadn’t realized yet. It was still early in the playlist, after all. You tapped your fingers against your knee, silently mouthing the words to the song, hoping that at some point, he’d notice. That he’d realize you weren’t just playing random songs—you were playing his songs. The ones that made him smile or relax, the ones that you knew by heart because of him.

Another song began, this one more upbeat. You couldn’t help but glance at him again, waiting for some kind of reaction—a nod, a hum, anything to show that he recognized the playlist as his own.

But if he noticed, he didn’t let it show. His face remained unreadable, his focus unbroken as the miles ticked by beneath the tires. He was calm, in control, as always.

You felt the familiar pang of disappointment settling in your chest, but you pushed it down, telling yourself not to get your hopes up. Tyler wasn’t the type to express things outwardly. You knew that. You’d known it from the beginning, but still... a part of you had hoped that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

You swallowed the feeling, keeping your gaze out the window, watching the landscape blur past. The music continued, your playlist running through the songs you’d carefully chosen, each one holding a piece of him. You wanted to believe that, at some point, he’d hear it. That he’d realize how much you’d been paying attention all along.

But for now, the road stretched on, and Tyler remained as distant as ever, his silence louder than the music that filled the truck.`

A week later, after a long day of chasing storms, the team had found their way to a small bar on the outskirts of town. The neon lights flickered in the windows, casting a soft glow over the worn-out booths and the dartboard that had seen better days. You followed them inside, but your mind wasn’t on the drinks or the games of pool and darts that the others had already started.

You slipped into a booth in the corner, away from the noise, with your bag slung over your shoulder. From it, you pulled out a book—the book. It was a self-help book you’d noticed Tyler reading last week when he thought no one was watching. You had immediately ordered a copy, telling yourself that it was purely out of interest, but deep down, you knew why. You hoped that if Tyler saw you reading it, he’d think you were smart. Maybe even that you shared the same interests. Maybe he'd even come over and talk to you about it.

The cover felt smooth under your fingers as you opened it, pretending to lose yourself in the words, but really, your eyes kept darting toward the team as they laughed and played darts a few feet away. Tyler stood at the dartboard, one hand gripping a beer, the other lazily aiming for the bullseye. His concentration was unwavering, just as it had been all day on the road, but you couldn’t help but glance his way every few minutes, hoping—wishing—he’d look over and see you.

You settled back against the worn leather of the booth, opening the book to where you’d bookmarked a random page. The words blurred slightly, not because you weren’t capable of understanding them, but because your mind wasn’t truly on the text. Instead, it wandered to the what-ifs, the scenarios where Tyler would walk over, slide into the booth across from you, and ask what you thought of the book. Maybe he’d smile, that rare but breathtaking smile you’d seen a hundred times, and the two of you would actually talk. Not just the usual team banter or logistics about the next chase, but really talk.

But as the minutes passed, the background noise of laughter and clinking glasses felt like a reminder of just how far away that possibility was. Tyler was still over by the dartboard, chatting with Boone as they took turns tossing darts. He hadn’t even glanced in your direction since they’d arrived at the bar.

You tried to focus on the book again, reading the same line twice before finally giving in and glancing at him once more. Nothing. No flicker of recognition that you were there, no acknowledgment of the effort you had put into reading his book, hoping it would make you stand out.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned your elbow on the table, resting your chin in your hand. Maybe you were trying too hard. Maybe all the little things—the playlist, the coffee, the book—were just things he’d never notice. Or maybe, and this thought stung the most, maybe you were invisible to him in that way. A friend. A coworker. But nothing more.

You looked down at the book again, reading a few more lines as if they could somehow distract you from the tight knot forming in your chest.

A few minutes later, Boone called out to you, holding up a pool cue as if inviting you to join their game. You shook your head, waving them off with a small smile, holding up the book as an excuse. Boone shrugged and turned back to Tyler, who was lining up his next throw.

For a split second, Tyler’s eyes flicked toward you. Your heart jumped, but before you could even process it, he threw the dart and turned back to the game as if the moment had never happened.

The diner was warm, the kind of warmth that came from too many bodies crammed into small booths and the lingering scent of coffee and fried food in the air. You sat across from Boone, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone cold, staring blankly at the chipped rim. The conversation around you was a low hum, drowned out by the thoughts racing through your head.

Tyler had left without a word this morning. Just gone. No explanation, no heads-up. Just a quick exchange with Dexter about her—Kate. The girl from Storm Par. The girl who’d seemed to have swept Tyler off his feet in the last two days. You hated to admit it, but the jealousy gnawed at you, each thought of them together, of him abandoning the team, felt like another crack in your resolve.

Boone nudged your arm, drawing you back to the present. “You alright?” His voice was low, concerned, but you just nodded, forcing a smile.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

Across from you, Ben, the British journalist tagging along with the team, was flipping through his notebook, occasionally scribbling something down. You could tell he was enjoying the chaos of American storm chasing, but his eyes kept flicking toward the empty seat next to you, the one Tyler should have been occupying. Everyone had noticed his absence, but no one had said much. Not directly, anyway.

Lily leaned over, her elbow brushing against Dani as they huddled together over their phones. “He’ll call,” Lily said with forced optimism, glancing at you. “Tyler sometimes does this—goes off on his own for a bit. He’ll be back.”

Dexter and Dani nodded in agreement, but Boone wasn’t so convinced. You weren’t either. Tyler wasn’t just gone. He was with her, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Night came, and still no word from Tyler. You’d tried calling him once, your stomach twisted in knots, but there was no answer. No response. You wanted to believe Lily and the others, that he would come back, but every passing hour chipped away at that hope.

The next morning, the skies had shifted. Clouds churned ominously in the distance, the kind of promising sight that normally would have Tyler barking orders and loading up the gear. But today, there was just a quiet, palpable tension as the team stood in the parking lot of the motel, debating whether to head out without him.

“I don’t know,” Boone muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the horizon. “Feels wrong going out without Tyler.”

You felt the same. It felt like a piece of the team was missing, the driving force behind it all, but the skies were waiting. And so was Ben. You glanced at the journalist, who had been watching you closely, eager for the action he’d come all the way from England to document. You couldn’t let his time go to waste.

“We have to go,” you said, your voice steady, even though your insides were anything but. “We’ve got the van and the RV. We can still get some good footage, even without Tyler’s truck.”

The team exchanged glances, unsure. But you stepped forward, taking the lead. “Lily’s drone can get us the close-up shots we need, and we’ve still got the cameras. We can’t afford to wait. We’ve got to keep the channel going, and we need content.”

Dexter raised an eyebrow, impressed by your sudden shift into leadership, but Boone still looked hesitant. “What about Tyler?” he asked, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

You forced a calm you didn’t really feel. “Tyler will catch up with us when he’s ready. Right now, we can’t just sit around. The storm’s not going to wait for us.”

Boone finally nodded, and with that, the decision was made. You piled into the van with Lily and the rest of the crew, leaving behind the uncertainty of where Tyler was, or when he’d come back. Ben hopped in last, his camera at the ready, his excitement barely contained as you pulled out onto the open road.

As you sat in the passenger seat, guiding them toward the brewing storm, a familiar weight settled in your chest. You were used to being the one behind the scenes, managing social media, making sure the team’s content reached the masses. But now, as the makeshift team lead in Tyler’s absence, you couldn’t help but wonder—if he ever did come back, would things ever be the same between you two?

Your fingers hovered over your phone, tempted to try calling him again. But instead, you locked the screen and turned your focus to the skies ahead. You had a team to lead now. Tyler’s absence hurt, but it wasn’t going to stop you.

The morning air hung heavy, thick with the kind of heat that settled into your bones. You were leaning against the side of the van, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to let the frustration bubbling under your skin show. Boone stood beside you, his phone buzzing on the dashboard where he’d tossed it. You both glanced at the screen as Tyler’s name flashed across it.

Boone let it ring, his jaw clenched tight. After a few seconds, it went to voicemail. Neither of you said a word, but the tension between you spoke volumes. Tyler was trying to reach out, but neither of you were ready to hear him out just yet.

Moments later, Lily’s phone chimed. She didn’t hesitate, picking it up and putting it on speaker before Tyler had a chance to duck out. "Hey, Tyler," she greeted, her voice neutral.

"You ready for the next chase?" she asked, her tone deceptively light, but you could hear the undercurrent of curiosity.

But before she could say anything more, Tyler cut her off. “No, we’re gonna need you guys for something.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, and Boone shot you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing in confusion. You mirrored his look. We’ll? What did Tyler mean by that?

Lily pressed, “Do we need to drive all the way to Sapulpa?”

Tyler’s voice was quick to respond. “No, no. We’ll come to you.”

That we echoed in your mind, sinking deeper with each moment of silence that followed. You exchanged another look with Boone, but neither of you said anything. There was an uneasy feeling settling in, but none of you knew exactly what to make of it.

Minutes later, a text from Tyler buzzed through to your phone. You looked down to see the name and address of a trailer company. “What is this?” you muttered, sharing the text with Boone and the others.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Dexter said, climbing into the van with a shrug.

When you arrived at the lot, confusion still lingered in the air as the team climbed out of the van. The parking lot was full of trailers, rows upon rows of them in every size and shape imaginable, glinting under the afternoon sun. The purpose of being here was still unclear.

Then you spotted Tyler’s truck pulling in. The familiar hum of the engine sent your heart rate spiking, but it wasn’t just him that got out.

Kate. She emerged from the passenger side, her face lit up with that same easy smile she’d been wearing ever since the two of them had met.

You felt the knot tighten in your stomach, the same one that had been there since she’d entered the picture two days ago. Dani was the first to break the silence. “You finally made it,” she called, a hint of relief in her voice.

Tyler gave her a smile as he stepped up to the group. “Ben, you stuck around,” he greeted the journalist, shaking his hand as Ben nodded.

“Turns out there’s more to this story than I thought,” Ben said, eyeing Tyler with curiosity.

Tyler grinned. “We got a new ending for you.”

Meanwhile, Dexter raised his hand in a mock salute toward Kate. “Look who it is. City girl.” He shot her a grin that was almost welcoming. Almost.

Lily wasn’t far behind. “What’s up, Kate?” she asked, sounding a little too casual as she strolled over to them.

Kate smiled, sliding easily into conversation with Dexter and Lily like she had been part of the crew all along. You watched as they started chatting about storm footage, Lily showing her clips on her phone from the chase the team had gone on without Tyler and Kate. It wasn’t just that they were talking, though. It was the way Kate’s eyes lit up at the footage, the way she leaned in closer, asking about Lily’s drone.

"Can you rig that drone to collect data?" Kate asked, her interest piqued.

Lily nodded, explaining how Cairo, her drone, worked and all the modifications she’d made. Watching Kate take such an interest in the team felt like watching her slip further into Tyler’s world. A world that, for so long, had felt like yours.

Tyler, meanwhile, was making his way over to Boone, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he began, his voice sincere. "I’m sorry."

Boone didn’t look at him, his jaw set. "Man, you abandoned me," Boone muttered, his voice tight with hurt. "I don’t know nothin’ about no makeup-"

Tyler cut him off with a smirk. “How about we launch some new rockets?”

Boone’s expression shifted, the tension breaking as he perked up. "You said rockets?" His tone was a mix of surprise and cautious excitement.

Tyler nodded, a grin forming. “I did.”

For a moment, it felt like the old Tyler and Boone—the way they always found common ground no matter what. But that still left you.

Tyler turned toward you, taking a few steps in your direction, his face softening. "I’m sorry," he began, but before he could get out anything more, Dani and the salesman walked up.

The apology hung in the air, unfinished, as you stood there, watching him. He hadn’t called you, hadn’t reached out directly. And now, standing in front of you with Kate by his side, the apology felt... hollow.

The van's engine hummed steadily as you followed behind Tyler’s truck, the road stretching endlessly ahead. You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the trailer lot. The silence between you and Lily was thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Outside, the sky was bruised with the remnants of a setting sun, casting long shadows over the landscape. But inside the van, it felt like the world had dimmed.

Your eyes were locked on the truck ahead, on the faint silhouette of Tyler’s head just visible through the back window. You knew Kate was sitting there, right beside him, and the thought twisted in your chest like a knife. You blinked, trying to hold it together, but the tears came anyway, silent and hot as they slid down your cheeks.

Lily glanced over at you, her brows knitting together in concern. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, giving you space. But you could feel her eyes on you, the way she hesitated before speaking.

“Hey…” her voice was soft, cautious. “You okay?”

It was a ridiculous question, really, but it was all she could say. You shook your head slightly, trying to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your jacket, but they kept coming, harder now.

Lily sighed, her hand reaching across the seat to give your arm a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to say it—you both knew. She had been the only one who knew. The only one you had confided in about how you felt about Tyler. She had believed, just like you, that maybe he’d wake up and see what was right in front of him.

But now... now it was clear. He had found someone else. Someone more exciting, more interesting. Someone like Kate.

The tears fell faster, and you pressed your fist to your mouth, trying to keep the sobs at bay. But your mind wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let you escape from the reality of it. Tyler hadn’t just left you behind. He had abandoned you without a second thought, without even realizing how much it hurt. One second he was there, and the next he was gone. Gone like you meant nothing.

And you were left wondering what you’d done wrong. Why you were never enough.

Lily’s voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts. “You know… none of this is your fault, right?”

You let out a shaky breath, but didn’t respond. How could it not be? You must have done something—been something—wrong for him to walk away like that, like you didn’t even matter.

“He’s a fool, you know,” Lily continued, her voice firmer now. “I really thought he’d pull his head out of his ass eventually. Realize what’s right in front of him.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “He never even saw me.”

Lily didn’t argue, and you were grateful for that. Because it was true. Tyler hadn’t seen you—not the way you wanted him to. You had spent so long hoping, waiting for him to notice, to realize that you loved him more than anyone ever could. But he didn’t. He found someone else instead, someone new and shiny like Kate.

Your thoughts spiraled further, the pain gnawing at you from the inside. You could barely breathe through it. God, Tyler couldn’t have cared less about someone who had loved him more. Loved him with everything you had.

“I’d say he broke my heart,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “but I think he broke a lot more than that.”

Lily’s hand was back on your arm, squeezing tighter this time. “You deserved better. You still do.”

You nodded, though it didn’t feel like that right now. All you’d ever wanted was to be enough for him. Just enough to be seen, to be cared for the way you cared for him. But that had been too much to ask.

The miles passed by, the road stretching endlessly ahead, just like this ache inside you. You watched the truck in front of you, the taillights glowing faintly as Tyler drove on, oblivious. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you at all—or if he was too caught up in Kate’s orbit now to even notice the wreckage he’d left behind.

You turned to look at Lily, her eyes full of empathy. “I don’t think I ever stood a chance, did I?” you asked quietly.

Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head softly. “No. I don’t think it was ever about you. He’s just… lost. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

You nodded, feeling that hollow truth settle in your bones. You weren’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he didn’t see you or the realization that you might have been waiting for someone who was never really yours to begin with.

The air was still, thick with the calm before the storm. The team had scattered, gathering near the RV to eat lunch and regroup before they moved on. Laughter echoed from where Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat in lawn chairs, enjoying the brief pause in the chase. Ben, Boone, and Tyler stood near Tyler's truck, their conversation drowned out by the low hum of the wind sweeping across the open field.

But you weren’t with them. You hadn’t been all day.

You sat alone in the van, the door open, your legs pulled up to your chest as you rested your forehead on your knees. Your eyes were closed, trying to block out the ache that had settled deep inside your chest. The tears had dried, but your face still felt tight from the tracks they left behind. You just wanted to disappear, to not feel the way you did.

Tyler’s laughter drifted over from where he stood with the others, and the sound made your heart twist painfully. He had no idea, no clue what was going on inside you.

Until Lily caught his eye.

She saw him glance toward the van, saw him hesitate, his body half-turned as if he wanted to approach but wasn’t sure if he should. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d find out—before your carefully hidden feelings were laid bare. The thought of you sitting there, hurting like this, was eating her alive.

With a deep breath, Lily made the decision. She walked over to where Tyler stood, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Tyler, can we talk for a second?”

He glanced down at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Lily glanced toward you in the van, then back at Tyler. Her voice dropped to a more serious tone. “It’s about her. I think... I think you need to know something.”

Tyler’s expression changed instantly. His eyes followed hers to where you sat, and he felt the weight of her words before she even said them. “What is it?”

Lily sighed. “She’s not just upset about the team. About you leaving. It’s more than that.” She hesitated, then spoke more quietly. “She’s been hurt by you bringing Kate on board. Especially without saying anything.”

Tyler frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “Hurt? Why would—”

“She cares about you, Tyler,” Lily interrupted. “More than you realize.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood there, frozen for a moment, processing what Lily had just told him. “Wait… you mean…?”

Lily nodded. “She’s had feelings for you for a long time. And when you left, it broke her. Then when you came back… with Kate...” Lily trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. The silence said enough.

Tyler felt the weight of it all settling on his shoulders. Guilt gnawed at him, the realization sinking in. He looked back toward you, sitting alone in the van, your back to him.

“Damn…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Lily replied softly. “But now you do.”

Tyler gave her a nod, his jaw clenched as he turned and started walking toward the van. His footsteps were slow, hesitant. The closer he got, the clearer it became—he hadn’t just hurt you by abandoning the team. He’d hurt you far worse without even realizing it.

He stopped halfway to the van, watching you. He could see it now—the tension in your shoulders, the way your head was bowed like you were trying to hold everything inside. It gutted him. But he wasn’t sure if approaching was the right thing to do.

After a moment, he made the choice. He walked the rest of the way to the van, coming to a stop just beside the open door. You didn’t look up at first, didn’t acknowledge his presence. But you knew he was there.

He sat down beside you, careful not to sit too close. The silence between you was thick, heavy with everything unspoken.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler started, his voice low. “For leaving. For abandoning you guys. It wasn’t fair to put all that on you.”

You still didn’t look at him, but he saw the way your hands tightened around your knees.

“I saw the footage,” he continued, trying to offer something, anything that might make it better. “You did great. You really stepped up. Led the team better than I could have.”

You said nothing, just kept your gaze down, the ache in your chest only growing with each word. None of this was what you needed to hear.

Tyler let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look… I talked to Lily. She told me…”

At that, you finally lifted your head, your heart lurching at the sound of those words. She told him. You felt the sting of betrayal—Lily had said too much.

“Tyler, don’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

But he didn’t stop. He needed to say it, needed to acknowledge it. “I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know you felt that way. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

You closed your eyes, your breath shaky as you tried to keep it together. “Please… just don’t.”

But he pressed on, his voice softer now. “I do care about you. I really do. But not in the way you want me to.”

Those words felt like a slap, and you swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again.

“I don’t need your apology,” you finally said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. “I don’t need your pity either.”

Tyler’s brows furrowed. “It’s not pity. I just… I want to make things right.”

You shook your head, letting out a bitter laugh that was more of a sob. “You can’t fix this, Tyler. You can’t just… say you’re sorry and make it all go away.”

He watched you, pain flickering in his eyes. He hated that he had done this to you, hated that his actions had caused you this kind of hurt.

“I never asked for much,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to be enough. Enough for you to notice me. To see me.”

Tyler looked away, guilt settling in his gut like a lead weight. “I’m sorry.”

The words fell flat. Meaningless.

You turned away from him, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that felt so shattered. “It was just a stupid crush anyway,” you muttered, forcing a small, hollow laugh. “I’ll get over it.”

But both of you knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just a crush. It had been so much more than that. And now… now it felt like you had lost something you couldn’t get back.

Tyler sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“There’s nothing you can do,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe there was a chance.”

He stayed silent, not knowing what else to say. He had broken something inside you, and no amount of apologies would fix it.

You wiped your eyes, standing up from the van. “I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, though it was more for yourself than for him.

And with that, you walked away, leaving Tyler sitting there, watching you go, knowing he had lost something he didn’t even realize he had.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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warfaredoll · 2 months ago

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𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘

[𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞] 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Ray finally comes back home but not without bringing along a couple friends. for Tommy this was going to be harder than he expected.

thank u anon for requesting this ‹𝟹 , angst/fluff, my poor sweet Tommy 🥲

The truck came to a stop at the curb, and Ray couldn’t help get out before it was even fully parked. his heart thudded hard against his ribs as he grabbed his duffel, barely glancing over his shoulder at Tommy and Erik who hopped out after him, laughing.

“Man, slow down!” Erick called, jogging to catch up. “She’s not going anywhere”

Tommy chuckled, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “We gotta see if you hyped her up as much as you say.”

Ray just shook his head with a small smile, nerves and excitement in his body as he made his way up the familiar walkway. the late afternoon sun was warm, with the scent of fresh flowers from the garden you loved tending to

inside the house, you were already standing just by the door, peeking through the blinds. you smoothed down the soft, light dress you’d picked the one you knew he loved your fingers fidgeted with the hem your heart hammering just as hard as his.

the knock was barely a tap before you yanked the door open, and there he was Ray, standing tall in front of you, a little dustier, a little scruffier, but so achingly familiar.

“Hey” he said, his voice low and rough from the months apart.

you barely heard him before you were in his arms, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as he lifted you off the ground, holding you like he never wanted to let go. his face was buried in your hair, breathing you in.

“God, I missed you” he murmured against your ear.

you pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, your thumb tracing the curve of his jawline. his eyes were already shining locked onto you.

“I missed you more” you whispered back

a throat cleared behind him, and you blinked, realizing there were two other men.

“Sorry” Ray chuckled, setting you gently back on your feet but keeping an arm wrapped around your waist like he was scared you’d disappear. “baby, this is Tommy and Erick. I couldn’t shut up about you during deployment, so they figured they had to meet you.”

as you opened the door wider and stepped into the sunlight, Erik and Tommy couldn’t help but just stare for a second.

you were even more beautiful than they expected not just in the way Ray had described you, but in the way your lips held that sweet, warm smile, the way the apple of your cheeks held a little pinkness, the soft glow around you like you had been born from one of Ray’s best dreams.

Erik was the first to speak, grinning wide. “Man, Ray really undersold it” he said under his breath, nudging Tommy with an elbow.

Tommy didn’t laugh though. he swallowed hard, guilt creeping up fast and ugly inside him. he remembered too well the long nights during deployment, when Ray would read your letters or look at the pictures you’d sent him, a soft look on his face that none of them ever dared to break. and Tommy, in the privacy of his mind sometimes couldn’t help but think about you too. about how lucky Ray was. about things he shouldn’t have even considered.

now standing in front of you, seeing how kind and sweet you looked, Tommy’s stomach twisted. you weren’t just some comforting thought for him when he felt desperate and alone no, you were real. real, and Ray’s whole world.

you stepped forward offering Erik a big welcoming hug. “It’s so nice to meet you guys” you said warmly.

Erik didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and laughing. “The pleasure’s ours, trust me.”

then you turned to Tommy, who fumbled awkwardly to offer you a stiff handshake trying to be formal, trying to hide the mess of guilt inside him.

but you just smiled, ignoring his outstretched hand and pulled him into a soft hug too.

Tommy froze for a second before awkwardly hugging you back, heart pounding. it wasn’t anything inappropriate, nothing even close but the simple kindness of it, the trust, made him feel ten times worse. like he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.

Ray just laughed, watching from behind you, totally oblivious to what Tommy was feeling inside

“Told you she was the best” Ray said, smiling proudly

you pulled back from Tommy’s hug and tucked yourself naturally against Ray’s side, his arm slipping back around your waist like it belonged there because it did. the two of you fit so perfectly, so effortlessly, it left no room for doubt whatever Tommy might have thought, said, felt during those long, lonely months, and nothing could change that.

“come in” you said sweetly. “you guys must be starving.”

as you led the way, laughing with Erik and teasing Ray about the amount of dust still clinging to his boots, Tommy stayed behind for half a second at the doorstep, staring at where you had just stood.

he shook himself out of it and followed the others in, shoving the guilt down as deep as it would go. he wasn’t going to ruin anything. Ray deserved every bit of happiness coming to him. deserved you.

the kitchen smelled amazing fresh bread, roasted chicken, and something sweet baking in the oven. Erik let out an exaggerated sigh dropping into a chair like he hadn’t eaten in days, while Ray stayed close to you his hand never straying far from your waist or the small of your back.

you laughed as you set down a tray of lemonade and plates, glancing up at Ray every so often like you couldn’t believe he was really here.

Tommy watched it all quietly, sitting at the edge of the dining table.

there was something so pure between you two, the kind of love that didn’t need words. it was in the way Ray looked at you like you were everything. the way you leaned into his touch without even thinking about it. little things. subtle. small enough for him to notice.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, guilt prickling hot under his skin

he should have been happy.. hell, he was happy for Ray but there was a weight sitting heavy on his chest. a small ache he hadn’t expected to feel seeing you both together like this.

the stupid, selfish fantasy he’d entertained that night. picturing what it would be like for you to be his, those memories burned now. shame curled in the pit of his gut every time you smiled up at Ray, every time Ray’s voice dropped a little softer just for you.

it was never going to be you and him. it was always you and Ray.

and seeing it in person, watching it unfold right in front of him, hurt in a way Tommy couldn’t even name.

he stabbed his fork into his food without tasting it.

“You okay, Tommy?” you asked, noticing he wasn’t really there

Tommy startled quickly forcing a tight smile. “yeah. sorry. long day.”

you gave him a warm, understanding smile no judgment, just kindness and it only made the knot in his chest tighten. he didn’t deserve your kindness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

Ray was watching him too now, frowning a little. “you sure, man?”

Tommy nodded quickly, “yeah, yeah. don’t worry about me. you two just… enjoy this. you deserve it.”

the words tasted dry in his mouth, but they were the truth.

you reached for Ray’s hand under the table, and Ray immediately laced your fingers together without even glancing down, like it was second nature.

Tommy dropped his gaze to his plate, swallowing the bitter lump in his throat.

he’d made it through worse, he reminded himself. he’d survived the worst war of his life. he’d survive this too.

the sun began setting behind the trees, you and Ray sat close together on the couch, your legs tucked up beneath you, his arm thrown lazily around your shoulders like he couldn’t bear to let go. Erik sprawled across the armchair, a glass of lemonade in hand, while Tommy sat on the floor near the coffee table picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

the conversation turned easy full of laughter and half remembered stories from their time spent in Iraq.

“Man” Erik said, grinning around the rim of his glass “you should’ve seen baby Ray out there.”

you blinked, then turned to look up at Ray with wide amused eyes. “baby Ray?”

Ray groaned, dropping his head back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. “no. no, no, no- don’t start.”

Erik just laughed harder as he leaned more forward. “baby Ray here? was the youngest member of our platoon. youngest JTAC i’ve worked with, the best communicator I know though.”

you clapped a hand over your mouth, giggling. “baby Ray? that was your nickname? you never told me!”

Ray lifted his head just a little to give Erik a nod and smile

even Tommy cracked a small, real smile at the sight. there was no ignoring how the room was full of genuine love between friends who had been through hell and back together.

you snuggled closer to Ray, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I think it’s cute” you whispered.

Ray’s face softened immediately, and he bent to kiss your forehead. “course you do.”

Tommy watched, the familiar tightness creeping back into his chest but this time, it wasn’t sharp or an ache it was almost… bittersweet.

there was no room for anyone else between you two. no space where he could even pretend. you weren’t a fantasy. you weren’t an escape. you were Ray’s. and somehow seeing that.. seeing Ray so at peace, so at home made the ache settle

after a while, you excused yourself to the kitchen to grab some dessert and Ray immediately got up to follow you

Tommy watched you both disappear around the corner. heard the low murmur of Ray’s voice, the soft private laugh you gave him in return. he looked down at his hands for a long moment

“you okay, man?” Erik asked, quietly this time

Tommy forced a small smile. “Yeah. just… tired.”

Erik didn’t press. just clapped him on the back in a way that said I get it, even if he didn’t know all the details.

in the kitchen, Ray leaned down to kiss you again, just because he could, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“missed this” he murmured against your skin. “missed you.”

you smiled up at him, all soft and glowing and his. “I missed you more Ray” you whispered back.

Tommy turned his gaze away, giving you both your private, intimate moment, feeling both the weight of loss and the strange unexpected feeling of warmth.

later that night, after dessert everyone had slipped into that lazy, happy haze that comes from full bellies and full hearts, the four of you ended up outside on the back porch.

the air was cool, the stars just beginning to appear in the sky, and someone had found an old speaker music played softly

you sat on Ray’s lap his arms wrapped tight around your waist, your head resting comfortably against his chest. Erik was leaning back on the porch steps arms stretched out behind him lazily naming constellations he was almost certainly getting wrong

Tommy sat on one of the porch chairs, an unopened beer resting on his knee just… watching.

and for the first time all day, the guilt that had clung to him began falling away piece by piece.

he could feel it the warmth, the love, the pure peace hanging in the air. no wars to fight. just friends. family, in a way. laughter. a soft night and the smell of your garden

and you so warm, so full of life shooting him a genuine smile when you caught him looking your way, one that asked nothing of him except to enjoy this moment.

so Tommy did.

he cracked open the beer, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair with a deep breath feeling something something good settle in his chest

Erik, already tired threw a hand up lazily and said, “Hey, baby Ray remember that time we caught you sneaking off at night?”

Ray groaned loudly, dropping his head back against the porch railing he knew Erik was talking about the nights he thought no one else noticed when he’d disappear for a few minutes with your letters.

“Ray!” you gasped

Ray muttered something under his breath that sounded like “it was for morale” which only made Erik and Tommy both lose it laughing.

“I thought Erik was going to kill you on the spot” Tommy added, finally letting himself relax fully his grin wide and real.

you wiped at your eyes, giggling so hard you leaned against Ray for support. “can’t believe you would do that.”

Ray squeezed you tighter, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “of course.”

“I love you.” you whispered, still giggling.

Tommy smiled, letting the sound of your laughter and Erik’s teasing wash over him warmly

in this moment, he realized he had friends, family. a home.

even if it wasn’t exactly the home he’d once daydreamed about, it was enough.

the night stretched on filled with more bad jokes and good music. until finally, Erik fell asleep sitting upright snoring softly, and you and Ray were swaying gently to a song only you two seemed to know.

Tommy tilted his head back, staring up at the endless star filled sky, and for the first time in a long time he let himself just be. no regrets, just peace, just this.

MY HEART TOMMY BABYY 🥲🥲 was listening to mac demarco while writing this 🙂‍↕️ anddd finally started working on request love yall’s ideas 😩

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

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cowboysandcigarettes · 5 months ago

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✮ BORN TO DIE

─ dw x fem!reader

cw! angst, blood, break ups, fighting, mentions of death, slight religious aspects

dean didn't think. he didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't even take his eyes off the road as he sped the impala down the highway, fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel. he hadn't taken his foot off the gas since he got in the car, not since he heard your voicemail, and he only stepped on it harder when bobby called.

the shakiness of your voice haunted him, the spluttering laugh that turned into a gut wrenching coughing fit echoed like a broken record in his head, only making him push the speed limit harder. bobby's voice had been calm, but dean could hear the undertone of panic in the old man's voice that reflected his own.

so dean drove as fast as he could without burning baby's tires, his heart in his throat as your last confession rang in his ears.

i'm just sorry i wont get to tell you i love you one last time.

it was dean's birthday, of all days─not that he ever really celebrated it. in fact sam had been out grabbing pie and a case of beers for the two of them, when dean had finally checked his phone after being caught up in a shifter case all day, his heart dropping as he saw you had left him a voicemail.

he knew you wouldn't call unless something was seriously wrong, you had told him as much the last time you called, which was mostly telling him to stop drunk calling you. so his hands had shaken as he lifted the phone to his ear, his whole body freezing as your weak voice and self proclaimed last words were spoken through the phone.

it was by some miracle that bobby's call came just as your voicemail had finished, because only god knows what he would have done if he had been left to his own devices after possibly listening to you die in a voicemail. a fucking voicemail.

the only thing that stopped dean from going insane was bobby telling him that he had you, that he thinks you're stable, but he can't be sure, and he thinks dean is gonna want to see you.

so he didn't hesitate, not for a second, to throw his jacket on and grab his keys, only leaving sam a curt note about where he was going. thankfully, they weren't too far from bobby's place in sioux falls, having just come from a pit stop there themselves, so the only thing dean had to focus on was remembering the exit to take in a few miles.

as he drove though, he thought about you. he didn't want to think about your weak, shortening breaths that could be heard through the speaker of the phone, or the spluttering of blood from your mouth that he heard when you had coughed, so he focused on the last time he saw you.

you were beautiful. even when you were angry, especially when you were angry, like you were then, you were beautiful. and although his own anger simmered under his skin, he found himself lost in the way your lips moved as you spoke, and how the dim lighting of the motel room you were staying in cast a glow over you that formed a halo around your head, making you look angelic.

dean hated angels, he really did. and ever since finding out what brainless dicks they really were a few years ago, he doesn't like to compare things to them, but you. oh, you. dean thought that if he went back to the first days of existence and asked anyone what they thought an angel was, they would draw a picture of you.

you, with your eyes narrowed and lips pursed, shoulders tensed as you yelled at him, calling him overbearing and accusing him of not trusting you. god, he had wanted to kiss you so bad. he knew he could, you'd said before with a giggle that you loved when he shut you up by kissing you, but he'd figured in that moment that he wasn't allowed to do that.

it was only when you suggested that maybe things weren't going to work out anymore that he snapped out of it.

"what?" he had asked, heart dropping to his stomach as his eyes went wide. "what the hell are you talking about? we just need to talk it out."

"that's the problem, dean," you had argued, and dean had never hated himself more than when he saw the tears welling in your breath taking eyes. "we always say we're gonna talk it out, but we never do. it ends with us in the sheets, and just builds until we fight again, because you're too afraid to face your goddamn feelings!"

that had snapped something in dean, the accusation hitting right on the money as the natural instinct to push you away bubbled to the surface, rearing it's ugly head. "oh, i'm too scared?" he had spat, taking a step closer to you. "well, sweetheart, you're the one who is so incompetent that i have to save your ass every goddamn time!"

every second of every day since that moment, he wished he could take that back. he had said a lot of things during your relationship, but the one thing that he never insulted was your ability as a hunter. that was something that you just never did. and he knew he fucked up as soon as he had seen your face fall, tears welling so thickly in your hurt eyes that he hadn't been sure you could still see.

"is that how you feel?" you had asked, your voice small and breaking slightly.

dean had swallowed, trying to force down the self sabotaging words that were crawling up his throat, but they spilled out before he could stop them. "yeah. it is."

you had just looked at him with a searing hurt in your eyes that had burned a hole in his weeping heart, a tear finally slipping down your flushed cheek. "well, if that's really how you feel, then maybe i should just leave."

his bleeding heart had begged, cried, and screamed for him to take it back, to grab you in his arms and hold you until you stopped crying, for him to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness until his bones ached and you smiled at him again.

but he didn't.

he just looked away from you, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he fought off tears of his own and muttered through gritted teeth, "maybe you should."

dean hadn't looked at you, but he had felt the weight of your stare as it burned through his bones. he still hadn't looked at you when you had muttered a broken, "fine", and walked over to the bed, and threw your stuff into your beat up duffle bag without a word.

you had stormed past him, your shoulder brushing his, but dean didn't stop you as you reached for the door. he only turned to face you when he heard you stop, forcing himself to keep a stoic expression, even as his aching mind, soul, and body begged him to grab you and not let you leave.

you had turned to face him then, your hand lingering on the doorknob, and he thinks a piece of his soul was chipped away when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

dean had never used the term devastatingly beautiful, but that's what you had been then. because although the pain he had caused you was written on the features he cherished so much, tears dragging your makeup down your face, you still looked beautiful. devastatingly beautiful.

and even though the next words you had spoken had torn him into pieces, the beauty of you, inside and out, never left his rotten mind.

"i wish it wasn't so easy to love you."

dean snaps out of it as a mile sign whizzes by, and his vacant eyes flick to the speedometer to see that he's doing about twenty over the speed limit. he doesn't care though, all he cares about is that your heart is still beating. whether it's for him or not.

dean bursts into bobby's house, not bothering to knock as he rushes in, slamming the door behind him.

"bobby?" he calls out, trying to keep his voice level as no answer comes. "damnit, bobby, where are you?"

he's about to completely tear the place down when there's a rustling followed by heavy footsteps and a familiar voice. "don't blow the house down, boy, i'm right here."

bobby comes around the corner, into the hallway, and though usually there's a comfort in seeing the man dean considers a father figure, this time there's still an aching panic in his chest.

"where is she? is she okay? what happ-" dean cuts himself off as his eyes drift down to bobby's hands, which are covered in blood. your blood. "oh god.."

the old man seems to notice the look of pure terror on dean's face, and follows his gaze down to his hands, sighing at the sight of the blood.

"she's okay, dean," bobby tells him, taking a step towards him, and dean thinks he might be shaking. "there was a moment where-" he cuts himself off, looking away for a moment, as if debating what to say before he meets dean's gaze again. "there was a moment where i thought she wasn't, but she pulled through. she's okay now."

the moment the sincerity and truth of bobby's words rang through dean's head, he felt like he could finally breathe again. he let's out a deep exhale, wobbling slightly on his feet as he runs a hand over his face, cursing to himself softly.

after he takes a second to collect himself and calm his racing heart, he looks up at bobby, brow furrowed as he swallows down the suffocating panic. "can...can i see her?"

the old man hesitates, a protective edge in his eyes that makes dean realize that you probably told him everything. he watches as bobby thinks it over, before the old man sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly as he nods.

"yeah..you can see her," bobby agrees, but as dean takes a step forward, he holds up his hand, stopping dean in his tracks with a pointed look. "but i'm not so sure she's gonna want you there when she wakes up, kid. so if she opens her eyes and freaks out when she sees you, then y're gonna have to leave."

that chips another piece of dean's heart away, the fragment falling further into the pit of self despair that has been building in dean's chest since he hurt you and let you walk away from him.

"please, bobby," he rasps, his voice breaking slightly as emotions blur in his head. "i just need to see her. i...i just need to see she's okay."

the old man looks slightly shocked at the desperation in dean's voice, and something softens in his gaze. "she's been through a lot, boy," he sighs, giving dean a pointed look, though this time it's less menacing. "and i love you like my own, but right now she's my priority and if you being here is gonna stop her from healin', then i'm sorry dean, but y'cant stay."

dean nods, forcing himself to swallow the lump in his throat that threatens to choke him. "i don't wanna hurt her," he responds, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. "not more then i already have. i just- she called me, and hearin' her on the phone like that? thinkin' that might be the last time i ever hear her voice, on a fucking voicemail?"

he cuts himself off, averting his eyes from bobby as he forces the tears that burn behind his eyes to stay hidden. "i need to see her, bobby. please."

there's a moment of silence, and when dean lifts his eyes, bobby is staring right back at him, his expression slightly shocked at the rare display of emotions from him. but after a moment, the old man nods, stepping back and gesturing for dean to follow him.

at first he just stands there, but then he's rushing after bobby, each step determined but shaky as he follows the man into the main room.

dean's eyes scan the room, frantically searching for you, and when he finally does, he freezes.

you're laying on the couch, eyes closed and so pale. your skin is void of almost all of its usual color, your cheeks sunken and your lips chapped and sullen. the only thing keeping dean from passing out or falling to his knees in front of you and praying until you wake up is the shaky rise and fall of your chest that he can see under the blanket that bobby's placed over you.

said man places a comforting hand on dean's shoulder, but dean doesn't turn around, even as he hears bobby's footsteps echo down the hallway. he can't move his eyes from you, scared that if he does, you'll somehow slip from his grasp again.

he takes a couple hesitant steps closer and something curls in his gut, gripping his heart and wrenching it until it bleeds as he lets his eyes roam over your face. your familiar features are pale and sullen, but still, dean can't think of anything he's ever seen that's more beautiful than you.

devastatingly beautiful. that term pops into his head again, and this time, the words stab at something deep inside him, something he's always been too afraid to name.

because you are. and it's not just your features─though dean swears you could power a whole city just from smiling, the way it lights up your face─it's your mind, your soul, the way you laugh, the softness of your voice. it's everything. it's you.

you are devastatingly beautiful because you devastate him, crashing your way into his heart over and over again, making him high off you, making him never want to come down.

dean has to remind himself to breathe as he tentatively walks over to where you're laying, exhaling shakily before falling to his knees on the floor in front of you as if he was sitting in front of an altar, about to worship.

his now teary eyes scan over you, and before he can stop himself, he reaches a shaky hand out and brushes some of your hair out of your face.

lightning strikes through him as his skin touches yours, and he fights the urge to pull back, letting his fingertips lightly trace your cheek before his hand drifts down, finding your own and intertwining your fingers.

when he doesn't feel the familiar squeeze back of your hand, something in him breaks.

his head drops to your shoulder, his body shaking as quiet sobs tear from his chest, his teats staining the flannel you wore, his face buried into the fabric.

"i'm sorry,” he rasps through sobs, turning his head into your shoulder, burrowing into the skin of your neck, nausea creeping up his throat when he doesn’t feel your familiar warmth. he presses his lips against your skin, unable to stop the million apologies that spill from his lips. “i’m sorry, sweetheart, i'm so sorry. i love you, i’m sorry. ’m sorry, im so sorry.”

dean stays there, head pressed against you, sobbing quietly into your skin as he clings to you, praying to anyone that would listen that you would wake up. that you would come back to him and he could hold you in his arms and sob a million more apologies into your skin until you forgave him, even if he didn't deserve it.

he needed you to come back to him. he needed your touch, your kiss, your laughter, your stupid jokes that always made him laugh, your whispered words, and your loving stare.

he needed you.

and in that moment dean decided that when you woke up─not if, because he didn't know what he would do if he let himself think about that─he would try his damn hardest to get you back, because even though he doesn't think he deserves happiness, he knew he had it with you.

when you left, and took that piece of him with you, he broke. and all he wanted was to let you fix him again.

but you couldn't. because even as dean cried against you, you didn't stir, didn't flinch, the only reason he knew you were still hanging on was the shallow rise and fall of your chest under where his hand, intertwined with yours was rested firmly, and dean didn't know if he'd ever get that happiness back.

and as he sat there with you, at the foot of the altar he would give his all just to be worthy enough to worship, all he could think about was how he was begging for whatever God or being was listening that if they took you from him, they better fucking take him too.

because even if you hated him, even if you cursed him out, screamed at him to never talk to you again, dean didn't want to live in this world if you weren't in it.

bri's thoughts!: okay so this took me kinda long to finish, and was lowkey supposed to be out for my baby's birthday, but oh well. i don't rlly know if i like this, but i already started a part two, so lmk if anybody wants that! also my first time writing from dean's perspective and like angst so i apologize if this is bad, but i hope u enjoyed! (ps this is not proofread, and as always, was written at 1am, so this might be bad..)

TAGS!: (i don't rlly have a taglist so i just tagged some of my mutuals, but lmk if u wanna be added or removed) @ultravi0lence14 @bluemerakis @titsout4jackles @floralscented @soldiersgirl

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ foolinthera1n #bri writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #angst

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bernardsbendystraws · 1 year ago

Text

Pink Petals

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

See pinned post for (series) masterlist and (oneshots) masterlist and more.

Summary: Chris had a past with a few girls who had left him burned. Y/n had succumbed to the utter tragedy of giving up on her high school sweetheart a while ago. Chris walks into Y/n’s flower shop, searching for a bouquet of flowers for a girl. A blind date takes the lovelorn pair into fate’s hands. Chris isn’t holding back his true colors anymore. He’s a true romantic. Handwritten letters, cheesy compliments…and maybe some flowers.

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, mentions of SA, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post.

With love and big tits, Rose.

Part Four: A Pink Glow.

I loved animals. I really did. But, seeing how much Chris loved animals? It somehow made me love them even more.

“--this dude all like omg! I gotta–” he says.

His voice brushes his breath against my ear as we stare at the aquarium glass. He mocks the small fish with a high-pitched voice.

Any other man I had given a chance would’ve had a visceral reaction from me at the immaturity.

Not Chris though.

With him, I found myself struggling to contain my laughter to a respectable volume in the near dead silent building. It was genuine joy watching him match the voices to each fish. It also happened to be incredibly accurate, which I found endearing.

“Chris–”

Chris turns to me, but his eyes fall behind my shoulder with a subtle drop of his smile. I feel my face furrow with confusion as he replaces the sullen expression with a performed tug of his lips.

“Hi! Oh my god, could we get a picture?”

The unknown voice alerts me as I whip around to see a young girl, no older than 14. A middle aged woman stands behind her, phone in hand and ready to take a picture. I quickly side step, watching as Chris interacts briefly with the girl.

“Are Matt and Nick here too?” she quips.

“Oh, uh,” Chris stammers, pausing as the flash shoots from the phone camera. “--it’s just me, actually.” he finishes.

The girl's face falls slightly before nodding and walking off with her mother. Chris sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “I…sorry. It’s a little awkward, I know.” he says.

As he looks up to me, my heart softens from the confusing tension of the encounter. There are subtle lines of embarrassment written in the purse of his lips as his eyes struggle to stay on mine. Walking back forward and placing a hand on his shoulder, I lean into him. I feel his stance soften.

“It’s okay, just part of your job.” I mention.

I feel him lightly rest his head on top of mine, the slight nod apparent. A moment of silence washes over us, the fond silence interrupted with an uncertain energy.

“Oh my god! Look!” Chris exclaims.

He shoots straight up, standing tall before mindlessly grabbing my hand and tugging me along behind him. I giggle while echoing his footsteps with my own. I frown, noticing the exit on the side after the glass he tugs me towards.

“Oh my! Those are so sick!” he says.

Moving my gaze back towards the exhibit, my eyes go wide. Neon jellyfish flounder in the tank, a pink glow illuminating from the creatures and through the glass. The thoughts run still in my mind as I immerse myself in the moment.

“That’s so pretty, my god.” I announce.

Chris’s head whips over his shoulder, looking down at me with a teasing smile.

“Yeah?” he playfully asks.

I shake my head while leaning myself to rest on his shoulder. The squeeze of his hand pulls me closer, my body weight following the direction of his movements. Seconds pass as the clogged air conditioning of the building suddenly seems to shift, bringing me a sense of fresh air in my lungs. Tilting my head along his shoulder, I see the peep of his face already trying to look down at me with the odd angle.

“Whatcha thinking gorgeous?” he asks.

Letting my emotions get the best of me, my hand squeezes his with excitement which earns a slight chuckle from his end. My flushed cheek on his shoulder lifts as I look towards the exit.

I want to tell him how I feel.

“I…” the statement lingers on my tongue as my eyes dart back to him. The pink and purple hues reflecting on his features brings sudden comfort. His eyes are trained on me, even with the enticing foreign animals displayed in front of us. “I’m sad it’s over, to be honest.” I admit in a hushed tone.

Chris’s smile grows with an impossible effort of joy. “It doesn’t have to be. In fact…I was, um…I was kinda hoping you’d say that.” he confesses.

His mouth shuts tightly. The inner part of his bottom lips starting to turn white as he sucks on it with a blush covering his face.

I let my shoulder nudge into him playfully. The anxiety leaves my system from the courageous effort of getting the truth to pour from my lips. A sense of proudness leaves me more confident than before.

Could I do it again?

“It’s really hot and I didn’t plan anything else, but we can look and cool off the car at the same time. I just, I don’t want you to be miserable in the heat.” he explains looking down at me.

I take a quick glance at the mesmerizing aquatic scene in the tank. Letting my eyes drift back to his, I nervously click my tongue along the ridges of my teeth. Chris meets my gaze with a soft endearment that calms the pulsing vibration in my ears. “I…” I trail off, becoming uncertain of my words.

My eyes drop to his chest. I swallow thickly, retracing to the same anxious thoughts that left my lips feeling stapled together.

The warm clasp of his fingers intertwined with mine pulls me to look back up at him.

“What is it, pretty girl? Do you have something you wanna do?” he interrogates playfully.

Losing my thoughts in the depths of his analyzing gaze, I nod affirmatively. “Yeah, I have a puzzle at home and air conditioning if you want.” I offer.

As my lips fall back shut, my mind starts to cloud with the inconclusive thoughts.

I just invited him to my home. For fucking puzzles.

Retracting back into myself, I lose my breath with the lack of concentration.

“--go? Hello?” Chris asks.

I snap out of the dazed trance, panically looking up at him with bulging eyes. He shakes his head, turning to me as our chests stand inches away from each other. I open my mouth to say something, but fall silent as he does the same.

“Zoned out for a minute there?” I nod at his question as he purses his lips knowingly. “--it’s okay, I do that sometimes too. I said that’s perfect and are you ready to go?” he says.

“I, um, yeah,” he starts pulling me towards the direction of the door. He pushes the heavy gray door open, holding it open with his foot and his right hand as his left hand stays clasped in mine.

I clung onto him tighter out of instinct as a raccoon darted across the trash can just to the side of the exit door. Hearing the commotion, Chris yanks me quickly to his side. I nearly collapse onto him from the gesture, but he catches my weight by releasing my hand and wrapping it around my waist.

Breathlessly, we both look from the trash panda and our eyes meet, squinting as laughter bubbles through the intoxicatingly hot air.

I don’t know if it was the sudden change of temperature, the shock of the animal nesting, or the look he gave me, but I was in a state of blissful adrenaline that made every color a little brighter.

Maybe it was how he made me feel.

Coming down to a fit of breathless giggles, Chris pulls me gently by the waist as our steps clamber towards his car.

Settling into a comfortable position sitting in front of the coffee table on my floor hadn’t been difficult at all. Soft background noise seemed to fade out of hearing as I focused on his voice only.

“I really like monkeys. I…I still have a monkey stuffed animal on my bed.” he admits sheepishly.

I smile, prodding my tongue to the side of my mouth as I unbox the puzzle. Dumping the pieces on the table, I start flipping them so the design and colored piece faces upwards.

“Really?” I press, looking over at Chris.

Giving me a firm nod, he reaches out and starts helping. One by one, each piece reveals a shade of the design colors plastered on the packaging of the box.

“Yeah…” he trails off.

Grinning and licking over my lips, I nudge my shoulder into his playfully.

“I still got a stuffed animal too. It’s honestly a green flag in my opinion, don’t worry.” I state.

Chris chuckles dryly, his eyebrows flexing upward as he mumbles beneath his breath, “Good.”

Letting ourselves envelope deeper into the conversation, he starts explaining the history behind his monkey obsession. I frown as he stutters over the details of a house fire he had experienced. We both move pieces around, plucking the border puzzle scraps into place and sticking them together.

“I, I just kinda wish I saved Bobo, I guess.” he moves his piece into the puzzle shape I had been holding down. The pieces fit, sliding in perfectly to create a matching shade that fades from different vibrance of blue hues.

My cheeks flex upwards as I give him a pout-like smile full of sympathy. “That’s sweet, though. It’s good to care about things.” I point out.

Chris sits up taller at my statement, gaining a steady grip as he lets his hand graze my knee before darting up on the table again. He hums with a slight affirmation found in the tone of the noise.

“Tell me more. I... I really like hearing you talk.” I say shyly.

Chris gives me a quick glance with a grin. Letting his hand shift onto the ground to support his weight, he leans over. His lips graze my ear through the locks of hair treading down over my shoulder. My pulse throbs in my ears as I swallow thickly with wide eyes.

“I wanna hear you talk too, sweetheart.” he says.

Pulling back, he starts working on the puzzle as if the tension gained from the action didn’t exist. I stay in place, the thick air suffocating me with a fervent warmth. Chris turns over his shoulder, laughing at me as he witnesses my expression of shock along with blushed cheeks.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you nervous.” he laughs.

His right hand stays shifting the various puzzle components on the table as his other falls down to my calf, squeezing with reassurance.

“Wanna hear about the dumbest shit Nick, Matt, and I did as kids?” he asks.

Nodding my head quickly, he lets out a laugh before starting to think.

“Ummm…” his hand on my calf grabs slightly, shaking with excitement as he lets out a noise of realization. “Oh! You’re gonna love this one. One time, when we first started YouTube, I let them wax my legs–”

Bursting out in laughter, Chris looks at me with a knowing nod.

“I fucking knew that would make you laugh.” he exclaims.

I lean forward to the table, trying to calm my laughs to no avail. “I–” letting out a fit of giggles, his hand pats on my leg as he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “--’m sorry!” I pronounce.

Holding back the laughter, I bite the inside of my lip roughly. Chris whips his head around to face me. My eyes go wide as I see his hand reach upward out of the corner of my eye. I feel his hand caress lightly against the side of my cheek. His thumb gently rests on top of my bottom lip before pressing down and pulling downward.

“Don’t be sorry,” my lips part as I let myself drown in his eyes. “--I wanted to make you laugh...” he says.

My lips form into a tight-lined smile as he lets his hand fall down my arm, squeezing at my thigh before resting back up and onto the table.

“As I was saying though,” he starts.

I listen intently as he goes into the details of the memory. The admiration floods my chest watching him reminisce on the previous chaos with his loved ones.

Maybe we could have memories like that one day.

The smile stitched on my face was becoming painful. My TV had been turned down from the random show we had picked out. I sat criss-cross beside Chris with my knee under his hand as he leaned over the coffee table, his tongue prodding from the corner of his mouth as he focused on the puzzle pieces in front of him.

“You know,” he places a piece to complete the border of the rectangular structure, “--I haven’t really ever done a puzzle. I thought they were boring, but–,”

My panicked eyes trace up to his as I open my mouth to apologize. His hand squeezes tighter around my knee, a soft laugh escaping his throat.

“But,” he repeats. “--this is really fun. I don’t know if it’s the cat puzzle or you, but…but, I’m having a lot of fun.” he says.

My lips fall closed, subtly forming into a pout laced with adoration from the sickly sweet confession. I let my hand wander down from the table. With a soft weight, I rest my palm on top of his hand on my knee. Giving him a smile of endearment, his eyes seem to soften while searching between mine.

“I…”

Say it.

I swallow thickly. The words stumble through my mind, seemingly tripping through a thick forest of doubt and uncertainty.

I can do it.

Say it.

“I…I am too. Puzzle or not, I’m just, I’m really glad to be here with you, Chris.” I whisper through a heavy breath.

His lips tighten into a thin line before his head whips around, nudging his neck to gesture toward the couch behind us. I follow his gaze, understanding the wordless notion.

I stand up and quickly seat myself on the couch. Chris follows, the both of us sitting semi-stiffly. I adjust my position. Throwing my legs underneath myself, I turn my body in towards him.

“I…” Chris' words fall inconclusively, yet my mind seems to understand him from the way his eyes admire my lips with a subtle desire whispering from his parted lips.

Leaning forward, I cup my hand underneath his jaw swiftly. I plant my lips onto his. A soft sensation of the delicate muscles tangled together brings me propping my feet up to rest on my ankles, desperately wanting to be closer.

Chris pulls back softly. Our eyes meet with a vanishing secrecy of thoughts that lay unspoken. I feel the cold fingertips of his hands search onto my body. Pulling my chest onto his by swarming his hands around my waist, his lips meet mine once more.

Movements exchanged are different from the last. His lips gathered every ounce of imagination, pouring a child-like excitement as he chased me closer with his mouth. I let my teeth graze on his bottom lip. Hearing a soft groan from him vibrate against my mouth sends a greedy desire for more. Helplessly succumbing to the thoughts urging for more of him, I tangle my hand to the back of his neck and pull him impossibly closer.

The kiss melted me with passion as I felt him grabbing the underside of my left thigh and pulling me onto his lap. The heat drifting from our bodies had my mind looping in circles. I could focus on nothing but him and how good it felt. His lips showed me passion and need. The lava of euphoria was met with a cooling sensation of softness buried between the tips of his tracing fingers along my sides.

My clothes clung to my skin and shuffled reverently with the movement of muscles contracting and pulsing with excitement. The roughness of his cold fingers trailed upward, cupping my face and brushing my hair back as he leaned back onto the sofa cushion comfortably.

Out of breath, we shared the prayer of silence with heaving chests and racing heartbeats. His hands fell onto my hips, resting with a secure grasp. I found myself leading my hands up from his shoulders and combing through his hair.

“Mmmm.”

The hum of content vibrating from his lips sent my stomach into a fluttering frenzy of endearment. The heat had settled into a warmth with the safe velvet touch of a silk blanket and a cool pillow that fit perfectly to my face.

I lean forward, unable to abstain myself from pressing my lips on the side of his neck. The exposed skin meets my mouth with a subtle rough texture of shaved facial hair. Hearing the noise grumble and vibrate from the back of his mouth and down his neck made me nearly shutter.

I was making him feel good.

The noise had described it to me just as much as his tightening grip on either side of my hips. Wanting to hear it again, I leave an open-mouthed kiss higher and more towards his ear.

A sharp intake of breath sounding from him leaves me grinning as I graze my tongue along the area. He lets out a shaky exhale, his grip on my hips shifting me back seemingly.

Noticing the hesitation in his actions, I break the kiss, giving him a questioning look.

“I…” he starts, his eyes darting to the side and avoiding my gaze.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want this?” I ask.

My ego falters, quickly assuming the worst as I try to shift myself out from his lap. His hands stay plastered on my hips, a sigh from his lips gaining my attention.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I want this, trust me—I really want this. But,” letting out a heavy breath and tossing his head back, I quickly retract my hands into a nervous pile in front of my stomach, shrinking into myself.

“It’s, it’s…it’s not you. I swear, nothing about you makes me not want this.” he explains.

With a sullen expression seeping through the blank facade on my face, I see his head straighten and his eyes land on mine. He observes the state of distress written in the lines between my eyebrows. I feel his hands drop from my hips, my gut pivoting with disappointment as I hold back a quivering breath. My eyes drop to my hands fiddling against my stomach.

“Hey,” Chris bends down, catching my glance as he looks up at me with a distressed appearance. The soft pads of his fingers trace down my forearms. He clasps my hands apart from each other, holding them in his own.

He slowly sits back up straight, tugging my hands against his own stomach as he lets his grip soften. “I–I want you. I do. I just–”

I look away from him, staring at the arm of the sofa. His hands pull mine upwards, I hear the pucker of a kiss as his lips greet the backs of my hands sweetly.

“Can you look at me? I want to explain.” he states.

I shrug, biting on my tongue.

“I…” I drift off, feeling the kisses from his warm lips gently placing themselves all over my hands. “I don’t know, Chris. You’re confusing me. You say you want me, but you obviously don’t, I mean–what am I supposed to think?” I stammer.

Hearing a hushed sigh, I look back to see him glancing down at my hands. Detecting the movement, his eyes drift up to meet my face with a slight frown.

“I don’t want to rush things, okay? I…” his head whips to the side as he scrunches his face up with a disgruntled breath heaving from his chest, “--I really like you. I want you. I don’t mean just sex, though. I…”

My heart softens listening to his confession. I let my hands rub over his own encouragingly with a reassuring tug of my lips forming as he looks back at me.

“I really like you too, Chris. I, can you just explain? I just, I’m jumping to a million conclusions in my own head and I—I just…I’m lost.” I ramble.

He sucks in his lips, nodding before his chest rises with a deep breath.

“I, I’m not used to this. I…I’ve never even actually had a girlfriend,” he sees my eyes widen, his cheeks tugging up awkwardly, “I don’t know what I’m doing and I guess…I guess I just don’t wanna mess it all up?” he says, his voice raising in pitch as if he was asking a question.

Pouting at the vulnerability of his stature, I take one of my hands out of his grasp. I let my finger sway back and forth on his lower cheek as I cup my hand beneath his jaw.

Looking back and forth between both of his piercing blue eyes that seemed to have a layer of glass, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Chris,” I breathe out, “I…that’s okay.” I assure him.

The distress printed on his face seems to relax.

“I’ve…”

My stomach lurches at the vulnerable words prancing on my tongue. Taking in a limited breath of air, I speak quickly, not letting my thoughts disturb the statement.

“I’ve been in a relationship. I…it lasted a while, but it wasn’t good. It was years ago, and—and I still haven’t dated anyone since. It’s not that I still have feelings for him or anything, I just—this is scary for me too.” I announce in a hushed tone.

Chris frowns slightly at the admission. His eyes drop to my shoulder, slowly tracing back up to mine. He grabs my hand from his face, tugging it into his own once more before softly letting them drop.

Sitting further up, he quickly wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in the crook of my neck. My bones lay stiff from shock. Shifting quickly, I reciprocate the embrace by letting my arms loop on top of his shoulders.

“Thank you for telling me.” he says.

The warmth of his breath fanning through my hair and onto my neck gives me a hopeful void in the doubtful thoughts that had swarmed my head from the confession. A weight had lifted from my shoulder as I clung onto him tighter.

“Thank you.” I mumble.

His arms stay in place, his hand flattening against either side as he hugs himself to me. My pulse relaxes, my ears no longer pounding with the rhymatic anxiety. I loosen my arms, letting my chin deplete onto his shoulder.

His hand swarms up, cupping around the back of my head. I feel his lips plant a soft kiss with a hum of contentment onto my clothed shoulder. The skin tingles through the fabric of my shirt. I let myself bathe in the sensation traveling behind my neck as the hair stuck up with goosebumps.

I felt thankful as I rested in his arms. With each passing second, the wall of bricks came crashing down as I let myself crumble completely into his embrace. The looming ghosts and haunted thoughts left as I admired the warmth of his body radiated onto mine. A lively sensation of soothing calmness rushed through the aura surrounding us.

Resting in the silence became a moment I felt myself trying to engrain the lightness of my chest as a memory in my mind. My lips felt as if they were blossoming from the new found confidence and ease around his presence.

I want more too.

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@cressidacowl

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aliaology · 2 years ago

Text

COACH

summary: reader is a single mother who just signed her son up for hockey! who knew that number eighty-six of the new jersey devils would help coach alongside his teammates.

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: talks of teen pregnancy if that counts…? talks of sex and birth control. SO MUCH FLUFF BC I THINK JACK WOULD BE GREAT WITH LIL KIDS.

being pregnant at eighteen was not what you expected. no, it was actually nowhere near your list of “what will i do when im eighteen.” of course, you tried to figure out where you went wrong. thats when it hit you, you forgot to take your birth control that entire week, and your now ex-boyfriend was so sure you would still be fine because you took it a few days before.

how wrong he was. and he fled quickly too.

now you sat in the small bleachers of a local rink, helping your son get his skates tied. the five year old gave a goofy grin as he saw some of his friends from school or from the same apartment complex as you.

“you ready to go, baby?” you ask him with a smile, patting his leg as you helped him stand on the skates.

“uh huh!” he smiled widely.

“okay, lets go lovie, one of the coaches will be paired with you and helping you, okay?” you told him, bending down to his height. he gave a toothy grin.

“okay mama!” you smiled and held his hand as you brought him over to the opening of the rink. a few kids were in front of you two, getting paired with one of the older males.

you learned that it was the new jersey devils, their team came to help the little ones. you smiled at your son as you guys got to the opening. number eighty six awaited for your son.

jack lifted his gaze from his hands to you and your son. his breath hitched as he saw your face. you were pretty. really pretty.

he stuck his hand out, “hi im jack— jack hughes” he smiled.

you grabbed his hand, shaking it slightly. “its nice to meet you, im y/n.” you grin. you then look at your son, so does jack.

jack crouches down. “and whats your name little bud?” he asked.

“connor!” your son smiled.

“well connor, you ready to play some hockey?” jack grinned. your son nodded excitedly and grabbed onto jacks arm.

jack took your son out onto the ice as you sat down back on the bleachers. you crossed your legs and placed your head onto your hand as you watched your son excitedly practice with number 86.

jack hughes was attractive, you knew that for sure. but the way he was so gentle with your son, holy shit you felt like it was love at first sight. of course, it wasn’t, but this very attractive man was being amazing to your son. who would not want that?

you watched as he helped your son skate around. he helped connor hold his stick properly, helped him hit the puck. though— you couldn’t help but laugh when connor slipped and fell straight on his butt. jack seemed to also find it funny as he slapped a hand over his mouth while helping connor up.

you also watched as jack would sneak glances at you every so often. you had to say it made you feel flustered when you caught him.

after about two hours, the small practice came to and end. parents took photos with some of the devils, kids got their stuff put back in bags, but your son, he was attached to jack’s hip. he would not leave jack alone,

jack needed to take a picture with a fan? connor would wait patiently for him. jack had to go back to the players box for his stuff? connor was following. jack was walking towards you? well, connor was in his arms.

“little man here seems to like me, i think” jack spoke with a smile.

you let out a small laugh as the now tired kid had rested his head against jacks shoulder.

“i think so too, im sorry about him being all over you. he doesn’t get attached easily so this is somewhat new.” you spoke softly.

you grabbed the helmet from jacks grasp, putting it in your son’s hockey bag. “its no problem at all, really. hes a cutie, and one hell of a fast learner.” jack gushed.

you smiled, turning to your son who rubbed his eyes. “ready to go home, baby?” you asked, hands out so he could go to you.

“no! i want to stay with jack” he pouted, turning his head away.

you sighed softly. “im sorry jack.” you told.

“its okay, promise. here, ill hold him so you can take his gear off and then i can carry him to your car? does that sound okay?” jack asked.

you nod as you smile. “sounds perfect.”

jack sat down, holding connor. you gently took of his gear, even if it was a struggle that connor wouldn’t even move from jack’s shoulder. once you got it all in his bag, including his skates, you zipped it up and slung it over your shoulder.

you and jack walked in silence as connor had fallen asleep on jacks shoulder. once you got to your car, you put connor’s bag in the back as jack gently placed him in his car seat.

you turn to him. “thank you for this, it means a lot to me.” you told him.

“couldn’t resist. the kids a cutie and hes got spunk. not to mention his mom is really pretty too.” jack told, smiling at you.

his face then dropped. “i mean unless you have a boyfriend— i totally didn’t say that.” he stuttered.

you laughed lightly, “i dont, thank you” you muttered.

jack’s cheeks went pink. “i uh— can i get your number by any chance?” he asks.

“will you be here next practice?” you question. jack nods. “team will be here for all except when we have roadies.” jack explained.

you nod. “you can have it next practice.” you smile and go to your side of the car. “thank you again, jack.”

“no.. problem” he spoke slowly. he watched you drive away. he barely knew you but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

hes so cutie

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils #new jersey #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey #86 eighty six #86

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puttersmile · 6 months ago

Text

I had a weird dream and crack ship was born

Frowny: Oh…yeah she seems. Nice. Dogday? Where are you going?

Dogday offscreen running away as fast as he can.

I don't even remember the dream but I remember the ship.

I need possible ship name. Ideas? Right now I'm thinking Chocolate Rain lol.

Gametoons is so bad. But I somehow someway had a liking for Frowny Fox (and maybe some of the other forgotten critters)

I also wasn't satisfied by how i drew Maggie in my last comic. That's what I get for trying to draw her from memory and not just...looking up a picture. So I tried again. I like this design a lot more.

A short oneshot fic under the cut. At the last minute I changed it to be Christmas themed which is why the picture isn't Christmas themed.

The Day Frowny Realized Maggie Wasn't Just Scary

The outdoor mall was chaos. With the holidays right around the corner, critters flooded the square, scrambling for last-minute gifts and bargains. Stalls were crammed with shiny trinkets, festive treats, and decorations that probably cost twice as much as they should. Frowny hated this. Crowds made his fur itch, and the pressure of picking the perfect gift didn’t help.

He was here for a Secret Santa gift exchange, and the name he’d drawn-an acquaintance who loved puzzles and had a mild obsession with coffee had him stumped. He hovered by a table of mugs, frowning at one shaped like a sleeping squirrel. It was cute, but not too cute, right? He didn’t want to send the wrong message.

Just as he reached for it, something slammed into his side, sending him stumbling into the stall. A sharp hiss of pain escaped Frowny as he caught himself on the edge of the table.

“MOVE IT, BUDDY!”

Frowny turned, his tail bristling, to see a yellow gecko in ugly brown pants rushing through the crowd, shoving critters out of his way like a hurricane. Before Frowny could even get a word out, the gecko shoved another critter. This time, the wrong one.

Maggie Mako.

Oh no.

Maggie didn’t budge. Didn’t even sway. She turned her head slowly, towering over the gecko like a tidal wave about to break. Her grin was wide and full of teeth. “You wanna try that again, pal?”

The gecko froze, his cocky energy deflating immediately. “Uh… my bad,” he stammered, his eyes darting for an exit.

“You shoved someone else, then bump into me? Oh, you’ve got guts. Let’s see if you like keeping them inside.”

The gecko's yellow scales turned white. “S-s-sorry ma'am! D-didn't mean to-uh-yeah, I’ll just-”

“Scram,” Maggie growled, crossing her arms. That was all it took. The gecko bolted, nearly tripping over his own tail as he disappeared into the crowd.

Maggie rolled her shoulders and went back to considering some very ornate holiday cookies, looking more annoyed than anything. “Some critters. That's what I thought.” she muttered, dusting her hands off.

Frowny, who had been standing frozen with one paw still clutching the squirrel mug, finally remembered how to breathe. He adjusted his scarf and was about to slink away unnoticed when Maggie turned, catching him mid-stare.

Her grin softened with recognition. Less teeth, more playful.

“You okay, Foxy boy?”

It took a second for Frowny’s brain to catch up. Maggie had just defended him. Maggie, the big, scary shark woman who could probably bench press two wagons full of pumpkins, had stepped in for him. And now she was looking at him, smiling, as if she hadn’t just terrified someone out of their scales.

“I, uh…” His left ear flicked nervously. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Maggie stepped closer, her shadow falling over him like a blanket. “You look a little pale. Well, paler than usual.” She smirked, her tone teasing but not unkind.

Frowny wanted to say something clever, but his brain had short-circuited. Instead, he noticed something odd: Maggie didn’t seem scary in that moment. She seemed… safe. Yes. safe, strong and confident, but not in a way that made him want to hide. In fact, it was kind of… nice?

And then it hit him. It wasn’t just nice. It was attractive. Hot even? Did his brain really just go there.

Oh no.

Maggie arched a brow, waiting for a response. When none came, she leaned down, eyes twinkling. “What’s the matter, Foxy? Catnap got your tongue?”

Frowny’s ears burned. He yanked his scarf higher over his face. “No. I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.” The words came out in a rushed jumble as he turned and awkwardly strutted away, his tail puffed up like a bottle brush.

Maggie blinked after him, then laughed. “You’re welcome!” she called, shaking her head. “Weird little guy.”

Meanwhile, Frowny ducked behind a corner, clutching his chest like his heart was about to escape. What was that? What was that?! He’d spent weeks avoiding Maggie because she was terrifying, and now, after one incident, he was- no. No, no,no. This wasn’t happening! He did not have a thing for Maggie Mako.

…But her smile had been kind of nice. And her strength had been… really nice. Pretty smile, very white cheerful teeth that didn't frighten him like they'd used to.

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself, ears flat. “This is bad.”

It was the beginning of the end. Or maybe the start of something good? No of course not! Or maybe it could be? Frowny wasn’t sure yet. He just knew he was doomed.

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twirlyleafs · 1 year ago

Text

“Gold-digger.” (Pt2) (pt1 here)

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: nothing really, angsty? lol

A/N: oml so many of you asked for a part 2 and I’m just so happy you liked the first part!! thank uuu!!

~~~~

To say that you slept bad was an understatement. The moment Daniel let you in to his and Heidi’s hotel room you had started crying and it took almost half an hour before the couple got a sense of what had happened. They’d been at the dinner, hearing Maxs comments, and after piecing it together with what you were telling them now they began to see the bigger picture. Heidi sat with you on the balcony while Daniel made up the couch, insisting you should share the bed with his girlfriend despite your objection.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that much, and it wasn’t because Daniel’s snoring or Heidi’s tossing and turning. Every time you were about to fall asleep you could hear Maxs voice telling you what a shitty girlfriend you were, or you imagined him complaining to his friends that you used up his money like some sort of gold digger. You knew he didn’t think quite like that, and he definitely wouldn’t do any of those things but the knowledge of how he saw your whole relationship had you spiraling.

When Daniel woke, he was always an early riser, he found you already wide awake and anxious. The Aussie knew by the look on your face that you didn’t want to leave the safety of the hotel room alone and he quickly invited you to breakfast. Said and done, Daniel kissed his sleeping girlfriend goodbye before the two of you trudged out in the hallway. It was still early enough that everything was quiet and empty, the only sound being your yawn and Danny typing on his phone.

“You think they have pancakes?” You asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked. He hummed, looking up from his phone with a small smile.

“I hope so. I need some.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Me too. And I need them to practically be swimming in chocolate sauce and-“ You stopped, both talking and walking, when you saw a door open further down the hallway. Daniel walked a few more steps, glancing between Max stepping out of the room and you with an apologetic pout. He must’ve told Max you were coming. Asshole. You met his gaze and he mouthed a sorry, making you shake your head before carefully looking over at the man standing in the doorway. He offered an unsure smile. Daniel grabbed your arm, giving you no choice but to start walking again. When the two of you reached Max he gave you an encouraging squeeze and patted Max on the shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway. You should’ve known you couldn’t trust Daniel.

“Hey.” Max said softly, making you look up at him. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes and judging by the way his face fell he probably noticed how red yours were.

“Hi.”

“You wanna talk?” Max opened the door a bit wider and with a soft nod you snuck past him into the room. You heard him let out a breath of relief and you found yourself being almost grateful that he seemed to be just as nervous as you were. You sunk down on the edge of the bed, watching as Max sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and pulled your legs up under yourself, casting your gaze down on your fiddling fingers. “Not to good, I guess.” You answered honestly, Max answering with a soft hum, agreeing. Things were quiet for a while before he spoke up.

“Are you still angry?” You would’ve been annoyed at the question if it wasn’t for the genuine sadness in his voice. Instead you shook your head.

“No. Just a bit sad I think.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sad schatje.” His words were almost whispered. You looked up at him through lashes.

“Do you still believe we’re only together because you’re paying me?”

“That was never- that not what I meant.” He practically whined, shaking his head. “I love you.”

“You just don’t think I actually love you? I’m just using you for your money?” Max gave you a defeated look, shaking his head quickly.

“That’s not-“

“It’s exactly what you said Max!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You felt the tears pressing behind your eyes again. “Do you know how much of a bad fucking girlfriend I feel like knowing that’s how you see us? Me?” His eyes widened slightly but he didn’t have time to say anything before you started talking again. “I mean, I would’ve paid for my own food, my own travels- everything! If I just knew you felt like that I wouldn’t have let you spend your money on me but you always insist and you’ve always told me you wanted to-“

“I do want to.” He intervened quickly.

“But you want to for the wrong reasons. You want to because you think you need to, because you think I want you to.” When your eyes met again you could tell Max didn’t know what to say. His mouth opened and closed again, no words coming out as his gaze faltered to the ground. You reached up and quickly wiped a stray tear, sniffing quietly as the silence settled. It felt like forever before you heard Maxs voice again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t either.” You agreed.

“Let’s just-“ Max sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Let’s just go home, yeah?” When you didn’t answer he leaned forward slightly, trying to get your attention. You slowly raised your gaze to met his, both your eyes portraying to much emotions to process.

“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Yeah, okay. Yeah sure.” He nodded, swallowing harshly. “I’ll- eh, I’ll go down to breakfast and you can order up? If you want to? And then I’ll text you when it’s time to leave for the airport?”

“No, Max.” You shook your head, face contorting in a sad frown. He paused, offering an encouraging nod. He wanted you to tell him what you needed, how to fix this. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. Or at least he thought so. “I think I need to be alone for more than a few hours. Like, I think I should travel alone back home, maybe even back to my parents for a bit. Just to-“

“Wait.” You hated the look of panic mixed with pure hurt that flashed across his face as he sat up a bit straighter. “Wait, no, y/n please.”

“I’m not saying that we’re breaking up Max.” You assured him, watching with a heavy heart as he stood, quickly making his way over to you. The second he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed his hands found yours and you could feel the panic seeping through his fingers.

“I get that I fucked up. I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I said, I didn’t mean it. Liefje please don’t-“

“Max.”

“Please don’t leave me. You know I love you, right?” With every word his voice lost its steadiness and you could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I love you so much-“

“Max.” You interrupted him again, pulling your hand from his grasp to reach up and cup his cheek. “I know, alright? I know. I love you too.” His eyes flickered between yours, unconsciously leaning into your palm.

“Don’t leave.”

With a soft breath you leaned in to press a light kiss against his lips before shuffling closer, letting him wrap his arms around your body. When you placed your head against his chest he tightened his grip, terrified of letting go. The two of you sat like that, just holding each other for what felt forever. You thought back on the past twelve hours. The words that had been said, the insecurities that’d bubbled up. You knew Max never meant to hurt you, you knew that even before you entered his hotel room this morning but the conversation you just had cemented it. The man currently holding you tightly against his chest was the love of your life, no doubt about it, but that didn’t change the fact that all you could think about right now was money. His money, your money, how you could ever let him spend even one euro on you ever again. The thought had your insides churning and that’s why you knew you needed time. Time to process and figure this out before you could come back to him.

“How long?” You snapped out of your thoughts at Maxs voice, so quiet and gentle that you barely caught it at first. When you asked what he meant he let out a breath. “How long do you need? How long til you come back?”

“I don’t know Max. But I’ll come back. I promise.”

~~~~

Ten days. For ten days the only contact between you and Max had been an occasional phone call and a few pictures. He sent you updates on Jimmy and Sassy and you answered with pictures of your parent’s dog, Bongo. Other than that he gave you the space you’d asked for, no matter how much it hurt him not to constantly beg you to come home.

During your time at your parent’s house you’d spent your time just being. Going back to your roots. You hadn’t been brought up traveling the world in private jets or expensive boats and despite loving your life with Max it felt nice to just trudge around your parents backyard in your pajamas, throwing sticks for your dog to fetch. Your father was the most logical person in your life, he’d always been the one you’d turn to when you needed advice and this time it was no different. Your parents both loved Max and they were obviously upset when you came home crying, but after a few days spent talking and reasoning with them you finally saw the situation in a different light. Your dad’s words echoed in your head as you carefully slipped the keys into the door of your apartment, a deep breath leaving your lips when you stepped inside. You were relived to finally be home and you could almost feel yourself buzzing at the thought of seeing Max again. You spoke his name as you walked through the apartment, frowning slightly at the stillness of it. It took you a few minutes before you finally made it to Maxs office, stopping in the doorway when you saw him. He was in his gaming chair, one knee tucked against his chest and chin resting tiredly against it. The computer was turned off, instead his attention was on the toy in his hand as he bounced it slightly for Sassy to play with. You smiled softly at the sight, feeling your chest swell when you heard Max mumble something to the cat.

“Where’s Jimmy?” Despite your words coming out soft and quiet Max flinched, dropping the toy to the ground as he looked up at you. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly as he took you in, trying to convince himself you were really there.

“You’re home.” He stated and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, nodding.

“I told you I’d come back, right?” Max just shook his head, rising from the chair. In a few quick strides he reached you, immediately wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you tightly against his chest. Without a thought your arms snaked around his waist, feeling your whole body relax completely for the first time since before all this. You didn’t know exactly what it was that had you suddenly feel your throat closing up, the tears pressing behind your eyes as you turned your face even deeper into his shirt, but you knew they were good tears.

“Fuck.” Maxs voice was shaky, you could tell he was on the verge of crying too, and you squeezed him even tighter. “Fuck I missed you.”

“I missed you too Maxie.” You mumbled against his chest, breathing in his scent. You’d known you’d missed him while at your parents, but somehow you hadn’t expected to be quite this emotional reuniting with him. The two of you held each other for a moment, only separating slightly when Sassy pushed her way between your legs, loud noises leaving her small frame. As you leaned away from Max you chuckled down at the furry creature, softly assuring her that you’d missed her too, before your gaze moved up to your boyfriend. You found him already staring down at you, one hand reluctantly leaving your body to reach up and cup your cheek. When you leaned slightly into his palm you noticed him release a breath, finally a small smile making its way to his face. It disappeared too soon for your liking, a light frown taking its place.

“I’m so sorry.” He began, voice serious.

“Max-“ you sighed, but he shook his head and you pressed your lips together, deciding to let him talk. By the look on his face it seemed like he really needed to get this out.

“I realized a few days ago that I never actually apologized. I wanted to call and tell you straightaway but I didn’t want to disturb, I didn’t want to say it over text either but- baby I’m so sorry.” Max spoke slowly, he needed you to really hear him. “I never should’ve said any of that shit and even though I didn’t mean it like you think I did I should’ve realized how it sounded.” He paused for a second, hand slipping from your face to gently hold yours between your bodies. You nodded encouragingly, gently swiping your thumb across his knuckles as he continued. “For me it has always been sort of obvious that the things I have I’ve gotten because of racing. My dad always said that if I wanted something I had to be the best and I guess that just fucked with my head, fucked with the way I see myself and people around me. I’m used to people wanting something from me and somehow I applied that to you too, despite the fact that I’ve actually never felt like that with you. I fell in love with you because you made everything seem so effortless, like you just needed me and nothing else. You’ve never asked me for anything, even if you could and I’d happily give it to you, and I can’t for my life figure out why I would say what I said. I think it was my own insecurities, my fears, that had me place those thoughts on you and I can’t stress enough how fucking sorry I am for that.” He swallowed hard, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he waited for you to answer. Your eyes trailed over his face and you contemplated carefully how to respond before eventually speaking up.

“I know you didn’t mean it like- like I thought in the beginning. I realize that now, after some time. I understand your point of view- or maybe I don’t understand it but I accept it. I know you Max, I know the way your mind works and your insecurities. But you also know me and it really hurt me to know that even the thought of me being with you for your money crossed your mind.” His gaze dropped down to your hands at your words, nodding. He was ashamed, you knew he was, and despite knowing he might deserve it you really didn’t want him to. Not anymore. With a soft breath you pulled your hand from his, reaching up to cup both his cheeks. When Max met your gaze again you offered a small smile, thumbs moving over his skin. “We all let stupid thoughts cloud our minds sometimes, that’s human. I’m not holding it against you as long as you promise me you’ll tell me if you ever actually feel like I’m somehow taking advantage of you. Or your money.”

“I promise.” He nodded quickly and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. Without another word you reached up on your toes, capturing his lips in a long awaited kiss. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a short and sweet peck the both of you craved more, having been away from each other for way too long. Max deepened the kiss and it didn’t take long until he hoisted you up in his arms, lips instead attacking your neck and shoulder as he mumbled scattered declarations of love against your skin.

Later that evening the two of you laid curled up in bed, legs tangled together and Maxs head placed securely on your chest. As your fingers combed their way through his hair his drew random shapes against your skin, both of you enjoying the sounds of Jimmy and Sassy’s purring from the other side of the bed.

“I’d love you every time.” Max mumbled suddenly, making you pause for a second before continuing your movement.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’d find you no matter what, I’d love you in every timeline and every universe. No matter what any of us were doing I’d find a way to be with you.” His words were almost a bit slurred, the sleepiness thick in his voice, but you heard him loud and clear and it made your heart swell.

“I’d find you too Max. Even if you worked at a gas station.”

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <33 @brod16 @spookystitchery @witchsbitchestime @bingussthirdtoe @itsjustkhaos @tylerstacobell @ironmaiden1313 @bitchreader @sp1rl @marvelfangirl04 @kravitzwhore @darleneslane @amberpanda99

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