#five days... five days until we see them again...

[maruflix]

BOYS BEWARE! #variouscharacters #windbreaker #f!reader

the boys know that you are the town’s most notorious heartbreaker. it would be stupid for them to involve themselves with you. it’s not like they didn’t know that they’re sharing you with their own friends— but damn you look fine. / REQ.

feat. sakura, suo, kaji, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi　　⎯⎯　wc. 3.4k

content: female reader, REVERSE HAREM, reader is a heartbreaker, pre-established relationship, they fall in love first, they fall in love harder, reader is either toxic or playful depending on how you look at it, OKAY READER IS KINDA TOXIC, this is a brainrot and a passion project god bless whoever sent this request, no beta we die like my hopes and dreams

SAKURA HARUKA -> MET A BOY FROM OUTTA TOWN...

Sakura doesn’t know how to express his emotions, so he usually lets them rot and die inside him, preferring to ignore them until they disappear.

He never succeeds to do so whenever you come around. All it takes is one smile. One smile from you and he’s completely defenseless at your mercy.

“I-is this guy bothering you?” Sakura’s attempt to sound gruff seems to fool the dumbass who thinks he’s got a chance with you. He eyes down the weak looking eyesore who kept bothering you since five minutes ago. The pathetic creature couldn’t even look him in the eye.

You flash him a smile. That damn smile. He feels like he’s going to choke.

“He is!” you sigh, tugging the sleeve of his jacket, “Are you here on patrol?”

The weakling knows to make himself scarce, leaving Sakura standing alone with you. He hopes you can’t hear his heart thundering inside his ribcage.

“Yes. I came to give you this.” He clumsily hands you a small box of your favorite cake, almost dropping it in the process and quickly adding, “I-I accidentally bought extra!”

You’re now blinking your gorgeous eyes, surprised, but reach out to take it anyway. “Oh, Haruka-kun! You’re so thoughtful!”

The way his name rolls out your tongue makes him go insane.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” Giggling, you hug his arm, accidentally brushing your head against his shoulder..

Just when he’s about to ask you if you had any plans that weekend, he sees that your line of vision has shifted away from him. He follows it to see Suo standing a couple feet away, smiling.

Oh.

He looks down to see you already smiling up at him like nothing happened. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Haruka-kun! Maybe we can watch a movie together this weekend?”

His heart leaps; so you also want to spend more time with him! He’s just about to say that he’d really, really want that— but you’re already slipping away from his grasp into the direction of his best friend.

You turn your head once more to look at him, “Text me!” before skipping away.

It’s okay, Sakura convinces himself, I’ll definitely text you first.

The warmth of you still lingers on his arm.

SUO HAYATO -> I HELD THE KNIFE BUT YOU HAD THE GUN

Why does Suo still waste his time with you?

He wonders the same thing when he stares at you, eating in front of him.

You eat without a care in the world. Then again, you never seem to care about anything. He just wishes that you’d care about him more. What did you think he was going to feel when he sees you in the arms of Sakura freaking Haruka in the middle of the day? But then again, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything, so it’s not like he had a say—

“Hayato-kun, aren’t you gonna eat?”

Suo blinks, looking down at his half-eaten salad. He’s supposed to be on a diet, but he’d gladly eat a five course meal if it meant being able to spend time with you. “Sorry!” he smiles, “I was too busy staring at you, it seems!” Other people would’ve gotten flustered with his teasing. Suo knows he’s handsome and talks well.

“Oh?” you tilt your head, “do I look pretty today? You’ve been staring a lot~”

Suo’s gaze snaps back to you, his heart skipping a beat. He instantly regrets it when he sees you smiling at him teasingly, a lock of hair falling in front of your face perfectly.

“Very.” he breathes out, brushing your hair away from your face. Hoping that it’d be enough to finally fluster you. Hoping that he can finally win against you for once.

He didn’t expect you to blush. The red tinting your cheeks makes you glow. “Hayato-kun, a surprise attack like that is not fair..”

Suo feels like he’s finally reclaiming himself. Redeeming himself from the devil that is you. Feeling brave, he moves his hand to rest on top of yours, not missing the way your eyes widen ever so slightly. Maybe, maybe....

“What..?”

“It’s my birthday this week.” He starts, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “do you have any plans?”

In truth, he knows that you already plan on spending the weekend with Kaji Ren (how can he not know, when Kaji blabs to everyone about it?) but he wonders if you’ll choose to be with him instead. He tried not to be desperate but he already knew there’s no fooling you, not when the corners of your lips lift ever so slightly—

“Oh, really?!”

He can see that the gears in your brain are turning, your pretty eyes flitting across the room to find an excuse. Still, the enthusiasm in your voice left him hoping.

“I forgot! You know how bad I am with my own schedule..”

Suo exhales, trying not to look disappointed.

“But I’ll definitely cancel them to give you a surprise party!” You pull his hands to hold them tight, a serious look on your face, “Wait. It’s not a surprise if I tell you beforehand, is it?”

The twinkle in your eyes makes Suo wonder if you’ve expected this test. He may have won this fight, but he’s destined to lose the war. There’s just no winning against you.

Even so, he has won this fight... and he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else.

KAJI REN -> YOU CHEW MY HEART LIKE BUBBLEGUM !

Kaji tries to not go overboard, but he did anyway.

He’s tailored the hangout to your exact liking, booking everything two weeks in advance, making you squeal in joy when he tells you that he secured a spot in that hip new café that you keep eyeing during walks.

So when you fail to show up, Kaji knew that it was because of another man. He may be oblivious sometimes but he’s not stupid. There’s no way you cancelled on him last minute to feed your grandma’s cat. Your grandma died two months ago for God’s sake.

That’s why he’s steeled his heart to finally break away from your grasp. He can’t keep hurting himself and hoping you’d finally see him as your only love. He’s not stupid.

“I’m sorry, Ren-kun... you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

He refuses to look at you, knowing that he’d fold the instant he sees those gorgeous eyes.

“I messed up.. I have no excuse..”

“Why?” he asks, demands for you to say it with your own mouth. Say that you chose another man over him.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth.” You bent down to look at him, unrelenting even when he stares at you coldly, “It was Hayato-kun’s birthday yesterday. I threw him a surprise party with Haruka-kun and Nirei-kun.”

There’s a rare sincerity in your words, a fragile honesty that makes him both relieved and forlorn. “Thank you for telling the truth.” He didn’t want you to see him cry, so he gets up and starts to walk away.

“Wait! Ren-kun!” You call after him, making him walk faster. His eyes are already starting to burn. He had wanted you to tell him the truth, so why does it still hurt this much?

“Oof!”

The sudden thud makes him stop dead in his tracks. The unmistakable sound of a crash. He spins around, seeing you bent over on the ground, holding your knee. His heart drops, already forgetting the reason he walked away in the first place.

“Why are you so clumsy?!” He chides, squatting down next to you. The red in your knee is starting to drip down to your ankle. Guilt bubbles up in his throat, blocking his airway. You’re bleeding because of him.

“Sorry, I can’t even walk right..” you’re still smiling even when tears are streaming down your face. Even then, you look radiant.

“Climb up.” He offers his back, almost losing his mind from the guilt and worry.

“I can’t receive any more of your kindness,” your voice is small behind him, “I’m a horrible friend..”

Kaji wants to yell at you to prioritize yourself more, to tell you that he’ll probably sulk for a day before returning to you with a wagging tail— but all his words get caught in his throat when he sees you crying.

What can he do, except pull you into his embrace?

You melt almost instantly, sobbing apologies after apologies.

What can he do, except tell you that it doesn’t matter and he’s the one at fault?

Fuck it. He is stupid, he is dumb— and he will continue to be, if it means being able to hold you in his arms.

UMEMIYA HAJIME -> SHE MAKES THEM FALL DOWN TO THEIR KNEES AND CRY

Umemiya thinks that he has an advantage over the other guys that flock to you.

When you had a bad day and snap at him, he pats your head and listens to your problems. When he saw you laughing with Endo and Takiishi, he turns a blind eye. When you tell him you suddenly felt like hanging out with Togame, there’s a prick in his heart, but even so, he understands.

He’s very mature and mentally stable. No amount of cancelling plans and harsh words and flirting with other boys can faze him. He thought that those qualities would make you love him more— but he is so sorely mistaken.

“Is something on your mind?” Umemiya bends down slightly but you look away, your lips pursed into a tight line. He rubs your hair, knowing how much you love headpats, but all he got is an annoyed huff.

He’s terrified now.

“What’s wrong?” He can no longer hide the panic in his voice.

Finally, you look at him.

“You don’t love me.”

Your accusation makes him want to die. How can you say that he doesn’t love you when he has fought all his jealousy and killed all his pride?

Umemiya leads you to a nearby bench and kneels down to your height, trying to use the cold ground as a way to cool his beating heart, “Why do you say that?”

You’re twirling a lock of hair now, something you always do when you’re annoyed. “Do you even want to be with me? It’s like you’re just hanging out with me to pass time. Do you even care?”

Your words seem so straightforward, yet Umemiya still doesn’t understand. Whatever did he do that can possibly translate to such a baseless statement?

“I didn’t know that you’re not on good terms with Endo and Takiishi. I look like a bad friend. You don’t even care who I’m hanging out with.”

But Umemiya does care. He cares so much about who you’re hanging out with that he secretly tells the guys to go on patrols whenever you come to visit him, knowing that you’ll definitely get distracted otherwise. He cares so much that he tells Takiishi Chika to stay the hell away from you, causing him to get into a full blown fight. He cares.

“I do.” He frowns, “If I tell you I’m a jealous person, what will you do?”

He merely wanted to punish you a bit for doubting his affections. Someone as kind as you would definitely get flustered when he says something so out of character.

But when he glances at you, you look at him straight in the eyes.

“I will be happy,” The light from the lamppost casts a warm glow over your face, “because finally, you’re being honest with me.”

Umemiya doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Your words are so kind, so you, but it’s like alarm bells are going off inside his head.

“I like it when Hajime-kun is jealous. In fact, I like all of Hajime-kun’s qualities.” Your hand is now tangled in his hair, caressing them softly.

It’s scary how your touch silences all his doubts and makes him putty in your hands. He breathes out a sigh of relief and leans into your touch, knowing that he found favor in your eyes again. “Okay. Okay. I am jealous. Don’t hate me because of that..”

He looks up to see you smiling and a chill runs down his spine.

If you want him to beg, he will beg. If you want him to cry, he will cry. He might try not to show it, but heaven knows he will move hell to be with you.

TOGAME JO -> MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’VE BECOME INSANE.

Being a Shishitoren second-in-command makes Togame unable to spend as much time with you as he’d like.

You live in Makochi, so naturally you’re friends with the Furin boys. Normally, he’d feel relieved that you have other people to protect you from rival gangs when he’s not around, but he only now realizes how close you actually are with Bofurin.

It was supposed to be a surprise. He didn’t tell you that he’s visiting, hoping to catch you off guard when he suddenly drops by. Instead, it was you who caught him off guard.

Togame watches mutely as Umemiya pats your head, hearing the sound of his own heart breaking. The two of you doesn’t seem to realize that he’s standing right there. Like a fool.

“Oh? Togame-kun, you’re here!”

How? How can you sound so.. unbothered? He doesn’t even know what kind of expression is on his face right now.

Umemiya is looking at him without an ounce of guilt. Wait, has he been the fool all along? Has he always been second string? Togame’s head is full of thoughts, none of them good. Oh God, what should he do?

“Togame-kun? Are you okay?”

Your voice is inquisitive, innocent. He is brought back to reality when you grip his shoulder. He looks at you, standing on your tippy toes, your eyes wide and searching.

“You... him..”

“Hm?” As if reminded, you look at Umemiya. “Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming, so I had Hajime-kun walk me home! Uh, but since you’re here...”

Umemiya smiles. Tight. Togame knows that he will probably get a beating if you’re not there. But you are. And Umemiya Hajime relents.

“Right! We can walk home tomorrow. It’s not like everyday Togame visits!” Umemiya’s voice is cheery but the icy undertones is clear.

Don’t you dare make this an everyday occurence.

When Umemiya disappears, Togame lets you pull him with you, still at a loss for words.

“Sooo, what brought you here?” You seem so happy to see him... as if he didn’t just catch you with another man. “Oh, I just realized you have your hair tied! You look good! I like you better this way, I think!”

“Are you... going out with Umemiya Hajime?” Like a fool, that is the only thing can he can say.

You blink at him in surprise, like he just asked you if elephants could fly. Was he not supposed to ask? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything... but you told him you love him.

“I...”

Your laugh interrupts his train of thought. “Of course not, silly!” It seems like his question is so funny that you’re actually doubling over and smacking his arm. “Oh, Togame-kun. Are you jealous?”

Are you seriously asking him that right now?

He’s not jealous. He’s furious.

“Maybe?”

“Aww, you’re so cute! And kinda naive, but like in a really cute way!” You’re resting your head on his arm now, hugging it as the two of you continue walking, “Me and Hajime-kun, we’re just friends! You can ask him if you want!”

Togame doesn’t know what to say. He feels stupid. Maybe he’s just not used to having female friends who’s also friends with other guys. “Why do you call him by his first name?”

You stop walking, causing him to pause too. “Oh my God!” Feeling you pull his arm, Togame turns to look at you. “Togame-kun, you’re totally jealous! That’s so cute! Is it because I don’t call you by your first name?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Why would you say you love him and call another guy by his first name? But now that Togame hears himself, he wonders if he’s just being crazy. He’s ashamed of himself now.

“Don’t sulk like that, Jo-kun. I was too shy to call you so intimately, you know!”

Togame feels like he’s being pacified... but he doesn’t hate it. He pulls you closer to him, engulfing you in a side hug, letting you nuzzle up to him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I don’t really care.”

He feels crazy. Seeing you with another man brought him to the edge of insanity. Luckily, Togame is not someone who backs down so easily. He watches you laughing and wonders when you’ll finally realize his feelings.

Maybe if he deals with Umemiya Hajime, you’ll finally be his and his alone?

ENDO YAMATO -> DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU

From the start, Endo can see that you and him are similar.

The two of you hide behind smiles, faking feelings until you lose track of what you actually feel. Trying to put a brave front and succeeding so much that everyone thinks you’re a self-obsessed, entitled brat with the ego of Mount Fuji.

Maybe he’s so full of himself that he sees so much of himself in you and he falls in love.

Despairingly.

Because you immediately call him out on his feelings, warning him that you don’t feel the same way.

Perhaps he truly is so sure of himself because he tells you that he will wait for you, however long it takes. As if waiting for you can make you love him.

“You’re hurt again!” Is the first thing you say when Endo walks to you today. Your eyebrows are immediately scrunched, eyes glowing in worry.

When he’s hurt, he feels like he’s the only one in your eyes.

You carefully examine the gash on his arm, delicately tracing the ends of the wound. Endo winces a bit. “Does that hurt? I’ll get a first aid kit.”

Endo watches in awe as your fingers move quickly, dressing his wound with the finesse of a nurse. You don’t catch him staring, too busy on your handiwork. On him.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He says, hoping you’ll say otherwise.

“Mhm. But I did.”

“So why did you?” Endo feels like an attention-seeking child.

You close the first aid kit and look at him, sighing. “Because I care about you.”

His eyes must’ve glimmered with hope, because you quickly added, “You get hurt a lot, so I worry about you.”

“It’s because.. my head is not at the right place today.” Oh, he’s so desperate to get you to pay attention to him.

Who cares if he purposefully angers Chika? Maybe one of these days you’ll catch the guy beating him to a pulp with your own eyes and you’ll stop spending so much time with that devil. Who cares if he let Chika throw that punch? The more cuts he has, the better. That means you’ll spend more time dressing him up.

“What’s wrong?”

Endo shakes his head. “You won’t understand.”

He has long learned that you never back down from a challenge.

“Really? Try me.”

See? Endo smiles, “What do you do when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?”

There’s an indecipherable emotion in your eyes.

“What do you do...” Endo muses, “when you’ve tried to forget about this person, but you can’t?” He lets you hold his hand, inching closer to lean on you for comfort, “I think I love her with every fibre of my being.”

“Maybe someday she’ll return your feelings too.”

Endo closes his eyes and smiles. You spew out such beautiful lies, he fears he’ll start to believe them soon. “I hope so.”

“Yamato-kun. If someday...” your voice wavers, “if someday I were to return your feelings, would you still accept me?”

You know just how to play with his heart. Even so, he will take any chance that he gets. He grips your shoulders, staring into your eyes unblinkingly. “Yes. I told you I’ll wait.”

“Really?”

“How do you want me to prove it to you?”

You gaze at him. “Kiss me.”

Endo wants to cry. What is this game you’re playing now? Do you want to make sure he will never move on from you? To make sure he is so in love with you that he will do anything for you without hesitation? How much crueler can you be?

And how stupid is he?

He moves slowly, making sure that you’re not going to take back what you said. All you do is look at him with expectant eyes, not moving from your position, daring him to actually do it.

So Endo kisses you. And whatever doubts he has about his relationship with you disappears into thin air. All his rationale goes flying out the window. The electricity he feels when his lips move against yours can light a whole city.

You’re the first one to pull away, leaving him gazing at you helplessly.

“I’ll do it however many times you want.”

You merely smile in reply.

Well, you did warn him. But when has Endo ever let a warning stop him? You’re so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that even when the consequences of his actions leave him dying from a broken heart, Endo doesn’t think he will ever regret his choices.

TAKIISHI CHIKA -> SHE MAKES THE DEVIL WET HIS BED AT NIGHTTIME !

Takiishi isn’t used to chasing after people.

Even now, he tries not to show you how much he likes you. He knows you’re a sadist; he’s not blind to the long line of guys that you have left begging on their knees... and how you revel at their tears.

But Takiishi just can’t control himself when you get friendly with other guys. He knows that sometimes you do it purposefully. Why, he has no idea. Maybe you want to remind him that you’re able to leave him anytime, that he should stay on his knees for you.

Even without you testing him, Takiishi will always spend his lifetime begging for a fraction of your affection. He doesn’t care about what he has to do as long as he can be with you.

“Chika-kun.”

He already knows what you’re going to say next. “You know why I beat the shit out of him.” He states, getting up from his seat. “He loves it when you take care of his injuries. You know that.”

You sigh and close the door behind you. “Perhaps. Does that anger you?”

Takiishi wonders why you like to test his patience. No matter what you do, he can never bring himself to hurt you. He can’t even say anything that might offend you.

“Why do you not like me?” Takiishi questions, “Yet, you still linger around me. Why?”

He doesn’t even dare to slam the wall next to you, opting instead to cage you with his arms.

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“You..”

“I like you, Chika-kun.” There’s sincerity in your voice, but you’re not done. “It’s just that.. I also like Yamato-kun, Hajime-kun—”

“Stop.” Takiishi growls, “Do you want me to beat all of them to a pulp? You know that’s what I will do every time you say their name in my presence.”

“And give Yamato-kun another reason to spend more time with me? Make me visit Hajime-kun until his wounds are completely healed? Because you know they will let you throw that punch,” you whisper in his ear sweetly, “so I can take pity on them.”

Takiishi wants to scream, but no sound came out.

“But you will always win, Chika-kun. You’re the strongest fighter, after all. With no wound to dress, who will take pity on you?”

God, you’re mean today.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he did, or what to say. He just wants you to stop being so cruel.

You laugh. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you hug him, feeling his arms immediately snaking around your waist to pull your closer. You let him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Oh, Chika-kun. How can I ever leave you?”

“Don’t.”

If anyone were to see the Takiishi Chika, speaking so softly and acting so defeated, his reputation would’ve crumbled to the ground. Thankfully you’re not just anyone— you’re the only weakness he has, the one thing he will never let go.

No matter how bloody his hands get, he will make sure to take care of your long line of guys so that he will be the last man standing.

[primluvsbob]

in honor of thunderbolts finally releasing and the fans finally getting old avengers ffs, here’s my little take on some head canons!!

♫ — nothing’ s gonna stop us now - starship

YELENA

— i can honestly see yelena become weirdly obsessed with plants. there would be plants on every windowsill in the campus. her fav would definitely be the tiny succulents. bob would probably ask why shes so into them, and yelena would shrug, give some bland answer like, “they look nice.” but really, it’s because for once, she can hold onto something fragile in her hands and know exactly how to take care of it. something that stays. just like the thunderbolts did.

— has soft spots for animals (as we can clearly tell in thunderbolts when she took the guinea pig with her). if she finds a stray cat wandering around close to campus, she’d give them food and water for the rest of their lives. would most likely take it into the campus too.

— yelena and bob have a tradition that whenever they’re feeling down they watch baking shows together. it usually always ends in the duo trying to make some sort of bread from scratch at 2am.

— since the thunderbolts would all have their own hobbies… yelena didn’t want to be the odd one out and found peace in puzzles. not the small ones that are 100 pieces… but the ones that are 1000 pieces. she’ll sit there for hours in total silence.

BUCKY

— there’s definitely low jazz music playing all throughout the campus, and it’s all bucky’s doing. no one really complains, it becomes kind of comforting, especially when they get back from a particularly draining mission.

— the thunderbolts are the family that bucky always deserved. therefore, whenever one of them gets injured, he seems calm, but deep down, he’s already spiraling, running every worst case scenario in his head. it takes everything in him not to hover 24/7 until they’re okay again.

— he’s the teams handy man. leaky sink? squeaky door? outlet not working? he already noticed and is taking care of it.

— gets way too competitive during board game nights. like, way too serious. bob usually ends up playing mediator because the entire team is just as competitive as bucky is. who’s the final person to flip the board?? it probably switches every weekend.

BOB

— always has one of those massive stanley's in hand and is annoyingly good at reminding people to stay hydrated. "have you had water today yet?" is his catchphrase.

- legos... don't even mention the word around him unless you're prepared to lose an hour of your time. he'll tell you about the latest set he built, exactly how many pieces it had, and how long it took (with yelena as his self appointed timekeeper).

- loves survival games like minecraft, raft, and terraria, and is constantly trying to convince the rest of the team to join him. so far, the only one who's caved in is alexei. alexei definitely died in the games more than five times but bob refuses to lose hope now.

— bob calls everything with pronouns. he sees a tree? "oh, she's so pretty!" a nice car? "he's cool." a really good painting? "she's perfect." at first, the team teased him relentlessly about it but the longer they were around bob, the more it rubbed off on everyone else. now alexei's out here saying "she's a beaut!" about their new flatscreen tv, and ava casually refers to their new mission van as "she" like it's the most normal thing ever. bucky was the only one who didn't pick up on the habit, until bob caught him one day, muttering "she's good." about his motorcycle. bob hasn't let him live it down since.

AVA

— ava is always cold, which explains why she’s constantly stealing hoodies from certain people. she’s usually bundled up in blankets and scarves, especially the one alexei made for the whole team. she takes care of that scarf like it’s part of her lifeline.

— an avid coffee hater. john once accidentally handed her a cup of coffee instead of tea, and she didn’t speak to him for a full week. but, of course, he had no idea… totally.

— constantly scares people since her footsteps are basically silent. bob swears she’s doing it on purpose because it’s always him that jumps, but really… he’s just the only one jumpy enough to get caught off guard every single time.

— secretly the best at remembering birthdays and little anniversaries. she’s the reason the team always has a card or small gift ready in time. every card is picked out by her, and she’s the one making sure the whole team signs it.

ALEXEI

- gets OBSESSED with musicals after a certain someone (yelena) makes him watch wicked. is honestly convinced that he could be a broadway star... his fav musical would probably be hadestown.

— he strikes me as someone who'd be scarily good at card games. everyone's definitely convinced he's cheating.

- if you've seen alexa and katie then: remember that one episode where alexa's dad became obsessed with making the perfect brisket and stayed up hours straight just for it to be perfect for his daughter... yeah alexei would do that for yelena.

- learns how to knit over the year just so he can make the thunderbolts matching scarves to wear for the holidays. <3

JOHN

— a neat freak... if someone misses their chore of the day, even if it's barely past 6am, he's already halfway through doing it. grumbles about how "no one around here cleans up after themselves." but secretly? he kind of loves being productive. and having everything exactly the way he likes.

- hates texting. he's dry all the time, and usually is just straight to the point. his emoji rotation is limited to: 👍, 👎, 👋, and 👌

- acts like he doesn't care about team movie nights but is always the one to show up with an armful of snacks, and sits through the whole movie with minimal complaints.

— he owns exactly one hoodie. it's the perfect size, just the right amount of fluffiness, but still breathable. and somehow, it's always missing. one day yelena's wearing it, the next it's draped over bob's chair, alexei uses it as a fashion choice (wrapped around his waist), ava claims to borrow it for five minutes, bucky acts like he doesn't care but he's definitely stolen it more than once when no one's looking. john never actually brings up the situation... so, its become tradition at this point.

EXTRA:

— everytime one of the thunderbolts gets a new plushie, they always name it after someone on the team.

[noahwylie]

I wanna lay out everything about the robbycollins relationship because the timeline is confusing and they fascinate me

Explicit canon info:

Adamson died in September 2020.

The single shift takes place in September 2025.

Dana tells Collins that Robby hasn’t worked this day in four years because it’s the anniversary of Adamson’s death, and that he might be a little prickly that day, but to give him a pass because he’s still blaming himself for it.

Collins is in her 4th year of residency, which means (if they go by how residents usually start their year in July) she started as an intern in July 2022.

Collins says “We [her and Robby] dated, briefly, a million years ago. Never again.”

At some point during this brief dating period, Robby got her pregnant.

Collins “gave up on him.”

She aborted without telling him because she wasn’t ready to be a mom and wasn’t even sure about the relationship.

He never knew until she told him.

Collins has done IVF on her own at least twice since then.

Two of the gossipiest nurses, who were working in the ER at the time of their relationship, don’t appear to know that Robby and Collins had a relationship at all.

Apocryphal info (stuff the creators have said but isn’t explicit canon)

This is Collins’s second career.

Robby’s relationships tend to last around six weeks because he has a hard time opening up to people emotionally.

Adamson’s death was part of the reason Robby and Collins broke up.

So based on this, I’m going to make some inferences. This is all technically my headcanoning, but it is based on the above info.

For Adamson’s death to affect their relationship, they were probably dating in the second half of 2020, maybe early 2021; meaning Collins was likely an MS3 when she and Robby were dating and not his direct employee. Collins’s statement that they “dated briefly” lines up well with Noah’s assessment that Robby’s relationships have an expiration date of about six weeks. (Since he was obviously with Janey for much longer than that, I assume that relationship took place entirely before Adamson’s death; and therefore, that death is likely a major reason his relationships no longer last beyond two months.) I assume also that Collins is not aware of the significance of Adamson’s death to Robby, because Dana has to explicitly warn her about why Robby might be off today.

So if Collins was not aware of the extremely psychologically damaging effect of Adamson’s death until Dana told her five years later, and Robby had no idea Collins was ever pregnant or that she aborted the fetus until she told him five years later… That does not speak well at all of their communication skills with each other on a personal level (though professionally they seem to work well together). It also doesn’t give me a picture of a deep, strong relationship; based on all of this, plus the fact that Perlah and Princess don’t know about them dating, this relationship feels, to me, like barely more than a fling. And as I’ve said before, Collins gives Moved On to me; like, even beyond my interpretation of her demeanor in their interactions, it’s canon that she’s attempting IVF alone. She wants to be a mother now, but NOT with Robby. I think she enjoys the occasional flirtation (see her little smile when Robby admits to trying to impress her) but that’s as far as it goes for her.

I think Robby’s behavior can be interpreted many different ways, but the way I interpret them is that he still wonders What Could Have Been. I don’t think they ever got far enough that either of them actually fell in love; but he feels there was potential there that got lost. And he sort of plays in the space of being her friend and boss and ex-lover all at the same time and he’s awkwardly trying to set her up on dates, and also still flirting a bit, and giving her leeway to work on her own.

I dunno, they are interesting to me because their relationship is sort of undefinable. It’s not really romantic, at least not anymore, but it’s also not really platonic; it’s professional but it also crosses that boundary in big ways. They have this weird combination of like, knowing each other very very deeply in one sense but in another sense not really knowing each other at all. As a sidenote: I wonder what Collins’s confession will do to that dynamic, because Robby seemed pretty torn up about it. Like the confirmation that there was in fact a Could Have Been and Collins didn’t want it… that’s painful.

[burntsora-deactivated20203]

i think i accidentally posted this in a community last time but it's open now for rbs

dannymay 2025 again ! prompt 8 this time to make up for missed days. I'm slowly but surely catching up :')

DAY 8 -- Prompt: Lost

author: burntsora

length: 1207 words

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65441422

only registered users can read it on ao3

“Danny, don’t you think you should be more careful when exploring a bunch of portals in the Ghost Zone?”

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ll be fine!”

Tucker pursed his lips in disapproval while Sam just sighed. They were in the Specter Speeder while Danny was flying beside the machine. Sam was flying the Speeder while Tucker was updating his digital map of the Ghost Zone.

Sam gave Danny a look from inside before she looked back to where she was flying. “We just think you should maybe not fly into portals without something holding you back. Like a rope.”

“Sam, I’ll be fine, really. If anything happens, I’ll just fly my way back, or another portal will open like usual, and I’ll be back in no time!”

“Danny, we’re just worried for you.”

Danny sighed. “I know, I know. But I can handle myself! Come on, don’t you think so too?”

Tucker looked towards him, pausing in his work. “I never said we don’t, but we don’t know where or even when these portals could take you!”

Danny could feel himself starting to get annoyed. Didn’t his friends think he knew that? He could handle himself just like he always did. There wasn’t too much of a worry. “Look, it’ll be fine, just like I said. Watch, I’ll go into portal and come right back out,” he said, pointing at a stable green portal some distance from them.

“Danny, wait!”

Before his friends could do anything, Danny went through the portal. It was dark wherever he could see—And colder than anything he’s ever felt. He couldn’t feel anything but the biting cold, and he couldn’t see anything around him.

Including the portal that was supposed to be behind him.

“Guys?” Danny could feel the word form and come out of his mouth, but he couldn’t hear a single thing. He turned around, eyes wide as he searched for a sign of anything or anyone, but there was nothing. That’s ok, though. Right? Yeah, a portal’s going to open up again right where we was and he’d go back and listen to his friends when they said to use a rope next time. Yeah. Good thinking, Danny. Just don’t go too far and you’ll be back home in no time.

(Good thinking, Danny. Going through a random portal with nothing holding you to the zone).

He floated around in the same spot, trying to squint and see if there was anything he could see. After a bit he managed to see a very, very faint flicker in the darkness. Should he fly there? It seemed a bit far, but he could get there in no time. But what if another portal opened up?

He waited where he did for another 15 minutes before he started flying over to the light.

He flew at a quick pace but the light didn’t look like it was getting any closer. He upped his speed until his was flying at his maximum before h noticed any difference. It felt like hours had passed until he got close enough to see what it was.

It was a star. And a few planets. He was in space.

The star was bright and had a yellow tint to it, but it didn’t look like the sun he was familiar with. The planets were different, too. There were only five, and none of them resembled earth at all. There were only two rocky planets, and the other 3 were gaseous, and there wasn’t an ounce of familiarity to them.

Danny tried to drudge up all of the space knowledge he had and could remember that Alpha Centauri was the closest solar system to Earth, but Alpha Centauri had 3 suns. This one only had one.

He was lost in the middle of space.

Danny could feel himself tremble as he began to fly away from the solar system, picking one direction and sticking to it in case he needed to get back to it. He flew as fast as he could, trying his best to find his way back. If he kept flying, he’s bound to see something he recognised, right?

(He knew space was practically infinite. He could fly forever and get nowhere. He could be lost for eternity).

Danny kept flying, and flying, and flying for a while and before he knew it, he was encased in darkness again. There was a constant sense of unease that was detectable under the panic. The knowledge that he was lost and the deeply human instinct that he didn’t have any idea what was out here. And he was scared.

But he would get back home in no time, right? He was one of the most powerful ghosts in existence! And with the erratic nature of the Ghost Zone, another portal is bound to open sooner or later!

A while later, he wasn’t as sure that it would open soon. He had no sense of time and only himself as company. He wasn’t as sure that a portal would open soon. If he was being completely honest, it was entirely random. He could be out here for another fifteen minutes before another portal opened.

Or fifteen years.

Regardless, Danny kept flying. Could it be called flying if he was in space? It would be more like floating. Or simply moving.

Danny kept moving while he tried not to lose his mind.

He couldn’t shift back to human form no matter what. He’d either end up dying a second time or get put through pains he couldn’t begin to imagine. He started talking to himself out loud after a while. He couldn’t hear anything, but the feeling of his vocal cords being used was somewhat comforting. And if he used his imagination hard enough, he could kind of hear himself. That wasn’t a sign of him going crazy, right?

As Danny kept flying to himself, he tried remembering all the space facts he knew. He wanted to be an astronaut before the accident. He guessed he kind of got that dream completed now, huh?

He could feel dread pool in his lower gut as time passed. There was still the hope that he’d find a way out soon. That he’d get back home in no time. But a different part of him knew that there was a very real possibility he’d be here for a long, long time.

Danny passed more solar systems as he flew. A few exoplanets here and there. A handful of large meteoroids. Eventually a new emotion made its way into Danny’s head.

Acceptance.

He flew into the portal without thinking and this was the consequence. He’d be out in the middle of space—possibly forever—with no hope of returning home. Maybe someday Clockwork would call him for a favour, but he wasn’t certain about that.

He kept flying through the darkness, cataloguing things he saw. He stopped trying to think of how much time had passed since he was teleported here and accepted his fate. There were still times when he cried to himself when in the darkness and cold of space, but eventually those moments grew further and further apart.

He was lost, and he was ok with that now.

(Right?)

[agattthaa]

Lately, we've been makin' out a lot

Not talkin' 'bout the stuff that's at the very heart of things

Do you want children? Do you wanna marry me?

[eraserbread]

that first trimester was terrible... but, your husband, nanami, swears the second one is personal

"kento?" you whisper, shaking his wide frame in your arms. he worked all day, so he has every right to his sleep, but you couldn't calm the throbbing between your legs. it's come back with a vengeance after your time in the shower this morning with him, and now you couldn't settle. kento doesn't budge.

"please." you try again, whining in his ear and squeezing the flesh of his chest. "I love you so much... p-please." beads of cold sweat have began to form on your skin, reacting to the throbbing deep inside of you.

where you can't see, kento opens his eyes at once. remaining stoic in your arms. you're humping against his leg, whining sweetly into his back. he lets you, too tired to move.

"can we do it? please?" kissing over his rippling back, the skin blooms red in the darkness of the night bedroom.

if he were a bit more awake, kento would understand and be a bit sweeter, but he was exhausted. "this can't wait until the morning?" he grumbles, still so thoughtful and quiet in his daze.

you won't lie and say his tone didn't strike you, so instead of kissing him again, you press your forehead into his shoulder and pull away.

swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you take a second to catch your breath, whining softly in your throat as the change of position makes your core tremble and cry out for help. you're crushing your thighs together, head hanging between your shoulders as kento drifts back off.

overcome, horny and emotional, you start crying. sniffling and hiccuping in your fist. It felt like every vein in your body was screaming for release, and it's painful.

of course, kento can't truly fall back asleep when you're crying next to him, pitiful and whiny because you refuse to bother him further. he'd have to bother himself, he comes to terms when he sits up, peeling his eyes open again.

"don't cry, now i feel bad." he's muttering, closing his palm over his face to rub some sense back to his features.

"g-go back to sleep." you whimper, wiping at your tears just for more to fall. "I'm sorry, I hate bothering you."

"come here, it's fine. i know what you need." kento refuses to look at a clock -- he refuses to see how much sleep he's losing. it's a problem he'd face five hours from now, not when you're a sniffling mess at his bedside.

"really?" there's a tinge of hope there, excitement buried under your pitiful tone as you turn over your shoulder. he's shirtless, staring back at you through the dim moonlight. hair ruffled, eyes low, lips pressed together. grumpy and sleepy. but, as your eyes trail down his body, you can see the hardened lump in his underwear, peeking from the blankets.

you crawl to him.

straddling his lap is so familiar, kissing down his neck - letting your sweet skin drag across his shaved stubble feels right. he's genuinely letting you do all the work right now, yawning every few seconds as you attack another area of his skin in kisses.

you're starving -- grinding on his thick erection with a drunken fervor. he thinks your eagerness is cute, endearing in the right situations. not when he's so tired.

and you see that just enough to take advantage of it.

sure, he was dozing off, but the second he feels your teeth latch around his nipple, he's shooting them open.

"now, this is just pointless," he grunts, closing his hands over your hunched shoulders as you're sucking and biting at his reddening nipple. you're moving like you're trying to spout milk from him -- left hand massaging his left pec.

"nooo. i wanna."

kento's pulls a hand back to his face, bunching it in a fist as he lets you have your way. if you weren't five months pregnant, he'd throw you back down on the bed and press you so stupid with his cock that you had no choice but to cum, then fall right back asleep.

so, yes -- this was a sticky situation. he wouldn't manhandle his pregnant wife. not without a dangerously guilty conscience to deal with in the morning.

but once you had your fill, pulsating lips switching from nipple to swollen nipple, laced with a handful of his thick, delicious muscle, you pull away and kiss lower. that little dip in attention has kento wrapping his arms around your waist, digging his fingers into the skin as he grabs and pushes you off of him.

you squeak, not expecting such a drastic change. laying out on your side, arms splayed to catch some footing, he's kneeling over you. a hand shoves into the front of his briefs, swallowing a groan as his suffocated cock springs free.

"would you just behave?" that patience is dwindling now as he crawls in behind you. he's shivering slightly, teasing the bead of pre back against the flushed tip of his cock. you're flicking between the lewdness and the look on his face, heart pummeling when you see him bite over his bottom lip.

"y-yes... please put it in." your voice is wrecked, lips tingly and red. he mounts you, long legs splayed behind as he blindly makes that familiar descent between your thighs, trailing against your ass and dipping into your sopping, messy cunt.

he sighs, neck twitching as you slurp him up like you've never been fed before. pregnancy sex is just so different -- so lewd with you and your crying body. there's so much fluid, a mess of slick coating yours and his thighs.

so, it takes nothing -- i mean, nothing, for him to coax that first messy orgasm out of you, and you're squirting everywhere. screaming his name like you're on the verge of death, and he's the culprit.

his big hand clenches onto one of your thighs, fucking you into the wet sheets like a dog as he eases all that cum out of you.

when you're done and dumb with pliancy, you're rolling back over kento when he settles in his spot. your side of the bed is soaked, so you spend all night sleeping right on top of him, belly smushed into his and legs twisted together.

you would definitely hear about this uncomfortable situation tomorrow before he shrugs off to work. you'll also definitely jump his grumpy, tired bones as soon as he steps foot through the front door that evening. you're smiling at nothing anymore, finally satiated and sleepy enough to drift off to dreams about kento and your baby.

[flowercrowncrip]

Are we really doing the bus arguments again? The vast majority of people who give wheelchair users grief over use of the wheelchair space are not doing so because they have a disability buggy. They’re doing it because they don’t think wheelchair users should have access to public transport if it means they have to spend a moment moving their child’s pram. Believe me, we can tell the difference.

I got on a bus once and asked a couple to please move their buggy to the other side of the bus so I could use the wheelchair space (the only space a wheelchair user can travel in, and with a huge yellow sticker explaining that it’s legally reserved for wheelchair users and anyone else will be asked to move is a wheelchair user needs the space).

I wasn’t even asking them to get off the bus, just to move their child a few feet to the space on the other side of the bus, that was also closer to where they were sitting. Somehow they felt that was unreasonable and yelled at me that I shouldn’t have boarded the bus, and couldn’t I see the space was taken, was I stupid blah blah blah

After that didn’t make me go away, they then tried to pretend like it was never actually their child and said I’d have to ask the “real parents” because they wouldn’t move a baby that “wasn’t theirs”.

Unsurprisingly no one else claims the child (who is very obviously travelling with the yelling couple), so the bus driver has to get involved and say he can’t move the bus with a wheelchair not in the wheelchair space and that if there’s an unaccompanied toddler on the bus then that’s a very serious situation. After the weirdest five minutes ever the couple eventually realise the bus driver is being very serious and no one is moving until this is sorted. So they have to admit that actually it was their child all along and move them to the other side of the bus which takes all of five seconds.

They would literally rather temporarily disown their own child than take five seconds to allow a wheelchair user access to the same public transport they take for granted.

Compare that to another time I got on the bus, went to ask the person in the wheelchair space to move their buggy only to see that the buggy is adapted to carry an oxygen tank (and probably other stuff) and has one of those “my child is disabled, please treat this buggy as a wheelchair” tag on it. I let the parent/ carer know that I didn’t realise it was a disability buggy and hope she has a good day before asking the driver to let me off because there’s already a wheelchair user on board and it’s first come first serve.

Just, please don’t use hypothetical disabled people to invalidate and talk over real disabled people talking about the real issues we face.

[starpens]

୨୧ㅤִㅤׄ COUGH SYRUP ― GOJO SATORU.

satoru is a bit of an idiot who will do anything to get you to speak to him after an argument.

𓈒 ݁ ₊ content ﾉ fem reader, clingy satoru, established relationship, mild argument, fluff, not proofread, randomly started missing my boy :( <3

satoru can’t function when you’re upset with him. 

he knows he should be an adult about it — he is an adult, after all. he should give you space, let you simmer down. most people do not do things such as send one hundred and fifty text messages (he counted each of ‘em; you left him on read one hundred and fifty two times. who does that?) to your phone while you’re in the middle of grocery shopping and they most definitely do not take a sick day because their significant other is mad at them. 

 but then again, satoru isn’t like most people. 

which is why he’s currently sprawled out on the sofa in the middle of the day, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket — one that still smells faintly of your perfume. tissues litter the coffee table and floor around him, an unconvincing movie set of misery. call him manipulative, but it’s the only thing he’s got left in the tank since, for the last seventy-two hours, you haven’t spoken more than five words in a sentence to him. 

you’re his main source of enrichment, his brain stimulated by your sweet kisses and good loving so when you take that away, you’re stripping away his heart and soul. he’s got nothing left. he might as well die.  

in satoru’s brain, he figures that surely, if he’s coughing up a lung, you’ll feel bad for him and start talking to him again. in sickness and in health, right? 

by the time you walk through the front door after making a quick run to the supermarket for groceries, he’s in full performance mode, clutching his stomach with a groan. 

the sound is so realistic that you feel a sudden stab of worry, wondering if he’s injured. rushing into the living room, you find all six foot three of your boyfriend balled up on the sofa, looking like walking death. 

or trying to, anyway. 

“satoru?” you ask, eyebrows arching as you set your grocery bags down on the floor, taking out your phone and glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “why are you home? it’s eleven am.” 

“baby,” he groans pitfully, looking up at you. his glacier blue eyes are red rimmed and shimmering suspiciously — like he squeezed them shut repeatedly until he got the desired effect. satoru sniffles for good measure, huddling into the blanket. “i’m sick,” he announces, his lower lip wobbling, dragging out the last syllable like it physically hurts him to say it. 

“sick? you seemed fine when i left this morning,” you say, taking a step forward. you reach out a hand, pushing back his wintery locks to check for a fever. his skin feels normal, cool to touch even. your eyes narrow. you’re dubious — satoru never gets sick, yet it is his favorite act whenever he’s in the doghouse and wants attention. that, and he’s a terrible actor. you purse your lips, irritated. this is what he does instead of just apologizing? 

“i wasn’t fine emotionally,” satoru whines back. “i’m heartbroken here. it’s debilitating my health rapidly.” 

your expression doesn’t budge and satoru’s pout deepens when he realizes you’re not buying it. he clutches the blanket tighter around his big body, exaggerating a shiver for good measure. “you’re my life force, angel. my happiness. my —”

“stop it,” you interrupt and hold up a hand, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. you’re mad at him — you are. “but let me get this straight. you called out of work because i wasn’t talking to you?” 

“it was a medical emergency. do you have any idea what it’s like to go hours without hearing you voice?! without seeing you smile at me? you wouldn’t even let me use your body wash last night so we could share the same scent. i barely survived the night. any longer and i’d be a goner,” he sighs dramatically, then remembers he’s supposed to be on his last leg and hacks, phlegm rattling in his throat. 

“you’re obsessed,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to hold firm. but your damned heart has selective memory and it is making an appearance again, rapidly forgetting why you’re still mad at him. oh, you had a right to be upset over what he did, but it seems insignificant now when he’s in front of you, groveling like a servant at a throne. 

“angel, come on,” he presses, sitting up on the sofa and reaching for your hand, hurt flashing bright across his eyes when you step out of range. if you let him pull you down on that sofa with him, he’ll sweet talk his way into you forgiving him without consequences. he’ll do that anyway, but you won’t make it easy for him. “i’ll do anything to make it right.” 

“don’t angel me. you can’t just manipulate me into forgiving you with your big pretty eyes,” you wag your finger at him. “i bet you don’t even know what you did.” 

“i know, but it’s working, ain’t it?” he grins, shamelessly dropping the congested tone in his voice. “and i know what i did,” he scoffs. “you’re mad at me about that thing.” 

yes, that thing.

two nights ago, your body pillow — your very expensive, weighted body pillow which happened to have a giant render of your boyfriend on it, went missing. you’d commissioned it to have something to cuddle with on those nights when satoru is away on business and you miss him in your shared bed an unhealthy amount. you’d become a little too attached to it, though, while satoru wanted nothing more than to burn it. 

“he has a name,” you hiss, swatting satoru’s knee as you struggle not to laugh. “don’t call mr. comf-toru-ble a thing! he’s sensitive.” 

“see?” satoru says, scrubbing a hand over his handsome face before gesturing around wildly. “you even named it.” 

you give him a sharp look. “he cost me an entire paycheck— an entire paycheck that three days ago, you gave to the garbage collectors because i was cuddling him instead of you!” 

“i was feeling neglected!” he defends, voice pitching higher in his affront, placing a hand on his chest. “you spent the whole night with it. meanwhile, i— your husband— was right there, cold and alone. i can’t let me steal my wife.”

“we’re not married, satoru,” you remind him, then pout. “unlike my husband, the pillow doesn’t hog the covers, snore, or throw out things that i really like.” 

“it’s not hogging the covers, it’s redistribution of them for my comfort,” he grins playfully, but upon seeing your serious expression, he concedes, sobering up. in truth, he knows he messed up and went too far. it was childish to throw out something that you bought because of his frequent bouts of absence. maybe if he was around more, you wouldn’t need to cuddle with body pillows that look like him. “look, baby. i’m sorry. it was a moment of weakness. it’s not everyday i gotta be in competition with myself, but i’ll make it up to you! i even ordered you another one.” 

“a moment of jealousy, you mean,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your tone now.

“hey, you gotta see it from my perspective though. it’s kind of crazy seeing you cuddle with a pillow that looks like me when the real thing is right here,” satoru gestures down the long line of his body, though it looks more comical than inviting when he’s wrapped like a overstuffed burrito in your throw blanket.

“mm,” you nod, “well, maybe if the ‘real thing’ is a good boy, i’ll cuddle him more often.” 

“deal,” he answers immediately and when his muscular arms shoot out from behind the blanket and reach for you this time, you let him. his arms circle around your waist, pulling you into his lap. it was just a few days of silent treatment, but satoru wastes no time tucking his face against the dip of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent like you’re something precious and rare he lost ages ago and is just discovering again after eons. 

he’s squishing you, he knows it, but god he hates it when you’re mad at him — and you, in return, hate being at odds with him too. you both make too much sense to each other to be apart, and there’s upset in the balance of the world when the two of you are in an argument. 

“worst seventy-two hours of my life,” satoru blows out a breath of relief, the air tickling the hair at the nape of your neck, drawing a shiver down your spine. “never do that to me again, angel. you hear?” 

“don’t throw out my customized satoru merch again and i won’t, baby,” you coo, smiling. 

“you’ll still choose me over the other guy though, right?” 

“we’ll see, ‘toru, we’ll see,” you answer playfully, yelping when he darts in to nip at your ear in retaliation.

getting comfortable in satoru’s lap, you lean in to put the both of you out of your miseries and forgive him with a kiss when you get a whiff of menthol and childhood memories wafting from his chest.

 “are you wearing vaporub?”

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[txttletale]

imagine if you like bought a house and the realtor that sold you the house came by and did maintenance every couple months and it was a pretty good arrangement until one day they stopped doing maintenance and things started breaking them and you called them up and they were like 'surprise! we've decided what this house is really missing is a pool so we're going to build a whole new house for you that has a pool we are so excited about this pool' and you were like 'is this a deflection from your sexual harassment lawsuit you're involved in' and they were like 'the pool is going to be so cool!' and hung up and you didn't hear from them for years and then they called you up again and were like 'good news! we've built the new house, why don't you move in' and you were like 'oh, the one with the pool?' and they were like 'wellll yeah but we haven't actually installed the pool yet but when we do it's going to totally transform how you live in your house so you can see the value' and you were like 'i don't know i think i'll stay in this one' and they were like 'hmm yeah sorry actually you can't we're blowing the old house up with dynamite' and you were like 'what? why?' and they were like 'so that you're not split between your old house and the new one' and you were like 'um, fine' and you drove over to the new house and there was no pool or space for a pool and the realtor showed up to gave you the keys and you were like 'this house looks identical to the old one, i don't really understand why you did this' and they were like 'aha! you see, the old house had six rooms, this one has five!' and you were like 'that sounds worse, though' and they were like 'no you see with only five rooms it will be much easier to do maintenance on the house' and you were like 'but you haven't done that for months' and they were like 'yeah that was the old house which we've just blown up with explosives this is the new house' and you were like 'so how's that sexual harassment lawsuit going' and they leaped acrobnatically into their car like a trapeze artist and zoomed away and you went into the house and saw a coin slot on the bathroom door and called them and you could hear the background noise of a courtroom and they said 'yeah so you have to pay five dollars every time you use the bathroom now, it's our new monetization plan' and you were like 'well this is bullshit i feel like this house is just straight up worse' and they were like 'noo listen the pool is going to be so cool it's going to be so good we promise there'll be a diving board and a tiki bar and those water jets that give young people sexual awakenings' and you were like 'well okay' and they were like 'we've been building this pool for four years trust us it's going to be good' and then you didn't hear from them for a long long time except occasionally when they showed up to do maintenance and if you asked about the pool they just winked meaningfully and asked if you wanted to pay a $15/month fee for a bathroom pass giving you unlimited flushes and toilet paper. and this went on for a year until one day you got a voicemail 'dear resident. we're not going to build the pool lol' and you called them back like 'well what the fuck did you demolish my old house for' and they were like 'we actually gave up on the whole pool like two years ago but we did a whole announcement and it would have felt sooo awkward to walk it back' and you were like 'what the fuck have i been paying five dollars to use the toilet for over these last two years!' and they were like 'listen buddy if you don't like it you can buy the bathroom pass' and then they hung up on you . anyway that's what happened with overwatch 2

[lvrclerc]

✶ 15 YEARS IN THE MAKING

summary: oscar's home race is a big deal. however, what's even bigger is the realization that he has been in love with the childhood friend waiting for him at the finish line since the day he met her. it only took him 15 years, a thousand missed opportunities and a so-called mistake to realize it.

F1 MASTERLIST | OP81 MASTERLIST

pairing: oscar piastri x childhood bff!f!reader

wc: 11.3k

cw: aus gp 2025, unaccurate aus gp 2024 for plot purpose, use of y/n, slightly inaccurate timeline, kinda bittersweet/angsty at some point, otherwise fluff + hea

note: need to cradle that man in my arms and kiss him on the forehead, special mention to @cntappen who wanted yearning oscar, hope ur satisfied 🙏 i lowkey hate this but we carry on

soundtrack: ♫ something, somehow, someday - role model

OSCAR ALMOST DROPS his mug when Hattie tells him the news. “She’s coming to the race?”

His sister nodded, shifting from one foot to the other like she didn’t quite know where to put herself ─ which was uncharacteristic of her ─ and the first things going through Oscar’s mind were Did she know? How would she know? Did she tell her? “I texted her about it ‘cause she always comes to Melbourne. I was just curious. She said she’d be coming if she was welcome with us.”

His head was spinning. Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, Oscar chose his next words with calculated precision. “And you said…?”

“I mean, Mom said yes, obviously,” Hattie shrugged. “She loves Y/N. And she said it’s been a while since you two saw each other, might do you some good with stress and all that.”

Of course, his mom would say that. You had always been a second daughter for her, welcoming you in her home as if your place had always been next to Oscar on the living room couch. Hattie had been as enthusiastic as her, if a little confused at first, about who had developed such an attachment to her quiet, nonchalant brother. Ever since you and Oscar were children, as soon as he told his mother about the new girl next door who cut short his remote-controlled truck training on the playground, you had been included in every Piastri family dinner.

Because you were Oscar's whole world, his personal sun, the second you stepped into view ─ it would have taken someone mute, blind, and deaf not to notice it. He was just a planet, a satellite, orbiting around you in search of meaning.

Had been. Until almost a year ago.

And nobody knew except for him.

So Oscar swallowed down the lump in his throat.  “Okay, sure, that's cool,” he let out a breath. “I missed her.” The words pained him, as veracious as they were. He didn’t simply miss you like you’d miss someone you hadn’t seen in a while ─ Oscar missed you like an amputee would miss a ghost limb. The kind of pull that tears someone from the inside out, and he only had himself to blame for the ache.

If Hattie suspected something was off, she didn't say it. She chose to scrutinize him instead, eyebrows scrunched in a silent question he answered with a vague smile, as always. She spoke about how you hadn’t come to visit in quite some time, how he rarely updated them on how you were anymore, how you blossomed in your life, but the words went in one ear and out through the other.

Because you were going to the Melbourne Grand Prix, the start of the 2025 season. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing you again, not after the fiasco of the same Grand Prix, a year ago.

Guess he didn’t have much choice.

Oscar Piastri is eight when he meets you for the first time.

He was given his first remote-controlled truck for Christmas and ever since then, rare were the times he spent his full days at home. The playground, with a lot more ground than playthings for children, was a five-minute walk from his house ─ perfect for practicing, he thought. His newfound gadget made him develop a fervency he hadn’t known before, an obsession for speed. He knew Australia had championships for remote-controlled racing, his dad told him so. He wanted a part in it like he never wanted anything in the world before. Except maybe the truck.

But before he could hope of entering, he needed to get to a certain level and that meant practice. So to the playground (or park, park was a cooler word) he went.

Today wasn’t an exception. Vacations had started not so long ago, the sun was high in the sky and Oscar’s knees were raw from being dug in the gravel for so long. His thumbs were branded by the print of the remote in his hand, sweat beaded on his forehead, hair sticking to it, and maybe his vision was blurring a little. But Oscar was nothing if not determined, so he kept going as his truck narrowly avoided obstacles he put in place.

Until a water bottle replaced the self-made circuit in his visual field.

Oscar's eyes slowly trailed up in exasperation, expecting one of his younger sisters or his mother dotting on him, telling him to come back home. Instead, his breath caught a little.

You stood there, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, turning the loose strands of your hair into something almost otherworldly. Oscar had never believed in angels ─ never really thought about them at all, actually ─ but at that moment he wondered if maybe, just maybe they existed. Your sundress, once pristine, was rusted with dirt, the hem brushing against your scraped knees, blood dried in uneven patches. But you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you smiled ─ as if scuffed knees and torn dresses were just a natural part of being you.

His wide, brown eyes glided from the lukewarm bottle to you, in wonder and shock alike. Your palm was smudged in playground dust, but Oscar barely noticed ─ his gaze caught instead on the way light tangled in your hair, your eyes sparkling with something bright, untamed, unstoppable. You spoke up. “You look like you’re gonna faint. Take it. Drivers need water, right?”

Your voice, soft, shook him out of his trance: he hesitantly took the bottle from your hand, and your fingers brushed against his. Red colored the tip of his ears. He swallowed, hard, bringing the bottle to his chest. You offered him another smile in return, and Oscar felt his heart flutter.

“My name is Y/N.” Before he could even think about protesting ─ about telling you that, actually, he hadn’t asked ─ you plopped down beside him, legs folding underneath you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your shoulder bumped against his, a casual, thoughtless kind of closeness that sent a foreign heat to the back of his neck.

Then just as he was processing that, you turned to face him- too close. Way too close.

Noses. Your noses nearly touched.

Oscar went rigid. Did you know nothing about personal space?!

You pointed behind him, at the house right next to his, visible from the park. “I live right here!”

“...No, you can’t.” Oscar finally said, frowning. He was trying to be as polite as he could muster to be in those conditions. His mom would kill him if he wasn't.

“Why?”

“Nobody lives here.”

The aggressive neutrality of his voice, a timbre unique to him, didn’t deter you in the slightest. On the contrary, it seemed like his reticence to your presence made you beam brighter at him. “That’s because we just moved here, duh. See that car? It’s my mom’s.”

The indifference in Oscar slowly turned to confusion, or as close as it could get to curiosity. There was indeed a baby blue car parked in the driveway he never saw before. For as long as he could remember, which was not a lot, it was always vacant. Until today, apparently. “Oh. We’re neighbors, then.”

Your smile widened, eyes practically shining in excitement. “That’s so cool! I was scared I was gonna be the only kid here.”

Oscar barely heard you, too busy staring at where your arm pressed against his. Was it normal? Were other kids just… this close of each other? Because he wasn’t used to it, not at all. “... How old are you?”

“Eight!” You practically bounced as you said it.

“Me too.”

Your face lit up. Oh no.

“That’s even better! We can be friends! Best friends, even!”

Wait, what.

Oscar blinked, his mind screeching to a halt. That escalated fast. Weren’t there supposed to be multiple steps before deciding to be lifelong friends? Had he missed something? “Uh─”

“What’s your name?” You asked with renewed enthusiasm if it was even possible to add to that.

“... Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

“Nice to meet you Oscar Piastri from next door!” You held out your hand and, much to his surprise, Oscar took it. Hesitantly, awkwardly, yes, but he still did. The strange, unfamiliar feeling tugging at his stomach wouldn’t let him do otherwise. “I like your truck,” you continued, fingers still wrapped around his like you didn’t even notice. “Can I try it?”

Oscar was way too focused on your palm still sitting in his to process your words. Was he supposed to pull away first? “I… I don’t─”

“Or I could watch you! I don’t mind. I was watching you in the tree back there anyways.”

Oscar blinked. It explained the stains and the scratches, he thought. He still couldn’t believe that there was a whole girl like her in a tree, spying on him, and he had been so caught up by his remote-controlled truck to even notice it. Just as if you could read his thoughts, a sheepish look made its way to your face, lips pursuing as you finally ─ finally ─ let go of his hand. “Mom doesn’t like when I do that,” you admitted as if it were a secret. “But it’s fine. I can wash the dress.”

He stared. There was… something about you, Something about the way you sparkled even when you sat still, the way your presence felt bigger than your little body. He swallowed, nudging the controller toward you before he could regret his decision. “Try.” His voice came out weird. “It’s boring to watch.” 

The twinkling in your eyes was worth every crash that came after this. You were struggling, and hitting every obstacle he skillfully steered away from. Each and every hit was accompanied by a giggle or an exaggerated groan but even though you were terrible, as Oscar tactfully noticed, it still looked like you were having the most fun you had in years.

When he had to go home, you walked him to the door with a spring in your step, occupying the conversational space with random facts about the world. Something about how octopuses had three hearts, how clouds weren’t actually as soft as they looked, and how the color yellow made people happy. Oscar didn’t say much, he never really did, but he contentedly listened.

And then, just as the door swung open, before he could even process the way he wanted to stay a little bit longer, you turned to his mom with all the confidence of someone who had already decided the outcome. “Can Oscar come back tomorrow?” His mom barely had time to blink, but Oscar already knew─ it was over.

Because the moment she said yes, the second the fierce little girl beside him claimed more time with him like it was hers to take, it was sealed. After that, it came as naturally as breathing. Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. Never one without the other. You led, he followed. And, somewhere along the way, the rest of the world stopped mattering.

You were a constant in Oscar’s life, a lifeline he clung to without realizing he had reached for it in the first place. He got into karting at ten and nothing─ not his dad's last-minute pep talks, not the hours of practice ─ could calm the way his hands trembled on the steering wheel before his first race. His fingers curled on it, hands trembling and grip tight, knuckles aching from the pressure. What if he wasn’t actually good? What if he messed it all up? What if─?

And then, there you were. Signature grin, messy ponytail, a tiny hand sign scribbled in clashy, colorful letters: GO, OSCAR GO!! The words were surrounded by questionable doodles ─ stick-figure cars with lopsided wheels, a few stray hearts in the margins like an afterthought. “I came to watch you win,” you said, like there was no other possibility. After that, the race was just a race.

The moment you dropped a chaste kiss on his helmet, all nerves settled. When he passed by you, you brandished your sign high in the air, a beacon, the only thing he really needed to see. He won that race with his head held high and in the middle of celebration ─ his mom hugging him tight, cheers echoing all around ─ he silently dedicated his victory to you.

Because when he scanned the crowd, your eyes were the easiest to find. Because nothing ever felt better than the feeling of you running in his arms right after.

And just like that─ childhood blurred into early adolescence in a flurry of incandescent polaroids: late afternoon on track, whooping as Oscar made his laps, stolen moments on the swings at the playground between school and training, a thousand shared snacks, juice boxes, whispers, a million inside jokes and secrets. Summers spent side by side, laughter tangled in the air like something meant to last forever.

Years of Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. No space between. No questions about what you were to each other. Not yet. 

But Oscar Piastri is fifteen when he leaves you behind.

He had been offered a seat in Formula 4. The words came in a rush, tumbling from an ecstatic Chris Piastri and an equally thrilled Nicole Piastri, their voices nearly overlapping in excitement. Oscar heard them, he knew what they were saying and yet his mind refused to catch up. He sat there, cereal spoon dangling in the air, milk dripping back in his bowl.

The world around him blurred─ static in his ears, something like disbelief flooding his veins. He had wanted this. Trained for this. But now that it was real, it was as if his body had forgotten how to move. So you did it first.

Your arms wrapped around his neck without a second thought, squeezing tight. A hug that made it impossible to do anything but exist in the moment. He unfroze: the weight of your warmth, how you clung to him without any reservation, it yanked him back. His hands had found your back, gripping instinctively. It hit him all at once: Formula 4. His dream was real. And you were here, like always.

Until you wouldn’t be anymore.

Everything slipped past Oscar in a blur: he applied to a boarding school and got accepted in the same week, his parents were already looking for a house nearby, and his mom searching for job opportunities ─ in Brighton, England, closer to where he would be practicing. A thousand kilometers away from Australia, a thousand memories away from you.

One thing you learned in your years of friendship with Oscar was that he wasn’t much of a talker. He wasn’t big on the expression of feelings either ─ he showed affection softly, when he thought people wouldn’t notice. But you did, and you never planned on doing anything about it because that was just how Oscar was: reserved, hesitant in his tenderness. So the conversation about his departure never came ─ it was just a weight, hanging in the air of your every interaction, untouched. He didn’t want to venture there, to face how he wouldn’t wake up next to you anymore after another sleepover, how he would have to learn how to exist without you at arm’s reach. The lack of you was already digging a hole in his chest, and it was one of the main reasons he said no to your proposition of a send-off party.

But Oscar knew you too, too well, so he was only half-surprised when he turned on the light of his house after training and discovered the crowd of your shared friends amidst colorful balloons and cakes. You stood out in all of them when you offered him the smile that was uniquely his, and Oscar’s chest almost collapsed.

The party was fun. He got goodbye gifts ─ trinkets, plushies and books he knew he’ll lose sleep over. He didn’t dance to the music, but enjoyed watching people lose themselves in the soft light of his kitchen from the sidelines. Some friends cried and some friends didn’t ─ he side-hugged them all, never letting them too close except for a select few, and he accepted the heartfelt speeches with reassurances that he will come back during the summer, without a doubt.

The night slowed, party leftovers forgotten on the counters, and the house was quieter now that most of the guests had filtered out. Only a few stragglers remained inside, their voices dimmed to an unobtrusive murmur. But Oscar, the supposed star of the show, was hesitating in the threshold of his front door ─ because you were outside. And wherever you went, he followed.

You were sitting on the front door steps, arms wrapped around your knees, bathed in the dim glow of the porch light. The soft hum of cicadas filled the space as Oscar sat beside you. He knew he should say something, anything. Thank you for the party, even though he swore he didn’t want one. You were right, because of course, you were. Or finally address what was begging to be talked about ─ he just didn’t know how. Because sitting right here, with you just a few inches away, he realizes this is it. 

This is the last night before everything changes, and he can’t do anything about it. So he stays silent.

“You’re freaking out,” you say. Not a question. Your observant eyes flickered to his face, gaze soft in the way that makes his breath catch.

Oscar exhales sharply, tipping his head back against the wooden railing. “Am not.”

You give him a look. The look that always calls his bullshit. “Alright, I am.” He swallows, voice quieter. “A little.”

A pause. And then─ a nudge. Your knee bumping into his. A small, familiar thing, but somehow it unravels him. His eyes are burning, and he can’t pinpoint why. “You’ll be fine, Osc’’,” you affirmed, as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. “As long as you don’t forget about me.” A quiet laugh escaped you.

And Oscar could feel it, the thick air between you, pressing against his throat and sitting on his tongue. How could he ever forget about you? You were sitting so close, staring at him as if tucking him in some secret place inside of you. Oscar hated it, so much that it finally slipped─ “I don’t want to go.”

It came out quieter than he expected. Your lips parted slightly, brows furrowed, and Oscar felt like he said too much and not enough at the same time. Because he did want to go, but what he meant was, I don’t want to go if it means leaving you, I don’t know how to exist without you in my orbit. What he really meant, he couldn’t understand what it was no matter how hard he tried.

He forced out a chuckle, shaking his head. “I mean─” Oscar cleared his throat. “I do. Obviously. It’s just─ It’s gonna be weird.”

“Yeah, it is,” you murmured, flushing against his shoulder. “But we’ll make it work.”

Oscar looked at you, really did. The way the light caught the edges of your face, the night breeze playing with your hair, how you existed so beautifully and effortlessly, as you belonged in all the places he had ever loved. The words almost slipped out: You could come with me.

It was right there, clawing its way up his throat.

Yet, something stopped him. Because it wasn’t fair. Because he didn’t know what it meant. Because he didn’t know if he was asking like a best friend or something else, and he didn’t know what to do with the way you were constricting his chest, how you pressed against his ribcage, demanding more. You looked at Oscar and he looked at you ─ he swallowed it down, staring at the playground far in front of you. 

And the moment passed.

Oscar left the day after, and the empty house was now the one next to yours.

Your hotel room was eerily quiet.

You were never known for silence ─ all your life, people had repeatedly told you about the overwhelming space you occupied, how loud your laugh echoed, how you never quite knew how to fold and pocket yourself to be less. Growing up, adults meant it in an endearing way. Now, you realized just how much the words stung, even if you never took them as insults. But here, in the uncomfortable coldness of the room you rented for the week-end, everything was quiet: no music, no you talking to yourself. Nothing.

It felt unnatural ─ like something was missing. The one thing that always reassured you about the room you took up.

It left you restless, and your hands trembled a little as you finished applying the last layer of mascara on your lashes. Maybe it was just nerves ─ after all, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a race and hung out with Hattie, Edie, Mae, Nicole, and Chris. Ever since you moved out for university, the city of Melbourne and all of the memories it held always managed to make you a bit anxious.

However, deep down, you knew. It’s the fact that for the first time in over a year, you were going to see Oscar.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror as you dropped your makeup next to the sink. You couldn’t decipher your own expression.

Hattie texted you out of nowhere, and even though it wasn’t unusual for you two to talk from time to time, it surprised you a bit when she asked you if you were going to the Grand Prix. It shouldn’t have, she didn’t know ─ or maybe she suspected something, but you still said you’d be coming. So Nicole was on her way to pick you up and take you to the same spot you’ve been occupying since 2023, and you’ll have to sit and act as if everything was alright, as if her son was the best friend you grew up with and didn’t become an acquaintance overnight that you occasionally exchanged “good morning”, “good night”, “happy birthday” and “how are you doing?” texts with.

Because ever since that fateful night after the Melbourne Grand Prix of 2024, something shifted between you and Oscar. Something that had been weighing on you both for years, waiting, waiting, waiting- until it finally cracked, only to narrowly miss you. And now? You didn’t know his weekly schedule, and you couldn’t remember the last time you complained about your teachers to him. You and Oscar weren’t quite strangers, but you weren’t you anymore either. 

Because whatever had been waiting that night never had a chance to be resolved. And maybe it never would.

You shut your eyes, your breathing quickening dangerously. No. You weren’t going to think about that right now. It’s fine ─ you’re just here to watch a race like you always did. Just another race. It didn't have to mean anything more than that, did it? You’ll cheer, you’ll congratulate him, and you’ll leave. Even if it was his home race. Even if it was in the same city you laughed in his backyard, held hands running in the streets, stayed awake at ungodly hours of the night tangled together, the city you had both known and lost each other.

Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting─ what you even wanted this weekend to be. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to grasp at the last semblance of normalcy that used to be between Oscar and you, and if that meant showing up at the Melbourne race and praying for his car to see the checkered flag in pole position like the deepest parts of your heart weren’t screaming for him, so be it.

When Nicole called you to tell you she parked her car, you took a deep breath and walked to the elevator, carefully ignoring the sickening feeling of your stomach reminding you that, in Melbourne, there was no simply ignoring the past anymore.

Oscar Piastri is twenty when he tells you the news.

Five years have passed ever since he moved out of Australia, but no matter how the years stretched between then and now, racetracks and podium dreams, Oscar always made sure of one thing: that he’d come back. Back to his neighborhood, these streets, the quiet buzz of familiarity.

And back to you.

Time had tried its best to pull you apart with different schedules, different time zones, and places, but you two were still an unstoppable force. Y/N and Oscar. Oscar and Y/N. No matter how late the flights, how long the race weekends, how exhausting the training, he always called ─ even if it was past midnight, or he had to wake up in three hours, or he could barely keep his eyes open. Because your voice, distant and barely audible through the crackling of a bad signal, was home. And you always picked up.

Oscar missed it. He made friends in boarding school, a group of laid-back guys who filled the late hours with video games and terrible jokes, making his new world a little less foreign. He enjoyed their company, sure, but none of them were you. None of them could look at him and already know what he was thinking, like the syllables were etched in your bones, and they didn’t tilt their head up at the sky on a rusty swing set, taking him with them, and spun the world into something bigger. God, he missed that. He missed you.

Even though, sometimes, he wondered if you missed him just as much.

Obviously, since Oscar left, you had to build something for yourself in the space he left behind, and it only became more concrete when you enrolled in a university away from Melbourne. He tried to be happy for you when you did. But then you would tell him about a friend group he didn’t know the faces of, threading into the places he used to be and the places he’d never been, the ones he couldn’t visit with you like the café near your 10 a.m. lecture on Fridays. 

Sometimes, only sometimes, when he allowed himself to feel a bit more than he should, the scraps of emotions he usually denied himself ─ he was scared he didn’t belong in the new sphere you’ve constructed for yourself. That he was a dusty polaroid in a wooden box, waiting for the day you’d tuck him away.

But that had to be wrong. It had to be. Because the second your eyes found his as he stepped out of the airport, it was like nothing had changed. Like the months apart, the missed calls, the milestones he couldn’t be there for ─ none of it mattered.

The way you looked at him, like he was still your Oscar, the boy you always had known and always will, it made up for everything.

You had been there when Oscar graduated from Formula 4 to Formula 3. You had been right by his side when Formula 3 turned to Formula 2 the following year. Whether it be by phone or in person when the good news coincided with both of your trips to your childhood neighborhood. Your excited screech, your lips on his cheek twisting his stomach and painting his cheeks red, he figured it was just common sense for you to learn he’s been promoted a third time in person. He wanted to see your reaction.

Whenever you and Oscar came back, your mom would welcome you with open arms in your old home. There were only two bedrooms, one that was your mom’s, which used to be awkward for him before it became a common occurrence for you two to share a bed. Both your parents had forbidden it, but quickly gave up when you used to find a way to sneak into Oscar’s bedroom and keep him awake. Their resolve vanished entirely when they noticed quiet, untroubled Oscar started getting on it as well.

So there you were, twenty years old in your childhood bedroom, sharing a bed too small for your height. The window was half-opened, the air thick and unmoving, letting in the last shreds of sunset that danced across your skin in soft, golden streaks. You were facing each other, which allowed him to see your eyes flutter, heavy with exhaustion, your breathing slow and even as if the mere act of being near him was enough to let you rest.

Oscar flushed at that thought. You had spent hours driving just to come and get him, to fall in bed beside him, limbs tangled, words fading into the quiet comfort of home. Just to be here, with him.

He wanted to wait. Until your eyes were wide open and you were awake enough to react like you always did: in screams and hugs and plans of the future. But the warmth curling in his chest wasn’t allowing him to keep it from you any longer.

“I got a seat in Formula One,” Oscar announced in the silence of the room.

“What?” Your voice was hoarse from tiredness, but it didn’t stop your sharp gaze from snapping to his. Your lips parted, just barely, an inhale caught in your throat, and Oscar gets distracted.

He shouldn’t, not now, but─ he can’t help it.

How many times had he seen you like this? Sleep-heavy, warm with exhaustion, curled up beside him. Too many to count. Not once had it felt like this, like something heavier rested on his shoulders.

He repeats with a little difficulty, forcing himself back to the moment. “I got a seat in Formula One.” He swallows before precising, “Not Alpine. McLaren.”

You blinked. Once, twice, your brain catching up with the weight of his words. Then, before Oscar could brace himself, you were moving.

You crashed into him, as much as you could in the position you were, tucking yourself against his chest in the semblance of a hug. The pressure was nothing, still, the air was knocked out of his lungs. “You did it!” You whispered-yelled against his shoulder, voice trembling with emotion. “Oh my god, Osc’. You did it. I fucking knew you would.”

Of course, you knew. You always knew before Oscar did, before he even started believing in it himself. A scoff, wet with feelings, escaped him as his shaky fingers hovered over your ribs, processing the situation. You pulled back, just enough to look at him, pupils blown wide. The palm that wasn’t resting on his chest slipped up, featherlight, to cup his cheek. Oscar almost flinched. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but─”

“Don’t even start,” you interrupted him. “You’re going to be in Formula One! In McLaren! That’s huge, and─”

Realization hits you like a truck. “Oh my god, Daniel Ricciardo.”

Out of all the things that could have ruined the moment, Oscar wouldn’t have expected it to be Daniel Ricciardo. “Yeah,” he deadpanned. “Everyone loves Daniel. We get it. My mom said the same thing.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped you, and you shoved him a little. “Come on, it’s a shock for me!”

“It’s also pressure, but thank you so much for your consideration.”

“I congratulated you two seconds ago!”

“I’m sure Daniel would love your condolences even more.”

By that point, you were a giggling mess beneath Oscar’s hands, so much that the sound successfully got a few huffs out of him as well. The pressure of the news evaporated at each new chuckle out of your mouth, and the room was finally big enough to breathe.

Laughter died down, reduced to heavy intakes of air between half-sentences, and that’s when Oscar realized.

Your fingers, gently brushing over his cheekbones, nails grazing his skin. His palms capturing your sides as your thigh rested between his legs. He wasn’t pulling you in, clinging to you like he always did ─ instead, he froze. His heart was stuttering too fast, too loud, in a way that had nothing to do with the news he’d just shared and you simply stared at him, eyes sparkling, as if he handed you the World Driver’s Championship trophy right here and there. Waiting for something.

The heat of your body, your usual proximity, the soft cotton of the sheets did nothing to help the blood boiling in Oscar’s veins and thoughts spiraled in a blink, of what it would be like if he just let his hand roam a little lower, if your breath swept over his lips. 

Words lodged themselves in his throat, just like they did when he was fifteen, sitting on his porch. But this time, he knew. No pretense, no excuse. He was twenty years old, not a child anymore. He knew what these words were and what they wanted to be.

You could come with me. You could come to my races. You could stay. Stay with me.

His chest squeezed. His fingers twisted. His mouth stayed shut.

Because you had a life here. A life that, lately, felt like it had more and more spaces he didn’t fit into. What was he supposed to say? Drop everything? Follow me? Give up everything you built and choose me?

Oscar Piastri wasn’t a wishful thinker, he didn’t ask for things he wasn’t sure he could have ─ and he wasn’t sure he could have you. Not because he didn’t want to, he desperately wanted to, but because he still didn’t understand it. He didn’t get why you put that ache in his chest, the weight in his ribs. Why it was more painful to be away from you, to see you live without him, than his old friend group ─ he put the fault on nostalgia, but it wasn’t it. He had spent years trying to figure it out and still ─ still ─ didn’t have the answer.

So he did what he’d usually do when meaning escaped him. 

He buried it. He’ll take a look at it. He’ll figure it out later.

“Being in F1,” he cleared his throat. “It’s going to be harder, with the schedule and all that. But I promise─”

“You don’t need to,” you cut him off and Oscar noticed the light slightly dim in your eyes, then coming back like nothing happened. “We’ll make it work, we always do.”

You pulled back again, taking your hand with you and letting the cold air replace your touch. Somehow, Oscar knew he did something, but once more he didn’t know what. Instead, he let himself believe the moment was nothing more than what it had always been. Nothing more than you, his best friend, happy for him.

But as you fell asleep, the distance put by you larger than it ever was before, even by just a few millimeters, something inside of him whispered─ liar.

Oscar got in his car, and yet his mind was as far away from it as it could be. Walking out the garage, he had seen his entire family cheering for him, his mom dropping a good-luck kiss on his cheek, and he should be grounded in the moment. He should be basking in the cheers of his home crowd and the familiarity of Australian air opening his season, but he couldn't. Because there was no sign of you.

He had thrown a glance at Hattie, a silent question, and she simply shrugged. Oscar didn't know what that meant: if you excused yourself for a moment or didn't come at all. Which one he was hoping for, that was the question.

And so the formation lap started. The car was feeling good, great even ─ Oscar had done well during the testing rounds and free practices, even landing second place in qualifications right behind Lando. His chest had swelled with hope that maybe, just maybe, he could take on his home race. He brushed the podium last year, how far could he be from taking it with both hands this time?

He could hear his race engineer checking last minute details, the impatient buzzing of the crowd, the motor of his car warming up and flaring to life. It was a sound, a rhythm he could recognize eyes closed.

As the lap concluded, cars finally ready to live through 58 rounds, a streak of hair caught his eye.

If he could decipher the metre of a Grand Prix with his eyes closed, Oscar knew he could recognize the pattern of you before you even came into view. It was brief─ almost a blur, but it was more than enough.

Through the haze of rain-slicked asphalt and the relentless roar of the engine, he caught you. Standing with his family against the edge of the garage like you belonged there, which you did, hands clasped tight against your chest like you were the one in the car, navigating the turns for him. Your hair, wild from the wind, dampened by the drizzle, framing your face. God.

You came. 

After everything, you were really there.

For him.

Oscar pulled his car in P2, but the flickering red lights above him did nothing to calm his racing mind. You always watched his races like this: lived through them like they were your own. Somehow, that made it easier. The loneliness of battling against your own, the relentless push forward. You made it lighter, less suffocating. You always have been. And you were ready to watch him race again, after everything. His chest twisted, his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

And even in the current circumstances, Oscar wasn’t thinking about the race. Not at all.

For what he wished could have been the first time, but wasn’t, the car was filled with the thought of you.

Because it hits him. Like a crash, full speed, sparks flying. Why missing you hurt so much. Why, after a year of unnatural distance of swallowing down whatever had possessed him that night in Melbourne a year ago, he still felt like something lacked.

Oh.

And before he could process it all, it was lights out.

Oscar Piastri is twenty-two when he fucks it up.

The Melbourne Grand Prix didn’t go so badly, but it didn’t go well either. Oscar had been so close to getting a podium on his home race, and watching his colleague, his friend, receiving the applause of his home crowd left a bitter feeling in the back of his throat. He cheered and congratulated, because he was a good sport and genuinely happy for Lando, but the uneasiness didn’t leave him when the cameras turned off.

It was a sticky heaviness in his ribcage, glued to it like molten plastic, tightening with every half-smile and “good jobs” aimed at him. He should’ve been happy, ecstatic. But he just wasn’t.

So he forced himself to go out to celebrate anyway, even half-heartedly. He didn’t want to look like the asshole he really felt like, so he nodded at conversations he wasn’t listening to, let the bass drum against his skin in a club he didn’t even want to be into.

Oscar lasted maybe an hour.

The flashing lights felt too bright, the press of bodies too wrong for his current state of mind. The scent of alcohol curled in his nose, sharp and sour, and something in him was teetering to break the last agreeable bone in his body. As he got out of the club, he thought about how he wanted to be anywhere else but here, suffocating in his own unjustified frustration. 

The only place he wanted to be was with you.

He barely had time to see you before he got whisked away by his team and interviewers. He wanted to tell you about the race, about what he thought, because you were the only one he enjoyed being listened to by, the only one it didn’t feel awkward. No matter how much he tried to shove things down, to ignore whatever it was that had been thrumming under his skin- you were still the first person he reached for. So before he could really think about it, he’d already dialed your number. “Hey, I’m sorry, I know─ Can you hear me? Yeah? Alright. I know it’s late but… can you pick me up?”

And of course you did. Because you were Oscar and Y/N. Y/N and Oscar. Because no matter where or when─ when Oscar called, you always came.

Your car was in front of the building not even ten minutes later, and he got in. His favorite music on the aux, he smiled at the attention, easy conversation started flowing between the two of you as you drove to the driveway of your house. You didn’t ask why he left. You knew he’d talk about it when he wanted to, if you pressed on the issue he would only close up more ─ get sarcastic, avoidant.

So you both sat on your front porch, the night silent around you, still warm from the heat of the day. “... don’t think he'll be able to walk home tomorrow,” Oscar commented.

“He got third and he's still getting shitfaced like that?” You asked with a disbelieving laugh. “Wonder what will happen for his first pole position.”

“I don't even want to think about it,” he sighed. “His PR team is gonna have a field day.”

“Wonder what will happen during yours, to be honest.” You bumped your shoulder with his, something so casual that still sent the familiar shivers down his spine. “What kind of celebration are you going to pull in Australia, huh?”

The simple sentence was cold rain on Oscar’s newfound relaxation. He knew you didn’t mean it like that, you never would, but his shoulders tensed up and his gaze drifted away from yours. “Yeah, well, at the rhythm it’s going, maybe we’ll have a party when I retire.”

You threw him a glance, the kind that knew what was lying behind all of his barriers, behind the sudden phone call. Oscar let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the material of his jeans. 

“Is that why you asked me to pick you up?” You ended up asking, voice soft. You weren’t trying to pry too much, and he silently thanked you for it. For everything, really.

“I didn’t want to be there,” he answered.

There was nothing more to say: Oscar was bitter and that was the end of it ─ or maybe not, but he didn’t want to get into it tonight when the feelings were still raw, painfully open to see. Yet, your hand found his, stilling the restless motion of his hand against his thigh. Slowly, deliberately, you wove them together. Your palms, warm and steady, rested above his knee. “Then why’d you go? We could have done something. Just the both of us, y’know.”

This time, Oscar looked at you.

And it was all too much. Worry laced in the edges of your expression, the subtle scrunch of your eyebrows he would have missed if he didn’t know you as well as he did, your hand in his ─ steady, grounding. It belonged there, he thought, it always did. You cared about him, that’s what scared him at first ─ because you were sunlight, not the kind that burned but the kind that warmed. The constant, unwavering glow of a beacon that guided him, never pulled him under.

And yet, there he was. Drowning in the mess he tried to push away for so long and was coming back full force, with a simple touch of the hand.

Oscar had two drinks earlier, and it made everything too sharp, his emotions too messy. His tongue a little too loose.

“I thought if I pretended hard enough, it would go away.” He didn’t know if he was talking about the race anymore.

You scooted closer, as if sharing a secret, but the closeness was too intimate for the situation. “What would?” You asked in a whisper.

Oscar’s breath hitched at the way the streetlamps caught in your hair, how your eyes searched his. There was a shift in the air, in the barely-there space between the two of you, in the way your fingers refused to let go of the grip it had on the other.

He should let go.

But your lips parted, ever so slightly, and Oscar allowed his gaze to dip to them. He kissed girls before, he even had a few short-lived relationships, but none of them ever felt right, like they belonged in a lasting manner in his life. They always felt like placeholders for something else, something more, less of a daunting feeling in his guts. He never really told you about it ─ it had always been an unspoken rule in your friendship, without knowing why. Now, he had a sneaky, unnerving suspicion.

Oscar kissed girls before, but he never kissed you.

He didn’t know if it was a mistake. He didn’t know if he should cross that line, but God he wanted to ─ he only knew that he wasn’t sure of what was waiting for him on the other side of it. His heart hammered in his chest, so hard he was afraid you’d hear it. You leaned in, imperceptibly, and your warm breath brushed against his lips. If he let himself, just for a second─ one tiny, irreversible second─ he would kiss you.

He was close. Too close. Feelings were too many. He needed to tell you before something could happen.

“Come with me,” Oscar blurted out, in a murmur along the shape of your lips, a plea in the leftover space.

And just like that, he felt the moment slip away from him. Your eyes, now sharp, snapped to him in a swift movement. And that’s when he knew. That wasn’t the right thing to say or do.

“What?” Your voice was quiet, laced with disbelief. Confusion swirled in your pupils, wondering if you misheard or if he misspoke.

Maybe he had. Maybe this wasn’t how it was supposed to come out- not here, not now, not like this.

“I- Uh…,” Oscar stammered. “Come with me. Stay. For the next races.” Please.

You pulled away, and the lack of you in his space caused his head to spin, his heart still beating violently against his chest, this time in panic. What did he do?

“What are you asking me exactly, Osc’?”

The question of the day. Because what was he asking, really? To be there for the few days in between flights and training and traveling and pretending his world wasn’t moving too fast for him to catch his breath? Sit in the stands, waiting for him to make up his mind about something he had been wondering about for the past fourteen years? Because what did he mean, and why couldn’t he understand?

It wasn’t fair. Not to you.

He swallowed, throat tight with something he couldn’t name and suddenly the night was too cold to stay outside anymore. Oscar forced out a weak chuckle, like it was just some stupid joke as if the word hadn’t crawled out of his chest on their own. “I meant─” He ran a quick hand through his hair. “Ha. Never mind. Forget it.”

And this time, when the light dimmed in your eyes, it didn’t come back. You won’t forget it. Because you saw right through him. Still, you didn’t push ─ every time you did, disappointment crawled over you like insects. After a beat of silence, one that felt like a lifetime, you exhaled, something fragile flashing across your features before you masked it with a tight-lipped smile. He hated it.

You nodded. “Sure.” Just that. Oscar didn’t know what he was expecting. No questions, accusations.

But that was almost worse, you let him get away with it, with the almost, with all of it.

When you both went to sleep that night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t sleep in the same bed. You pretended to have a headache, said you’d join him once it settled down. Oscar fell into slumber alone. 

For some reason, it felt like losing.

Saying to have known love at eight years old would have to be a lie, but Oscar knew you jump-started his heart the minute your laugh echoed in his ear at that playground, fifteen years ago.

He had been pathetically doomed from the start.

From the first glance, to the first laugh, to when your fingers grazed his when you took the controller to his truck ─ a touch so small that had burned itself into his memory like a brand. He was too young to understand what it meant at fifteen when he sat beside you on his porch. Too blind to recognize it at twenty, lying in your childhood bedroom and hands fisting the sheets to stop them from reaching for you. Too scared to act on it last year, close enough to touch and closer than you had been in years and he still let the moment pass him.

The truth was simply this: no matter what, Oscar had always known. Maybe not at eight, maybe not at fifteen. But deep inside, he had always, always known. And he had spent every year since then trying to ignore it.

Not anymore. He couldn’t ─ not when he messed it up last time. Not when he was on the verge of losing you for good.

Oscar Piastri loves you, like a madman, and he needed to tell you like someone drowning needed air.

But to do that, he’d have to get out of the patch of grass he got himself into first.

The track was slippery due to the rain, and a simple mistake could lead to tragic circumstances: this was one of them. Oscar was stuck in the grass of the circuit after a turn he took too narrowly. He lost his P2, the one of his home race he had been searching for since last year. The scream of frustration he let out had earned a pained groan from his race engineer, and to make it worse, he was apparently already written as Out.

But that wouldn’t happen. Because Oscar didn’t go after things he knew he couldn’t have ─but he knew he could have this race. He could finish it. He wouldn’t DNF.

And after he’d be done with it, he’d go after you.

So he dragged himself out under the cheers of his home crowd, an ecstatic buzz in his ears. The last of the laps passed in an angry blur: Oscar was driven by sheer determination, rage even, he could barely remember overtaking Hamilton, fighting his way to P9, and grabbing as many points as he could have in his situation. He could do it.

The race ended in a flurry of applause, some of them surprisingly directed at him. Oscar tried to get out of his car as fast as he could but under the special circumstances of his race, he knew getting past the journalists and commentators was going to be almost impossible. And it was, because as soon as he put a foot on paddock ground, he was swarmed by microphones, cameras, and flashing lights, waiting for every tear to turn into a headline that people would twist and shape.

A few hours passed by the time he was finally able to reach his family. After the regular hugs and reassurances, one of the first things his mom said was: “That’s too bad you just missed Y/N, she had to go back. I wish she could have stayed, she always knows what to say to you,” with motherly little taps on the cheek.

Oscar felt a hole opening in his chest. “She left?” He asked, trying to muster as much nonchalance as he could. 

It wasn’t very efficient, as Nicole gave him the kind of look you’d give to a kicked puppy. “Yeah, she did.” Quickly, she added, “She didn’t go back to her hotel, though. I asked to drop her off and she refused, saying she had somewhere to be.”

It was as vague as it could possibly get, maybe because you didn’t want Oscar to seek you out. But he needed to, he had to get it off his chest before your relationship could worsen ─ and he couldn’t do that by text or calls, for the little you exchanged over the past year. He had to know if the little gap you almost crossed on that front porch meant something and could have been something if he hadn’t fucked it up. If it was too late for it to become something now. And knowing you, you’d be gone by tomorrow morning.

Oscar dashed. 

He got into his car, drove too fast under the intensifying rain. There was no time to waste for him. What he was thinking about was a long shot, an extremely long one for a non-wishful thinker, but if today put you in the same state as him ─ there was a chance, a small one, that you’d be there. 

When he pulled into your childhood neighborhood, his drenched windshield made the road and its surroundings almost indiscernible. But right before the little street leading to both of your houses, he passed by that old, worn-down playground that somehow stood against the test of time, with its rusted swing set and old dirt roads. But his breath didn’t catch on that, no.

It caught on you, sitting on the lower branches of the tree you spied him on at eight.

Oscar had never parked so hastily. He never ran so fast, soaking the McLaren hoodie he put on in a rush before going out. His hair stuck to his forehead and when he reached the dry soil underneath the tree you were hiding on. Arms around yourself, staring in the empty, like you were holding yourself together.

He hesitated momentarily, and all the fears plaguing his mind the past years came rushing back. What if it was too late? What if all he’d get was a final goodbye?

Then you turned, and your gaze found his in the settling dark. All doubts vanished at the same moment ─ he’d rather regret saying too much and grasp at the chance of something than live the rest of his life in silence, drowning in the regrets of saying nothing at all.

“Y/N,” he called, a little strangled, arms dangling at his side.

“Oscar?” You frowned, jumping the small distance separating you from the ground. “What-? How’d you know─?”

“I… guessed.”

“Oh.”

Silence. The incessant rhythm of the rain filled the space as you both stared each other down. Waiting. What was he supposed to say now? “So… uh. How are you?”

Your eyes widened, and a scoff escaped you. “How am─?” You crossed your arms on your chest, staring at Oscar like he had grown a second head ─ and maybe he had, because he couldn’t even try to think straight. “I’m good, Oscar. Great. How was the race?”

“It was─” He stopped, swallowed. It felt plastic, strange ─ the distance, the iciness. Both of you knew you weren’t really inquiring about the race, you knew him better than anyone and probably guessed how it felt already, and he wasn’t really inquiring about you.

It was the first time you saw each other after last year, and everything felt more real. Heavy.

“Did you forget how to talk, Osc’?”

Osc’. You haven't called him that in a long time.

A nervous chuckle escaped him. You were so far and so close at the same time, hair frizzy from the dampness, knees scratched from your recent climb ─ he missed you, you were right there and he still missed you, because you were slowly slipping through his fingers. The last bit of his resolve crumbled.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Oscar never showed too much emotion. But here he was, drenched by the rainfall, eyes open and raw. And you didn't know what to do with that. You shifted on your feet. “For what?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair, frustration bleeding into the gesture. “You know what for.”

“That’s not enough. Not anymore.” Your voice was laced with barely contained emotions, strangling you.

He knew. Oscar stepped forward tentatively, just once. Enough to make you look up at him, and he held your gaze even as it twisted with the kind of hurt he never wanted to be responsible for, but had to be faced with. Because he had. And he had to own up to it ─ so everything spilled out.

“I fucked up, last year. Big time.” His voice cracked. He couldn’t care less. “And I know- shit, I know I’m probably too late. I should’ve said something back then, but I didn’t know how or what or why.”

“I was scared. Not just of ruining things, even though it was a part of it, but of─ of what it meant. I didn’t understand, Y/N. I didn’t get why you were the first person I looked for in a room, why I felt so goddamn lost when I moved out and you weren’t there anymore, why seeing you living your own life without me was─ I don’t know, I guess I’m selfish or something.” His throat burned. “And that night─ here, last year─ I should’ve known. Fuck, I think I knew long before then but I was just so blind. When I asked you to come with me, and we─ I should’ve known why. I did. I just─ I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Oscar let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “But I did anyway. I messed it all up because I couldn’t make up my mind, and I don’t blame you if you don’t─ if you can’t─”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

The rain pattered against the dirt and the surrounding pavement, unrelenting, like both of your heartbeats. Oscar’s fingers twitched, aching to reach for you ─ but he wouldn’t do it. Not unless you let him.

Finally, you spoke. “You’re the biggest idiot I met in my entire life, Osc’. You’re so stupid.”

Your voice was teary, but you didn’t cry. You weren’t angry. You weren’t turning away. You simply stared at him, lips parted ─ barely smiling, but it was there.

Oscar blinked rapidly, taken aback. “I know,” he admitted, his voice a whisper, “but I love you.”

There it was. After fifteen years, there it was: the plain truth, out in the open for you to see. What he spent his time running from, what he should have told you so long ago.

You didn’t react. Your eyes widened, a sharp inhale went through your mouth and you stared, frozen in place. Oscar panicked. “I understand if you don’t─ I mean, after everything, I get it if─ Or, or maybe I misread, but─”

“Say it again.”

Your voice was authoritative. Hopeful. And this time, a tear slid down your cheek. His heart skipped a bit. “I love you.”

And Oscar Piastri is twenty-three when he kisses you for the first time.

Your hands grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him to you. The crash of your lips against his was sudden, but it didn’t take Oscar long to find a rhythm ─ not when it made so much sense, not when it felt so right. Finally.

A shudder rippled through him, something snapping back into place. It was messy, desperate ─ years of missed chances spilling out at once. You exhaled against his mouth and Oscar felt it everywhere, in the way his fingers trembled when he cupped your cheeks, how his knees almost buckled when you got closer, in the way his world narrowed down to just you. His mouth against yours. Fuck.

You pulled away, just for a second. “Osc─”

“Not yet,” he rasped. And he captured your lips a second time, choking out any other words.

How had he gone so long without this? Without knowing what it was like to have you like this?

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. Desire, want, love, all of it blurred in the way his fingers wove into your hair, when he slowly brought them down to your waist, pulling you against him, hungry, greedy.

If he wanted you to come with him so badly the past few years wasn’t because he needed you at his side ─ he still did, but that wasn’t the gist of it. Now that you were falling apart against his lips, hands making a mess of his rain-drenched hair, he knew he had wanted you next to him because he wasn’t allowing himself to have you. He had wanted you in his chest, curled beneath his ribs, a part of him so irrevocably that no miles, no years, no silence could ever pull you away.

And now, he had you. Shit, if that wasn’t like ascending to heaven felt like, he didn’t know what would.

You put a hand on his chest, slowly, and when you separated Oscar found himself longing for more, for every instance he passed on. Yet, the wide smile on your face stopped him ─ because you looked perfect like this, bright and open, taking up space. That’s why he fell in love with you.

“I love you too. So much,” you said, and the words softly blossomed in Oscar’s chest like spring. He dropped his forehead against yours.

“Me too. I love you. You don’t even know,” he breathed out, his lips slowly dropping a kiss on your forehead. “It feels so good to say it. To know.”

You grabbed the string of his hoodies, toying with them as you’d usually do, but every single one of your actions sent another wave of heat in Oscar’s neck when he remembered what you tasted like. “You could’ve felt good about it earlier, y’know.”

He arched a teasing eyebrow at you and you giggled. “I’m sorry, but the realizing-i’m-in-love-with-my-childhood-best-friend didn’t really come with an instruction material. The confession either.”

“You were pretty dramatic, true, with the rain and the running,” you laughed. “It was gonna be pretty easy for me last year, honestly. Until you bailed.”

Oscar groaned, and his head dropped on your shoulder. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Oh yeah, you’re in for a long ride, Piastri.” A long ride. That sounded amazing.

Realization hit him at full force, harder than a crash. “Wait, what do you mean last year?”

Your hand went up, wiping a raindrop dripping down his cheek, and the look you gave him was overflowing with fondness. “I mean that before you tried to kiss me, that night, I would’ve told you I’ve been in love with you ever since I started spying on you at the playground.”

“You…?” Oscar’s mouth dropped open. Had he really been that blind? How many signs had he missed, exactly? “How─”

You kissed him. A quick, hard peck on the lips, but that was enough to shut him up and get him to melt against you once more. “Let’s not talk about it here. I’m cold, and I think it’s the type of discussion that’s too long to have outside,” you said, slipping your hand in his. “My mom would love to make us coffee, if you want.”

Oscar sighed at the familiar feeling, fingers tangling with yours in a well-known pattern. He missed the both of you, and now he got to have it in a better way. “You’re sure? I’d love to, but is your mom─”

“Don’t even worry. She’s been calling me Mrs. Piastri for years now, I think the news will move her to tears.”

So you runned back to the porch of your house where you’d sat years ago, drenched in the deluge but happier than you’ve ever been. Oscar loved you, he knew now. And you loved him back, it was worth the rain, the missed opportunities, the hesitation and the heart wrenching confessions that will follow as you sit down.

You were worth the vulnerability, Oscar thought when you crossed the threshold. You were worth everything.

A year later, Oscar is standing in pole position for the Australian Grand Prix of 2026.

Qualifications went great, keeping the fastest lap position for all rounds. He was confident in his capacity ─ last year had tested his patience and goodwill, but he only came out stronger, more resilient.

The home race curse was a popular saying in Formula One, and sadly he fell victim to it ever since he put his feet in a McLaren in 2023. He had hoped to win the Melbourne race, to bring back the trophy under the cheers of his home crowd and the screams of his family ─ but this year wasn’t for hoping: if there was one thing you taught him, it is that hoping never achieved anything. Actions did. And he was going to win the Australian Grand Prix.

You were standing in your usual spot, orange headphones on, all in smiles and shouts. Hattie next to you playfully shoved an elbow in your ribs to get you to quiet down, which only made you louder. Oscar was persuaded he could hear you above the sound of his race engineer. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe the thought of you swirled around every mechanism of his car like it always did.

Today marked one year since you and Oscar got together. Since the kiss, the realization, the heartfelt confessions above a steaming cup of gingerbread coffee in the middle of summer because your mom affirmed it was a big occasion before leaving the two of you alone. And the fifteen years it took for you to finally get to that point were a painful obstacle of unsaid and what ifs, taking a few months to finally get out of the way, and plenty of awkward conversations ─ but how beautiful was the other side of it.

Devotion and love, gentle and kind. The impulsive dates, the good morning kisses when Oscar had enough time to come and visit, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back, “Oscar Piastri’s partner” on the screen when the camera was pointing at you during races, the weekend getaways.

Oscar noticed the large, varsity top hung on you, a bright orange with the large number 81 written in white. Just underneath, the words Mrs. Piastri were written in a similar font. You had it custom-made a few months into the relationship, simply because the comment about your mother the day he kissed you became a regular inside joke between the two of you.

It made Oscar’s heart flutter every time you wore it.

He observed the red lights above him, flickering out one by one. He thought about it: how the fifteen years of being apart made every day spent with you seem like too little, how he couldn’t get enough of you and how he didn’t want to.

Suddenly, Oscar couldn’t wait for the race to end. Because he was going to keep his P1 with his skills and the speed of his car, and brandish the trophy high on the podium for the country who raised him. Because after, he will rush out in your arms and kiss you until the air in his body runs out. Because he had a girl to get, and plans to make.

Because even though it was only a year spent together, Oscar Piastri is twenty-four when he decides he wants to marry you, and he was not about to wait fifteen more years to make it happen.

©DRGNSFLY 2k25 ─ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[avatar-anna]

Never Really Over

a little bit of divorced!harry for your consideration

"I just wanna see him."

Y/n gave her ex a long look, not betraying the warring emotions swirling in her belly. Harry rarely showed up this late. He rarely showed up unannounced, for that matter. It made things easier—seeing him when she could prepare herself for the encounter. Now he was here on her doorstep, hair messy and eyes all pleading and sad.

"I just put him to bed, H," Y/n sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to keep Harry from their son, but it was way too late, and it wasn't his week.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Y/n had been feeling particularly lonely lately and seeing her ex husband be all sweet with their son would make her think traitorous thoughts.

"I know, I know, I've just... I've had a long day, and I just want to see him. I won't even wake him up, I swear. I just want to sit with him."

Despite the divorce, Y/n still knew Harry struggled with the demise of their relationship, and she did too, even if she was the one who ultimately filed. They were five months in, but she felt like no time had passed at all. She floated between half expecting Harry to walk through the door like he used to and frustrated by the way their relationship turned so tumultuous by the end. It was all too complicated, which was why she preferred Harry's visits to be planned. It helped her to compartmentalize.

But she saw the look in his eyes and couldn't help but empathize with her ex-husband.

He looked tired and lost and maybe even at his wits end a little. She knew that look well, she recognized it every time she looked in the mirror on the days Harry had their son. She knew what it was like to have a bad day and want nothing more than to hold their little bub and let him wash away every bit of stress and frustration. Y/n did everything she could to not go completely out of her mind when it was Harry's week with their son, and she imagined that her ex felt similarly.

"Twenty minutes," she said, opening the door further and stepping to the side.

Harry's shoulders sagged with relief. He stepped toward Y/n as if he was going to hug her, then seemed to think better of it and went straight inside.

Y/n stayed downstairs while Harry went up, letting him have a private moment with their son. She cleaned up in the meantime, putting away stray toys and books and fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. Anything to not think of Harry with her son, or the soft look he always got when he gazed down at their little boy. It had always been her kryptonite, and she wasn't sure she'd gotten over it yet.

A little while later, Harry came back downstairs. Having organized and straightened up everything she possibly could, Y/n settled on the couch with the glass of wine she'd promised herself earlier that day. She'd wanted to have it in her bed with her book, but she settled for scrolling on her phone until her ex eventually left.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice soft, careful not to wake the five year old upstairs. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," Y/n said, trying to appear like seeing him didn't have an effect on her the way it used to.

"Really, Y/n, I owe you."

"Let's not go and make promises you can't keep again," she muttered.

Y/n felt guilty as soon as she said it. They were having a civil moment, a rarity since the whirlwind of their divorce. She hadn't meant to pick at old wounds and make them bleed again. Her response was a reflex more than anything, one that she couldn't keep in check when she was tired.

"I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Y/n," Harry said, a dark cloud of emotion overtaking his face. "If anyone broke promises, it was you."

"Those vows were broken long before we got divorced, and you know it," Y/n said, that old fire that was more of a dull ember these days rising to the surface.

Harry and Y/n fell in love hard and fast, both loving each other fiercely and with everything cell in their body. Their relationship had been full of passion and intensity and so much love it was almost suffocating. But it also meant that they fought just as hard. Their arguments often blazed and burned bright, then fizzled out until they were in each other's arms again as if nothing had happened.

Until the arguments got bigger.

And longer.

And Y/n just couldn't take it anymore.

Y/n could tell that the anger simmering in Harry's eyes was more for show. She could see the sadness, perhaps even loneliness, in those lovely green eyes of his. And maybe her anger was a little more bravado than genuine hurt too. Maybe it was easier to slip into familiar habits and poke at old wounds than admit the truth.

She missed him.

"Don't make me the villain here. You—"

"I don't want to fight with you," she said before Harry could volley anything back. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I'm assuming yours wasn't a walk in the park either."

Harry didn't say anything, or do anything, for a moment. Then, he let his head drop, his shoulders slumping a little. Feeling more than a little bad for kicking him while he was down, Y/n stood up from the couch and fetched another glass before pouring some wine in it for her ex. "Here," she said. "A peace offering. You look like you could use it."

With a laugh that held no humor in it, he took it and raised the glass to his mouth, and Y/n tried hard not to stare at his lips. Or the column of his throat as it bobbed when he took a sip. Or—

"Is this one of mine?"

Y/n willed her cheeks not to flush. "I might've snagged a few bottles from your collection before we sold the house. Most of them went untouched anyways."

"They were aging," Harry said, a little of that humor and charm she fell in love with sparking in his eyes, the lines of his face. "You're supposed to let the bottles rest for a few years until they're at their peak, and then you drink them."

Y/n shrugged. "If you wait too long it goes bad and you miss out on a perfectly good bottle altogether, and then you do all that waiting for nothing."

She didn't mean anything by it, but both of them recognized the subtle truth in regards to their own relationship. Y/n wondered if they would ever be over this part. The stumbling through conversations and trying to avoid dangerous subjects that were littered between them like a minefield.

"Are you saying that's what happened with us?" Harry asked after taking another sip. "That I waited too long to appreciate what was right in front of me? What was perfect in every way the whole time?"

"I was talking about wine, not us."

"You've always been perfect in my eyes, Y/n," Harry said. "You and that perfect angel upstairs. Both of you are my entire world."

"Don't," Y/n said, taking a step back when she realized how close together they were.

"I miss you," Harry said, his voice hitching in his throat. "I miss waking up to our baby snuggled between us. I miss holding your hand while we watch him play at the park. I miss building pillow forts and playing pretend. I miss you, Y/n. I miss being loved by you. I hate that we're divorced. I hate that I signed those stupid papers and let you walk away."

Her throat suddenly felt dry, her heart pumping in her chest so hard she worried he might hear it. Blinking, Y/n tried to maintain the thread of composure holding her together. "You've had a long day. I can tell you need rest—"

"Don't patronize me," he said, stepping closer and closing the small distance between them once more. When Y/n didn't try to widen it again, Harry continued. "If you don't miss me, if you don't still feel what I feel, then say that. But if you do..."

Harry took Y/n's glass and set it down on the coffee table along with his own. He straightened up, one free hand lightly caressing your face, his thumb grazing across her cheek with a touch so delicate she barely felt it. It was agonizing. To have him right there, just the way she used to, and only get a phantom touch. It was maddening.

So maddening, that when he leaned in, Y/n didn't stop him.

She might have whimpered, and her knees might have slightly buckled, and she might have clutched her shirt between her fingers in a desperate, iron grip as Harry slid his mouth against hers, but she would deny it if he said anything about it later.

His kiss was all-consuming, he'd been a ghost in her new life for months, and suddenly he was everywhere—on her tongue, in her hands, against her chest. And she nearly forgot how explosive kissing him was. How it was almost like a dance that they'd mastered but were always learning new and exciting steps to. The softness of her ex's lips were as familiar as ever, but the stubble on his cheeks was new. She didn't recognize the shirt he wore, but she knew the body beneath it almost as well as her own. And his hands—

"We can't—We're not—Harry—"

Over the years, Y/n had grown used to the feeling of Harry's wedding band against her skin. When he held her hand, when he cupped her cheek, when he was spreading her open or landing a firm slap to her ass. It was familiar, a part of him that just seemed intrinsic after they got married.

But now, as she placed her hand over the one that held the side of her face as he kissed along her throat, it wasn't there. The band was gone, they weren't married anymore, and they certainly shouldn't be kissing like they still were.

"Just this once," Harry murmured, pressing the words along the curve of her jaw. "It's been so long, baby. I just want to feel you again. We can still be divorced after. Like last time."

Flames licked Y/n's core as she remembered the night in question. It had been the night the divorce had been finalized. Harry and Y/n signed and initialed every dotted line, the lawyers shook hands and left, then Harry and Y/n went their separate ways

Harry still insisted that her late-night message about a few of his possessions that got mixed in with her things was meant to have some kind of subtext, and Y/n would swear until she was blue in the face that her text was innocent, even if the activities that followed Harry coming over to "pick up" said items were anything but. It was a final goodbye. It was closing a chapter on a book neither of them ever really believed would end.

"Last time was supposed to be the last time," Y/n said, her voice shallow and not at all convincing.

"Tell me you don't want me right now," Harry said, his hand creeping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Y/n's mouth opened in a strangled gasp, too aroused and too in love with him still to push him away. "Tell me not to set you down on the kitchen counter and let me love on that pussy the way I used to. Tell me not to haul you upstairs and fuck you hard for breaking us up when we could've had this every. Single. Day."

Harry's last words were punctuated by the thrust of his fingers inside Y/n, each one making her curl around him tight. He lifted her into his arms and set her on the couch, the closest surface in the vicinity that wasn't hardwood flooring. His fingers still moving inside her, pumping slowly, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips.

"Tell me not to love you anymore," he said, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "Tell me how to fall out of love with you. Tell me how to not dream of you. Tell me how to not want you anymore."

Y/n, who had succumbed to this moment, this lapse in...whatever it was, could only grip her ex's hair as he worked her over with his fingers, each word he spoke a balm to the loneliness these last months brought. She wasn't ready to start seeing someone else after the divorce, but now she worried no one would ever measure up to Harry. He ruined her for any other man who might try to sweep her off her feet in the future.

"Tell me, Y/n, and I'll let you come."

Y/n was a mess. She could hear it as Harry's fingers slid in and out of her quickly and harshly, then slowing down before she could finish. He used to do it all the time, knowing how worked up it made her, and now he knew nothing had changed.

"I—" she gasped. She was so close she could barely think straight. Harry's desperate words and the way his fingers curled inside her had her seeing stars. But if she knew her ex, he would stay there and edge her until she gave him what he wanted. "I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. Please let me come."

Having thought she'd given him what he wanted, Y/n prepared herself for an earth-shattering orgasm. She surrendered herself to tonight, to him, even if she regretted it in the morning. Even if secretly she didn't, which would make her feel even worse.

But instead of pushing her over the edge, Harry removed his fingers from her altogether. The whine Y/n let out at the loss was perhaps a little undignified, but she couldn't think straight with the thick cloud of lust looming over her.

"Wh—"

"We're going to do this properly," he said, scooping her up into his arms and heading back upstairs, taking a left toward her bedroom. Their little angel boy was down the hall on the right side, but Y/n knew they still had to be quiet.

Once behind the closed door of her bedroom, they were both quick to shed each other of their clothes. Stitching ripped, a button or two flew, socks tossed carelessly to corners of the room they'd probably forget about later until there wasn't an ounce of fabric between them.

There wasn't time to stand and appreciate. This wasn't a romantic moment. It was desperate, a little angry, and intense in the way it always has been between them. Y/n kissed her ex-husband hard, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and soothing the ache with her tongue until he eventually flipped her over onto her stomach.

"You can't be here by the time he wakes up tomorrow," Y/n managed to say. "I don't want to confuse him."

"I know," Harry said, lining himself up with her entrance. "But wouldn't it be so nice if I did?"

"Harry—"

"Relax, baby, I'll abide by your rules," he said, his voice a soft caress. "Just let me have you tonight, and then I'll be gone."

Harry slid in with one smooth thrust, Y/n's mouth dropping open in response. She hadn't been stretched this way in months, and the feel of him inside her again as if nothing had changed...

"Fuck, Harry. I'm—I'm so close," she moaned, unable to say much more than that.

His movements were torturously slow, prolonging the climax he'd been teasing out of her on the couch. Then he leaned over her, his body pressing deliciously against hers.

"We may be separated, but you're still mine," he said, his words accented by his own pleasure. "These hips? Mine. Your tits? Mine. This little cunt? Well, she already knows. Absolutely drenching me. And tonight, I'm going to make sure you remember that."

Y/n could only whimper and wait to take whatever her ex-husband was willing to give her.

*.*

Y/n was having the best dream.

Sun streamed through the small crack in her bedroom curtains as she snuggled under the weight of the warmest, coziest blanket. She held onto it, wrapping it tighter around her, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before her son eventually barged in and demanded they start their day.

She had a million things to do, but none of it seemed to matter while she slept. She felt relaxed in a way she hadn't in a long time.

Then the dream seemed to change. The cozy blanket became an arm draped over her, a leg tangled between her own, and a firm body pressed against her back. The unknown form wrapped around her began to kiss along her bare back, the arm tightening its grip around her waist. Her stomach flipped as a hand began to play with her breast.

She hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time, either.

Before the dream could go any further, Y/n regrettably began to feel the pinpricks of consciousness. But as she blinked her eyes open, she still felt that weight of another body next to hers, of someone other than herself occupying her bed.

It was then that last night made an appearance in her mind, recalling every dirty detail of how she'd given into her ex-husband.

"Good morning."

Harry's voice was low and gruff as if he'd only just woken up himself. The puffs of his breaths dusted over Y/n's skin and sent goosebumps all over. She didn't understand how her body, even while it was still waking up, was so responsive to him.

As casually as possible, she said, "You weren't supposed to stay over."

"Honestly, I don't even remember falling asleep," Harry admitted, though he made no move to leave her Y/n's bed.

"You have to go before he wakes up," she insisted, even if her body was completely against that idea. "He can't find you here. If he does, he'll have questions, and—"

Before Y/n could even finish, she heard the soft patter of feet against soft carpet. Then her door creaked open, and the light of her life appeared.

"Daddy!"

Y/n rested her hands over her face, but not before seeing Harry's broad grin out of the corner of her eye, one that was nearly identical to the little boy at the foot of the bed.

"Hey, buddy," Harry said, his voice less husky than it was just moments ago. "What are you doing up so early, huh?"

"Why are you in bed with Mommy?" the boy asked, climbing into bed with his parents and wriggling around until he was snuggled between them.

Wasn't that the question, Y/n thought, though she was in no rush to help Harry.

"Mummy and Daddy decided to have a sleepover," Harry explained.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you invite me?"

"Because..." Y/n felt Harry's gaze on her, but she was not inclined to dig him out of this hole. Their night was over. It was a new day, which meant everything was back to the way it was before Harry came over last night. "Because I wanted to surprise you this morning. We're all going to spend the day together. Just the three of us."

"Yay!"

"What?"

Y/n glared over the top of her son's head as he half-hugged half-tackled Harry from sheer excitement. This was definitely not reverting back to their normal routine of co-parenting and seeing each other only when it was necessary. Harry, who looked thoroughly pleased with himself, slid out of bed with their boy still latched into him.

Thankfully, he was wearing underwear, but that didn't help Y/n much. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched while he held their son. At all the tattoos that littered his body and the mess of curls on his head. He had no right to look this good in the morning, especially when Y/n knew for a fact that she always looked haggard no matter what when she first woke up.

Not that her appearance in front of her ex mattered to her.

"Come on, let's start with making your mum some breakfast. I'm thinking...waffles?"

"Do not make a mess of my kitchen, Harry," Y/n warned, not even bothering to protest the idea in its entirety. She wouldn't have been able to tell her son no even if he tried. Not with how excited he looked at the prospect of spending the day with his dad.

"We'll clean up after ourselves, I promise," Harry said with a wink in your direction. "You stay there and rest. I know you had a...long night."

Y/n threw a pillow at Harry's retreating form before flopping back into her bed. She had half a mind to strut right over to him and prove him wrong, but, well, the dull ache between her legs was starting to make itself known, and the damage of her son seeing Harry in her bed was already done. She might as well stay in bed and take the morning off if Harry was offering.

Sighing, Y/n ran a tired hand over her face as one realization after another made themselves known.

Everything about last night and this morning was messy and would no doubt bring about consequences and difficult conversations she wasn't inclined to have. There were questions she didn't want to ask or know the answer to, but one thing was abundantly clear:

She was well and truly fucked.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

This is my cat.

His name is Eddie Potato.

Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.

[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]

We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.

This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.

He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.

The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.

Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.

He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.

We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.

Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.

I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.

Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.

After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.

And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.

Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.

What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.

"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.

He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!

It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.

I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.

Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.

[81pastrys]

Merch Shoot

Summary— Lando has a merch shoot and his little girl is being clingy.

Warnings— Lila is kinda mean to Keegan tbh but None.

A/n— immediately started writing this when I thought of it bc umm hello?!

Dad Lando List

Lando had a planned out today, for weeks. He noticed his wife a bit overwhelmed in the past few days and decided the least he could do was give her a break. Which is how he ended up with the quadrant team holding Lila. No one really bat an eye.

“Okay Lila, you stay here and play with Keegan.” Lando instructed. She looked at her dad without a clue in the world. She’s met them before, but she wanted her dad. She reached her arms to him and he shook his head at her. “Daddy has to take pictures sweetheart.”

She whined and he could see tears form in her little eyes. Keegan frowned, he didn’t know how to help Lando when he shared a glance. Lando had brought a mini tea set, her favorite toy, to play with.

“Look, you can make Keegan your favorite tea!” Lando tried again but she didn’t let up, her lip quivering. Max was starting to run out of models and needed Lando in the shoot. Lando sighed and hoped he could corral her with Max.

“Mate.” Max said. He wasn’t surprised but usually the girl was easy going. “Lila it’s my turn with him.” Max fake whined to her. She gave him a giggle and reached out to Max.

“Take that as a win.” Lando laughed, changing and joining the shoot himself. Max walked around with the little girl, showing her the clothes they’re releasing in due time.

“Pink!” She squeaked at the pink tshirt on the rack. Max praised her color recognition. He forgot they had kids shirts until he reached the end of the rack. “For me!” She blurted. Max laughed and looked to Lando posing.

“Want to join daddy?” Max whispered. She gave him a nod with the biggest smile. Max grabbed a pink kids tee from the rack and swapped her shirts. He pats her back. “Go get him Lila.” He smiles and she runs up to Lando.

“Well look at you!” He smiled. The photographer was melting at the content he was getting. They got amazing pictures and good content. “Did Maxie put you up to this?” He asked her while tickling her. The giggles filled the studio and smiles broke out.

The photographer went along with Lila joining Lando, having them do father daughter poses. Holding her hand, her on his shoulders.

Once the shoot was done, so was the little girl. She was yawning and whining from being tired. “I know sweetheart, we’re almost done.” Lando said. They picked the best photos and she helped.

“Best model we had today.” Max said shaking his head at the little girl. She truly had these men wrapped around her finger. “I’ve got it from here, it’s getting late.” Max told him.

“Bye bye Maxie!” She told Max. He scoffed and tickled her. Lando got his things as she ran around telling everyone bye. “Bye Keegan.” She struggled to say the skateboarders name. He gave her a chuckle and a high five.

“Next time we can have tea huh?” Keegan asked. She nodded and Lando scooped her up to leave. “Bye mate.” Keegan said to Lando. With that, they left the studio and headed home. Lila falling asleep on the way.

No hate to Keegan but I don’t think he’d be good fun at tea parties 🫣

[spideyjimin]

sweet love | pjm

⤷ part of the dads universe

⏤ pairing: coffee shop owner!jimin x female reader 

⏤ genre: parents au, exes to lovers, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+ 

⏤ summary: jimin is the father of your four-year-old daughter, moon, and he’s also your ex. an ex you never considered getting back to, but that wasn’t until you both found yourself being single again. watching a movie with moon every sunday became the perfect excuse to flirt together discreetly. a flirt that brought back ten years of sweet love. 

⏤ words: 14,388 

⏤ warnings: mention of pregnancy, mention of breakup, sexual tension, flirting, long-haired!jimin, little moon is sick, mention of jealousy, some teasing, a lot of making out, mention of struggles after a breakup, praising, mention of postpartum struggles, some swearing, pet names, thigh riding, dirty talking, masturbation, dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, missionary, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, nipple play, creampie, and multiple orgasms

⏤ author’s note: hiiii guys ✨ so here you finally have sweet love!! as “before you”, it’s an old fic that i rewrote and in this one i’ve added extra scenes and conversations. it was definitely fun to rewrite it and make it part of the dads universe 🤗 hope you’ll enjoy it & happy jimin day 💞

Slowly, you open the door of your daughter’s bedroom.  

“Are you ready?” You ask your small daughter. 

She’s struggling to put on her little blue dress, but today, she insisted on dressing by herself. Apparently, a little girl at her school already does everything alone, and Moon, your four-year-old daughter, wants to be just like her. But in general, your little daughter has been showing you that she wants to become more and more independent. 

You can totally understand her, you absolutely want her to do things on her own but it’s also okay to ask for a little help.  

“Let me help, booboo.” 

You rush in her direction to help her out with her dress. She doesn’t push you away or anything, she just lets you give her a hand. As you do so, you simply can’t believe that she is already four years old. For you, she’ll forever be the tiny little baby that she was at her birth. 

Moon was born prematurely, almost five weeks before the due date. She was tiny and more fragile, but she quickly grew once outside and she easily gained weight. The doctors and nurses were actually very impressed by her fast growth. You still remember how proud you were of her ⏤ and you’re still very proud of everything she accomplishes. 

But since the day she was born, you can only see her as a tiny little baby. Your tiny baby.    

“Mommy, daddy is coming soon?” Her little eyes look up at you.  

You quickly glance down at your watch to check what time it is. 

“He should be coming any minute,” you tell her. 

Moon’s father, Jimin, isn't your partner anymore, and today is the day he’s coming to pick her up to spend the week with her. When you broke up with Jimin, you agreed to share Moon’s custody. One week she’s with you, the next one she’s with Jimin. In the last three years, everything has been working out pretty well. 

“Have you already chosen the movie you want to watch?” 

For the past couple of weeks, the day you or Jimin pick up Moon at the other’s place, the three of you watch a movie together. You always come around 2 pm to enjoy a good afternoon together. Moon is always the one to choose the movie, and you and her father just let her do. It’s better if she enjoys this moment as much as she can. She doesn’t like watching tv, but she can open an exemption for her disney movies. 

Since she’s a little baby, you’ve been watching all the disney movies with her so she would know them when she’s older. Today, she loves them so much that she just wants to watch them, making you and Jimin watch them again and again.   

“Not sure yet,” she answers. “We can choose when daddy comes.” 

“Okay, booboo.” 

The dress is finally correctly put on your baby, she looks so beautiful. Every week, when Jimin takes her, it always breaks your heart. You perfectly know she’ll be in good hands but being apart from your baby is tough. If things depended on you, you’d be 24/7 around your daughter. But that’s life. She has a father who isn’t your partner anymore, and she deserves to be with him and to be loved by him. The only perk of sharing custody is that you can do your own things when Moon is at her father’s. 

Your eyes roam at the tiny little girl standing in front of you, causing a smile to spread on your face. She looks a lot like her father. She isn’t totally a mini-living version of him, but she inherited a lot of his traits. There’s also a lot about her personality that reminds you of him. She clearly takes a lot after him. However, your favorite thing about their resemblance is the way she smiles with her eyes just like him.

The doorbell rings, making your daughter run to the entrance to open the door to her beloved daddy. She always does that when he comes, she always wants to be the first to see him. As you leave her bedroom to join the two of them, you hear Jimin’s voice. 

“My little princess,” he says before grabbing his little daughter. 

From afar, you watch this tender moment between a father and a daughter. Their reunion every two weeks melts your heart. It just perfectly shows the sweet and gentle love they have for each other. Even if today you aren’t with Jimin anymore, for sure, you chose the best father for your daughter. 

As you see them today, you believe that breaking up was the best decision you both took three years ago. Things wouldn’t be as they are today, you’re completely sure about it. Most probably your little family would be more broken, and you’re convinced that you wouldn’t even speak with your ex which in the end would be absolutely sad.  

At first, you deeply regretted offering your daughter this kind of dysfunctional family. For a long time, you were persuaded that she would be destroyed because of this separation that happened when she was only seven months old. However, as you and Jimin made everything to remain friends for her own good, you got to see your daughter blooming into this remarkable human being. In the end, this dysfunctional family is her kind of normal because you always made sure she came first.

“Hey,” you say as you get closer to the two of them. 

Jimin’s face turns to look at you, his smile never leaving his face. Your heart squeezes when his eyes lock with yours. He looks absolutely stunning with that brown polo and black classic pants. His sleeves are rolled up, and you can see in his hands a black cap. His strong arms tightly hold your little princess who is now looking at you too. 

Lately, things have changed between you and Moon’s father. After you ended things with your ex, a sexual tension has been growing between the two of you. At first, it was just a simple flirt between the two of you, something completely innocent. Honestly, you let it happen because it reminded you of the ten years you spent with him. It felt good to be back to how things were. 

Seeing movies every sunday with your daughter is just an excuse to spend more time together. Honestly, it’s good to be able to spend more time together. Also, you’ve noticed how happier your baby is after the now-weekly movie session. In the end, this little excuse to flirt more and be more together has a lot of positive outcomes. 

None of you has actually thought of what could eventually happen if you decide to ever go further than flirting. However, you are both trying to be extremely careful because there is Moon. Any decision that you might take will impact her first, and you both want to keep this dynamic that has been working for three years now. 

“Hi, yn,” Jimin says as he takes a step closer in your direction. 

The man presses a kiss on your cheek, causing an intense wave of heat to suddenly grow inside you. Lately, every time he presses a soft kiss on your cheeks or even if his body brushes against yours, you instantly feel extremely hot. The power the man holds over you still blows your mind.  

Moon also takes advantage to press a kiss on your other cheek, and you smile as the two of them simply show you affection. 

“Mama is really beautiful,” your daughter says as she looks now to her dad.

Your daughter always adores complimenting you, she probably takes that after her father. While you were together, the man would shower you with compliments, it was his way of showing his love for you. It honestly made you extremely happy, and now, you have this little pumpkin who constantly does the same.   

“She really is!” Jimin agrees, his eyes still devouring you. 

Your eyes don’t ever leave his figure. Jimin has been letting his hair grow lately, and you believe that it suits him really well. With the cap in his hand, you can totally picture him with it on his long hair. He must look like a whole damn snack. A snack you’d definitely love to take a bite. 

“And both of you also are very handsome!” you reply with a bright smile on your face. 

They are more than handsome. They are perfect. The most perfect human beings you have ever laid eyes on. Well, technically, Moon is only this perfect because the man holding her right now made love to you almost five years ago. She is perfect because her father is too.      

For a brief moment, your eyes glance at the two of them, but every time they land on Jimin, all you can sense is the growing sexual tension. The tension between you and Jimin has reached its highest peak for the past few days. The man in front of you has been texting you a lot, being quite flirty with you, and honestly, he would have preferred if the two of you were alone. But today, he’s here for his daughter. For you, he already has some ideas behind his mind for another day.    

“So, we’re going to watch that movie?” Jimin asks your little daughter. 

His eyes move from you to his princess. Every time he looks at her, all he thinks about is the ten years of sweet love he shared with you. The ten years spent with you were definitely the best years of his life, and just like you, today, he doesn’t regret how things have changed between the two of you. For sure, he would have preferred to give another kind of family to his baby. If he could, he would give her the same kind of family he grew up in.  

But it’s life. 

Things can’t always be the way we want them, but Jimin has been trying to give the best to his daughter. Being on good terms with you has always been his top priority because he knows it will affect your little baby. Her happiness comes before anything else.  

“Yes!” Moon exclaims with delight. 

The three of you head to the living room, Jimin sitting on the couch while you grab the remote control. He sits on the couch with Moon on his lap, she gets all comfortable in her father’s arms before you quickly join them. As you turn the tv on, you take a seat next to your ex. Your little baby looks at you with a bright smile on her face, showing you just how much happiness this moment brings to her.  

“Which movie do you want to watch?” 

Moon starts thinking about what she’d like to see but knowing her, it’s probably going to take her three hours before she makes a decision. 

“What about Frozen?” you suggest as you set Disney + on tv. 

“No,” she says, shaking her head. 

“Zootopia?” Jimin proposes. 

Moon doesn’t seem convinced by your suggestions. That girl doesn’t watch that much tv but she’s still very tough when it comes to choosing something. On top of that, she’s also extremely tired today. Last night, she wasn’t feeling very well which led her to not sleep a lot. Most probably, she’s going to fall asleep during the movie but it’ll be okay. You prefer that honestly. 

“Raya!” She almost screams as she sees the movie being suggested on the screen. 

“Okay, booboo,” you say as you select Raya and the last dragon. 

Moon gets all comfortable on her father’s lap after he pulls a blanket on her small body. You smile as you see them. The bond between a father and a daughter is truly magical. Every time you see Jimin and Moon interacting together, it reminds you of the close relationship you have with your father. He has always been there for you, he has always given you the right amount of love, and since you were a little baby, you’d do anything for him. 

As you see Moon and Jimin, you know that they’ll share the same bond. It will for sure be different but it will be a very strong one. Plus, she’s a total daddy’s girl. She has Jimin wrapped around her little fingers, and he’ll do anything for her. For sure, in the future, she’ll be the one doing everything for him.     

On the couch, you try to get as close as possible to them, but you also try to not stick your body against your ex's. Although things are getting to a completely new place with him, you’re just scared to do something completely inappropriate, especially with Moon around. When there’s just the two of you, it’s okay to be very touchy or to be flirty, but when Moon is around and awake, you try to be very careful with everything you do.  

The movie starts, but you already know it by heart. Your daughter adores it so much, you have seen it a million times. But honestly, you also like the movie so you don’t mind watching it over and over again. 

As the movie progresses, Jimin slowly moves closer to you while your baby is falling asleep in his lap. Since he’s really subtle, you don’t even notice his body getting closer to yours. 

“She must be pretty exhausted,” Jimin whispers in your ear, causing you to jump with fear. 

“Gosh, you scared me, Jimin!” You press your hand on your chest before looking up at him. 

His face is very close to yours, his hot breath is falling on your face, and his dark orbs are glued on you. The last time you were this close was a week ago, at his place. Before the movie session, you both prepared some snacks in the kitchen, and you almost bumped into each other. That closeness almost caused you to kiss but it didn’t happen since Moon abruptly appeared in the kitchen. 

Your heart is beating extremely fast in your chest. He’s way too close to you, and you don’t really know what to do. So your eyes glance down at your daughter to avoid looking at the man who has been haunting your wildest dreams for the past few weeks. As you look at your baby, you can see that she’s already sleeping peacefully on her daddy. 

“She didn’t sleep well last night,” you admit as you watch her sleeping like a little angel. “She wasn’t feeling well, and she spent most of the night awake.” 

Slowly, you glance up at him to catch a bit of his reaction. His facial expression gets softer as he realizes that his baby must be pretty exhausted. Nights like this are something you are both familiar with. Moon is still very young so she gets sick pretty easily which also impacts her sleep quality. Thankfully, she takes naps the day after to compensate.     

“I’m actually relieved that she fell asleep now, I was scared she wouldn’t sleep at all today,” you tell him. 

“But how was she this morning?” He asks with concern. 

“She was sleepy but I put her in front of her favorite cartoons,” putting her favorite cartoons always makes her sleep, and it’s something that surprises you. “My parents were supposed to come but I canceled last minute to see if she could sleep a bit before you’d arrive.” 

The entire morning, she was lying on the couch with her little milk in her hand and her eyes glued to the tv. Those things comfort her when she’s not doing well, and they always help to put her back to sleep. However, this morning, she only slept for about an hour. 

“She didn’t sleep a lot, I guess she was just too excited to see you today.” 

A small smile appears on his face. He also gets pretty excited when he needs to come to your place to pick her up. He loves to see his daughter. 

“You could have told me,” he says. “I would have come on another day.” 

“She’s not doing well, Jimin, and she needs her father.” 

Just the thought of telling her that her daddy wouldn’t be coming today devastates you. You know how much she was looking forward to this exact moment. Nothing is as important as this right here. 

“She would have cried if you didn’t come. She loves those movie sessions with us, she loves to see us coming to pick her up every Sunday. This is what helps her to feel good. I don’t want to take this away from her, especially when she’s not feeling well.” 

Jimin presses a soft kiss on your forehead. Even if today you aren’t together anymore, he’s sure he chose the best mama for his baby. There’s nobody else he would have loved to have a kid with, and if he ever wants to have more, it’ll be with you. Nobody else. Even all the exes he has accumulated for the past three years can’t compare with you. 

His mother told him once that no matter what, he’ll always be drawn to you. Not only you are his first love, but you’re also the mother of his child. Even if you’ll never be together anymore, the love and bond between you will always be special. 

However, today, he’s convinced that it goes beyond that. Today, he’s convinced that he’ll never be able to love anyone else. Those last three years without you have taught him that. He has grown to understand that a life without you isn’t even possible. 

The two of you started dating when you were only fifteen. You were very young but madly in love. Nobody thought things would work between you because you were very different. Jimin was the typical bad boy while you were more of a discreet girl. It almost looked like a cliché teenage movie, but eventually, the two of you completely changed the other. 

After eight solid years of relationship, things started to get pretty rocky. All due to a friend you met at work. Jimin considered that he was clearly flirting with you, even in front of him when you strongly believed it wasn’t the case. Slowly, jealousy started to take a big place in your relationship and it destroyed the trust you both had for each other. 

Since you didn’t want to lose Jimin, you took some distance from that coworker but it was obvious that your relationship with your boyfriend would never be the same. Things were different but you were doing everything to try to save it. In the middle of all that turbulence, you got pregnant, and you both worked harder to make it work. 

Moon’s arrival clearly changed everything, but she didn’t help to improve your relationship. Everything was already falling apart when you got pregnant. When you realize it, you simply decide to end everything before it got worse. It wasn’t easy for the two of you. It was definitely hard to put behind ten years of love. 

But it was the best decision for Moon.       

“And how are you feeling?” 

Jimin knows that if Moon hasn’t slept, you didn’t too. His little girl always needs her mama when she’s not feeling well because nobody can bring as much comfort to her as you do. 

His concern warms your heart. Beyond being all flirty with you, Jimin has also shown a lot more love to you. In the end, you’re not just Moon’s mother. Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder because you need to feel him in any way. He puts his head on top of yours, his heart being overwhelmed with love. Two of the women he loves the most are snuggled up against him.  

“I’m tired, but I’ve known worse,” you whisper. 

The first weeks of Moon’s life were a nightmare, and you survived them. She was very tiny and needed her mother and father. She’d cry a lot which was totally normal for a newborn since she wasn’t able to take care of herself. On top of that, she was born prematurely so you’d visit the pediatrician quite often to make sure she’d be alright.  

So if you survived that period, you believe that nothing can be worse than that. 

Although your daughter is sleeping peacefully, you and Jimin keep watching the movie together. This feels like heaven for the two of you. Almost like you were brought back to three years ago. 

Once the movie is finished, Jimin takes Moon in his arms and places her on her little bed. He’s definitely not going to take her home now, he prefers that she sleeps. From her room’s door, you watch him put her carefully on the bed, an apparent smile growing on your face. He pushes the sheets on her tiny body before joining you. 

As his eyes roam your face, he tries to think of a way to express his wish to stay longer. He’s thinking about how to formulate it without sounding like a desperate man. However, he ignores that you want him to stay.  

“Do you want to stay until she wakes up?” you offer him. 

Without any second thoughts, he nods, more than happy to stay longer than he was supposed to initially.  

“A glass of wine?” you suggest. 

“No, I still need to drive Moon to my place,” he tells you. “But if you have anything else, I won’t say no.”  

Certainly, you have more than just wine to drink in your house. Your little daughter is too young to drink alcohol, but she’s obsessed with apple juice. You always make sure to have enough of her favorite juice at home so for sure you have some of it. The two of you leave her little room to head to the kitchen. Once you’re inside, you open the fridge to see what you have inside to drink. 

“I have some leftovers of Moon’s apple juice in the fridge,” you tell your ex. “Or I have water,” you show him the bottle on the worktop of the kitchen. 

“I’ll take the apple juice.” 

His fridge is also full of apple juice just for his little baby. Every Saturday, he does some grocery shopping, and he buys everything Moon loves. He constantly makes sure to have all her little things in his house in case some emergency appears and she has to stay with him on the week she’s supposed to be with you. 

You take the juice box as well as two glasses, and you fill them with the sweet juice. You hand one glass to Jimin before taking the other for yourself. His eyes never cease to glance at you. He takes one sip before putting his glass on the little table. The man comes closer to you, your heart hammering in your chest as the distance between the two of you slowly disappears. 

Your mind keeps wondering what he’s going to do. After ten years of relationship, you can easily say that this man right here is completely unpredictable. He can go from sweet to dirty in a blink of an eye. And when he gets dirty, he really gets super dirty. His super dirty mind will bring the two of you to bed, his head between your thighs. 

Once his face is super close to yours, your eyes are instantly fluttering shut. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you closing your eyes. His breathing caresses your face while his sweet scent lingers in the air. Your heart is beating extremely fast, ready to leave you at any moment. 

“There’s something we started last week that Moon didn’t let us finish,” he whispers in your ear with his deepest voice. 

Shivers run down your spine, and you keep your eyes close, too scared to take a look at the man in front of you. You perfectly can picture the expression on his face right now. For sure, the dirtiest smirk is on his face, and his eyes are filled with lust. That expression will for sure have you so weak that you’ll instantly fall into his arms. 

“What are you talking about?” you tease him a bit. 

You perfectly know what he’s referring to, but it won’t hurt to just play a tiny bit with him. Well, most probably, Jimin will tease you a million times more. 

“Do you want me to remind you?” 

Instantly, you open your eyes, your heart pounding extremely fast as you realize what is about to happen. For the past week, your mind has been thinking over and over again about the moment where you almost kissed. That moment, you desperately wanted to taste his lips on yours again but Moon put an end to that. 

Jimin’s eyes are hungrily devouring you while he waits for an answer from you. Your eyes move from his eyes to his plump lips, resting a little too much on them while you wonder how it will feel to kiss him again. Will it be like before? Or will it feel like kissing him for the first time? The more you think about it, the more you want to taste them.  

“Yes, remind me what Moon interrupted,” you almost beg. 

The black-haired man doesn’t waste another second before pressing his lips against yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he hungrily kisses you. 

After three years, you’re kissing again. It seems unbelievable.

His lips are extremely soft, but you were kind of expecting it. His plump lips have always felt soft when you both kiss, and you always loved that. However, even if you were expecting this softness, this kiss feels like the first one. This seems like it’s the first time you’re doing it while you have ten years of kissing history. Slowly, he starts moving his lips to passionately kiss you. 

Soon enough, his tongue is licking your lips so you can open your mouth. His tongue is desperate to meet yours after all this time. He’s desperate to deepen this kiss because just your lips on each other aren’t enough for him. He has been dreaming of this for the past couple of days. 

His hands move to your waist before bringing your body closer to his. He’s craving to feel more friction and to simply feel your body pressed against his. This sudden closeness after three years of simply co-parenting is driving both of you completely crazy. The two of you are starting to pant hard but it clearly doesn’t matter. 

His hands snail up to cup your face in them while the kiss becomes more and more ardent. This kiss is clearly indicating how desperate you both are for each other. The sexual tension has really been too much to handle lately. 

Out of breath, you break the kiss before pressing your forehead against his. Jimin is smiling, his eyes glued to your face while you try to catch your breath. Even after all those years, he still finds you extremely pretty and attractive.

As you look down at his hands, you notice the tattoo on his wrist. Four years ago, a couple of days after Moon’s birth, he got the number 13 tattooed. Not only does it stand for his birth date but it also stands for Moon’s birth date. Just like her father, she was born a 13. That tattoo always warms your heart in unexplained ways.    

“We should probably move to my room in case this goes any further,” you suggest before looking up at him.   

“But do you want to take this further?” Jimin asks. 

Even if your body is showing all the apparent signs that you want to do more than just kissing, he wants to be completely sure you want this. He doesn’t desire you to regret this tomorrow morning when you wake up. Even though this might be a simple one-night stand, he doesn’t want you to regret it. 

“More than you can imagine,” you reply before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

The father of your child kisses you back, more than excited to show you how much he misses you. You intertwine your fingers together before guiding you both to your bedroom. The two of you try to be as quiet as possible since Moon is peacefully sleeping, and you don’t want to wake her up after the terrible night she had.  

Once inside your bedroom, you make sure to close the door. It wouldn’t be a great idea to have Moon seeing you doing unholy things with her father. Hopefully, she’ll sleep for a good two extra hours, and you won’t need to worry about being caught by your daughter. But it’s better to take precautions.

Jimin’s eyes roam the room where he hasn’t ever come in three years. After your breakup, you sold your shared apartment to move into a new one. The memories shared in that place were too intense and none of you wanted to stay there. Quickly after, you moved into this apartment but the only room Jimin never got to see was your bedroom. 

There is barely any decoration. There’s just a big bed in the middle of the room, two nightstands, one on each side of the bed, and there are some pictures here and there, mostly pictures of Moon. This room reminds him of his own bedroom. 

After living with you, it was hard to be on his own. A bedroom without you by his side was also extremely hard so he decided to put the bare minimum. However, his bedroom feels constantly empty, almost as if someone is missing. Today, he’s convinced that you’re the one missing.      

Jimin kisses you again once his eyes have done a quick tour of your bedroom. Naturally, you move to your bed where you know things will take a sexual turn. You can still stop things if you desire but your body is desperately craving for your ex. Your body needs are completely clouding your mind, and you honestly don’t care. Right now, all you want is to be intoxicated by your first love. 

As you break the kiss, you take his brown polo off, revealing his bare skin to your hungry eyes. You enjoy the view while being sat on his lap; his torso is in full display just for you. The first thing that catches your eyes is his ‘nevermind’ tattoo, it’s still extremely big but you always loved this tattoo so damn much. Then, you can’t help but notice how toned his torso has become. 

“You’ve been working out a lot for the past three years,” you say as your fingers touch his rib tattoo. 

“After Moon’s birth, I became so lazy, and it was time to work out again like I used to.” 

Jimin used to work out so much before your daughter’s arrival. There wasn’t a day where he wasn’t at the gym working out or he wasn’t doing any sport. He used to dance a lot as well as doing karate. 

“Do you still dance?” 

Your fingers trace from his tattoo to his chest, causing Jimin to shiver at the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. 

“Of course, I never stopped,” he replies before pressing a quick kiss on your lips. “Dancing saved me after our breakup.” 

Hearing that your breakup equally devastated him breaks your heart. Jimin deserves all the best in the world because he’s such a beautiful soul. Never before have you met someone like him. He was your sunshine when you were together. Unfortunately, things weren’t working anymore, and it was definitely better to simply let go even if it was painful.  

And it was. 

Raising Moon on your own and not having Jimin constantly by your side was extremely hard. For sure, it was the most complicated time you faced in your life. But today, things are better and that experience made you grow as a human.  

You press your lips against his, expecting to reassure him in some way. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants. As the sweet moan leaves your lips, you open your mouth, and Jimin seizes the occasion to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Another moan leaves your pretty lips at the feeling, and unintentionally, Jimin flexes his toned thigh. That simple action is felt in all the right places in your body, making your pussy clench around emptiness. 

Jimin instantly smirks, looking like the devil himself, and his hands snail down on your body to take off your shirt. His fingers softly caress your back as he brings you closer to him. His soft gestures create goosebumps all over your skin and a small whimper leaves your lips. 

His lips come closer to your ear before he whispers in the shell of it. “Take your pants off, honey.” 

Slowly, you stand up to undress in front of the man. He bites his lower lip as you unbutton your jeans, his length growing harder in his pants at the sight you’re offering him. He hasn’t seen you dressed in so little clothing in more than four years. The last time it happened was during your pregnancy. After Moon’s birth, you simply avoid having any sexual interactions. 

His cock twitches when he sees you wearing only your underwear. Even after giving birth to his favorite human, you look fine as hell. The thought of knowing that in a couple of minutes you won’t be wearing anything is slowly driving him crazy. 

When you start walking closer to him, Jimin adjusts himself in the bed, his back pressed against the headboard. He spreads his legs, subtly making you understand to take a seat on only one leg. There’s no doubt that he wants you to ride his thigh, and nothing in the world would make you happier than doing it.

Dry humping is something you used to do a lot when you were together. Your sex drive was insanely high during your whole relationship, and you’d have sex in very unusual places, even in public. It was hard to resist each other.

As you place yourself on his thigh, Jimin’s eyes roam your body. He bites harder on his bottom lip, especially once your body is on his thigh. This is highly alluring. 

“You look like a fucking dream!” He whispers. 

In those three years, he has seen a very huge amount of women but you are for sure the prettiest he has ever seen. He still perfectly remembers how he constantly compared all those women to you. It was most probably toxic, but you’re the only person he has ever found pretty. 

The compliment makes you smile as you know it’s a sincere one. After giving birth to Moon, it was hard to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body changed so much but with time, you learned to love it even more than before. That body you were despising was the first home to your baby and it also provided her all the nutrients she needed after she joined you. That was more than magical. Your body deserved to be loved for that.  

With the way you’re sitting on his leg, Jimin now has a proper view of your black laced panties. They hide enough of your private area but they also reveal just enough to make him want to see your pussy. His eyes are completely glued to your clothed pussy pressed against his dark pants.  

As you’re scared that Moon will wake up in the next few minutes, you waste no time in rolling your hips against his toned thigh. One of the perks of all the dancing and karate classes he took younger is his extremely toned thighs. Even when he stops working out or dancing, they are still super toned. 

But damn, those thighs have already procured you so much pleasure. 

“Fuck, yn,” he groans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.  

Jimin presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips to meet yours. This feels more than good. He forgot how everything about you can be addictive, and damn, he wants to do more than this. He wants to fuck you senseless until all you can think about is him. 

As his tongue plays with yours inside your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. Those intimate moments between you are something he has missed dearly. The connection you have is something extremely unique that he never experienced before with anyone else. 

Even if he wasn’t virgin when he met you, he truly discovered everything with you. The two of you explored so many things in your sexuality, and it made the bond between you grow stronger. When he looks into your eyes, he can exactly tell what you want, he doesn’t need you to verbally express it, something he couldn’t understand with any other girl.      

Your first love pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy before flexing the muscle once more.  

“I like how you’re riding my thigh, yn,” he whispers against your lips. 

As you’re slowly moving your hips faster, you place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Jimin shivers as your soft hands touch his body.  

“But I want to feel you properly,” he adds. 

Of course, he’s enjoying this moment with all his soul but he craves more. One of his hands slides down on your body to tug aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his black pants. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against the thick material of his pants.   

Jimin pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. Although you’re fighting as much as you can to not moan a lot, it’s almost impossible due to all the pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. This will for sure wake up your little baby. A trail of barely audible moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy. 

“I wish you didn’t have to hold back your moans, honey,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’d love to hear you moan my name.”  

Jimin is a master when it comes to dirty talking. He just knows what to say and when to do it. In your ten years of relationship, he was able to make you come just with words which is extremely incredible.  

As you’re riding his thigh harder and faster, his cock gets harder and tighter inside his pants. If he doesn’t do anything right now, he’ll explode in his pants. While you’re still completely euphoric by the way you’re riding his thigh, he lowers his pants and underwear a tiny bit to allow his cock to slap against his lower stomach. 

When you notice the little monster being freed, your eyes glance down at it. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. His fingers grab a hold of his cock before moving them up and down the length. This sight alone gets you wetter. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, honey.” 

Your teeth bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you. You know that you won’t last long before your orgasm hits you hard.  

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls in your ear while his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s extremely hot, honey.”  

Jimin runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, his teeth gripping his bottom lip between his teeth. The pace of his strokes on his cock follows the pace of your hips working on his thigh. You can see on his face that it’s also a matter of minutes or seconds before he’s coming on his hand. 

“Fuck, yn,” his eyes glance down at your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing it perfectly.” 

At his words, you buck your pussy faster against his thigh. You can feel that you’re getting closer and closer to hitting your orgasm.  

“Jimin,” his gaze meets yours once again when you say his name, “I’m so close...” you almost whimper.  

The hand resting on your waist snails down on your body, his thumb starting to circle on your clit. It instantly sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you hard. You bite your lips and close your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. You try as hard as possible to not moan as you don’t want to make too much noise.  

The sight of you coming undone makes him come. Just like you, he bites his lips to refrain any moan to leave his lips. Your daughter’s sleep is extremely important. As the orgasm overwhelms him, cum flows on his hand and some spurts of cum hit his abs. 

Your eyes glance down with marvel at the way he’s coming. His hot cum flowing from his head makes you want to lick it. Before any of you gets the time to do or say anything else, you hear the handle of your bedroom’s door moving. 

“Shit, she’s awake,” you swear before quickly standing up to put your clothes back on. 

As you’re putting the clothes on again, you give Jimin some towels to clean himself before he also puts his clothes back on. A loud knock is quickly heard, and Moon’s voice calls for you. Her little sleepy voice melts your heart instantly, causing you to feel sorry to have closed the door. But damn, you don’t regret anything that happened with Jimin.  

Moon knocks again at the door before speaking once more. “Mama, why is your door closed?”

Once you’re fully dressed, you take one quick look at Jimin. His clothes are again on him but his hair is all messed up. Anyone looking at him can perfectly understand that he just had an orgasm. A small smile appears on your face. 

Quickly, you run to the door and open it to your baby. To her surprise, she sees both her parents in the same room. That is something quite unexpected for her, but she’s happy that her mama and dadda get along so well. 

“Why is dadda in your room?” She asks, her little finger pointing to her father. 

As she raises the question, you know that you have like five seconds to come up with something otherwise it’ll be suspicious. Jimin gets closer to the two of you, his hand pushing his hair back to arrange it a bit. 

“We were taking a little nap while you were sleeping,” he presses a small kiss on her forehead before taking her in his arms. “But how are you feeling, my little princess?” 

Jimin knows that if he completely changes the conversation’s topic, Moon will forget about this little weird moment. None of you ever imagined being interrupted by your little daughter during such a moment, but that for sure made it unforgettable. 

“Tired,” she simply replies before pressing her little head on the crook of his neck. 

Your heart instantly melts, and you can’t help but press a soft kiss on her forehead. She’s absolutely adorable but you know that she’s sick. For sure, tomorrow, you’ll have to go to the doctor with her to see what’s going on with your little baby. You and Jimin hate to see her like that, you feel extremely powerless. 

Jimin’s aware that he can’t just take her home like that, she needs her mama more than anything else right now. 

“I’ll take you home with me now, baby,” he starts saying. “What do you think if mama comes with us?” 

His eyes glance down at you to see your reaction. He believes it’d be a good idea that the three of you go to his place so Moon can fall asleep easier tonight. 

“If mama is okay to come with us,” he adds. 

Your hand brushes back your daughter’s hair so you can see her little face even if she’s hiding most of it. Nothing will ease your heart than going with them to Jimin’s place. Tonight, you know you won’t be able to sleep if she’s far away from you while being sick. 

“I will come with you, booboo. Is that okay for you?” You ask her before pressing a sweet kiss on her plump cheek. 

Of course, you’ll only go if she wants it. You would never want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. You’ve already been a lot of times to his place when she was feeling sick, and it wouldn’t be something new. But this time around is different, you’ll be leaving your place together to go to his place. This never happened before, and you’re a bit scared that she wouldn’t feel comfortable. 

“Yes, I want mama,” she says with a very little voice. 

Your heart aches at her little voice. You hug Jimin to have your daughter in between the two of you. Feeling loved during this hard time for her will for sure help her, you know it. She always calls for the missing parent when she’s sick. 

“I’ll come then,” you whisper. 

Although this little hug is mostly for your daughter, your and Jimin’s hearts are also overwhelmed with love. This sweet and soft moment right after such a wild moment feels like going to heaven. The three of you close your eyes to enjoy this very rare moment. 

This is family, an unbreakable bond between parents and their children.  

The three of you are in Jimin’s kitchen. 

Moon is sleeping once again in her father’s arms, she fell asleep right after eating her dinner, and you and Jimin are talking. After arriving at his place, you and her father prepared dinner together. You also took her temperature, and it’s unusually high. There’s no doubt that tomorrow, you’ll call her pediatrician to check up on her health. Something is definitely wrong with her, and it breaks your heart. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll call the pediatrician to check if she has some availabilities.” 

Your fingers run through her soft black hair, the exact same hair color as her father’s. She looks like a little angel when she sleeps, and when she’s sick, her little cheeks get pink which makes her look even cuter. 

“I’m so worried,” you add. 

Jimin’s eyes move from his daughter to you. 

“She’s going to be okay, she’s a little fighter like her mama,” he tries to reassure you. “She’ll be fine in a week or so.” 

“I know but my little mom’s heart always gets so concerned when she gets sick.” 

His face gets closer to yours before his lips press a soft kiss on top of your head. This tender gesture really warms your heart. You’re more than thankful to have him by your side when it gets hard with Moon. 

“It’s normal, but I’ll always be by your side, yn.” 

When your eyes look up at the man holding your baby, you close the small distance between your faces by kissing him. Those past few days and especially today have confirmed that the flame that you thought had died three years ago is still there. Your heart still deeply loves Jimin. Your ex wasn’t expecting this at all but it definitely brings hope for the future. 

“Thank you, Jimin.” 

He presses another quick kiss on your lips. 

“We've been on this together since the second Moon bloomed in your stomach,” his eyes look down at the little princess sleeping in his arms. 

Being a father has been the biggest achievement of his life. Nothing brings more happiness than seeing his daughter bloom into the little person she’s becoming. She’s very strong and independent which always makes him feel pride. 

Becoming the father of Moon only happened because you carried her for nine months before giving birth to her. He’s a father because the two of you worked together to bring her to life and to raise her. So, he’ll forever be thankful for it. 

“I’ll put her in her bed, she’ll be more comfortable,” Jimin says before the two of you stand up. He holds Moon tightly in his arms as he walks to her little bedroom. You open the door for him, and once again, he puts her on her bed. 

Hopefully, tonight, she’ll be able to sleep a bit more than she did last night as well as during the day. Your eyes glance down at your baby with concern. All you hope is that tomorrow she’ll feel at least a bit better because you won’t be able to handle seeing her like this for a long time. 

Jimin leaves her bedroom after he makes sure that she’s safe under her bedsheets. Since Moon is deeply afraid of the dark, he leaves the door open so the light of the hallway lightens her room. 

“Would you like to stay a little longer?” he asks while you’re walking in the hallway. “I’d like to suggest bringing you home,” he quickly glances at his daughter’s bedroom, “but there’s Moon.” 

Jimin would have loved to drive you home so he’d get a tiny bit more time with you. However, his little princess is sleeping in her little bed. He can’t leave her here or to take her with you. 

Your heart is beating fast. It’s a bit surprising that he’s proposing you to stay at his place. Well, it occurs you that maybe ⏤  just maybe ⏤  he wants to finish what you started at your place. You wouldn’t mind at all to end what you began earlier. Sex with Jimin has always been mind blowing. For sure, after three years, you still have to rediscover each other in bed.  

“Well, I’d like to if you let me,” you finally say with obvious nervousness in your voice. 

A bright smile appears on his face as he hears your words. He doesn’t dare to look at you as he also feels nervous. Obviously, he likes you and wants to maybe give another chance to your relationship. 

But being around you, and even thinking of spending the night with you, makes him feel like this is all new. It makes him feel like he’s back to high school when he was trying to flirt with you more than ten years ago. 

“There’s nothing I’d like more, yn,” he says while finally looking at you. 

You’re now at the entrance of the living room, standing face to face. He leans against the outline of the door while crossing his arms against his chest, his eyes never once leaving yours. For a moment, you simply don’t speak, only looking at each other. 

His eyes are sparkling, just like they did when you started dating thirteen years ago. You wonder if you’re looking at him the same way. Definitely, you really want to stay a little longer with him. It feels good to be around him. It feels good to be wanted all over again by your first love. 

“In all honesty, yn,” Jimin says after a little while. “I would really like to give us a second chance.” 

The past three years, he has been hooking up with a lot of girls. At first, it was to drown his sorrows, to get you out of his head. He knew he’d never find love in those women, and honestly, he didn’t want to love any of them. The pain of the breakup was still hard to handle. 

However, a year ago, he fell in love with Gayeong. He really loved her, he even introduced her to Moon. In his mind, he was certain that he’d be with her for a long time. On your side, you were dating Seokhoon for two years. This new blended family was working just fine for all of you. Moon even adored Gayeong and Seokhoon. 

Nevertheless, things with them ended. It was hard but slowly, everything changed between you. What was an innocent flirt turned into Sunday’s movies and suddenly, you’re here, wanting to give each other another chance. 

And now, your heart is hammering like crazy in your chest, ready to burst any second.  

“Flirting with you lately has brought me back to when we were fifteen,” a little smile appears on his face. “To when I was trying to desperately get you.” 

You still remember perfectly how it felt to be chased by the one and only Jimin, the popular guy every girl desired to be with. You were young and very naive as well, but he was the first man to have ever truly seen you. Of course, you really wanted to start dating him, but you still make it a bit difficult for him to see how far he’d go to have you. 

However, once you got together, you thought it’d be for life. Time prouved you wrong. Yet, lately, you’ve been feeling like probably he has been the one since the beginning. Maybe, you just needed some time apart to grow.  

“Things are for sure different now due to the fact that we have a daughter,” his smile grows bigger as he mentions his daughter. “But the feeling is the same,” he pauses for a hot minute. “I want you.” 

Right there and then, you feel the world freezing instantly. Even though it was pretty clear that he’s been wanting you back in your life, it’s something different to hear it from his mouth. It makes it feel real. 

Although it warms your heart to hear those words, there is a harsh reality. Today, you have a daughter, and obviously, she’d understand you’re together. Most probably, she’d be super happy that her parents are back together. So, if things go wrong all over again, she’ll suffer the most from it. 

There’s no doubt that no matter what, you’ll keep it cordial with Jimin. But it’d be too painful because this time around, Moon will be hurt. 

“Jimin,” you break the small distance between you. Your face gets super serious, and Jimin almost instantly regrets his words. “As you said, things are different now. We can’t just step into a relationship like that. There’s Moon. If this all goes wrong, she’d be the first impacted.” 

His eyes briefly close. The last thing he wants is to cause any harm to his daughter, but he can’t just push away his feelings for you. It’ll be unbearable to be around you and not be able to love you the way he wants.  

“I know, yn,” he opens his eyes. “She’s always the person I put first under any circumstances,” his right hand travels to your cheek to caress it. “But right now, you’re the person I want to be with,” you close your eyes. “This whole thing of watching movies together wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t love you,” he marks a little break. “I never stopped loving you, yn. Never,” he insists on his last word. 

Jimin being vulnerable like he is right now doesn’t happen often. Most of the time, he hides his feelings, too scared to be hurt. During your ten years of relationship, he wouldn’t hide anything from you. But he closed himself to you once you broke up. So this right here warms your heart beyond comprehension. 

You rest your hand on top of his, stroking it with your thumb. “I don’t want to get hurt,” evident sadness can be heard in your voice. “I don’t want our daughter to get hurt.” 

Your daughter’s father wishes he could promise that none of you will get hurt, but it’s a promise he can’t make. The future isn’t predictable. However, he can promise he will do everything in his power to avoid hurting any of you. 

“I can’t promise that, yn,” he murmurs. 

Hearing those words break your heart. It’s obvious he can’t guarantee that, life is full of surprises after all. The proof is that you broke up three years ago when you thought he’ll forever stood by your side. 

“But I can promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to not do it,” you open your eyes to look at your first love. “That’s all I can do.” 

You press your head against his chest while closing your eyes. Although you wish he’d say something else, you perfectly know that it’s the only thing he can promise. And it goes both ways. Obviously, you want to try again but there is a possibility where you’re the one hurting him. There is possibility where you’re responsible for your daughter’s pain. 

Jimin wraps his arms around you before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head. For a while, you simply stay like that. There’s nothing to be said nor that needs to be said. This is a moment you both need. Of course, there’s been a lot of flirting, and teasing lately which inevitably lead to what happened at your place. You don’t regret it. But it opens the door to a possibility where you both give another shot to your relationship. 

However, it leaves you wondering if it is a good idea. 

“Can I stay for the night?” you finally break the silence.”I don’t want to stay too far from Moon,” you try to find an excuse. 

“Yes,” he instantly replies. “I’ll leave you my bed and I’ll sleep in the couch.” 

This sounds like the correct approach, especially since you’re not sure about anything right now. Even though there’s nothing more you’d want but to sleep next to him, it’s better like that. 

“I can sleep in the couch,” you tell him. “I almost invited myself to your place so no need to make you sleep on the couch.” 

“You’re my guest so I’ll never make you sleep in my couch,” he starts saying. “And my couch can turn into a bed so don’t worry, yn.” 

Well, knowing Jimin, you can argue as much as you can, he’ll stand his position. There’s no way he’ll let you sleep on the couch so no need to keep arguing. It’ll just be a waste of time for both of you. 

“Okay,” you say. 

You don’t let go of Jimin for a solid ten more minutes. It feels good to be in his arms, it feels good to only be intoxicated by his sweet scent. There’s no other place you’d want to be right now. 

After that, he guids you to his bedroom. This is a place you’ve never seen before. It feels like you’re violating his intimate area. Your eyes wander in this very simply decorated room while he grabs some bedsheets.  

“Would you want pajamas?” he proposes. 

“If you don’t mind.” 

Jimin simply nods before handing you one of his pajamas. He doesn’t have many pajamas, he only used them during winter as it gets very cold. Otherwise, he doesn’t use them at all. 

“Thanks,” you smile at him while grabbing it. 

Your baby’s daddy smiles back at you. “I’ll let you sleep. Let me know if you need anything else.” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” you tell him. 

“Goodnight, yn,” he whispers before pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Goodnight, Jimin,” you reply with your eyes closed. 

This morning, Moon woke up feeling great which was a huge contrast with how she was yesterday. But it eased your mother’s heart. So you took the decision with Jimin to not go to the pediatrician today, but you’ll keep a close eye on your baby. 

When she saw you this morning, she was more than happy. She definitely wasn’t expecting it, you could tell it by the way her eyes were sparkling. She was even happier when both her parents dropped her at school. Afterwards, Jimin drove you to your place so you could get ready to go to work. 

This weekend was intense, but one you’ll for sure never forget. You flirted with your ex-boyfriend, then had sex with him, and finally, had an openhearted conversation. 

The entire day, your mind was constantly replaying Jimin's words, wondering what to do. However, what you’re certain of is that you want to have a conversation with him. So, you texted him that your mother would pick up Moon at school. 

Jimin is the proud owner of a coffee shop. He opened it a couple of years ago, it was his dream. It wasn’t easy at first. There were a lot of expenses and it wasn’t easy to find customers. But slowly with time, it became easier. 

As you step inside the little shop, you instantly notice that there are quite a lot of people. You aren’t actually very surprised. This coffee shop is currently a bit popular on instagram and tiktok, and in some way, it makes you incredibly proud of him. 

Your eyes look around, admiring how it has been decorated. It’s been a while since you last came here. Well, if you think about it, the last time you were here was at the very early beginning. This shop has existed for like four years, it’s as old as Moon. So, it definitely has been awhile.  

Jimin now has four employees helping him out with everything. At some point, it became just too much for one person so he slowly hired new people. Right now, he is behind the cash register, talking with someone. He’s smiling at the person, and you can’t help but find him adorable. 

As he looks up, his gaze meets yours before his smile grows bigger. Although you informed him you’d like to speak, he wasn’t expecting you to actually come here. He thought that you’d like him to come to your place or something like that. However, it’s a very pleasant surprise. 

You walk in his direction, queueing as it’d be rude to just pass before everyone else. You look at menu hanging behind Jimin, thinking about what you’d like to order. When you’re finally in front of him, you both look at each other with the brightest smiles. 

“What would you like to order?” he asks. 

“Well, I’d like to order the owner,” you teasingly say, causing Jimin to blush. “Together with a simple latte with soy milk and a portion of banana bread.” 

For a brief moment, your baby daddy seems to be thinking about what he could reply to this. 

“I can give you all of that,” he replies. “For the owner though, you’ll have to wait a little longer.” 

“No problem,” you know you both look like two idiots right now but you absolutely don’t care. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Nothing, it’s on the house.” 

“I can’t accept that, Mister Park,” you instantly say with evident seriousness. 

Jimin sighs. If he even tries to argue, he knows it’s a lost cause. He knows how damn well you can be very subborn. So he ends up making you pay for your order. You then head to the counter on your right to wait for your order, but the wait isn’t long as a server quickly brings it to you. Afterwards, you look for a place to sit while you wait for Jimin, aka the man who owns your heart. 

Since it’s almost closing time, it slowly gets less and less crowded. Once there are barely any customer left, Jimin takes a seat on the chair in front of yours, your bodies being only separated by a table. 

“Wasn’t expecting you to come,” he smiles at you. 

“Me neither,” you reply. “I decided last minute,” you continue. “I was going to wait at my place, but then I wanted to see your coffee shop.” 

Jimin doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now. For sure, it’s been a long time that he hasn’t seen you here. Last time, Moon was only a couple of months old. 

“I’m very glad you came.” 

Seeing him this happy warms your heart beyond comprehension. On top of that, being around him lately also makes you happy. He’s obviously a fucking tease, but he’s someone you deeply care for and love too. 

“Me too.” 

“So where do you want to go?” he asks while placing his elbows on the table to rest his head on his hands. 

“Maybe to my place?” you suggest. “Or yours if you prefer.” 

“Both suit me,” he says. “Then, we can go to yours.” 

He isn’t sure what you want to talk about, but as long as he gets to spend a tiny bit more time with you, it makes him happy. 

You simply nod at his answer, and he quickly informs one of his employees to close the store since he’s leaving now. In a matter of seconds, he’s back again so you both can go to your place. 

Jimin drives you to your place, and quite honestly, it’s incredibly hot to see him driving. As you sometimes eye him during the drive, seeing him so focus reminds you of your own daughter. She has the same face when she’s deeply concentrate. It always startles you how much she takes after him. 

Once you arrive at your place, you both take a seat on the couch. Your love interest looks at you with evident joy, you don’t doubt at all that he’s glad to be here with you. Honestly, you’re happy as well. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about yesterday’s conversation,” you decide to not waste any second and jump directly into the much needed conversation. Jimin nods. “I guess you could understand by all that has been going on that I want you too.” 

Jimin’s heart starts beating crazily in his chest. He’s more than aware of it, but it still makes him feel something to hear those words coming out of your mouth. 

“I also never stopped loving you, and honestly, I only realized it when this whole Sunday’s movies happened.” 

During your relationship with Seokhoon, you thought you had gotten over Jimin. It wasn’t easy sometimes to see him when you’d pick up Moon, but you were convinced you had moved on. Honestly, it was just a mirage. You never stopped loving him, and flirting with him is what made you realized it. 

“I guess I will never stop,” you add. “I would also like to give us a second chance, but I’m so scared of everything.” 

Jimin gets closer to you. 

“I’m afraid to be losing you all over again, I’m afraid to unintentionally hurt you, and Moon, I’m afraid that this time around it won’t work, and I’m afraid of too many things,” you admit. “This time around, I feel like our decision will have a bigger impact on everything.” 

Jimin is beyond grateful that you openly speak about your concerns. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable in front of someone we love. 

“For sure, it will,” he tells you. “So much has happened since we started dating thirteen years ago, but we still want to be together.” Jimin makes a small break, his eyes roaming your face. “It won’t be easy, but we can at least try. We can still give each other another chance while still being careful.” 

You bite your lower lip as you think about the situation. There is no doubt you’ll keep flirting as you still deeply crave each other. There will be more sex since you can’t resist each other. No matter what you decide, it won’t change the reality. At least, if you give your relationship another shot, on top of all this physical attraction, there will be romance. 

“However, I’m not really sure how we could hide this from Moon, but we’ll have to be careful,” he says. 

“Me neither,” you say. “She was so happy this morning to see us.” 

You can still picture her radiant smile and the joy on her face when she spotted you at her dadda’s place. Naturally, you wish to constantly see her this happy but for now, it’s best she can’t imagine you being together again.

“Yeah, she really was,” Jimin smiles with evident joy. 

Right now, being with Jimin is the only thing you desire with your entire soul, but as you said before, you’re simply afraid of too many things. However, for the entirety of the day, you’ve only been thinking about the fact that if you don’t try, you’ll deeply regret it. You can’t predict the future and there is a possibility where this doesn’t end well, but you’ll never know if you don’t try. 

Maybe you’ll be extremely happy and fulfilled. 

“I love being around you,” you say. “I really love our Sunday’s movie sessions, and I would like to turn it into an everyday thing.” Your heart is beating crazingly in your chest. “I’m very afraid, but I want to try because I love you.” 

Jimin’s heart is ready to burst any minute. 

“I just want us to protect Moon as we’ve been doing so far and to only let her know once we believe it’s the right time.” 

Moon’s father wraps you around his arms as he’s noticeably happy. Even though he expected this conversation to be about a possible relationship, he never thought that you’d actually say that you wanted to try. He believed that you’d needed some more time before noticing the obvious. 

However, he’s extremely happy to hear those words. 

This hug catches you by surprise but it’s a very welcomed one. Jimin’s embraces are your favorite place on earth. Even when you were going through a break up, he hugged you a couple of times and it felt great. For a minute, it felt like everything was still going well. 

“I’ll promise I’ll do everything to never hurt you,” he whispers in your ear. 

Your eyes flutter shut to savour this wonderful moment. 

“Me too,” you whisper as well. 

Those promises are the only ones you can make. All the rest will obviously depend on external factors, but hopefully, it won’t cause any harm to your relationship. 

Less than a year ago, none of you imagined this moment would happen. Back then, you were in happy relationships so this would be the last thing you’d think of. But you’re definitely in very different places today. 

When you put an end to the hug, you fervently and desperately kiss each other. You kiss as if there’s no tomorrow. His tongue meets yours in your mouth, your teeth bite his lower lips, and soft moans escape both your moans as your eagerly kiss each other. It’s a kiss filled with passion.  

“We didn’t finish what we started here yesterday,” he says against your lips and out of breathe. “Would you mind if we finish it?” 

Your eyes look up at him. One of his hands place a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“Well, it depends what you have in mind…” You tease him before biting your lower lip. 

A smirk grows on his face before he gets even closer to you. 

“I was planning to have sex with you.” He whispers in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Instead of replying, you just press your lips again against his to kiss him. There’s no hesitation when he kisses you back, enjoying every second of being able to kiss you again. 

“Maybe we should move to my bedroom,” you say. 

Jimin simply stands up before holding your hand and rapidly walking to your bedroom. By the way he’s walking fast, you can tell how needy he’s right now.     

“Take your clothes off, honey,” he says once you've reached your bedroom. “I need you, now.” 

You simply nod before stripping for him. The urge can be felt as you quickly take off your clothes while he does the exact same thing. Jimin doesn’t want to wait anymore, he wants to have you in every possible way. After all, it feels like he has been waiting three years for this moment. 

You also take off your underwear, offering him the opportunity to see your body completely naked for the first time in three years. Jimin takes the time to roam your body once he’s also naked. He still remembers how your body was before you split. Although most of your pregnant belly had disappeared, it wasn’t how it was before you got pregnant.

But today, as he looks at you, it almost feels like you’ve never been pregnant. There are no visible indications of pregnancy, but your body has clearly changed. He can’t really express it into words but you’re different, and he loves it. He loves every single part of you. 

On the other hand, Jimin’s body is being hungrily scanned by your lust-filled eyes. He has also changed, he’s not the same anymore. His body is definitely more toned than before. For sure, he’s a damn dilf. 

As you both look at each other, it feels like you’re discovering the other for the first time. Almost as if you’re about to have sex for the first time. Well, your first time together was a little bit awkward but you made it through together.    

“Lay in bed, baby,” he instructs you once you’ve both finished glancing at each other. 

The urge he’s feeling is something that you sense, and you can understand it. If Moon hadn’t woken up, you would have had sex right after that mind-blowing thigh riding. You don’t even question his commands, laying on his bed. His body hovers over you, his eyes getting lost in yours. 

It’s been a long time that you both haven’t found each other in this exact position.  

“I missed you,” he admits with a deep voice, his thumb caressing your cheek. 

At the feeling of his soft finger on your face, you close your eyes. The love you share with Jimin has always been so sweet. A sweet love.

“I missed you too, Jimin,” you answer before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Without any warning, his other hand moves down to your core, his fingers brushing over your folds, snatching a moan out of you. His thumb rubs your clit, making you moan even more. He’s doing this to prepare you for his cock, knowing perfectly that he can’t just slip it into you, it’ll hurt you too much. 

Once he feels you’re wet enough, he stops torturing your clit with his fingers. He places himself in between your legs, spreading them a bit more while he pumps his cock with one hand, getting ready for you. His face leans closer to yours, his lips finding yours for a passionate kiss as he buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls. 

For the past three years, you’ve had sex with other men. It was good, and with others, it was like going to heaven. But having Jimin’s cock pushing inside you is like going back home. Jimin is your first love, he was the first man with whom you had sexual activities. Then, for ten years, he was the only man you ever had sex with. So, in a way, your body considered him as your home. 

Having sex today with him is like you’ve found your way back home.   

His cute little hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin. Both of you softly groan as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside you, but his lips swallow every sound. Your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his length stretching you open.   

Jimin takes a little step back to take a look at the wonderful woman beneath him. As he does so, he gives you the time to adjust to his thick size. 

“Did I already tell you how pretty you are?” he asks before he leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you. You shake your head because you want to hear him say it. “You’re so damn pretty, yn!” 

His lips kiss yours once more, but honestly, all this making out feels amazing. It brings peace to your soul. A much needed peace.  

“I’m going to fuck you nice and slow,” his deep voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

When he takes that deep voice, you just want to come because damn, it’s so sexy.

“Go for it, Jimin,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him.

Honestly, all you want is to be fucked rough and good as he used to do it before. You want to see if this older version of Jimin can still keep up with how he used to fuck you four years ago. He pulls back a bit to look at you in the eyes, a smirk rising on his face. 

“After this, you won’t be able to walk.” 

You desire nothing more than this. To be completely sore.

Jimin slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you holding back every moan that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“It’s so good to feel you again around me.” 

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and this time around, you can’t hold back a moan. A smirk appears on his face as he realizes that this time around, he managed to cause a little moan to leave your pretty lips. 

For a little while, he doesn't move. He’s only hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes glance down on your body. Watching your pussy sucking his cock is something that he used to love to do.  

Jimin groans as he watches himself buried deep inside you. “Your cunt takes me so well, honey.” 

You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you. 

Your first love once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is also something he deeply missed, so he’s for sure going to make you beg all night long. 

“Jimin, move,” you start saying. “Please,” you beg.  

As he loves to hear you begging for more, he just gives you what you want, pushing his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock quickly fills the room. 

“Shit,” he gasps, thrusting into you with no mercy, “you feel so good.”

You’re completely drunk in the feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jimin smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.

Everything about the moment that is happening right now is something you both missed so dearly. These past few days of flirting with each other caused your feelings and the physical attraction to grow a lot. It wouldn’t surprise any of you if you keep doing this all night long.   

His cock is buried deep inside you, causing you to grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jimin’s hard thrusts.

“You’re so fucking wet, honey,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. 

His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, you can see it in his eyes. 

Jimin bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he swallows directly. His hands move up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them before his fingers start playing with your nipples. 

“It feels wonderful,” you whisper as you’re completely lost in your euphoria.

Slowly, Jimin begins to thrust hard into you again, your walls sucking in his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. His fingers keep playing with your very sensitive nipples, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you.

His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further. 

Small groans leave his lips when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, honey.” 

The sweat is dampening his body, sticking his black long hair to his face. With your hands, you push some strands of hair to be able to have a proper look at his handsome face. Jimin looks like a god right now.  

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper as you move your hips to meet his thrust. 

The man over you smiles at your compliment. It always feels heartwarming to hear you compliment him. 

“Thanks, honey,” he presses another sloppy kiss on your lips while you keep creaming his cock with your arousal. 

As he keeps thrusting into you, he senses how close you are. He knows that the vision of you coming will make him come as well. But before that happens, he needs to know where you want him to come. 

“Where do you want me to come?” he asks, panting hard. 

“On my belly,” you say as you touch your lower stomach. 

For the moment, it’s better to not have him coming inside you. There’s absolutely no way you’ll get pregnant right now. You’re already scared of what is going on right now, and it’s better to avoid adding a second child to the mix. It’s preferable to enjoy your reunion. 

His fingers pinch your nipples harder, making the wave of pleasure grow bigger inside you. 

“I’m gonna come,” you exclaim with despair. 

Jimin’s cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his throat. One of his hands slowly snails down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot. 

The simple feeling of his cold fingers against your clit is what you need to be completely hit by your orgasm, making you come hard around him. Your arousal completely covers his cock while your walls are squeezing him on repeat. 

While you’re completely lost in your euphoria, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you to chase his own high.  

The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. The only thing he sees is the image of you coming under him. Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock. His eyes are completely hypnotized by your body.

With despair, he pushes his cock out of you with his left hand. Instantly, hot spurts of cum are being projected over your stomach. Breathy moans escaping both your lips, a smile appearing on your face as you feel his sperm touching your skin.   

Jimin collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in his bedroom, but you quickly stand up to grab a towel to clean yourself before his cum gets dry on your stomach. 

Once cleaned, you hand him the towel so he can clean himself. “Well, this was something,” he says with a bright smile on his face while rubbing his cock with the towel. 

“It definitely was,” you answer as you grab your bra and panties to put them back on. “Although you’re older, you’re still very good at it.” 

“For the past three years, I’ve been taking care of other gardens,” you frown, not understanding what this guy is saying. 

“You’re comparing a pussy with a garden?” you ask with obvious confusion and disbelief. 

Jimin starts laughing at your reaction. He has an inside joke with his friends about gardening. Instead of saying that they are having sex, they’ll say that they are going to do some gardening. It all started when they were drunk and started comparing sex with gardening. 

They said that it’s the exact same thing. For gardening, you take care of a garden, and for fucking, you take care of a pretty pussy. It’s weird, but it’s better to not raise any questions. 

“Eeeh, you have a pretty little garden, honey,” he says while coming next to you to hold you in his arms. 

“You’re weird,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss on his plump lips. 

“And you love my weirdness,” you nod. 

Jimin is your weirdo. 

“Since Moon is with your parents, we could perhaps spend the night together and maybe go to a restaurant?” he suggests. 

You nod once more before resting your head on his chest. It feels wonderful to be around him again. It makes you feel at home, and it’s such a powerful feeling. Even though you’re absolutely scared of what the future might hold, you feel a sense of completeness right now. It almost feels like everything is falling into place now. 

You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with your first love.