#my other favorite thing happening in the notes is people tagging their friends' names

[jackhues]

WHO WILLIAM? - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART TWO ]

in which y/n's enjoying playing the part of paddock princess after a... not so great race (bahrain 24)

[ prev ] | [ next ] | [ notes ] | [ masterlist ]

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y/nhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & others

y/nhamilton: motorsports is alive and well people 🏎️

tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon

y/nhamilton: also @/landonorris i want my bracelet back -> landonorris: no. -> username: lando + stealing y/n's accessories. name a better duo -> y/nhamilton: him giving them back to me

username: i bet her and the williams boys were just talking shit about all of the cars and eating ice cream liked by y/nhamilton

logansargeant: you're welcome for the ice cream! -> y/nhamilton: thank you very much logan, the ice cream was my favourite part of the day -> logansargeant: favorite* -> y/nhamilton: go away you american -> username: is this new? i don't know if i've seen this before -> username: personally i love it

charles_leclerc: where's my ice cream? -> y/nhamilton: you have to be at the williams garage if you want some. george is here too -> georgerussel63: you're supposed to keep it a secret -> username: AHAHAHA- y/n just outing george -> username: i'm gonna miss them next year 😢 -> y/nhamilton: mate, my dad's switching teams. he's not retiring. besides, georgie can't get rid of me if he tried -> georgerussel63: and i HAVE tried -> username: don't even george. we all know you love her liked by y/nhamilton & georgerussel63

mercedesamgf1: our paddock princess out there doing paddock princess things -> scuderiaferrari: enjoy your last season with her! -> mercedesamgf1: 🤕 -> username: poor merc admin just catching strays

maxverstappen1: am i not going to get any credit for pointing out that your hair made a heart? -> y/nhamilton: will you give my dad the 2021 wdc trophy? -> y/nhamilton: for legal reasons, my above comment is a joke. max is aware of this sentiment and the two of us have an ongoing thing where we bring it up at any minor inconvenience. -> y/nhamilton: besides it's his name on the trophy he doesn't care no more -> username: LMAOO y/n got possessed by mercedes pr for a minute liked by y/nhamilton & maxverstappen1

lewishamilton: is this the first time i haven't made the gp dump? i'm offended -> lewishamilton: this is what they mean when they say kids grow up so fast -> roscoelovescoco: i didn't makes the cuts eithers? wow... -> username: lewis commenting from his AND roscoe's account 😭 that man's actually hurt by this -> y/nhamilton: the last slide is literally your feature -> y/nhamilton: roscoe i'm sorry. i've failed you

carlossainz55: 🏎️🏎️ -> y/nhamilton: 🚗🚗 -> username: oh thank god they're still communicating in weird emojis -> username: frr, i was so scared they weren't going to be friends anymore -> username: if y/n and max made it out alive after ad21, i think her and carlos can survive this

alex_albon: that was probably the best ice cream i've had in my life -> y/nhamilton: it's sweeter bcz i'm around

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TAGLIST: @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @somepeoplemaybe , @nothaqks , @theforevermorereject , @thatonesblog <3

send a message/comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

NOTE: second part out! if you guys want to see something that already happened in prev seasons, send in an ask/comment! don't forget to like + reblog &lt;3

[writingstoraes]

secret trip 🛫

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this seemed like a really cute idea so! lmk what u guys think 🤍 requests for charles imagines are open btw! pls send some cause my own ideas r betraying me rn lolol

about: the entire grid seems to be going to italy together, fans can't seem to put the pieces together!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, ferrarifan, wagsf1, and 234,110 others

yourusername with love, italy

isahernaez Have fun, babes ❤️

yourusername wish you were here 😣

wagslove SOOO GORGEOUS

charles_leclerc My beautiful angel

yourusername love you, handsome :D

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen, and 1,334,982 others

charles_leclerc Loving the view a little too much, loving my muse the most.

f1films Charles and Y/N vacationing in Italy is something I never knew I needed

mercgirl I think they're with some of the drivers, check their stories

pierregasly Have the best time 😝

arthurleclerc No picture of me?

charles_leclerc Leave the hotel for once?

carlossainz55 and pierregasly recently added to their instagram stories!

danielricciardo and landonorris recently added to their instagram stories!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, pascale_leclerc, and 345,892 others

yourusername good food, good times, and the best people ❤️

pierregasly Someone pass the salt

carlossainz55 Why did you feel the need to ask that here pierregasly Why do you wanna know? 🙄

charles_leclerc No one told me Max gets wine drunk...

yourusername i say whoever ordered the wine takes care of him danielricciardo That champagne saving me right now 🤣

ferrarihorse I didn't know all of you were all so close omg this is adorable

charlesfearless italy with my loml and friends... now i want that

yourusername and charles_leclerc recently added to their instagram stories!

Trans: Nothing I'd love more than spending a lifetime with you.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, isahernaez, and 501,221 others

yourusername the answer to the million dollar question — why everyone seems to have flown to italy, well it's because today, i married the love of my life who also happens to be my best friend and my answered prayer.

i have had the best time conquering the world with you, my love. from the big romantic moments to the small mundane things, you make life more pleasurable. here's to forever 🥂

tagged: charles_leclerc

charlosfan aaaa an intimate wedding! truly one of the best option, congratulations to my favorite couple <3

yourusername thank you love! it really was nice being surrounded by close friends and family ❤️

scuderiaferrari Best wishes, Y/N and Charles! We still remember your first paddock appearance as a couple; time truly has flown!

charlieferrari I KNEW ITTTT MY FRIEND OWES ME 50 DOLLARS LOL

yourusername hahaha thank you for the faith then 🙏

lewishamilton Congratulations once again, you two! What an honor to be there as you celebrate a new milestone in your life together 🎉

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, lewishamilton, and 1,982,221 others

charles_leclerc Exactly five years ago, I could not resist asking for your first name just so I could see you again. Today, you took mine.

J'ai hâte de passer ma vie à t'aimer. I cannot wait to spend my life loving you.

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly Haha you weren't best man carlossainz55

carlossainz55 You weren't either?

maxverstappen Time to bring out the wine 🍷

charles_leclerc No landonorris No danielricciardo With love, no

carlossainz55 Overflowing best wishes, mate! You owe me for actually sending Y/N the text of you wanting to ask her out 😁

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tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12

notes: believe it or not this prompt has been gathering dust on my notes lol lmk what u guys think! also lmk if anyone wants to be a part of my permanent taglist :)

[auroralwriting]

gorgeous

bella ramsey x fem!reader

synopsis: your co-stars just can’t keep their mouths shut about your celebrity crush

guys i fr don’t know if i am back but i love bella so here is this for you all much love <3

“okay, guys, let’s answer some questions!” your co-star, rocky, called from the couch where his phone was propped up on the cushion.

something you and your costars loved to do was go live on instagram. it was a good way to promo your movie and interact with fans. plus it was really fun to goof around with your friends.

cole pushed himself up from the floor and walked over to where you were on the chair, just in frame. he sat on the arm and slung his body over yours. “let’s see, got any good ones?”

“favorite scene to shoot?” rocky asked, squinting his eyes to see.

“guys we can’t spoil the movie!” you laughed along with the others. “but let me just say, any scene with these two is the best.”

cole leaned forward to see. “celeb crush?”

“mines zendaya. tom’s a lucky, lucky man.” rocky shook his head in sadness, all whilest smiling.

“i don’t have one,” you responded as cole and rocky looked shocked.

“uhm, yes you do!” cole yelled.

rocky immediately snitched. “she loooves the last of us, especially when ellie-”

“okay!” you yelled over top of them, “but we all know cole loves emma stone! maybe a little too much.”

“hey!” cole responded, “gwen stacy was my first ever crush! i love emma stone!”

the topic moved forward from there, but little did you know the fans did not.

it didn’t take long for ship edits, tags, and more to be spread across all of social media. as soon as the love ended, it was all you could see. you just hoped that bella wouldn’t see.

-

the night of the infamous golden globes finally arrived. you did your best to work with your stylist on your look. both co-stats thought you looked drop dead amazing, so things were going pretty well.

the press was the fun part. doing interviews was so much fun. sometimes there were challenges or games.

“so, miss l/n, anything you can say about the movie?” your interviewer asked.

“sadly nothing i can say would be acceptable. there’s so many spoilers! this movie has so many twists it’s hard to keep up.” you smiled with a giggle.

your interviewer laughed. “so, on a more personal note, let’s talk love.”

“well, there’s no love here. i’m completely and utterly single, as sad as that is,” you made a tear drop fall down your face with your finger.

“well i hear a special someone is here tonight, bella ramsey would sure be a nice fit for you!”

of course this would happen.

“psh, bella would not be interested in me.”

“are you sure? didn’t you see their tiktok comment?”

tiktok comment? what comment? as far as you knew, you’d checked every edit bella was tagged in, but of course that wasn’t possible. there were hundreds.

the interviewer passed you a phone with the comment up.

@/bellaramsey: 😍

the edit wasn’t even of your comment, just a normal, plain old edit of you.

“it seems bella maybe takes more notice to you than you assume.” the interviewer said.

the interview ended and as soon as you found rocky and cole, you told them what happened. they also looked shocked but encouraged you to follow it through.

and of course bella would be here tonight. why wouldn’t they? the last of us was nominated..

right as you were walking in, you could hear people telling bella’s name on the carpet. as much as you wanted to look, you were being told to go sit to make room for the other celebs coming off the carpet.

you didn’t see them at the after party. you were chatting with some friends, sadie and olivia, when you saw sadie’s eyes drift behind you.

you turned around and saw bella approaching, and god, did he look amazing. their hair was in a bun, glasses, a maroon suit to go with it all. maroon was a good color for him.

“hey, y/n, it’s nice to meet you!” bella smiled, hand out. you didn’t even notice sadie and olivia walk away.

“bella, hi! yeah, it’s lovely to meet you too,”

shaking hands made you more nervous than anything ever. touching their skin was a whole new level.

“i’m sorry the last of us didn’t win tonight. it really deserved to.” you empathized, truly wishing bella had won.

“it’s alright, we’ll have many more chances i’m sure. you look stunning, may i add. literally, gorgeous.”

your face flushed at bella’s words. “oh! thank you, you look very gorgeous as well.”

“i saw your instagram live,” bella blurted out. you immediately put your face in your hands and groaned. bella was quick to grab them and remove them. “hey, no! it’s alright, no need to ruin your pretty makeup.” again, you blushed. “i just wanted to say, again, i think you’re gorgeous. incredibly, and you’re so talented and funny.”

you smiled brightly, not moving your hands from bella’s. “thank you. uh, sorry if this is forward-”

“i was thinking movies?” bella asked. “sorry, i just thought it would be more comfortable than a dinner with the paps. maybe at someone’s place, with pizza and popcorn?”

“yes, i’d love that!” you felt your insides rush with glee.

bella smiled wide, “awesome, great.”

you two stood in a brief silence, not wanting to leave each others company. “would you like to meet pedro?”

“would i?!”

[starberry-cupcake]

Alrighty, here we are again

previously, in harrowcita the ninth:

this happened

currently, after ch. 2 (once again, I wanted to read more but realized these notes were too long):

first off, I need to point out something very important

reading the first part of gideon, this was how the dynamic of her and harrow felt like, from gideon's pv in the first chapter or two

this is what it actually was like, now that I have harrow's pv

so, now that we've cleared that up, let me tell you about the emperor

I don't know about this guy

something's not adding up for me

I feel like he's either lying, telling half-truths that benefit him or he doesn't know what he's doing

and none of those options are very god-tier

he's also constantly going like "harrow, I'm gonna let you choose" and five minutes later he's "oh, actually, you never had a choice to begin with, I'm so sorry about that"

I don't think you're sorry if you've done it like 3 times since we've met you

maybe say what you actually mean, unless you're full of lies

he takes harrow on a walk through the clown death star ship he's got going on

and takes her to his coffin hangar

shows her coffins of the people he made to send to the ninth

the new ninth people

aiglamene is gonna have to work overtime

(I can't believe I've never forgotten her name)

and then there's coffins for all the little friends we made in canaan house

:) ♥

except there are a bunch missing people

let me just note the info we got

the second says "no human remains inside"

last we saw them, martita was KO and judith was bleeding to death

nobody from the third as well, and we already have suspicions about wtf is happening with these parsley and cilantro twins

from the sixth, one is empty because CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD GODDAMMIT

the other one has little pieces of palmolive in it

me picking up the pieces of palmolive from the decor of canaan house

there is one coffin for not!dulcinea

the emperor guy says he's taking her with the other lyctors

as long as he flushes afterwards, it's fine

we are, by the way, trying very hard to not mention gideon ever, apparently

just wanna point out real quick that THERE'S A LOT OF PEOPLE UNACCOUNTED FOR and this guy is GOD so he's doing a terrible job

or he's not saying all he knows

or both

all this time, ice cube barbie is tagging along

ice cube barbie is harrow's babadook, which I stan tbh

since she's here to stay, let me show you another pic of that doll because it's my favorite from the haunted beauty collection

so, the emperor starts telling harrow what they're fighting against (or escaping from) and where they came from

this man explains what he wants and leaves out what he wants

at one point, when harrow asks something like "how will you explain all the dead people?" he goes like

he asks harrow about death and the process of it and she says, at one point:

"In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated. Whence we gain the ghost, and the revenant."

this is important for the later conversation about revenant beasts, which are the things that the emperor is having trouble with

but I highlighted it because I am adding it to my notes of "reasons why gideon could be not dead forever"

I am holding on to all the hope I can get

because if sudden violent death can leave the soul temporarily isolated and not do the due process of transitioning to the river or whatnot

and gideon isn't within harrow or whatever

maybe

maybe she's somewhere else

I don't know, let me have this, don't tell me anything, just

LET ME HAVE THIS

so yeah, basically the story is that the emperor is running away from nine revenant beasts, which were created during the resurrection, when a planet was blasted off

nine beasts like nine houses

there's three left now

I don't know about all of this, you guys

I don't have enough context and I don't trust this guy here

how do I know where we stand in all this?

what if he's not the good guy and what he did was some planetary bullshit to begin with?

what if the other side is the good guys?

what if he's killed by one of our heroes? like harrow or gideon or camilla?

because he's actually a false god jerk?

what if I kill him????

and then we have two last important things

first, barbie ice cube speaks now

love that for her

then, very crucial

the non-gideon mentioning seems to be a Thing

I don't know if I'm understanding correctly but

the emperor mentions ortus

ortus, the one we knew, our old pal from the ninth

and I got the feeling, idk if I got it, that he just assumed ortus was the cavalier she had with her

because 1) he didn't go down there and 2) no body was recovered

and then harrow also mentions ortus, but she says he "died thinking it was the only gift he was capable of giving" and that she "wasted it" and idk if she did that because she's blocking sad memories, she's confused because she's Not Doing Great Mentally Right Now, she doesn't wanna tell the emperor what actually happened, or all three

there's stuff about ortus I don't know, but that sounds to me more like what gideon said than what ortus "Got Blown To Bits With Mom In Ship" did

and then the emperor says his name again with suspicion and I'm like

I think this clown doesn't know

I think he doesn't know about gideon

I think he doesn't know about gideon or who gideon actually is

which we don't know yet either but it's probably important

because she's hercules, as previously established

I think maybe gideon is an outlier

an important planetary outlier

I have hopes

also, another day without camilla

god (not this one) I hope I can make shorter recaps but there's so much happening, I'm so sorry

[thanatoss-favorite-demigod]

CAMERON FLUX VS THE GODS

Full Name: Cameron Flux

Nickname(s): Cam

Pronouns: they/he/she

Gender Identity: trans masc + gender fluid

Sexuality: Bisexual

Mortal Parent: Unknown, missing

Godly Parent: Apollo

Direct Family: One sister, Rhedyn “Rhey” Flux, Daughter of Apollo, Hunter of Artemis. Not that nice to Cam. All the rest of Cam’s family has died.

Tag: #cam’s talking

Powers:

FROM HIS FATHER, APOLLO

Light bending: The ability to control or bend light.

Sun manipulation: Heat & light from the Sun, tends to transfer into metal when enraged, angry, or simply just having a lot of emotions.

Glowing: You get the idea. He glows.

Music manipulation: can make music sound beautiful, understands instruments, and can even make people hear music even if it’s not really there—tends to drive people insane or schizophrenic.

Art: He’s just really good at making art and stuff.

Healing: Can heal people easily, works best with singing (in which he has a great voice).

Plague: Can give people plague and diseases that are incurable or deadly, mainly does this to enemies or those how wrong him.

HEBE YOUTH CURSE

Lasted: 1745–2024

How it happened: Hebe cursed Cam around the age of 3-4, right after his mother went missing.

What it did: Made Cam age 1 year for every 20 years

Broken: 3 years after Cam turned biologically 14

THANATOS IMMORTALITY CURSE

Lasted: 1744–Present day

How it happened: Thanatos came to Cam’s aid when his mother went missing

What it does: Makes Cam immortal, instantly heals him from a green crystal necklace that can’t break nor come off of Cam. If it does he dies.

Unbroken

ARES PATRON

Ares saw Cam’s pure rage, and decided to become his patron. Now, Cam is extremely successful in war and combat.

+ BONUS

Feral. He raised himself on the streets for years, what did you expect?

Speaks a bit of French & Spanish, better in English.

Hispanic descent, 2nd generation.

KEY

[if i talk like this, it’s a recorder/writing-in-my-sketchbook-journal-thing/side-note. they’re just for fun.]

(like this is an action! or whatever they’re called.)

Everyone!

@will-solace-aaaaa half-brother. treats me like an incompetent little sister.

@nico-di-angelo-aaaaa pretty cool. not much to say, other than he’s a son of Hades.

@leo-valdez-graaa Leo. annoying as shit but whatever, he’s super smart

@annabeth-in-your-chase Annabeth! showed me camp when I got here [i’m totally not crushing on her.]

@jason-graceeeeee buff guy. dating Leo. son of Jupiter, i think.

@frank-zhang-skreee i’ve never met him, but what Leo describes him as he seems nice! dating Hazel, last i checked.

@hazel-is-confused Hazel! super nice. daughter of Pluto. [i’m definitely not crushing on her either.]

@piper-mclean-raaa prettiest. woman. alive. 10/10, love her sm she’s like the best older sister ever

@apollos-favorite-child kayla ! super nice, super fun. sometimes makes fun of me [affectionately]

@superbstarlightsheep we get wendy’s together. basically my best friend 🫶

@moththecabin7kid moth ‼️

@yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades SEL‼️‼️‼️❤️

@travis-stollllllllll trav 🤛

@that-dam-daughter-of-poseidon lucy 💙

@genesis-ends-it-all geni the squirtle lover

@bill-son-of-boreas really cute i want to violently kiss him on the mouth haha what who said that

more, coming soon! [when people interact with me and when i remember everyone else]

[azullumi]

kamisato ayato — modern relationship hcs ☆彡

summary — kamisato ayato, the school's student body president and your boyfriend.

pairing — kamisato ayato /gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern au ; headcanons

word count — 700+

note — this was supposed to be 3 characters in one but yeah. i'll focus on requests once i get some time ^^

"Hello, sweetheart, when are your classes going to end?"

Not surprisingly, he is in a position of power—once the people learned that he's going to run as president, nobody competed against him and he won by default. He is quite famous in both students and teachers due to his charismatic personality and charming face, as well as the intelligence he holds.

How did you even bag this man? That is the question you ask yourself every time you see him because, Archons, he's so perfect and amazing. But, him, hearing and knowing your thoughts, he makes sure that you don't feel small or insecure and lets you know that you're perfect and wonderful in your own kind of way. He's the one even wondering how he ended up with such an amazing person like you.

"Is (Name) here? Oh hey, there you are. You forgot something in my house so I came to give this to you."

He doesn’t tell you but he likes to show off even when it's just through subtle actions like walking you to your class during the morning or taking you out during lunch so you could eat with him. Definitely likes to wear the gifts that you give him and if someone asks him about it, he'll immediately say it's from his lovely s/o which is you.

He occasionally asks you to come over to his home, reasoning that his sister misses you already even if he's the one who actually does. What will you do there? You could just watch, play games, or anything with him, depending on either of you two's moods. Sometimes, you'll just spend some time cuddling and gossiping about the students in the school.

He would also schedule a study date in a nearby library or just in his home but the thing is, the two of you won't spend your whole time studying—occasionally being distracted by the things around you and flowing through a different plan than the one intended, you'll end up doing something else that is not in any of your plans.

"Did you know a student beat up their friend after they lost the student's favorite pen?"

"What? Is that the one that happened in the cafeteria?"

And not surprisingly, instead of falling asleep in each other's arms, the two of you are just chatting in bed while holding one another, telling stories and everything that you know to him.

The two of you wouldn't even notice the time and how you spent hours chatting and gossiping but it's fine because you got the juiciest and delicious tea of all and it's exclusively just for you.

"Did you know that this girl, a student from another school, was being cheated on by her boyfriend?"

"You know that's common, right?"

"Not when the guy was cheating on a dating app and it turns out that the girl the guy was cheating with was still actually her girlfriend who was using a fake identity."

"What?!"

Despite his busy schedule, he always manages to make some time for you. He takes you out on dates, helps you with your schoolworks, and anything. Loving, affectionate, and sweet, he dotes on you and makes sure that he is able to convey his feelings of affection to you.

He'll make sure to always accompany you home so that he is assured that you returned to your house safe and even has your schedule memorized so he knows what classes you are going to take for that day (since the two of you are in separate sections)—honestly, he just loves reminding you over text that you're going to have next the subject you most hate with your whole blood and entire family tree and seeing you be filled with dread and despair as soon as you'll learn about it has him chuckling.

If ever he'll be unable to accompany you though due to duties and tasks holding him back, he'll tell you as soon as possible while apologizing, however, you have a choice to stay and wait for him to finish, lending him a hand on the area he needs help on. He'll be happy if you decide to do so but would feel guilty as he might be bothering you or anything and he'll just have Thoma or Ayaka accompany you—you'll have to reassure him and tell him it's fine.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, let's go home already, hm?"

One thing that he loves to do while you two are walking together is holding hands or linking arms, he likes the feeling of his fingers laced with yours or how you would cling to his arm and be close to him. 

You two would also occasionally eat at a cafe or drink in a boba shop if you have some time left and it's still not dark while going home, often visiting newly-opened ones. Oh, but if you don't have money? Not a problem really since he'll be glad to use his wallet for you. He loves spoiling and treating you to anything even when you won't ask him to do so.

In the students and staff's books, he is the definition of perfect.

— navigation | masterlist

[minkkumaz]

START YOUR ENGINES

after getting over a bad breakup, you thought going to a racing experience would be different. it was bound to get your mind off of things, right? however two boys in particular couldn't keep their eyes off of you; causing a chain of events that were sure to light fire in your stomach.

RACE TO YOUR HEART series

PAIRING kim woonhak x fem! reader x myung jaehyun WC 4.5k TAGS adults dni. racecar driver au. no poly relationship. mentions of toxic relationship. friendly arguing. mention of fire. jae is a fucking flirt. they both kinda are idk. kys jokes. TAGLIST @skullverse OMI NOTE to begin with, i may or may not be utterly obsessed with this series. i tried to make it as accurate as possible since i know close to nothing about cars in general, let alone racecars (can you tell i can't drive yet.) but i did my best.

adrenaline ran through every vein, every trigger in their bodies. fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as they waited for that sweet start. and when the green flag initiated release, impatient feet slammed on the gas.

engines revving couldn’t mask the sound of each racers ego shooting out of their exhaust pipes. flashes of shiny colors sped by down the hot pavement, a crowd of people screaming the names of their respective favorites. pretty girls in uniform leaned over the the railing, checkered flags in their hands.

but that wasn’t the reason woonhak and jaehyun glanced back and forth from the road in front of them and their rear view mirror. something caught their eye, something much more sincere than any flag girl.

despite the large crowd, you stood out to them. and not because you were cheering louder than everyone, not because you were making a scene, but because you looked bored. that was far from the actual truth, but how could they let a cute girl leave unphased?

the expression on your face remained blank, completely opposite of your excited friend next to you. breakups were hard, and you were unsure if going to a racecar driving event would mend your broken heart. but you listened to her pleas to get you out of the house, knowing she only meant well.

everything was so distracting, but maybe that was a good thing after all. the last thing you wanted was to turn back to the boy you used to love the most, knowing all too well that he destroyed you. it had been months, so putting on a front was easiest part.

the race continued like normal, every man for themselves fighting to be the one that crosses the squared black and white line. both of the boys sped up impressively, shooting down the road to pass on their competitors, yet still neck and neck with one another. titanium skid blocks underneath the cars produced fiery sparks that trailed down the concrete.

tension emit from every corner of the stadium, fans on the edge of their seat. popcorn kernels were discarded on the floor and beer cans were crushed under seats, that being the integrity of events like these. people around you practically squatting, awaiting the cue to erupt into screams.

energy was at an all time high on the track, lap after lap inching closer to victory. racecars zero - six and zero - three were almost going at the same fast pace, leaving any other participant back in the dust. the final lap came around, the names woonhak and jaehyun ringing through the loud speakers.

it was about to happen, the audience holding back even a single blink to perfectly grasp who would touch the finish line first. seconds felt like they were increasingly slowing down, yet before you could count down any longer, a car drove by and the checkered flag was waved down. silence 

“put your hands together for your new first place medal holder, kim woonhak!” 

cheers erupted from the stands, your friend jumping up and down with joy and taking you with her. the boy who’s supposedly named woonhak took his helmet off and waved to the audience, putting hand hearts to the side of his face in a cutesy manner. another boy followed closely behind him and gave him a pat on the back.

people filed out almost immediately, in hopes to catch a glimpse at some of the racers. autographs were being signed in a safe spot away from the track. grabbing your hand, your friend took you down the stairs in an attempt to meet her idol, and the newest winner, woonhak.

you followed along with a sigh, letting her get excited so she wouldn’t worry for you any more. when you got towards the bottom, the catch fence towered above you with great height which caught you by surprise. the line got extremely long, giving you a sense of false hope for a supposed autograph.

“hey, i’m going to go to the bathroom okay? when you’re done i’ll be at the car if that’s okay.” you tell the jittery girl.

“awh alright, y/nnie. i’m sorry if you didn’t have any fun. hopefully this will be quick!” she smiled, waving you off as you left towards the bathroom.

in complete honesty, you didn’t have to use the bathroom at all. you just needed an excuse to get away from the chaos. there was a small closed off area that was open for anyone to stay by, yet it was completely empty. leaning against the wall, you let yourself slide down and plop on the floor.

considering the circumstance, it would take forever for her to get an autograph and a picture, so you busied yourself on your phone for a little while.

however, you failed to realize the cheerful second place winner from the track spotted you trotting away from the crowd, making him grow curiouser and curiouser. he snuck around a few large walls before he wasn’t too far from you, the sound of his helmet clanking against his suit was drowned out by whatever you were occupying yourself with.

“hi, are you lost?” the voice said, poking his head around the corner to look down at you sitting on the floor.

“oh– i’m sorry! am i not supposed to be here?” you jolt at his sudden presence.

“no, you’re totally allowed to be here. i was just curious is all.” he smiled, “i’m myung jaehyun, i don’t know if you remember me from the race but i kind of got second place. no rhyme intended.”

“right, i’m y/n! it’s nice to meet you, where are my manners? i do recognize you.” you try to stand up and shake his hand, but he’s already sitting himself down in front of you.

“don’t worry about it, it’s nice to meet you too! did you enjoy the race?” jaehyun quirked an eyebrow, curious of your reaction. 

“yes! it was great, especially when you guys.. raced?” you respond, though it almost seemed like you were asking a question.

“you don’t have to lie, it’s chill. i kind of saw you in the stands and you looked distracted?” he wondered.

“was it really that obvious? gosh i hope i didn’t throw you off your game by seeming uninterested.” you frown, “a lot has been on my mind recently and my friend offered to take me out of the house. she’s a huge fan of racecar driving, and kim woonhak.. but i’m not sure which one she likes more to be honest.”

“you’re funny, woonhak has that effect on people. but i swear i’m his biggest fan. hopefully you can come to a race whenever your head clears up?” he laughs casually like he’s known you his entire life.

“maybe i will. it did seem pretty tense right before they announced the winner. i was kind of curious myself.”

“then hopefully next time i’ll win, maybe give you a show worth watching.” he grinned at you, making a tint wash over your cheeks.

“right! do you know when you’re holding your next one?” you ask.

“our next one.. i believe at the end of the month? woonhak and i will be driving still, as well as the third place winner, but the rest will be all new drivers from around the world!” he answers you.

“i’ll see, thats not too long from now–” your words were interrupted by a cheerfully excited voice.

“jaehyun! where are you?!” he searched around, finally landing his gaze on you before his face contorted into a scowl, “jae, what are you doing?”

“woonhak, this is y/n. and y/n, you already know him. i invited her to our next race at the end of the month.” jaehyun told him.

“so she can see you lose again?” woonhak teased playfully.

“hey! you got youngest luck, all of your fangirls were screaming your name from the rooftops. the myungz fandom is lacking!” jaehyun defended.

“it’s not luck if it’s twice in a row you lame - o. y/n, you saw me shooting down there, right?” woonhak looked over at you for answers.

“not exactly..? i wasn’t paying the most attention and i’m so sorry.” you mumble in embarrassment.

“it’s no problem, that just means you have to come to the next one!” jaehyun smirks, patting your knee lightly.

“like i said, i don’t know right now, but i’ll definitely consider it!” you brush off lightly, glancing over at your phone.

four new messages and two missed calls, all from your friend. getting caught in between these two boys made you completely forget. there wasn’t going to be an autographing line if the main racer wasn’t there, how could you not notice?

concern washes over your face, making them stop their bickering to look at you. sending her a quick text, you let her know you’ll be back at the car in second.

“i’m really sorry guys but i completely lost track of time. i have to get back to my friend.” woonhak holds out a hand for you to help yourself up, which you accept.

“that’s too bad, i wanted to get to know you a little better. you seem really cool.” jaehyun compliments you out of the blue.

“yeah, me too.” woonhak adds on, his hand still holding onto yours lightly.

“oh, wait! me and woon are going to free run the tracks tomorrow, you should totally stop by tomorrow and hang out!” jaehyun realizes, excitement washing over him like an energetic puppy.

“that’s a good idea, why didn’t i think of that? we won’t be out for very long, and we can show you our cars up close.” puppy number two says, giving jae a high five and a pat on the back.

“i mean, i’m not busy tomorrow?” you tell them, failing to think of a proper excuse.

“then that means..” they both say in unison.

“fuck it, what time do you want me to be here?”

twenty four hours ago, if you had told yourself you would be secretly coming back to a race track with no authorized permission to do so for two golden retriever boys, you wouldn’t believe yourself. whatever convinced you to go through with this must have brainwashed you until you didn’t even know your own name.

though you knew exactly what got through your head, because their pleading eyes never left your mind. your friend would be extremely confused if she found out you were sneaking around with her favorite racers after supposedly ‘not enjoying’ the event yesterday. 

but there you were, walking down by the wall closest to the track in search of familiar faces. it felt weird being in an empty place that’s usually lively and awfully loud. abandoned merchandise scattered along the floor where warm bodies used to stay. chills ran down your spine at this thought.

faint music played in the distance, alerting you that maybe they were closer than you thought they would be. you walked towards the noise to find out, seeing the two of them fixing up their cars. what they were doing exactly? you had no clue, cars were never really your thing, let alone race cars.

“um, hello!” you spoke up, catching their attention.

“y/n, hey!” jaehyun approached  you, catching you in a sudden hug.

“we’re happy that you could make it!” woonhak beamed brightly.

“of course, didn’t wanna go back on my word or anything.” you vowed.

“jae and i were just going to do a few laps, then we were thinking we could order lunch? we’ll give you the best spot to view, and we won’t take long!” woonhak hovered a hand on your shoulder, placing it down gently when you didn’t pull away.

“there’s a section that’s usually super empty, but we personally think it’s the greatest. everyone is missing out.” jaehyun shrugs, putting his arms through the sleeves of his uniform.

“oh, sure! thank you guys for showing me this, i’m very honored.” you nod politely.

“we’re not crazy celebrities yet, so don’t worry about being so formal with us.” woonhak reassured, holding his hand out, “let me take you over there right now!”

you blush slightly as woonhak leads you away, not processing the look of envy behind jaehyun’s eyes. the walk wasn’t very far, but the grip woonhak had on your hand was inescapable. he gave you fond glances every now and then that sent sparks to your heart. you tried your best to push this down.

they were right by giving this specific seating arrangement good rep, as it had an amazing view of the track. taking a seat on one of the benches that woonhak pointed to, he let out a breathy exhale.

“this is it, isn’t it pretty awesome?” he looks out into the distance, admiring the dark asphalt almost glittering in the sun.

“you guys were right, the view is really good. thank you.” you gave your thanks.

“seriously, y/n. it’s no problem! we’re glad to have you here to watch us.” he sits himself down next to you.

“i’m not used to this, is all. i was kind of taken aback when you guys invited me, i guess? aren’t i just some stranger?” you asked the boy curiously.

“stranger, sure. but jae and i think you’re too cute to look so bored.”

“huh?!”

“ah– i’m sorry that was kind of out of pocket!” he laughed nervously, “what i mean is that we’re pretty used to the energy from the crowd, and we didn’t want to leave a single person not excited. he told me you had a lot on your mind apparently, and thought it was a good idea for you to come hang out with us.”

“that’s actually.. very sweet. i’m not sure what to say.” you admit sheepishly.

“you don’t have to say anything, just enjoy yourself!” he stands up from his seat, “we’ll talk more when we get food, i’m gonna go grab my car and you can watch us do some laps.”

“okay, that sounds good!” 

woonhak left you by yourself, picking up a slight jog back to jae. the situation at hand was so random that it made you forget about everything for a moment. hopefully, you’d be able to put everything aside for now and try your best to move on. what they were doing was kind, and disappointing them feared you.

the sun's golden rays painted the pavement in warm hues, you felt a unique blend of curiosity and anticipation. before you, the track stretched out like a ribbon, a playground for speed and skill. your attention is suddenly drawn to two figures pulling up to the start with their cars.

they give you a wave, before the revving of their engines is all you could hear. with a burst of acceleration, they're off, racing side by side into the first turn. you follow their every move, eyes tracking the graceful dance of their cars as they navigate each curve and straightaway. it was a mesmerizing display of skill, the cars almost an extension of their bodies as they maneuver down the road. 

you began to grow glad that they invited you out, feeling much more positive emotion towards the sport than you did yesterday. yet as you focus more on their prowess on the track, you began to realize something else. every time they made contact with you, their desperateness to get you to hang out with them, a compliment slipping from woonhak’s lips not too long ago. were they flirting with you, and you’d been to dense to properly notice?

their couple laps continued as normal, but you find yourself between the exhilaration of their mini race and the growing awareness that maybe they didn’t intend to be exactly friends. unsure of what to think, you continued watching the race in an attempt to ignore the stutter of your heart beat.

once the two boys were finished, they immediately came back to you to see your opinions. beads of sweat dripped down their forehead as they approached you.

“how was it?” woonhak said, excited to hear your input.

“it was cool! i don’t know much about cars but it definitely kept me on my toes.” you reply honestly, watching the both of them smile brightly.

“that’s good you were more interested this time around! next time i’ll have to take you around with me.” jaehyun winks at you.

“sounds fun!” you try your best to ignore his very obvious and dramatic wink.

“we ordered pizza on the way back to you, it should be almost here.” woonhak interrupted, giving jae a light shove, “let’s go back?”

you nod, feeling the bubble of hunger forming in your stomach. the three of you walked back to where you originally started when you got to the track. it was almost like a garage, with various tools scattered everywhere and some bean - bags in the corner. 

arriving back, you settle yourself down on one of the seats while woonhak leaves to get the food from the delivery guy.

“hey, are you okay?” jaehyun asks randomly. 

“i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be?” you perk up your head.

“i was just wondering since you said you had a lot on your mind yesterday. i hope you weren’t forcing yourself to come here today.” his words sounded sincere.

“don’t worry about that, i’ve been trying to distract myself anyways so this was a good excuse.” you explain, “i don’t want to get into any specific details, but i went through a breakup about a month or two ago? it was kind of rough but i’m starting to get over it.”

“oh, shit. i’m sorry y/n.” he mumbles awkwardly.

“hey, if anything you’re doing me a favor. i know we don’t know each other very well, but i’m glad to have someone else to talk to.” 

“glad that i can be here, woon and i will keep you company! we kind of talk a lot? so you’ll know us like the back of your hand asap.” 

“you’re too sweet, i’m shocked you guys don’t have girlfriends yet.” you realize.

“girlfriends– oh, yeah! i do kind of have my eye on someone right now, but i don’t know if she’ll want to go out with me if i asked right now.” he mentioned, rubbing the back of his neck. you internally facepalmed, you should’ve known that he was just being nice.

“oh– if you like her, then you should just ask her. the worst thing she can do is say no.” you stammer, “but maybe my advice isn’t that good!”

“okay then, if you think that i should,” he didn’t argue, “y/n, would you like to hang out with me sometime? it doesn’t have to be a date or anything..”

“me..?” your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat or two, maybe three.

“is there another y/n in the room with us?” he jokes.

“this was probably the last thing i expected, you didn’t have to trick me like that!” you pout, making him smile.

“i just used your advice! but in all seriousness, you don’t have to say yes if you’re still hung over your breakup. you deserve someone good at the right time.”

“you know what? i’d love to go out with you sometime. it could be fun. i just don’t want you to think i’m trying to rebound or anything.”

“y/n, i could never think that of you. you seem very sincere, and i know you’re just trying to improve yourself.”

“that’s a relief then, was there anywhere in specific you were thinking?”

“here, put your number in my phone and i’ll text you when there’s something that pops up! i haven’t really planned that far ahead, but maybe we can do something the weekend before our big race?” he hands you his cell phone, open to the contacts page.

“then i’m in.” you smile at him, punching in your digits before handing it back to him.

“i hope you guys like pineapple on pizza!” woonhak announces, walking back into the room and placing the box in front of you two.

“dude? i don’t even like pineapple!” jaehyun whines.

“i know, that’s what makes it funny.” woonhak grins mischievously, falling back on one of the bean bags.

“bro?”

“i’m kidding, it’s half pineapple and half pepperoni.”

“i’ll eat anything, i’m just really hungry..” you mumble, placing a hand over your stomach.

jaehyun lifted the cardboard lid of the pizza box open, and each of you grabbed a slice to eat. in between rushed bites of the food you shared, you guys talked a lot. jae was right earlier when he said him and woonhak talked a lot, because you ended up learning a lot about them.

they were both still in school, but they did everything online since they were so busy with racing stuff. but besides racing, they enjoy singing and dancing a whole lot too. in all honesty, it caught you by surprise to hear the jump between their two completely different hobbies. they’re good friends with the other racers. as you heard the names sungho, riwoo, taesan, and leehan being juggled around a lot.

each of them were different in their own respective categories, but they were almost the same. both were extremely puppy - like, and had an immense amount of balled up energy. it was charming to you, and you found yourself laughing at everything they had to say. 

when you got the opportunity to talk about yourself, besides relating to the occasional comment they’d make, you were happy to give them a basic run down. explaining all of your little interests, whether you had a job or not, and that you were also still in school. talking to them became as easy as breathing.

night time came by quickly, as much as you were starting to feel like you didn’t want to leave. the pizza box was quickly discarded as you continued conversation with the two boys, but you knew they were starting to realize that you had to go too. the sunset spread orange and purple hues amongst the sky.

“i had a lot of fun hanging out with you guys, really. you don’t know how much i appreciate the invite!” you express your gratitude, slinging your bag around your body.

“we had fun too, you have to come hang out with us more before the race, yeah?” woonhak begged.

“i will!”

“you have my number, y/n. so you know who to call when you’re feeling bored.” jaehyun smirks, which made you remember of the date that you had planned.

“i’ll walk you out to your car since it’s getting dark soon.” woonhak recommended, as you only responded with a nod.

“bye, jaehyun, i’ll message you!” you wave goodbye, the youngest boy treading on your heels as you walked out.

“do you live close?” woonhak asked next to you as you lead him to your car, hands in his pockets.

“it’s just a fifteen minute drive, nothing crazy. what about you?” you return his question.

“i live just slightly closer, that’s sort of how i got into racecar driving. when i was younger me and jae have always passed by the track on our bikes.” he reminisced for a moment.

“you and jaehyun have known each other since you were kids?”

“pretty much, we’ve always been super close. and we live in the same neighborhood!” he exclaimed, happy to be talking about his closest friend.

“that’s super cute, i can tell you guys are stuck to each others hip. i can see some competition there though, but i’m assuming it’s all friendly?” you point out. 

“definitely, we have very similar motives so it’s bound to happen. but he’s like a big brother to me, even though he’s not that far off from me. don’t tell him i said that.” he mumbled, watching as you click the unlock button on your car keys.

“nothing wrong with a little friendly arguing.” you say, “thank you for walking me to my car, and again, for today.

“no problem, but actually i wanted to ask you something before you leave.” he leaned an arm on the top of your car, being tall enough to do so.

“what’s up?”

“would you maybe want to go out with me sometimes? date or not, you’re really pretty and um– i enjoyed talking to you a lot today!” he stammers, an unfamiliar timidness underlying his tone.

“woonhak i–” you were at a loss for words, “i’m so sorry but, jae asked me out earlier and i know you guys are friends so that would be really–”

“i know he did, he told me.”

“what?!”

“we both think you’re cool, y/n. that’s probably why you saw so much of us arguing? fighting i guess? but– we don’t want you to think you’re apart of a competition or anything! like of course it would be cool if me and you could go on a date but i wouldn’t be super pissed if you chose jaehyun or anything and–” he rambles.

“so let me get this straight, you and jaehyun want to go out with me,” you point at yourself, “but you actually like me and aren’t using me for a competition?”

“god it sounds so much worse when you say it like that.” he sighs, “i genuinely think you’re amazing, and if you would let me– i wouldn’t mind taking you out some time! i know you’ll be going with jaehyun too but there’s no hard feelings, trust me.”

“you two are.. very interesting. but honestly, i don’t see why not.” you gave in, watching the boys face light up.

“really?!”

“really. you seem genuine so i’ll take your word for it. granted that’s kind of what fucked me over last time but..”

“y/n i promise i won’t hurt you. we can always be friends, plus it doesn’t even have to be much of a date!” he covers up.

“i believe you, woonhak. i’ll see you around, okay?” you open your car door as he waves to you.

“bye, y/n!” he bids you goodbye eagerly, a large smile never failing to leave his face.

as soon as you shut yourself in the confines of your car, and the giddy boy is out of your vision, you let out the loudest groan imaginable. for once, you weren’t being completely delusional in the thought that both the boys took a liking to you. because now you sat, wallowing in your own self pity, with two dates lined up on your calender.

you were unsure if you were in a good mental position to go on dates, but the only thing that spending the day with woonhak and jaehyun taught you was that it would get better. it had been months, and you were realizing that maybe it was time to move on. you would never attempt to rebound with either of the boys, so on the bright side, you had the time up until these dates to grow.

this didn’t entail that you’d get in a relationship with one of them the second the date was over, but they would at least be in your consideration. with all of that, the big question still remained in your head. what exactly were you going to do?

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RACE TO YOUR HEART series

[shadowkoo]

Chasing Clouds - Prologue

→ Summary: Namjoon made the decision early on in his training that he would abstain from dating or entering any form of relationship while in active duty. He’s determined not to burden anyone with the likelihood of being to be notified of his death or causing pain to someone he loves by his long absence. Ironically, he found himself drawn to you, a doctor who challenges his beliefs and contradicts everything he upholds.

↠ knj x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: military au, angst (future chapters include: doctor au, s2l, slow burn, smut, fluff, romance

→ Warnings: Read at your own risk! war, ptsd, bombs, guns, violence, injury, death, blood, (future warnings include: murder, use of other weapons, smut warnings)

→ Author Note: my favorite kdrama of all time is descendants of the sun and in honor of my fifth rewatch, I wanted to write this series! it takes place about a year after the show ends, just so you know the timeline :) i would recommend that you watch it first, but it’s not a requirement - it just gives insight to some of the character's personalities (plus i’ll take any opportunity to tell people to watch it lol)

Prologue

MAY 02 - 0340 - USTANA

The darkness of the night feels heavy; its weight is unsettling as the soldiers start their most recent assignment. Namjoon has an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s twisting and turning like never before. He isn’t usually nervous before missions; he hasn’t had a reason to be. He's always followed through and completed his tasks without issue; which is one of the main reasons everyone has such high hopes for him.

Tonight is different though, and he knows the others have the same odd feeling as they all take off their dog tags and set them aside. If captured, they need to remain anonymous.

"You guys know the drill. Once we locate the hostage, everyone will need to be attentive because it'll only be a matter of time until the whole building knows it's been breached. This isn't another exercise boys, lives are at stake here,” Big Boss, Captain Yoo Shijin, says to his team of special force soldiers.

"As this is the last mission of your training term, I expect nothing but excellence in your delivery of the hostage. We've orchestrated the specifics of this mission in such a way that will prove whether or not you are cut for these types of diplomatic high-profile assignments," Wolf, Big Bosses best friend Seo Daeyoung, adds.

"Whatever you do, don't compromise the mission. Don’t use your birth name to communicate, use the nicknames you were given, as well as ours," Big Boss hollers, finishing off their short speech as the back door of the aircraft opened.

Ustana, the country they’re secretly entering, is known for its drug and weapons problem due to its corrupt government. If things end badly, it will reflect on Korea. That’s why the team’s identities and nationalities can’t be known.

The plane jolts, narrowly missing the projectile that was aimed at the steel bird in the sky, solidifying the seriousness of the current situation below.

Namjoon repeats his orders to keep some level of sanity and peace of mind as he descended from the sky with the rest of the Puppy Pack, the soldiers in training to join the Alpha Team.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

Once on the ground, he waits for the signal to ambush the guards watching the doors and proceeds to lead the group. Shijin and Daeyoung follow behind with the rest of the soldiers at their feet.

Daeyoung nods, giving Namjoon the go-ahead to align his gun on the enemy. This is the part he often tunes out. You need to be able to turn the switch, as he calls it, on and off with this kind of job.

He aligns his scope with the target and quickly pulls the trigger before moving to the others nearby before they even realize what’s happening. He watches as their bodies drop, waiting to see if anyone else runs into the room, but it’s quiet. Almost too quiet…

"Wildcat, All clear,” he says into his mic, letting the others know their access point is now safe for entry.

‘Find the hostage. Mislead the enemy. Return home. Stay alive.’

It takes less than two minutes for the group of highly trained soldiers to find the hostage. He’s badly beaten and unconscious, his body hunched over in the chair he’s tied to.

Wolf keeps watch by the side door while the team works on releasing the man. Jihoon, another one of the Puppy Pack trainees, helps Namjoon carry the man back to where the transport aircraft is waiting.

“I don’t want to jinx anything, but that was almost too easy…” Jihoon says, looking at Namjoon.

He agrees. Something’s not adding up…

He peers through the open door of the transport helicopter, gazing outside. They’re waiting for the last of the group to make their way onto the craft, and he just wants to ensure that everyone is safe. His shoulders relax when he can see their dark forms exiting the building.

Namjoon turns to look back at Jihoon, “I see them, they’re-” his sentence ends unfinished.

“What is that?” he says, taking a step closer to the unconscious hostage that Jihoon and a combat medic are helping. He points out the red blinking light on the man’s neck. It’s not a laser from a gun. It’s coming from inside his skin. ‘It’s almost as if…’ His thought trails off. “Run!” he screams, though it’s too late.

The bomb’s detonation rips through the helicopter, unleashing an intense burst of energy. In an instant, the searing shockwave propels fragments of debris outward. The air vibrates with a deafening roar, drowning out all other sounds.

The chaotic energy tears apart surroundings and scatters the remnants in all directions. A plume of smoke and fire billows upward, consuming everything in its path. The impact leaves a scene of devastation, marked by shattered glass, twisted metal, and a sense of raw destruction.

Namjoon feels the force of the explosion in his chest and is thrown far from his comrade, and debris crashes around him. His head bounces against the ground, and the ringing in his ears is so intense, he believes he will never hear again.

Jihoon is several feet away. His eyes are frozen open, and blood trails down his face from the head injury he suffers from. Namjoon reaches for his lifeless friend but it’s all too much.

Then, everything fades to black.

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©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (vaguely s8). Tags/Warnings: not-too-graphic smut, hunting-typical violence, witches using glamors, soft, loving, childhood friends-to-lovers, glass injuries. Word Count: 14,729 (hence why it took so damn long lol) Notes: howdyyyy. sorry for the brief absence, i was packing up some end-of-the-year things at home, finals, etc. this is for my dear friend and ultimate supporter @lacilou, who requested something that was so up my alley that i just HAD to write it. here ya goooo! Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

You had never seen Dean grovel before.

It started with some gentle offers, and then his pride caved, and he really started to dig in. If you played bait for the witch the three of you were currently hunting, Dean would, (in order), clean your weapons himself for a month, buy you dinner from your favorite place, and let you do at least one donut with Baby in the nearest empty lot. You planned to say yes either way, seeing as people were dying here—and it’s not like the three of you had any other options. But the longer you held out the more Dean added. You stewed on it, until even Sam offered up the passenger’s seat for two weeks. Once you’d amassed a good collection of favors the night before your hunt—

“Fine. I’ll do it,” you crossed your arms.

“God,” Dean cursed, and slumped forward against the table of your motel room in mock-exhaustion. “Only took you two fuckin’ days.”

Sam, who was leaning against the counter of your kitchenette, cooly twisted off the cap of his bottle and smirked around it. “You’re just mad cause’ she played you. Donuts in the Impala? Really?”

“I think that’s fair,” you spoke up, “What’s our witch’s name again?”

“Hermes,” Sam and Dean said, rolling their eyes in unison.

“Well—I’m the one who’s gonna have to be touched by this creep. That’s worth wheelies in the Impala, if you ask me,” you argued. On the motel bed in front of you, you were sorting through the suitcase that carried your entire life in it. There was supposed to be a nice night-out dress in here somewhere, but it’d probably been ruined by monster blood a millennia ago.

“Don’t even joke,” Dean warned, but he hesitated, like he’d been considering the Impala doing wheelies and mentally measuring how cool it’d be. 

“You know…” Sam trailed off, and in the corner of your eye you watched him straighten up. “If this really bothers you, you don’t have to do it. We’ve found other outlets before—this one just so happens to be the easiest one. A harder solution never scared us off before.”

“Exactly,” you snapped the lid of your suitcase shut. “So I can handle an easy one, like you said. I’m complaining for the fun of it, I promise. A witch killing and robbing people is nothing new, and neither are creeps—so I’m not exactly intimidated.”

Stepping away from the bed, you presented your dress to the two. It was almost a little too plain, but you got out so little lately that anything, even willfully being seduced by a witch in a sleazy bar, sounded fun. Little things like that reminded you that the hunt was an adventure as much as it was a job. A pretty shitty adventure, maybe, but after the apocalypse optimism had become a need as much as it was a balm. You were stuck in another lousy motel room in another city you’d never seen. Yet, sometime in the next week you’d be terrifying Dean out of his skin doing donuts in his car, and Sam had been happy lately. You hoped it was your influence.

His concern for you, as usual, boosted your optimism well into next week. You were more of a realist by nature. But if your positive outlook was waking him up and following him to bed every night, yet again, you and Sam Winchester had established another unspoken cycle. You watched his back and he watched yours. Sam talked to you about how he felt and you talked to him, both out of fear of burdening Dean. He gushed about the books he liked and the science articles he read, you fell in love with him every time, and together you relied so heavily on the other that you doubted Sam could breathe if your lungs weren’t working. You saved him and he saved you until you owed each other eternally. It’d been that way since the first time your parents had dropped you off at Bobby Singer’s, when you’d befriended the only other hunter-kids you’d ever met.

A few years back, the horseman Death had called your relationship uniquely symbiotic. To this day, you still wondered what he’d really meant. Feeling Sam’s warm eyes catch yours over his drink almost gave you your answer. But like always, your train of thought chased the soft line of his bicep against his shirt sleeve or the dimple of his cheek instead. This time, Sam was comparing the neckline of the dress to your shirt, imagining you in it. Flushed, you folded it against your stomach and set it on top of your suitcase. You played with a hair tie on your wrist and reminded yourself that Sam wasn’t looking at you that way.

Dean whistled at the dress. “Man. Maybe we don’t even need the witch-killing spell,” he gave you an appreciative smile, “this guy’ll explode the minute he sees you.”

“That better be a compliment,” you glared at him, and for good measure, Sam swatted him on the back of the head. 

“You’ll look just fine,” Sam assured, sounding unenthused.

It was your God-given job to keep him on his toes, so you flicked the bottom of his beer as you passed him and warned with a smile, “That better be a compliment too, Winchester, or you’re both in trouble.”

“Mom, Dad,” Dean whined, “please don’t flirt in front of me.”

In an instant, Sam slipped his bottlecap off the counter and you rolled your hairtie off your wrist. Dean had just collapsed face-first into his bed when both projectiles whizzed off him, ricocheting onto the carpet. You hadn’t realized Sam had moved at the same time until his bottlecap had popped off Dean’s head, startling you into bubbly, shoulder-shaking laughter. Sam didn’t laugh—he rarely did, not since he was a kid—but he smiled, and for now that worked for you.

“Tomorrow, you’ll get some kind of DNA off of our witch at the bar, we’ll do our spell, and we’ll follow you in the car to make sure you’re safe,” Sam decided, softening his voice. He said this mostly to himself, and you indulged him even if you knew your game plan, just because you knew it was a comfort to him to list it out for himself. Years of staying home while Dean and John were off hunting had narrowed his life into lists—of school assignments, of tasks to handle while they were gone—and he’d never grown out of it. You imagined it was why he was so meticulous. “Then, we’re clear.”

“People saved, things hunted,” you drawled, listing each on one hand, “family business—”

“—done,” Dean finished, giving a thumbs up where he was faceplanted in his bed. With that, he rolled over, turned off the bedside lamp, and flushed your room into cool darkness. “Night’.”

You and Sam chorused your goodnights to him. Then, Sam turned toward the window over the kitchenette, adjusted the salt there with the back of his hand, and closed the curtains to cut off the last slivers of moonlight.

As a hunter, it was in the job description that you had some precautions about the dark. With Sam there, across from you, you forgot all notions about being afraid. You enjoyed looking at him even more than the next girl did, but with darkness came a new depth of intimacy. Without sight, you could only collect context from the low timbre of his voice or his presence next to you. It was about feeling instead of seeing. And Sam, with the sweet way he said things and the gentle way he navigated the dark, was nothing but feeling.

The moment was brief, but Sam found your shoulder and followed it up to your temple, which he kissed. Like the lists, it was a ritual he’d never grown out of. And you never wanted him to. You could feel the warmth of his breath, of his hand, flushing through your whole body like the sweet-tasting humidity before a healthy storm. 

“Goodnight, ____,” Sam murmured near your face. He was like you, so if the dark made you more honest then it made him more honest; Sam sounded like he loved you.

You leaned into the brief contact, squeezed his wrist, and resisted the surge of hope pressing up your throat. “Goodnight, Sam.”

_

It should’ve been sad, how happy you were to be out despite the circumstances, but you knew even the best covers had a sliver of truth to them—and tonight, you wanted to flirt, to feel pretty flirting, and to kill some damn witches. Being covered in monster grime didn’t make anybody feel beautiful, and suiting up in a skirt and wedges to masquerade as a fed didn’t count. The hunt rarely gave you an excuse for self-confidence. If this was one of those times, you weren’t about to let it pass by.

And truth be told, you’d been under fire for so long that one witch didn’t feel like much of a threat. You weren’t so stupid that you neglected to realize what Hermes was capable of. But after your five-hundredth witch in over fifteen years of hunting, the fear of danger was nothing more than a wisp of tension floating at your shoulder. If it bleeds, you can kill it, Dean always said. And witches definitely bled.

Knowing that Sam and Dean were watching your six, that wisp of anxiety disintegrated entirely. It was so natural to have them there, Sam on your right and Dean on your left, that you usually dreamt with each brother somewhere in your peripherals. Hazy flying dreams and late-to-school nightmares included. Well, the school nightmares were less strange—once upon a time, you’d really gone to school with Sam and Dean.

Your parents were hunters. That made you like any other sullen, directionless hunter kid in the business, desperate to follow in their parent’s footsteps but terrified of becoming anything like them. Most pure-bred hunters like you didn’t have the fortune of an Uncle Bobby, though. Looking back, you wished you’d had more time with your parents—but you were grateful for the days they dumped you on him. Around when you’d entered middle school, Bobby’s house had become something of a hunter daycare. He wasn’t big on the idea. Obviously. But Bobby melted like all grouchy old men inevitably did, and soon your days spent racing to get him books and spell ingredients overlapped with his days babysitting Sam and Dean.

Dean was two years your senior, and had usually been the bane of your existence. But you’d both existed in the strange place between a hunter and a liability for your parents, so together, you were eager to please, learn, and emulate. Dean had done this because he’d wanted to graduate to a full-on hunter, but you were content with bringing phones to Bobby and helping without being in the way. Sam was much of the same. He was… He was quiet and sweet and he’d cut out the gum Dean had put in your hair without wrecking it. He wrote school essays that were cool instead of boring, and made everything seem interesting and beautiful. Dean had embodied hunting to you, then, and Sam was the breathable living space between.

You loved Dean, and you’d learned a lot from him. But you lived and breathed Sam—and the new, exciting proposition of a home somewhere else—because of the ideas he represented. Being a hunter so young had gutted your faith, and Sam, somehow, had rerouted it all. He’d shown you that there were seams between hunts that you could use to find your footing. Bobby had taught you how to be smart, Dean had taught you how to be practical, and Sam had promised you that all of this wasn’t for nothing. You figured that was why all of the hunters you met were weapons more than people; Sam Winchester hadn’t cupped their face on Bobby Singer’s porch and kissed them like they were still human.

That’d been more than a decade ago, and you could still feel how the rain had made your hair cling to your face, how the shoulders of Sam’s sweater were damp from the weather. The kiss had been brief and childish and a little unmoored. And yet it’d carried you through everything, even the literal end of the world, Sam going in the cage… all of it. He’d been your living space.

That had been built on the rare weekends you happened to be at Bobby’s at the same time, so having a few months of school together bonded you for life. They purposefully forgot to mention that John was settling them in your town and your school, hoping to surprise you. In hindsight, it was a sweet gesture, but there was a bold line between your hunting life and your school life for a reason. High school was awful for you. Your parents’ deaths had left you as exposed as a bloody nerve. With no one else around, your foster family unaware of… the real world, and a valley between you and the life you used to know, hunting was all you’d had. You’d spiraled into it deeper than you ever had before. One misstep in the hallway had spilled all of your research books and spell ingredients out of your backpack, immediately casting you as your school’s new resident freak.

Neither of the boys knew about… the bullying. It was such a pathetic word. You never told them, probably because school was as much of a sore a subject for them as it was for you. So they’d turned up, gleaming with excitement, only for whatever image they had of you as some tough, unflinchable hunter to shatter.

You’d been eating lunch comfortably alone, fork in one hand and research book under the other. All at once your table was crowded with your grade’s most self-absorbed clique, all of them probing you, asking you questions, and giggling amongst each other even at your innocent answers. They stole your book and read it out loud to each other. They prodded at your backpack, searching for more joke material. It happened so often that you knew better than to lash out, as you’d done before—or react at all, as you’d done before—and resigned yourself to another ruined day.

Then, Dean’s hands had cooly landed on your shoulders. Hey, ____, Sam had greeted warmly from your right, and you remembered how he hadn’t bothered to hide his scowl. Are these jokers bothering you? 

It was such a movie moment, a book moment, that the only thing you could call it was wish fulfillment. There’d been plenty of times when you’d wished they’d been there, or wished you could tell them about something that’d happened to you. But actually having it happen—Dean swooping in with that suave grin, Sam refusing to let you carry your own backpack…

You felt like you owed them. It was a small, easy kindness for them to pay, but after months of loneliness and alienation and absolute, incomprehensible loss, it’d been a surge of heat in an ocean of ice. Sudden and unexpected and life-giving.

Since then, you couldn’t remember a single time you hadn’t been in that same position. Standing there, with Sam and Dean on either side of you. As the Impala pulled up to the bar your witch often skulked, you looked reflexively to your left, and there was Dean in the driver’s seat. For once, you were upfront with him—Sam needed room in the back to perform the witch-killing spell.

“And you’re sure you can… hook him in?” Dean asked, gesturing blandly with one hand.

You bolstered yourself, so the smile you gave Dean was a bit more confident than you felt. “Well, his past victims have all looked like me. And, no offense, but I’ve been swindling guys like this since I was sixteen. I’m not too worried about that part.”

Sam sighed so deeply that you and Dean twisted to look at him. Realizing he’d done that out loud, he bumbled awkwardly over his own reaction and coughed. “Uh, yeah. But, uh, I’ll have to do the ingredients in order, so it might take a second after we get his DNA for the spell to go through. You’ll have to… to distract him, until then.” Sam flashed you a tight smile. “I’ll be fast, I promise. You won’t be stuck with that guy for long.”

“Good,” you said. The eye contact you were sharing suddenly felt purposeful. You eased yourself away from his gaze, though it was more of a lurch than a very casual, not-at-all tension-filled turn.

There was a brief lapse in the conversation that made your skin prickle from your spine to your neck. You could feel Dean’s smug amusement from behind his binoculars, simmering, which didn’t help. The focussed silence that usually settled over the three of you on stake-outs never came, so you rushed to fill it.

“...So,” you opened, “if our witch uses a glamor to make himself appear more enticing to each of his victims, then how can I be sure it’s him?”

“He’s gonna be the best-looking guy in the place,” Sam explained. He’d reined in whatever had bothered him earlier, apparently, because his tone became halted and professional.

Dean sprung up, whistling. “That’s how—there ya go, he’s right there.”

You leaned around Dean, trying to get some idea of what you were hunting, but his big ass binoculars were in the way. The witch was only just across the street, yet Dean adjusted the focus on the lenses, apparently aiming for a microscopic look. You lowered them from his face so you could see past them, and behind the eyepieces he was so flushed his freckles had disappeared.

“I mean…” Dean cleared his throat, but his blush only spread further. “Wow. Just. Wow, that’s a good-looking dude.”

You were already opening your mouth to tease him, but everything you’d planned to say, along with any idea of what your name was, where you were, and what you were doing, drained from your grip like a fistful of sand.

Wow. That was the only word you could remember. It occurred to you that Dean was seeing a totally different man because of the witch’s magic, and christ, were you thankful for it. You’d never hear the end of it if they saw what you were… enjoying. The witch pulled up the curb in a glittering white muscle car—which definitely added to whatever Dean was going through. But for you, it wasn’t the vintage Challenger or the shiny loafers, or… or the, um… the white blazer… or the crisp button-up under, uh, underneath… Or the witch’s face. Which was Sam’s face. No little changes to support your preferences in men. No beautification, supernatural glow or… anything else. Just Sam. Sam as he was right now, sitting in your backseat. Sam with his, uh… his face clean and happy… with… w-with his hair styled all nice, like he always styles it when you dress up…

He emerged from the car, facing away from you. He waved a hand at the parking meter and it fizzed out. The broad shape of his back rolled under his suit, panther muscle moving under pelt, and he turned toward the bar with the same grace. His movements were vaguely not-Sam, if you squinted. It was all too sly, and he walked like he wasn’t as tall as he was. But something in the glamor kept you from pressing that idea in your head. Your mind wanted to indulge the parts of him that did look like Sam much more, so any bumps in his mirage smoothed themselves over, perfecting the look. It was clever. Clever… and… and, um… wow…

You had a thought. “The, um…” you tried, “we…”

“Y/N,” the real Sam chided.

The binoculars you’d pulled away from Dean fumbled out of your hand at the closeness of his voice, and you scrambled to catch it, and so did Dean, but neither of you took your eyes away from the street. You ended up weirdly clutching it together, like the two of you were going to wrestle for the right to see the witch through the binoculars. If you were any more focused, you might have.

“Guys,” Sam said, unimpressed. “It’s just a glamor. Pull it together, please?”

“...Sam,” you tested the name in your mouth, “um, witch glamors, how do they work?”

“They’re projections of power. They make each person who looks at them see their ideal partner. Didn’t I tell you this already?”

“I-I know. Just.” You swallowed. “Do they, like, pull from people the person’s already met, or do they, uh… make it up? To suit the person.”

“Both. But it’s easier magic to just use people the victim already loves.” He stressed victim as pointedly as he could, reminding you of the role you’d be playing.

Dean pried his eyes away from the street. They slid over to you, and you immediately did not like the suspicious gleam waiting for you there. “Why? You see somebody you know?” He bounced his eyebrows.

“What? You? Oh, please,” you laughed. You blurted out the first person you could come up with. “He’s ...Leo. In Titanic. Who do you see?”

“Another time,” Dean dodged. You usually would never let him get away with a blatant conversation shift like that, but he was grinning to himself like he could see you bullshitting too. It made you nervous. “Go on and get in there so we can gank this chump.”

“Good luck,” Sam wished you from the backseat, sounding blunter than usual. “And remember—underneath all that, he’s a decaying, millennia-old skeleton murdering innocent women.”

“Got it. Reality check received,” you said. Taking the door’s handle, you shot the boys one last look to confirm they’d have your back, and ducked out of the Impala.

_

The bar was of a higher-end than you were used to, so it took some mental adjustment to prepare for your role. Usually, the barflies you tricked preferred rougher, meaner girls, and you got the feeling that wasn’t what fake-Sam—Hermes, you reminded yourself—was into. If he was going after married unfaithfuls, he probably enjoyed mature, deceptive women who talked a lot about all the money they had. It was weird to think of someone with Sam’s face being into that. 

The few pieces of gold jewelry you owned rattled on your wrists as you approached the bar. It was eight, prime drinking time, so everyone who’d had a long day at work or a date filled every inch of the place. Anyone who could afford the obscene prices, at least. A few minutes after you entered, you glimpsed Dean dissolving into the crowd. Hermes immediately took an isolated booth in the corner, where it would be easiest for him to scope out women at the bar. You only caught a glimpse of him. He lounged back, ankle on his knee, the low whiskey-hued light stroking one side of his face. It was… very Sam. He could’ve been on the couch at home, sunk into the cushions and reading a book by lamplight. You tried to reign in the confusing elixir of anxiety and attraction brewing in your stomach.

So far, he’d already begun to sort his targets. His honed-in look was unmistakable on Sam’s face. You made sure to pass in front of the women he was eyeing, and silently applauded yourself when his gaze was hooked on your figure. He trailed your slow saunter over to the bar with those intense, paletted eyes, lingering on the wedding band you wore. Knowing it was Sam—thinking it was Sam both helped and made things a million times worse. Your thoughts wandered like they never did on hunts, heart pounding.

Focus, you hissed to yourself. You needed to get him to drink something, so Sam, your Sam, could use the DNA on the glass in his spell. After setting up your act with a few coy glances, you suppressed the sickness rolling in your gut and summoned the bartender. “Two drinks—one for me, and another for the gentleman in the booth there.”

You almost ordered him Sam’s favorite beer, then felt supremely weird about it when deciding on a pricey whiskey instead. Man, was this place just begging for you to blow some cash. And this hunt… was really begging you to look some unspoken feelings in the face. As you waited for the drink to be delivered, it settled on you what Sam had said before—that this witch was wearing the body of your ideal partner. You weren’t stupid, you knew that’s what this was, but the confirmation from magic of all things…

It’s easier to just use people the victim already loves, Sam had explained.

You knew you loved him. You’d known since you were kids. But that was only ever something you told to yourself—now, the universe was shouting it back to you. It’s not like this witch reached into your mind and knew to choose Sam to get under your skin the most. The glamor was an automatic sort of magic, that you could tell. And if it was automatic… then it was all real. Your ideal partner really was Sam. Not even some dramatized, romantic version of him. The authentic article. It welled up inside you right there in that stupid-expensive bar on your stupid-expensive stool, a surging flood of emotion that seized you and tethered you to the floor.

Those feelings were always followed by the phantom pressure of Sam’s broad, gentle hands on your face. Your first kiss with him must’ve been more than a decade ago. He’d been so nervous that his hands shook, and he hadn’t taken up bow-hunting yet so the pads of his fingers were still soft. You’d held his wrists and trembled too, but you were relieved and excited and warm with wild summer liking, face tacky with dried tears. The last day had been spent weapon training. You’d shot a gun for the first time, and it’d stabbed the reality of your life right through your ribs. You were gonna kill things. It was going to be your job to kill things. Sam had sat with you while you’d sobbed on Bobby’s porch, squeezing you against him even though it was storming like hell. He’d sat there until your sides ached from laughing and you weren’t so worried about everything.

Sam promised you’d go through all this together, and he’d been right. Of course you were in love with him.

Okay. Hunt. Danger. Witch. Focus. He’s a decaying, millennia-old skeleton, you reminded yourself.

But the hand brushing your bare shoulder was young, healthy, and familiar. Down to the bow-hunting callouses.

“Excuse me,” he greeted. His voice wasn’t purring with seduction or intent, as you’d imagined. It was just light, easy Sam. Like it’d been a bit since he’d seen you, and he’d just climbed out of the car to give you a secure hug and a kiss on the hair. The witch settled his glass on the bar between you, expression glittering with feigned curiosity. “I’m sorry to bother you, but it was kind of you to send over the drink. I wanted to say thank you.”

Maybe he was reaching into your mind to emulate Sam. Why would a thieving, money-hungry witch be so polite?

“Anytime,” you said, and found yourself responding like you were really talking to Sam. The witch’s smile broadened into his dimples; he wanted familiarity. “It’d be rude to leave such a cute guy without a drink on such a nice evening, don’t you think?”

“I think it’d be rude to leave a beautiful woman without company,” he agreed, eyes twinkling.

Unfortunately, your body wasn’t in hunting mode, as it should be. It was in act-normal-around-Sam mode, but “Sam” was actively flirting with you—so all of your nerves were going haywire. Your skin warmed in ways it never did for the men you won your dinner money from. Or any other man but one, period. An embarrassing, genuine giggle burst out of your chest. “I-I don’t mind,” you beamed.

“Hermes,” he said, offering you one giant hand to shake.

You gave it to him, and immediately he turned it over in his palm, lowered his face to your knuckles, and kissed them appreciatively.

“Y-Y/N,” you blurted, instead of your alias.

Dear god. Jesus Christ. What the fuck.

“Y/N. Really.” The witch repeated. Now he was turning up the sultriness. His voice was so nice and his hand was just like Sam’s and he—he even smelled like Sam.

“No. Uh. Y/N L/N, not Y/N Really,” you joked. Your full name. Out loud. Instead of your alias.

What the actual fuck.

“Forgive my asking,” and fake-Sam ran his thumb over your wedding band, his lips parted and his breath lingering on your hand. His voice was coated with want and humor. “But is there a Mr. Really?”

Fuck. Wait, yes. This was good. This was what you wanted.

You gathered yourself, but not too much, cause he seemed to like your clumsiness. Or maybe it gave him more incentive to kill you. “Yes,” you said, tip-toeing with your wording, “...does that bother you?”

Hermes just grinned and shook his head.

The witch gestured to the stool beside yours, and you nodded maybe a little too much. He claimed it, folding his legs uncomfortably because he was a bit too tall. It made you realize that the glamor worked even better (and harder) up close. All of the little details you loved about Sam—the slight crook of his left incisor where it’d almost been punched out a million times, the freckles under his collar and sleeves—loaded in. You swore they hadn’t been there before.

But, you still haven’t seen him drink from the cup. He wraps his hand loosely around the glass on the illuminated bartop, but otherwise doesn’t make a move, brushing his thigh against yours. You make up bland conversation about a long, arduous day at the wealthy company you work for. You complain a little bit about the doggy daycare your pure-bred Pomeranian goes to. When the bartender comes by, you tip him a good chunk of money right in front of Hermes. And if none of that is working, you bait him with the wedding ring and the cut of your dress.

It’s weird. It’s so fucking weird. But that’s kind of your life, so you’ve learned to accept the strangeness, and you enjoy the surface flirting with this millennia-year-old man who’s planning to kill you. While wearing the face of the love of your life.

You realize that you’ll probably never have this with the real Sam. Not the murder part, but the easy date night flirting—not without the cost of your friendship, or testing Sam’s feelings about relationships. 

When you’re satisfied that he’s hooked, as Dean put it, you raise your second round of drinks together and toast to them. You make something up about good company, and Hermes drinks. He lets his hand cover your bare knee, drawing circles that set every hair on your body on end. After what feels like hours, you brush your nails against the hair at the base of his neck, lean in, and whisper in his ear, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

And with that sly, clever Sam smile, he agrees. But— “My place is close. May I walk you?”

“You may,” you reply, even if it’s a complete deviation from his M.O. The witch always takes his victims back to their own homes, that’s how he robs them. What, was he genuinely attracted to you? Was this a real hookup thing? Or, did he recognize your real name and planned to kill you? Knowing your luck, you’d put money on murder.

Instead of offering you his arm, the witch is gentle and sweet as he gives you his hand. Just before you slip away from your seats, you put his whiskey on the stool, away from the well-meaning bartender who might clean it. The second you make it out the door with Hermes, Dean skulks out of the crowd and drops the empty glass in a plastic bag. Now you’re on the clock. Either the boys get Hermes first, or Hermes gets you. No pressure.

When you get outside, the Impala’s parked elsewhere. You’re both bothered and comforted by that, because while it may mean that the boys are out of sight, your spell is being performed where prying eyes can’t see. That’s good.

Hermes gives your hand a playful squeeze. While you’ve held Sam’s hand before, those moments were always too fleeting for you to take in much. You imagine your mind, or Hermes’ glamor, is filling in the blanks for you. His fingers are long and his hold is encompassing, swallowing almost the whole of yours. You talk for the two of you, since it’s a part of his act to give as little information about himself as possible. He pretends to enjoy your conversation. It’s your mind’s greatest impression of an interested Sam, his brow furrowed, his head ducked in thought, his focus honed in on only what you have to say. The witch leans in close when he does speak, murmuring into your ear. He loves to touch your bare skin, so his hands linger on your shoulders and the exposed portion of your back. It’s all a tactic to win over your suspicion, you know that, but it’s Sam’s hands. It’s his hands and his voice and his face.

“You know what?” Hermes surveys the street, and peaks into the alleyway nearest you, weighing your options like it’s not obvious where he’s going to drag you. Come on. “Let’s take this shortcut here.” He gives you a devouring look, “I don’t want us to wait any longer than we have to.”

“The suspicious, dark alleyway?” You joke. Just a few more minutes. Almost there. It’s gotta be.

Fake-Sam’s smile is fond, and with the same quiet resolution that Sam brings to everything, he parts from your hand to wrap his arm around your waist. He cups your side and brings you against him. His arm is the perfect shelter from the chilly night, bleeding with body heat and the homey scent of the man you love.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he purrs, and admittedly, that’s when you start to panic.

Not because he was edging you into a creepy alley—alleys, in the hunting life, were familiar territory. Or because you realized you were about to fight him. That was more than routine to hunting; it was hunting itself. What made you panic was your own willpower here. You could cut down a thousand evil witches a day, but nothing in this world could make you put that knife to Sam’s throat. Not death, not hell, not heaven. All of them had tried. Every one of them had failed.

This wasn’t Sam. You knew that. The difference was palpable. But it was close enough to make you hesitate, and you were dreading what that could mean.

“Alright, hero,” you flirted. “Lead the way.”

He teased your waist with a squeeze, then began the slow, intimate walk he imagined you were hoping for. The witch started to chat about how much he loved the city, how lively the people were. Bullshitting. Trying to settle your anxiety—so you were open to attack. Well. If he was so hellbent on cornering you now, all you could do was drag it out for as long as you could. You snuggled close to him, and pretended to admire the night sky between the towering downtown buildings.

The two of you passed the back end of a business’s warehouse. Its windows were thin-paned and close by, shimmering with neon light the closer you came to it. You made bubbly, flirty conversation, and calculated in your head when would be the perfect time to smash the glass and attack him with it.

He must’ve had the same idea.

You woke up two seconds later, glass in your hair, in your dress, and prickling painfully between you and the icy concrete floor. The warehouse ceiling floated overhead. Streams of moonlight poured through the uneven shape of the now-destroyed window. It took you but a breath to register this, then you were rolling onto your hands and snatching up the biggest shard that had survived your crash. In an instant you were heaving yourself to your feet and plotting: just a little more time, they just need a little more time, all you had to do was distract.

A long shadow fell over the glass debris. This was the part where your adrenaline would kick in, but a hot, ugly dose of fear joined it. That was Sam. You were fighting Sam. No, y-you—you weren’t—

“Well, isn’t this special,” Hermes cooed. He strolled toward you, the glass crunching under his loafers to the beat of his lazy walk. Everything but his smile was obscured by the dark. “The Winchester whore. I’ve heard of you. I have to say, I’m a little—”

“—disappointed? Let me guess: I’m shorter than you thought, prettier than expected, yadda yadda,” you filled in for him. “G-god, can’t any of you losers find different scripts?”

You knew the shard wouldn’t do much, but you’d hoped having it out in front of you would make you feel better. It didn’t. Hermes stepped into a shaft of light, illuminating Sam, with his hair in his eyes and a curious, calculating turn to his lip. It was straight out of any pink-hued day of your teenage years. Like he’d just found something fascinating in a book he was reading, and was beckoning you over to share it with you. And if it came down to it, you’d have to make him bleed if you wanted out of here.

“Fine. We’ll skip the pretense, then,” Hermes bargained, and with a wave of his hand you were slammed back-first into the nearest product shelves.

Pain exploded across your back, whiting out all else. You dropped a whole foot to the floor and collapsed there, pathetically gripping the closest table to find the courage to stand up. You couldn’t. Every deep breath you took seized your ribcage like a snapped trap. Shuddering in place there, you heard Hermes step across the glass, coming closer. Closer. Come on, Sam, you thought. For a moment, just a moment, you were truly afraid of him.

But this was Sam’s face. Out of all the faces you could see the moment before it all went dark, you’d be glad if it was his. The fear lightened. You lifted your face to meet his, snarling. Hermes waved his hand, and in one great cacophony, like a chandelier dragging itself across the floor, the broken glass fluttered up in a swirling cloud and hung in the air around you like stars. Deadly, jagged stars.

“One less thorn in my side,” he decided, and the hand—a copy of the love of your life’s hand, closed into a vicious fist. The shards whistled.

Hermes exploded into smoke.

The glass hung in the air for a moment more, then rained down on the floor again, shattering into powder. You flinched away and jerked to cover your head, and when all was quiet, and Hermes’ smoke was dissolved in the wind, you rolled onto your side and let out the breath you’d been holding.

People saved. Things hunted. Fuck, your back hurt.

You laid there for a moment longer, having fun pitying yourself, when a sharp cry of your name echoed down the alley outside. It took you a second to gather enough breath to holler back, “In here, Dean!”

Dean sprinted clear past the window, then backtracked so hard he almost tripped. “Y/N,” he sighed. Relief could’ve bowled him over at that moment.

As he charged through the broken window and swung his gun at the dark, you sat up, aiming to smile. You couldn’t really do it. “The witch is dead. Sam got him. High five?”

Dean hesitated, but after stashing his pistol in his waistband and taking stock of your injuries, he gave your raised hand a light smack and opened his arms. The gesture alone made all your injuries feel numbed. “Alright. Up and attem’. Let’s get you some Barbie bandaids and a big dinner, huh? You deserve it.”

“Hell yeah,” you breathed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Without hesitation, Dean scooped you onto your feet, brushed the hair stuck to your bloody forehead aside, and started to guide you toward your exit. After a long beat of you laying your head on him and soaking in everything that's happened, Dean murmured, “The witch didn’t look a thing like DiCaprio, did he?”

You watched your footing instead of Dean’s face. “No. No, he didn’t.”

_

After the bigger chunks of glass were taken out of your skin, you took a quick, wince-filled shower, and toweled your hair on the motel bed you shared with Sam. The glass was surprisingly the least annoying part of fighting the witch; what had really fucked you up were the bruises, which were blooming all along your back in shelf-shaped rectangles. Your injuries were pretty light for a witch hunt, though, so you contented yourself with being alive in a pair of snuggly pajamas.

It was well past eight by now, so the rooms adjacent to yours were quiet, and the road outside threw occasional beams of light across your bedspreads. You always loved the motels on the outskirts of town more than their inner-city counterparts. Though they were usually more run-down, the sounds of tires whisking on asphalt and frogs croaking in the weeds comforted you. Dean rarely let you keep the windows open, but he wasn’t about to snipe at his poor, injured best friend, so you arranged the salt on the sill in neat lines and soaked in the midnight breeze. In safer times, you and the boys might’ve had a bonfire at Bobby’s on a night like this.

Dean left the bathroom light on and propped it open enough to see by. He lapsed into his post-hunt ritual in the half-dark, chattering about your success, while Sam perched in a chair and didn’t speak.

He’d succumbed to an unnerved, unbroken silence once you promised him on the drive back that you’d live. A couple of throws and one window weren’t going to kill you. There was no chance in hell that he couldn’t sense that the witch was eating at you for different reasons, though. If he could tell the route a car had taken while blindfolded, then honing his sensitivities to the daily shifts in your mood was child’s play. But if you pushed him to let it go, he would, because he respected your limits—you just weren’t looking forward to having that conversation.

Dean chattered constantly, like he usually did when something was wrong in the air between the three of you. He’d even tried to hold a conversation with you through the bathroom door while you showered, for god’s sake. When you emerged, hissing at every pinch in your back tissue, Dean was waiting with clothes, a careful smile, and a medkit. His brother was still silent, though he’d jumped up from his seat.

“Sam?” You worked up the courage to say. “Could—would you mind, uh, helping me with my back? There’s… still a lot of pieces I couldn’t get.”

“Uh… Dean can.” Sam drilled his eyes through your room’s door, hunching into the collar of the jacket he hadn’t removed yet. “M’ gonna walk. I need to clear my head,” he sighed, snappishly, and poured all his willpower into not scrambling out the door as fast as he could. It whipped shut behind him too quickly for you to say anything back.

“...Okay. Well. Sucky job, huh?” Dean said. You heard him pop open the medkit and dip the mattress behind you, so you shuffled back a bit and carefully lifted the fabric of your shirt covering your back.

“Yeah,” you muttered. Sam’s shadow flew past your window and disappeared in long, curt steps towards the cicadas chirping by the roadside. You leaned further and further to chase his figure by the porch lights, but Dean gently reeled you back so he could start in on the tinier fragments.

“You helped a lot of people today,” Dean said, trying to goad you back to the conversation. You could hear in his pauses how worried he was about his brother, but you both knew that it was better to give Sam time to simmer, then return.

“Oh, just women willing to cheat on their husbands,” you rolled your eyes.

Dean braced his hand on your shoulder, and gave you a little warning squeeze every time he was going to pull one of the pieces out. The bloody glass tinking into the tin and your sharp winces soon formed a shaky rhythm. “Still people,” he pointed out. You didn’t reply, simmering in the thrum of his voice and the burn of your bruises.

When Dean started putting antibiotics on the cuts and loading them up with Barbie bandaids, as promised, you blurted out: “You think I upset Sam?”

You were hoping for a doubtful laugh or even some kind of scoff, like Dean found it hard that Sam could ever be mad at you, because that’s how his world worked. He needled the two of you all the time for how inseparable you were. You were you and Sam was Sam, mingled too closely for anyone else to squeeze in the middle. Usually, if you asked Dean something like that, he’d shrug. You’d know better than me, pal.

Instead, Dean released a deep breath from his nose. He did it like that so often now that you could recognize it, which unsettled you, since it was Dean’s withholding-sigh. You could usually pry just about anything out of him, but he had this wall that he hit sometimes with Sam. Brother confidentiality or whatever. You could respect that—when things didn’t involve you potentially upsetting Sam.

“Dean,” you tried again, “did I do something wrong? I feel like you’re not telling me everything here.”

He tore open another bandaid with his teeth and choose not to speak. It was enough to tell you that Dean knew he shouldn’t intervene, even if he wanted to.

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him. “Dean. C’mon. How many favors do you two knuckleheads owe me after today?”

Dean counted them in his head, closed his eyes, and cursed. “Don’t make me say it, Y/N. You’re a smart girl. You can’t be this blind.”

“Dean.”

“You don’t get it. Sam will be pissed with me.” He snapped the med-kit closed.

“If he gives you shit for it, you know I’ll cover for you. I’ll tell him that I coerced you and everything, that I cornered you,” you goaded. To make your argument even harder to ignore, you whipped down your shirt and rolled around to face him, your eyes big and bleeding with heart. “Sam is clearly upset. All I want to do is help him.”

Dean’s arms hung at his sides. His tells were small, but for a second there, you could’ve sworn you’d loosened his resolve enough. Instead, he shut you down with a short glare. “...Show me your shoulder.”

You held there for a moment, unmoving and stern, just to press how serious this was to you. If you’d done something to hurt Sam’s feelings, all three of you knew the lengths you’d go to make it up to him. And Dean keeping the reason why so close to his chest could only go two ways—either it was so light and petty that it wasn’t worth mentioning, or it was too terrible to voice. Only one of those ended with Sam nursing an infected wound for months. Few emotional appeals would reach Dean’s ears, but you thought he and his brother deserved someone who fought to right any grievances made against them.

With two fingers, you yanked your collar to one side. Sitting in the meat at the curve of your neck was a fat gauze bandage as wide as three fingers. Dean tested the edges with his thumb while you jabbed, “It’s fine. The stitches didn’t get messed up in the shower.”

“And the painkillers?” Dean checked.

“Working,” you answered. “Now, tell me what’s up. You can’t lie to me for shit.”

Again, you expected an awkward wince or a reluctant grimace from him. And again, Dean surprised you. He sighed deep into his shoulders, cupped the unmarred side of your neck, and shocked you into place with a burning, deathly serious look. “...Son of a bitch, fine! This is a big deal to me, okay? I’m breaking my brother’s trust here—but only because I think it’ll be better for the both of you, capiche?”

You nodded just as gravely. “What is it?”

“Sam…” Dean held you in place for a second more, then drifted out of your orbit, following his thoughts and hesitation in a circle around your hotel room. You let him think, a slow ugly sickness building in your throat. “Sam has feelings for you, okay? He’s—he’s had them for a while. So long that it’s insane to me that you haven’t noticed it yet—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. “Dean, please, I’m really worried about him. I don’t have time to mess around right now.”

Dean’s flailing arms dropped to his sides. He just stood there looking helpless, waiting. Waiting more.

“...Dean.” The name tasted like oncoming tears. You straightened up and steeled yourself, pressing into every new, stinging wound at your posture’s disposal. “This is… now y-you’re just being mean. You know how I feel about this.”

“I’m…” his hand fumbled upwards, like he thought about calling upon a higher power for help here, then remembered how that’d turned out last time. “Y/N, I’m not messing with you here. Sam has been crazy about you since we were kids.”

You believed him. It took some pacing, some crazed muttering, and some hard, labored breaths, but eventually you broke out of your trance and realized you believed him.

Dean nudged his chin at you, waiting for a response.

Pathetically, you said: “W-why?”

“Pardon?”

You summoned your best glare. “Level with me here. Just. Why?”

“Why the hell would I know?” Dean sputtered. He shrugged up to his ears, smiling a bit, like this was as grand a mystery to him as it was to you. “All I know is that he’d burn this world to the ground for you. Everything today… with you playing bait, and everything… It freaks him out, your scrapes. I mean, it freaks me out too, but I know you can handle yourself. It’s… I dunno, he’s mushier. It’s more personal to him.”

You thunked down on the closest surface, which could've been a hot stove for all you cared; numbing tingles rolled all the way up your arms and legs. Usually, you had a good reign on your own feelings, but now they galloped free too fast for you to catch. Exhaustion’s sweeter cousin barrelled you over. Shock and relief and love and terror each took their own swing at you, until you sat there with your hands limp in your lap, feeling like you’d laid down on the sidewalk and all of your feelings had lined up to kick you around. For the first time in your life you sat down and cried at the drop of a hat. It was fucking awesome.

A bubbly laugh rolled out of you. “Me too. I-I do too. Holy shit, am I over-reacting or what?”

Dean’s warm hand rubbed a spot on your arm the glass hadn’t touched. “Uh, maybe a bit. But I guess you’ve both waited a long time, so Sam’ll probably think it’s… sweet, or some bullshit like that.”

Another laugh surprised its way out of you. “Shut the hell up. God, you were right—I’m so blind. Do you think… Should I…? Sam, he’s still mad.”

Dean paused, enjoying how panic and delight warred on your face. “Not mad. More like…” he searched for the word, beaming slyly, “...jealous.”

_

Sam returned to a buzzing, eager silence in the motel. The second he had inched the door shut behind him, sheepish and looking like it, Dean shoved on his driving boots. You noticed how Sam was careful to catch your eye just once, otherwise entertaining himself with the pattern of the carpet. He at least seemed a touch more clear-headed. Sam had always loved a good, breezy walk; one of a million of his quirks that you loved too much to forget.

“Alright,” Dean scooped up the Impala’s keys, flicking the lapels of his jacket. “I owe Y/N her favorite dinner, like I promised. You want anything while I’m out?”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Her favorite place is at least an hour and a half from here,” he said, because of course he remembered that.

His brother shrugged. “I’m in the mood to drive. Cabin fever n’ all. See you nerds in,” he was not at all subtle when checking the clock in your room, or smiling about his results: “...three hours. Ciao.”

“It’ll be cold by—” Sam started, but Dean had already sauntered passed him, swinging his keyring in one hand. His whistling carried all the way out to the lot, and quietly you wondered how long he’d been wanting to tell you what he had.

Sam was forced to turn to you. His displeasure from before had slowly melted into embarrassment, but he wasn’t about to show it. He made a helpless gesture at the door like, welp, there goes that, and the elixir of liking in your chest shook loose a giggle. A real giggle. At least you could be embarrassed together.

Since sleeping on your back was off the table for the next week of your life, you’d gotten comfy on your stomach. With Sam gone, you had the room go completely diagonal on your shared bed, angling toward the dingy colored light of the TV. Dean had put on some random soap opera you weren’t a fan of, but tonight you thought of nothing but one thing. Sam has feelings for you, Dean had said. He’d burn this world to the ground for you, Dean had said.

Repeating them to yourself felt like writing the words down and holding up the paper by Sam’s face—weighing those images against the man you knew. You’d… guessed. Hoped is more accurate. But to see those words in action, moving and breathing in a person, totally blew you out of the water. Dean was right; you were dumb as hell for not seeing it before. Sam teetered on his heels in front of you. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, hiding behind his bangs and forcing himself to stand still. When you shied away to look at the TV, you could feel his gaze devouring you in every dose he could manage. Searching and memorizing. Every time you were occupied, Sam admired the soft curve of your back in your sleep shirt, your swept hair, your shorts, the exposed skin of your neck, your face.

Still, you’d hoped and only hoped for so long. You believed Dean. But you couldn’t bring yourself to understand that it was possible in the first place.

While you watched the television and panicked over what to say to him, Sam toed off his shoes and hung his jacket on the nearest chair. After a moment of hanging in the middle of your room, directionless, he followed his heart to your bedside.

“You feelin’ better?” He dipped the mattress just beside you, your side pressed against his night-chilled back.

You shuffled up onto your elbows, smiling at him with such vibrancy and realness that Sam flushed up to his ears. “I’m all good,” you promised, and it was the truth. “Happy to rid the world of another tie-wearing evil.”

That earned a dry smile. You carried through it, buoyed by everything except thought. “Only got three stitches this time,” you told him, sounding smug, and pulled down your collar to show him the bandage.

All your mind wanted to do was take a shovel out of the Impala and bury yourself off the edge of the highway, but the unbridled joy in your body didn’t care. It brimmed over everything else. The heady, healthy foam of it conquered every other feeling. Your nervousness, your terror, your anxiety. You couldn’t believe that you were just sitting here and talking about nothing. The truth was giddy in your ribcage, like good news you couldn’t keep from him any longer. Sam recieved it so rarely.

Sam just stared at you. You could only make out one side of his face in the dark, the cheek painted with the waltzing colors of the soap opera on the screen. Blues and peaches and warm grays. He was bent so close to you that you could keep your head comfortably sunk into your pillow, and you did, studying him as he studied you. The longer he took you in the more he seemed to relax. One of his hands flexed against the mattress, bringing him back to the world the two of you shared. Your exchange went on for so long that the hand on your open collar went slack, and so did Sam’s jaw. Dean was gone and the two of you were in the safe realm of the dark again—usually, Sam would reach out and brush his hand down your back, squeeze your arm, or kiss your forehead.

“If you’re good, then… good,” he said, distantly. “I’m beat. Let me help you move, huh?”

“Okay,” you hummed.

Even as Sam stood, his face chased yours, one side of a magnet seeking its counterpart. He hovered as you shuffled onto your calves, then pulled back the covers for you to worm under without disturbing your torn skin. You only had so much time to say something—and after so long, nothing could keep you from telling him. Not if you were sure he still felt the same way. You hesitated to lay down, and Sam, sensing your need to speak, paused too.

“Oh,” Sam realized. “I’d almost… forgot. Can I…?”

He waved to your forehead, and before he could retreat out of awkwardness, you convinced yourself to nod. Sam went as far as cupping your arm, then wavered. It was just cute, now. “You can,” you murmured between you, “go ahead.”

Sam dropped a brief kiss on the side of your face, then turned tail for the bathroom to get ready for bed. You had this whole fantasy in your mind of Sam letting his lips linger, burning the shape and feel of them into your soul like you wanted him to, but the two of you hadn’t breached this territory in years. Both of you were terrified of it. Before you could let that fear control you, you blurted out:

“He looked like you.”

Sam’s figure twisted toward you in the dark. “Huh?”

You cleared your throat, which burned front to back with need and apprehension. “The witch, Sam. He looked like you. To me.”

Sam couldn’t look at you dead-on without light, but he tried. Those hungry eyes, hungry for safety and closeness, scraped down your outline. Then again, testing the groves they’d dug. Sam was reminding himself of all the blood he’d seen before, driving back in the Impala and pulling glass out of your jacket with slippery, trembling hands. He deflated. He started toward you, then deflated again.

“He did that to you, with my face—” Sam bleeds.

Before he can start to spiral, you rope in his hand and squeeze it through his sleeve. It’s big and enveloping, just like Hermes’ was, but there’s so much more that the magic just couldn’t replicate. He has a mole on his wrist you’d forgotten about and these subtle veins that bump under your thumbs. His knuckles are strong and feel almost welded, but underneath all that you can feel how gentle he’s worked to be. How much he’s still scared of himself. His mind may be enclosed with good intentions, but Sam had always thought of his body as something that didn’t fully belong to him. Even if the witch didn’t possess him, to Sam, the used goods, the meat suit, it feels like it. And the last thing he’d want his possessed body to do is hurt you. Manipulate you.

“Shh,” you soothed. “No. You’re missing what I’m trying to say. The witch… his glamor made me see the most p-perfect—the best man my mind would come up with.”

Sam just stared. You squeezed his fingers, willing him to understand. His other hand, chilled by his walk, wound slowly over your shoulder. His two leading fingertips lingered over the square white bandage at the junction of your neck. Though he was repulsed by what he thought was his own handiwork, you pressed closer, chasing the rough pads of his bowhunting calluses no matter how much it stung.

“Sam,” you said, sternly.

He just shook his head, ripping his free hand back. Sam pressed: “When he hit you, he looked like me.”

You wound your tether to him ever closer, growing bolder, bringing his hand into the warmth of your chest, entwined against your collarbones. The tears surged into your lashes, but you resisted them with a shake of your head. “It made it easier,” you laughed without mirth. “When he was flirting with me, but at the end, too, yeah. Is that fucked up?”

Sam breathed short from his nose. “Yeah, a bit. But you know I’d never—”

“That’s not even a question. Of course you wouldn’t,” you swore to him. Since the humor was teasing into his voice again, you joined it with your own, pressing your face into his arm. “But, um. If you were jealous of him, well. You should know that there’s really no contest.”

Another long, draining silence haunted you from overhead for a moment, and Sam swayed in place, his hand dropping suddenly on your shoulder. For balance? Was he really… winded? Floored? The show on beside you faded to black, submerging you both in inky, sightless dark. You could feel it in his hands now—Sam was quivering with disbelief. His broad palm scoped up your neck. His hand parted from yours between you, palming across your shoulder. They joined seamlessly together on each of your cheeks, cupping your face just like they had before. You rose into the touch, following him up, until you were standing between his socks at your bedside with your face in his hands. They were still pretty cold; but warming up, and fast. Just like before, you softened all over and held steady to his wrists.

Sam swallowed. “Dean told you?” 

“Yeah,” you choked, afraid of what your voice was capable of. “Don’t be mad at him. Or jealous of some stupid witch. There’s… you have to know by now, that nobody even holds a candle to you, right?”

Sam laughed breathlessly. His long thumbs caressed your skin, your under-eyes, weighing the feel of you and your closeness like it’d be taken from him any minute. His left hand pressed even closer, and you met the scar there with your cheekbone. This is real, you promised him.

“Me too,” he gushed, and the sound poured right out of him just as yours did, overboiling with joy. “For you. Nobody, Y/N, this whole time, nobody compares.”

Real happiness was so new to you that the two of you hovered there, waiting for it to be ripped away. Your face ached, from smiling, from crying, from bruising, and it strained your chest a bit to laugh. You surged into Sam and let it all go anyway. Giggling uncomfortably rattled the injuries on your back, but any ache you felt was soothed by Sam's broad hand in your hair, stroking it away from your face. He was still chilly from his walk. There was a small building heat in the middle of his chest, so you squeezed even closer to meet it and found a leaching embrace instead. The pressure of him all around you could’ve put you in tears again. It hadn’t been long since you’d hugged him, but you could feel that love this time—the way Sam swayed with you in his arms, the way he kept pawing your neck to bring you closer and closer. Like the feeling of you laughing in tandem with him wasn’t enough. He needed to absorb you, be you, for you to be close enough to satisfy him.

He was careful to watch the injuries on your back, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to palm your bruised shoulder blades, to drag his nails down your glass-pocked spine, to squeeze you as close as possible no matter how much your material body hurt. A button on his shirt was digging into your cheek and his chin was poking your head. But it didn’t matter—he was the real deal, imperfections and all, just how you liked him. Loved him.

“Nobody?” You murmured, in disbelief.

Sam shook his head. “Nobody, Y/N. Not anyone.”

Nothing could pull you away from him then, so you didn’t bother to arrange yourself comfortably to kiss him. His face was so close to yours that you could breathe only him and the old books he smelled like. You knew that the second you kissed him that it’d be all over—forever marrying your visions of living to him, and giving your lifeblood a name. It was dangerous in this business to give your reason for living legs and a heart. But Sam’s sleepy eyes had closed and his pulsed swished under your hand, and you knew it was decades too late for that.

Your palms dropped to his chest, and Sam pinned them between you, ducking his head low enough to ache and searing you hard against him. It should’ve been awkward and cramped. You forgot that as you melted into the smell of him, a slab of chocolate in the sun. The kiss should’ve been cursed, since the angels swore he was, that you would be too. If it was, then cursed was warmth and love and closeness. Safe at last! Your body sobbed into the kiss. It all felt silly; like you could’ve done this ages ago.

Sam burst into snickers. You did too, against his mouth, and between peals of laughter you tried to scold him, “Shhh, you big idiot—” but Sam just shushed you back and kissed you again.

He dipped his head like actors in the movies did, intense-eyed and deeply fond, which made you flush and giggle harder. You both gave lose attempts at more sweet pecks, only to absolutely lose it when Sam almost knocked the lamp off the bedside table. Eventually, you were giggling too hard and stumbling too much to kiss properly at all. This didn’t intimidate Sam, who cleverly angled your cheek with his thumbs and kissed where you weren’t laughing. You squealed and wiggled for an escape that wasn’t actually alluring to you at all. Each time Sam caught you on the brow or the corner of your lip, you’d giggle and squirm away, only to float back into his orbit again. Parallelling the millions of games you’d played together as kids; tag, hide and seek, marco polo. Just another chase. Just another step in your infinite cycle.

“Really,” you said, eventually. An embarrassed heat prickled through your entire face. “Nobody compares to me. You really think that?”

“How many more times would you like me to say it?” Sam asked. He did this with both of your hands closed in one of his, his tone clever and sincere. “Not anyone.”

“You… you cheeseball,” you accused, and Sam’s mouth snapped closed to suppress another bubbly chuckle. It’d been ages since you’d gotten him to laugh so hard, so you were gluttonous off it and determined to steal more. “This whole time, you’ve been running around with this schoolyard crush on me… Man, this is quality blackmail material. Did you gush about me in your diary? Write Mr. Sam L/N in all of your notebooks?”

In the stark darkness, Sam again inclined his face over yours. “Did you?”

“No,” you blurted, a little too fast. “...It was Mrs. Y/N Winchester, obviously. It’s different.”

Sam just shook his head, charmed. You could feel him standing there across from you, admiring you in the silence, and it slammed on you like a ton of bricks that Sam must’ve done that before. A couple of times, at least. Just looked at you because he liked you so much. Any flirty confidence you’d built up was overpowered by a wave of shyness.

You rushed to fill the loving silence. “But. About the comparison thing… Good. I-I’m, I’m happy. I always wanted… I always wanted to be your… your first choice, I guess. Is that selfish?”

Sam hummed a no, and again his hand floated up to your face to warm your cheek. It filled you with so much want that your knees nearly buckled. Flustered out of your mind, you rambled: “I wasn’t a fan of Ruby, or, uh, that Becky girl from the convention, or the doctor chick in Iowa…”

He rumbled your name. “I don’t want to talk about them,” he murmured, amused, and kissed you once. When Sam parted from you, the silky lilt of his whisper in your ear flushed your belly with need. “I want to talk about you. And I definitely want to kiss you.”

“Sam…” you murmured. He dipped in for another warm, wet kiss, that instantly wiped your ability to create thought. You had to hold onto his shirt to steady yourself, and by then Sam had paused to not interrupt you. “I-I just…” you scrambled for anything to say, made honest by the dark, “I remember how you looked at them. I imagined how your hands must’ve felt on them… how theirs felt on you. I-I know I’m killing the moment here, but I need you to know—I was, I was out of my mind with jealousy, Sam. I—yeah.”

The hold on him grounded you, and again a second time when his hand settled over yours. Sam brought his arm around your waist, which made you realize how much he’d held you versus how much you’d held him. It was a disappointing ratio, so you welded him closer and snuggled your arms under his shoulders, letting your hands praise the unwinding slopes of his back.

A pleasant sigh seeped out of him, which broke into a careful chuckle. “I’m gonna be honest with you—pretty much nothing could ruin this for me right now,” Sam admitted. Which really meant something, because the chances of this being ruined by just about anything were 80-20. “I’ve wanted this since I was like, twelve. I guess you could say I wasn’t a fan of that waiter in Kansas, or your date to junior prom, or even Dean.”

You choked on your own laugh. “C’mon. You’ve got to be kidding me. Your brother, Sam? That man does not wash his underwear.”

Sam’s weighty shoulders shrugged against your cheek. You could feel his smile against your hair, that slight dimple in his cheek…“He always gets the girl. N’ the others… I don’t know.” Plainly and clearly, he turned into your embrace to speak face to face, “It’s you. It’s always been you. But I’ve never been brave enough to say it.”

You had no clue how to respond to that. A winning lottery ticket could be dropped in your lap, hell could close its gates forever, the angels could finally decide to leave you alone, and you’d know exactly what to say. Holy shit, maybe. Or even a tasteful, what the fuck. But what was good enough for Sam? What words could you say to make him happier than he just made you? You’d never been as sincere or as well-spoken as him, but he deserved that and more.

“I’m just glad we’re saying it now,” you murmured, your throat tight with building tears. Whatever channel was playing illuminated more of your face to him in a frame of white, and there Sam seemed to absorb everything you couldn’t put into words.

His thumb brushed your cheekbone. “How long have you been sitting on this?”

“Since our first kiss,” you flushed. “So, uh, fifteen years?”

You could sense Sam’s smug grin coming from a mile away. He always glanced aside beforehand, like he knew he was about deliver a clever blow. “Sixteen,” he boasted. “When we almost shocked ourselves to death taking apart that old Ford in Bobby’s salvage yard—you taught me what an intercooler was, and I was so impressed I wanted you to be my girlfriend.”

“Sixteen whole years,” you scoffed. Just for emphasis, you gave Sam a little push, and he dropped down to sit on your mattress. Without question, he left room for you between his legs and you flushed down to your toes taking up that space. “You gotta beat me at everything, don’t you?”

“Maybe. But I hear it’s gentlemanly to let your girlfriend win every once in a while,” Sam hummed.

That was an obvious challenge put down just for you. It was all too easy for you to rise to the bait and fluster all at once, since Sam knew how to engineer his bets just for you. The divide between your friendship before and your relationship now was a web more than it was a line, so dipping a knee in his lap on the bed was easier than you would’ve thought. Leaning in and smoothing your hands around his neck was not. Sam’s breath hitched in his chest, which you relished in. All these little reactions he always had—they were all because of you. His shyness, his cute hesitation, his miserable attempts at being neutral.

“Well, I,” you clarified, walking two of your fingers up his collar, “hear that it’s gentlemanly to ask her out first.”

Sam really was a dork, because just a little physical flirting had his hands flitting without direction around your middle. Every time your fingers took a further step up his neck, his breathing grew deeper, straining for composure he wouldn’t ever find. Not on your watch. When you finally stole the kiss you’d been itching to take, Sam’s eyes fluttered shut and his hands scuttled to find a place on your waist, wracked with shyness. He really didn’t want to mess this up. It was a sweet notion, if it was even possible in the first place.

Eventually, they found their hold on your hips. You hovered in his space, soaking up the feel of him in the dark as his fingertips memorized you, cataloged you, admired you. Sam’s chin tilted up, silently asking for permission as his hands hovered at the edge of your shirt. Your kiss was all the answer he needed. Gently, his fingers slid under your shirt, where they stoked the sensitive skin of your belly just for the sake of feeling you.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” Sam whispered. He was nervous and everything, as if there was a universe where you would ever turn him down. 

The hands you’d braced on Sam’s shoulders pressed closer, taking in the texture of his shirt and the muscle underneath it, until one of your warm palms had snuck underneath his collar to press flat to his back. Sam released a low hissing breath. You met him with a deep, meaningful, possessive kiss, tickling your nails against the top of his spine. 

“I’m all yours,” you promised, and Sam’s whole body sunk in relief.

He made a desperate sort of gesture along the bottom of your back, avoiding your bandages but wanting you closer, deeper, nearer to him. Emboldened by his obvious yearning, you offered your knee over his thigh. Sam invited you closer. Anxiety swirled in your gut, but the touch of him was merciful and yielding; he’d do only what you wanted to do. This was Sam. You’d never felt safer, so you sunk comfortably into the bowl of his lap.

You kissed him in long pecks at first, the soft bulb of your nose pressing into his cheek. His lips were soft and plush and warm, and the deeper you tasted them the more they drove from you. Any rigid fear left in your chest dissolved at his touch. That’s what he must’ve been waiting for, because he put his arms around you only once you untensed, and with all the urgency of too-in-love teenagers, you embraced. Sam slotted your chests together. You cupped his neck and roamed his hair, crushing him closer until you could feel his firm middle flatten to yours. A low wanting sigh rattled out of him. It was so authentic and distinctly Sam that you felt foolish for ever seeing a thing in the witch’s glamor. This was Sam, with his gentleness, his fear of his strength, his hesitation to take what he wanted. You were proud of your choice of words: you were all his, because this Sam was definitely all yours. This was the Sam you knew.

It occurred to you just how much you’d dreamed of this before. Reality surpassed expectation with ease, purely because there was so much you hadn’t considered. Often, you’d dissolve into gooey daydreams of kissing him or making him happy, only to come out of them scolding yourself for feeding your feelings. Your unreciprocated feelings. But there were dreams you couldn’t control and times where you’d indulged yourself more than usual. Even then, though, you always kept Sam’s emotions out of the way. You’d dream of getting home late from work—in the “normal” world you’d never share—and crawling into his arms, sleepy, or vice versa. You’d dream of going for long drives with him and snuggling with him in the Impala. But you were always the one who said those three scary words to him, while he simply existed as he always did. If you puppeteered Sam into saying it, then you were taking a machete to any notion that your fantasies could be real—and making Sam lie in order to please you.

What you hadn’t considered was what would happen if Sam did say I love you, and, even better: if he meant it.

Sam murmurs it as you’re admiring him in the dark. His eyes had fallen closed and his head had tilted back, receptive to your touch. You loved to touch his face; you warmed his lap, cupped his cheeks, stroked the smooth back of your hand against his temple, and pushed the hair from his forehead in the cool motel darkness. Every once in a while the headlights of a car would give you a glimpse at him, and each time Sam’s gaze would almost be too much.

You whisper it back, thankful for the boldness the dark gives you, and feel something blaze hot inside you when his mouth drags down your cheek to your jaw. They’re deep and punctuating kisses. You’re reminded again of the sinking acceptance you’d felt when Hermes’ shadow had fallen over you. For a second, you’d thought that was gonna be it. Sam would’ve never known the truth, and would’ve ended up in that warehouse instead, picking the glass out of unresponsive skin. And though you’d survived today… Tomorrow, a reaper would have a million opportunities to take what had only just been sown.

You bunched your hands in Sam’s shirt, sounding urgent. “...Let me show you how much.”

Sam hung there for a moment, weighing the silence between your bodies. Weighing the space between them, and how much of it left there was. “You want that?” He asked. Sam made it sound like you were asking to stick your hand in a shark tank. “You’re… you’re sure?”

Your hand on Sam’s cheek turned over, so you were stroking your softer knuckles against his skin. You nodded, realized he couldn’t see it, and pressed in to brush your noses together. Sam’s head tilted all the way back to meet yours when you prayed: “I’m sure. I… I waited a long time to be close to you, so… I’m not gonna waste a second more.”

A breath rasped out of him in understanding. Like everything else in your life, this could be taken from you. Sam’s fingers crept up the back of your shirt, sliding around for where the bandages began and ended. He confessed, “Me either.”

His kiss drew deeper, more lovesick, chasing each one to their full depth. Your hands shyly migrated to the buttons of his flannel and smoothed there. He nodded, flattening his hand to the small of your back, and after that you didn’t have to wonder once how Sam felt about you. It was outlined clearly for you in Sam’s handwriting. He showed it in the absorbing nature of each of his kisses; how he nosed every new inch of your skin, taking care to declothe you the right and patient way; how aware he was of your bruises and bites. When you’re clothesless, he runs both of his hands down your arms and just feels you in the dark. Sam gives you the same courtesy. When you help him out of his last layer, your hands smooth against his chest, his arms, his shoulders, his neck, but the contact still isn’t enough—you need to be closer. You drag him into another gapless embrace, and Sam is already there, eager to pull you in. His hands knead you with purpose. Your hips, your waist, your stomach, are squeezed until every part of you feels raw and achy and alive. She’s real, Sam’s body sighs. Another surging, dizzying kiss has you dragging your nails down his back, tasting every puckered scar and raised laceration from his shoulders to his obliques. He’s plush and warm and firm and right, a missing piece finally filled.

With his arms around you, you kiss him breathless and thumb open the button of his jeans. Your spine tingles in delight the second your fingers are hooked in his belt loops. The butterflies in your belly are birds by the time his jeans are past his hips, and when you’re on your knees in front of him, Sam’s calloused palms exploring your neck and your hair, the bruises and cuts on your back are just a memory.

“You don’t have to—” Sam starts.

The smile on your face is a bit too clever. “I know.” You frame his waist in your hands, pressing both thumbs into the divots of his hips. Sliding downward to find his boxers, you can feel his legs trembling at your touch, the skin there prickling as it’s exposed inch by inch. You press a lingering kiss to his waistband that makes Sam’s breath hitch in his throat. “Just helping you out of these,” you smile innocently, plucking the edge of his boxers. “I’ll have my fun with you like this when your brother isn’t coming back in an hour.”

“O-okay,” Sam agrees, and even in the dark you can tell he’s grinning.

When he’s nude, Sam finds your hand in the dark and brings you to stand with him. Again, you’re slotted into place in his arms, skin tacky with building sweat and cooled by the open window. His face and neck are blazing with a blush. You push the back of your hand against it, feeling him, all of him, in the honesty of the dark. His face lowers to yours, and again you’re met with the impression that the moment he kisses you, you’re his—curse and angels and demons and all.

You accept it with nothing but bliss.

He guides your knees back to the bed again, this time supporting your thighs as you lift yourself up. Your whole body reacts like before, surging into him and purring deep in your throat. You loop your arms around his shoulders in a claiming sort of way, and where your skin meets it sticks and melts together. Dragging you in around the middle, Sam hoisted you into his lap and moaned into your kiss; you slot right onto him, knees tight to his thighs and your chest pressed to his. You have the slightest advantage over him like this, your shadow falling on him. Sam’s eyes flutter shut and he sucks down breath after breath, his hair in his eyes, illuminated in slivers by the television. Something about it just makes you wetter. When you push further into him, there’s a glide between your bodies that makes Sam groan.

“Sh, sh, be careful of your back,” he warns. “Could you—could you hand me my wallet?”

You pat his chest, forehead pressed to his, and answer with a laugh instead: “I’ve got the pill?”

A shift goes through Sam’s entire body, radiating up from his lap. He shuffles his hips, lips parted, and you can feel his excitement pounding in his chest. “Atta girl,” he decides, smirking. “That’s good too.”

Flushed from head-to-toe with heat, you cup Sam’s neck and meet him kiss for kiss. During, you find him between you and tilt in your hips, finally asking the silent question. Sam’s fingers scramble across your thighs, your sides, and around your back. He hangs there, trying to pin down how real this is. This is really happening, his heaving chest says. She’s right here in front of me. A wet, passionate kiss balms his worries. He gives you the littlest nod. That's all it takes for Sam to be met with new, plush territory. You pant into each other’s mouths, fingers digging into flesh, hips dying to sink further in, hanging on the precipice, and when Sam’s certain that you’re ready, that this is really what you want, he presses your thighs down.

A desperate sigh seeps from his mouth to yours, like there's no better place to be in the world than inside you. Something needy and high slips from your lips. For a long time, all either of you can do is bask in it, in each other, breathing hard and shivering. Sam hugs you—genuinely hugs you—against him. There’s a thought somewhere in your mind that you should be nervous at all the lines you’re crossing here, but… Any day of the week you could rub your cheek into Sam’s shoulder like this. It’s a new song, but familiar notes dance all the way through it. The motel room is silent but for the barely-there hum of the TV and the crickets outside, so Sam’s heart under your ear booms. You soak in the familiar sound of it.

“I love you,” you tell him, and Sam hushes it back so fast your voices overlap, then again, “so much—so, so much—” as he starts to move.

Your whole lower half rolls with him, a boat on a wave. An urgent, keening yes squeals out of you the second Sam encourages you down again. It's more than good, than perfect, and entwined so closely like this, you can hear every thought and whim swirling around his mind—can read him better than you ever could before. You feel foolish. How much earlier could you have had this, if you hadn’t been so afraid? There were a million times in your life where you could’ve told Sam. Before the cage, when the apocalypse started, when Dean died and you were stranded with only each other. You latch onto him as you find your rhythm, a hand in his hair, nails in his shoulders, seared as close to him as you can be. Sam gasps your name; happy.

I have him now, you remind yourself. And I’m more than happy with that.

_

tags: @lacilou

[ngkr-backyard]

Enstars x Reader Smut Month 2023 - Jun Sazanami

Tags: Fem!reader, first time, hook up, idol & fan relationship

Word Count: 902

Summary: You accidentally date your favorite idol, Jun Sazanami, who doesn't expect to date his fan. Your secret date feels like a dream.

Note: English isn't my first language, and I don't play ENGstars so I'm not sure how Jun talks in EN. I'm sorry for grammar mistakes and weird expressions😭

Ao3 Link

MINORS DNI

You must be crazy to have your first sex with someone from a dating app, especially someone who doesn't even have a clear profile pic showing his face. But you could tell this guy was good-looking from the eyes in that photo. So you sent him a friend request and swiped right. Luckily, he accepted and promised to meet with you, sending you the hotel's address. 

You are nervous about your first date but excited too. You lie on the bed in the hotel room, frequently checking your phone while waiting for your date. Finally, when your date texts you with a simple "I'm here," you know it is the time.

He wears a hat and a mask, covering most of his face. He quietly walks into the room and sits on the bed. It feels so awkward in the room, and you can tell that he is as nervous as you.

"Uh… Should we start with kissing?" You ask him, gripping your clothes awkwardly. 

"I guess yes…? It's my first hookup. Please tell me how you want it."

He sighs and takes off his mask and hat. As you expected, this guy has a pretty face. You are proud of your straight sense, but soon after, you realize how bad the situation is.

—Wait, he looks way too similar to Jun Sazanami, the idol you love so much. But you know Jun too well. You see his face every day. The guy you are dating now is Jun Sazanami himself.

You almost shout his name but hold back because you don't want to cause trouble or make Jun feel awkward. You close your eyes when you kiss him, trying not to look at his face. But it is like a dream when you feel his soft lips on yours. Isn't it how you have dreamed of the whole time? As Jun slips his tongue between your lips, you can't help but shiver and moan into his mouth. Soon you lose your strength, leaning helplessly against Jun's body. 

Jun starts stripping your tops while carefully lying you down on the bed. As soon as he removes your bra, he kisses your neck, nips your collarbone softly, and finally reaches your breast. Jun licks and sucks on your nipple while caressing your tits. His other hand reaches down and takes off your remaining clothes. Jun teases your clit for a while and then pushes his finger into your wet pussy, making you whine and squirm under him. It feels so good, much better than you playing with yourself alone. And your favorite idol is now making out with you. All these thoughts make you more and more horny, and you can only throw your head back helplessly and moan for him.

"Ah…Jun, please…!"

Jun suddenly stops, looking into your eyes in surprise. And you realize that you just said his name out loud, and you are terrified of ruining the whole thing. 

"I'm so sorry…! I didn't mean to make you feel awkward or anything…I won't tell anyone about this. Please forgive me…"

"Well, I know it's gonna happen at some point…" Jun sighs and smiles embarrassedly, "I'm an idol, after all. People are gonna recognize me, aren't they? You don't need to say sorry."

Jun explains why he's using that dating app—Hiyori is behind the scenes and urges Jun to find some fun stuff. Jun didn't put anything showing his face on his profile, wishing people wouldn't notice him and protecting his reputation, but he didn't expect to hook up with his own fan. 

"So that's everything…Can you keep it secret?"

You agree without hesitation. After all, you want to protect your favorite idol's reputation, but it's also because of your little selfishness. You want Jun to be yours, even if it's just for a night. 

Jun pulls you closer to wipe off your tears and give you another kiss. Your tongues tangle with each other. Soon, your body heats up, and you are turned on as just now. Jun smirks and licks his lips, taking the small package on the nightstand. 

"You're doing great. Now's the time for special fan service~."

It doesn't hurt at all when Jun finally pushes his cock inside you, probably because you want Jun so bad. You are so happy as your needy pussy is filled up by him. You still can't believe what's going on now, but the pleasure of Jun thrusting into you brings you back to reality. Jun fucks you hard, making you think of nothing but only him. He groans into your ears, telling you how good he feels inside you. In return, you put your arms around Jun's neck, moan his name loudly, and say that you love him so much. The two of you kiss again and again, just like a real couple.

…

You can't remember what happened afterward when you woke up. Jun already left, leaving some snacks and water for you. He also wrote a short note that he had a great time with you last night. 

You decide to keep that note from Jun as a secret memory between you two. You believe you will never see Jun again like that as the relationship between you two returns to idol and fan, nothing more than that. It was a dream. 

But you never expect Jun will reach out to you again. That's a whole different story. 

Note: I did it!!! I finally wrote a fic not in my native language for the first time!!!🥳 I always wanted to write something about idols having sex with fans which idols are not supposed to do…Sorry for bringing real life idol culture stuff into this, but I think that's very thrilling (for me at least Thank you Rei for holding this event! I really had fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it☺️

[winderlylandchime]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @lostcol and @madsworld15 thank you friends!

How many works do you have on ao3? 49

What's your total ao3 word count? 505,173

What fandoms do you write for? Currently Queer As Folk. In the past I've also written for CMBYN and CMBYN RPF.

Top five fics by kudos:

tied to a night they never met (CMBYN RPF)

I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules (CMBYN RPF)

Flo's Shows (CMBYN RPF)

you're like a tattoo (something I can't undo) (QAF)

'cause all I'll ever by is your dirty computer (CMBYN RPF)

Do you respond to comments? I do. Especially because I write for a smaller fandom, most of the commenters are my friends.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ya girl wrote MCD so that's pretty angsty: love is so short (forgetting is so long) (QAF)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my recent fics have happy endings (usually at a party, call it my signature move). I'll link carried me with you (QAF) because people said the ending made them cry (in a happy way). And it's not at a party!

Do you get hate on fics? Not hate but some people were unhappy with I crossed all the lines (linked above) because I left the couple non-monogamous and I got negative comments in the bookmark of my series Exposure (QAF) because it is similar to a friend's series (never mind me mentioning her by name in my author's notes and having her blessing and encouragement to write the series) and because it has an open ending (not with regards to the couple but with regards mental health stuff... which is realistic)

Do you write smut? Yes. I enjoy reading it so I figure I should write what I enjoy. One of the drawbacks of writing in a small fandom where so many of my readers are friends is that I do sometimes hold back on the smutty filth I would write because I can literally picture my readers' faces and that's a bit uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I'm writing a QAF / RPDR crossover fic right now ("writing" in the very loosest definition of the word).

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I would love that. What an honor.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Er. Yes. I wrote [redacted] with [redacted] but then [redacted] happened and yada yada yada my name isn't on that fic anymore. I'm not anti-co-writing. But, I would need to know my co-writer much better in advance if I were to agree to it again in the future.

All time favorite ship? Brian/Justin aka Britin from QAF. I also LOVE reading Aziraphale/Crowley from GO but haven't really written for them (one drabble and one ficlet).

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've Loved Her in Secret, I've Loved Her Out Loud WILL GET FINISHED (manifesting) soooo not that. And there's a CMBYN RPF fic that is unfinished and will remain that way and I'm okay with that (ie I don't want to finish it)

What are your writing strengths? FEELINGS. My bread and butter.

What are your writing weaknesses? I think I'm getting better at dialogue, I used to really struggle with it. So I'm going to say... plot? That's such a weird thing to say, but I am shit at doing complex plots.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If it makes sense, do it! Or even words in another language - I know I often slip Italian and Yiddish into conversation here and there if the other language captures a certain je ne sais quoi that english doesn't. (see what I did there?)

First fandom you wrote in? Ya girl was writing Lois/Clark | Superman fic (het fic? by this queer? more likely than you think!) for Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman in the 90s on yahoo listservs.

Favorite fic you've written? I'm very proud of you're like a tattoo (linked above). I'm also proud of beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies some post-canon, modern setting, exes-to-lovers, soft QAF goodness. And I'm also ridiculously happy with Chasing Dragons which is a fanfic of a fanfic but I think stands alone. I feel like I captured the way one of my all-time favorite fic writers writes my all-time favorite characters and I made her ridiculously happy with it and yeah.

I'm no pressure tagging: @sheisraging @bartbarthelme and anyone else who wants to!

[celestial-sapphicss]

bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme! (created by @fiercynn)

tagged by beloveds @nobodynobodyno & @cornflowershade & @solana-ceae thank you for tagging me this was so much fun! 🌹💖

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition!

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

im vi! i'm queer, 23, born & living in India, but brought up in south-east asia!

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

i saw the show as it aired but i joined the fandom (and tumblr) around ep3!

favorite ship(s)

PatPran (duh!), but also InkPa because they're such a good pair like how Pa is a badass but around Ink she just melts and gigges (both the jundapat siblings are the same skskks)

favorite character(s)

Pran. he is me, i am him. he is a feral, musky scented hoe and i love him.

favorite episode(s)

episode 4! first we got ink and pa projecting her crush pn pat! then we saw pran AND A LOT OF PINING AND JEALOUSY. my boy had gotten his hopes up and then absolutely shattered. we got "only i can have these super cute dimples" & "if you were ink, would you like me?" and that absolutely heartbreaking last scene <3

favorite scene(s) 

i mean there's the obvious ep5 4/4 fight followed by the best kiss in cinematic history. but also pat in the music shop discovering that he likes pran. and pat shouting his love to pran in the architecture faculty. and pat and pran's scene in the corridor with the guitar. and inkpa hotpot date and the photography room scene. the entire episode 8 & 11 (im cheating ik). i will keep on listing all the scenes if i don't stop.

one thing you would change about the show if you could

i wish there was just one discussion about wai being a dick to pran in ep8/9. like i wouldn't change what happened but like after all the dust had settled and all the friends were ok with patpran, i hope there was a discussion or even a mention of that wai apologised to pran somewhere behind the scenes and pran mentioned this to pat. (and i'm not sure if os2 counts but i would most def change ep3 of the crossover where they are just getting lost and screaming each others' names again and again sksksks)

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people

this is very unfair ok i love them all but here are a few

i'll just link all the fics here & the post i made about it some time back! (special mention to a soft boy in soft sweaters by @dimplesandfierceeyes)

the entire @badbuddyingifs blog

fanarts by @hereforlou (x) & @architectxengineer (x)

bad buddy costume colour theories by @dribs-and-drabbles

InkPa edits:

this edit by @pranink

this one by @akingyouniverse

episode 7 by @mantrisanu

developer stopper fixer by @oswlld

darkroom confessions by @forcebook

just the way you are by @snimeat

another darkroom edit by @chinzillas

FMVs

iris fmv by @prantically

enchanted fmv by @thranduel

patpran x zara zara fanvid by @prany

Quotes & Stuff

this cursed (affectionate set) by @guntapon

this quote that makes me cry everytime by @machikeita

yet another one of my fav quotes by @nanons

when we were younger by @alexshenry

you'll never be friends by @taeminie

myth by @tipsyjaehyun

love story by @fourthnattawat

another one by @freensrcha

v. imp kissing patpran set by @patspran

already home by @sunsetandthemoon

pran's life anthem by @morkofday

Character & Dynamics

pat-ink edit by @pranpats

pat saying ma ni by @casualavocados

best boy pat edit by @louwilliam

feral musky scented hoe pran by @seanwhites

best siblings by @ardentlytess

ink by @angelbesideme

Misc

page to screen series by @actually-yikes

inspired movie posters by @nanonkorapat

bad buddy rewatch series by @baifengxis

bbs2 by @dimpledpran

concept sets by @i-got-the-feels

episode 7 edit by @ayan-sukkhapisit

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

i did make some edits but my favourite one is the PatPran x Bollywood edit!

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol)

well obviously same page? by tilly birds. but also way too many taylor swift songs (seven, labrynth, gold rush, our song, the 1, betty, i think he knows, daylight, the great war, mine, enchanted), sleepwalker by julie byrne is so pran coded, home by reese lansangan, straberries & ciggarettes by troye sivan, i'm yours by alessia cara, doors by ben&ben etc. etc.

idk anything else you want us to know?

cursing your feed with this

tagging everyone i tagged above! (if you want) <3

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Matters of the Heart

Pairing: Best friend! Yeonjun x gn. reader

Genre: Fluff; Angst; Maybe eventual smut (I'm not sure about this, but if my bestie wants it, I might add I lmao)

Content Warnings: University au!; mutual pining; our main leads being stupid; I haven't planned smut for this one, but it might well turn suggestive

Word Count: 1.96k words 

Mellow speaks: The first part is here!!! I honestly can't believe I came up with this idea in a dream lol. I'm enjoying writing it, so I hope you guys look forward to more parts!! 

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod @yogurteume @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi @yogurteume @blahbluhblahbluh @yeonyeonyeonjun @yjs6x @silent--cry (this one's for you my love)

(Taglist is open!! Send in an ask/dm to be added, or simply comment under this post!)

Next》

You're back at last, and despite having had been away for months on end, it seems that the campus you had come to adore over your years as a student hasn't changed one bit during your absence. No, it's still the same, buzzing with people both known and new, some roaming across the gravel and others seated at the benches. The fro-yo shop at the left-hand corner catering to a whole line of of expectant customers, and the sound of Kai's voice, slightly off-note on purpose to "attract listeners" (his own words, not Taehyun's) filtering through the speakers and telling you it's time for the radio's afternoon show. Yeah, everything's the same, and boy are you glad to be back.

Don't get this twisted though. You were more than grateful for the opportunity of going to Australia for the exchange programme, and you're even more grateful as you think back to all the interesting stuff you learned and all the sweet memories you made during your stay. But that doesn't mean you didn't miss being back home in Seoul, didn't miss your weekly trips to the fro-yo counter just to get a student discount. Didn't miss seeing Beomgyu being weird in class, or didn't miss sipping on your latte with Taehyun while judging Soobin as he tried to ask his crush out (something he finally did manage to do while you were away, much to your dismay). 

And most of all, it definitely doesn't mean you didn't miss a certain someone, because you did. You did miss him, much more than you'd care to admit. The late-night and early morning video calls weren't nearly enough to fill the void that having to navigate your days without him had left inside your heart, and it's no lie that right now, you're counting down the minutes till you can meet him again. That's the thought you have in mind when Kai's voice breaks you out of it, a giggle to be heard from the tiny intercoms spread throughout the balconies and roofs of the buildings.

"You're favorite boy Kai is back!," his high-pitched tone carrying through the air as a groan from Taehyun follows soon after, their wordless banter making you let out a chuckle. "Some things never change," you mutter to yourself, tuning in to the news segment just so you know all the juice before stepping back into college life. But what you hear instead is nothing short of a scream of excitement, a gasp slipping past your lips at the suddenness. 

"Now as you all know, our lovely Y/N, the heart of our campus, has come back from her trip to Australia. And as her best friend, I think it's my duty to-," Kai says all to happily, only to be cut off by Taehyun's panicked voice as he says something that makes you raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I'm sorry for that Yeonjun. Everyone knows Y/N's your best friend, Kai was just being stupid. Ignore him,"his words bleed through, the mention of a particular name making your ears perk up. 

Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun, the clueless campus heartthrob and your best friend since first year of college. Despite being a year elder to you, his annoyingly adorable ways did help him wiggle into your life, and eventually, your heart. You hadn't planned for it to happen, but how could you not melt when he was always popping up by your side at random times, just to "steal you away" and take you to his spot, the small room on the rooftop which he claimed to have discovered. How could you not melt when he was always there to stop people from waking you up when you fell asleep in the library, threatening to blast them off to space if they ruined your nap.

Yet, all you had thought of it was a simple crush, confident that it would go away when you left for your programme. But as your eyes scan the grounds and halls for any signs of his mop of hair (which you know from all the selfies is blue now), you're not so sure anymore. Because how can you be when the past few months, the only thing that's been keeping the homesickness at bay has been his constant words of encouragement, his efforts to sneak in a "Good morning" and "Good night" every day without fail, despite it not being an obligation. 

Yeonjun has been nothing but supportive of your effort to broaden your horizons, and he's been telling you the same thing over every text message and through every video call, day in and day out. He didn't need to put it into words, it was plenty evident from the way he told you he said "I miss you" but never lingered on that thought too long, afraid of making you change your mind. And if you had expected the softness in your heart to go away as the skyline of South Korea had receded into the distance, his actions and gentle sure did prove you wrong. 

That's why, here you are now, letting your feet carry you through the corridors of the university, your eyes peeking into every nook and cranny in the hopes of discovering the person you're searching for. Your best friend, after all, is the person you want to meet first  "He was supposed to meet me near the archway," you mutter to yourself, shaking your head a little as you continue down the halls, turning up no luck in the cafeteria or even the dance room, the two places you know he loves the most. Except......

"Of course!," are your words at the very next moment, your hand flying to your forehead as you think of the one place he can be. Before you know it, you're jogging, your feet slapping against the hard ground as you make your way towards the gymnasium hall. Why, you ask? Because in case you've forgotten, that's the building whose top floor happens to be the home to the radio room, the place where you had, quite literally, run into a wall during your freshman year, on your way for an interview.  

The wall in question, rather obviously, was the toned chest of none other than Yeonjun, the hottie who was notorious for being absolutely in the dark about how he made head turns and hearts ache with a simple smile of his. That was your first meeting with him, but by no means did it become your last, the stars aligning in a way to orchestrate meeting after meeting. Soon enough, he was your co-host on the morning show, the sleepy expression on his face as he walked into the station with a boba in hand making your cheeks flush every morning. 

To put it short, it was bit too adorable for you to handle. His hair a little messy from the shower, and his cheeks still puffed-up from the late-night snacking, something he had told you quite early on was his favorite pastime. And that wasn't all he had told you either, his witty oneliners and quirky, completely random thoughts always managing to catch you off-guard as you got ready for another "Wakey wakey" over your mic. But your chemistry with him was undeniable, the Y/NJun duo quickly becoming a fan-favorite. And with that, blossomed the beginning of a beautiful friendship with the man you had affectionately come to call "Jjun." 

The rest, as they say, is history, your mind swimming with memories that threaten to make you smile and weep at the same time. "He must be in there," you think to yourself, turning the last corner between you and the gymnasium. But the very next moment, you're suddenly stopping, skidding your feet against the gravel as you let out a gasp. It takes you a minute to process the sight in front of you, your eyes scanning over the giant blue and pink banner that welcomes you back. 

That's not all that's waiting for you though, because right under the banner, stands a whole group of people, the figures of most of them rather easily discernable as they face away from you. That is, until one of them, one with a fading blue haircolor, starts to turn around, the smile that you've missed so much finally greeting you in the face. And then, you're running again, actually dashing this time, your form throwing itself at Yeonjun as your arms get wrapped around his shoulders, his own snaking around your waist. 

Next thing you know, he's lifting you up, laughs to be heard from everywhere around you as he spins you, his own laughter rumbling through his chest. It's in that moment that you notice the tears that are now streaming down your cheeks, the months of being away from him hitting you like a truck. Everything fades away into the wind, only Yeonjun and you being left behind, at least in your mind's eye. It's just the two of you, perfect like always, not needing anyone else.

When he puts you down, it's like you can't being yourself to tear your gaze away from his eyes, his head bent slightly as he looks down at you with the softest expression on his face. "Hi," is all you can say, finding yourself at a loss for words the longer you stare at him. It's hard to fathom that he's finally there, finally in front of you, and not just waving at you through a screen. This moment is perfect, and you don't want it to break. Ever. 

Except it does, a giant Soobin lurching in to steal you away, hugging you super tight and crying about how he missed you. It's not like you can bring yourself to be mad at him though, because you did miss him too. After that, it's an slew of hugs and kisses and shouts of "Welcome back." The kisses, of course, are from Beomgyu, your eyes voluntarily flicking over to the eldest among you to gauge his reaction. 

But he's not there, making your scrunch your brows in confusion for just a second until Taehyun pulls you to the side, complaining about everyone, especially Kai. And all you can do is laugh at that, your heart warming at getting back all the things you missed so dearly. It's mid-laughter that you hear Yeonjun's voice cut through the air, your head turning towards the sound as yet another gasp slips past your lips. A huge cake, bearing your face, is what greets you, a grinning Yeonjun looking at you expectantly. 

"Surprise," he whispers, smile widening as your eyes move from the cake to him and back. After what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to squeak out a "I- Jjun-," only to be cut off by a feminine voice. "It's so nice to meet you at last, Y/N," a girl comes into view, his voice warm and his smile friendly. But she's someone you don't recognize, aside from the fact that she seems a couple years younger. "I've heard so much about you from everyone, especially Yeonjun," she quips, sticking a hand out for you to shake.

But you only look at her in confusion, your face morphing into one of perplexity when she links her arm with Yeonjun. "Your Yeonjun," your mind says, though he's not really yours to keep. Not yet, anyway. Seeing you zoning out, your best friend is quick to spill out an introduction. "Y/N, meet Sara, a freshman and my-," he begins, but it's the girl next to him who completes the sentence, saying something that you're not sure you hear correctly.

"His girlfriend." 

Girlfriend. Yeonjun has a girlfriend. That's when it all comes crashing down. 

[chevvy-yates]

WIP WEDNESDAY WHENEVER

got tagged by @kdval thank you!

tagging: @gloryride, @elvenbeard, @pinkyjulien, @kittenchrissy, @dreamskug, @wraithsoutlaws, @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @alphanight-vp, @morganlefaye79, @peaches-n-screem, @wanderingaldecaldo, @genocidalfetus, @jaymber, @humberg, @therealnightcity, @streetkid-named-desire, @sammysilverdyne, @aggravateddurian, and @breezypunk as always, no pressure – also feel free to ignore.

—

GENERAL:

My gaming laptop is still on vacation sleeping since mid November '23 so I have still nothing new except the last remaining vp I want to post but hesitate for own reasons to click the 'post' button. It's a never ending fight I have to do with myself here …

Each weekend I tell myself I will update, but I do not 'feel' it – it's complicated. Guess something needs to happen that requires me to update first. Nontheless, I did not sit around doing nothing. Used the time for writing, thinking, graphic design and selecting songs.

I managed to post Ryder's two favorite radio stations last weekend:

I'll link the post here again in case you missed it and have interest to listen to it. A like/follow is appreciated, a.k.a. Ryder dankt! 🖤

I know not many like this genre he (and I) listens to but maybe at least the Technoise FM finds a way into someone's music heart. Music is very deeply connected to especially my boy Ryder but all of the boys as well (each their own style) and will show up even in the big story to support the written scenery/moments.

Speaking of the big story:

—

FANFICTION:

The story has a name now and will simply go by:

Cyberpunk 2078 – Pandemonium

I'm close to finish chapter 01: The Golden Demon of Kabuki of our (@nervouswizardcycle's and me) story. It needs a few vp pics to be redone and me to make a few adjustments and prepare the first post. Hopefully I get it done by the end of January.

QUESTION:

I don't know how many people might be interested in reading it but if you are, please leave me a comment in this post or send me a DM or contact me on Discord so I take note of it and will tag you once I start releasing chapters. It won't be weekly, neither monthly. I'm slow in writing and editing plus I do not do it alone as this story is still at first a role play between @nervouswizardcycle and me, I convert into better reading flow afterwards which takes a lot of time. So you won't receive notifications that often. But in this way you hopefully won't miss out on it when I post them.

HOW DOES IT LOOK?/WHERE CAN I READ IT?

I will not make a long text post here, neither put it on ao3 or any other fanfic site. Gonna make a picture post instead that adds maybe a little teaser text and then link it to an uploaded pdf that will be stored on my personal google drive. You can read it online or download and read whenever you like/find time! :3

WHAT IS IT ABOUT?

For those who do not know: It is set after the events of Cyberpunk 2077 and starts in January 2078. Arki, the main character, recovered from the game events (so he's V). All that happened in 2077 only set the ball for his story rolling so he's on his way to find out about his missing past. My boys who work together as a merc team (Vijay, Ryder, Hizumi in the beginning; Jay and Thyjs join later), happen to help Arki on his journey, he becomes a part of the team as well and together they find out things they never could have imagined and everything is connected. It might have the one or other flashback with Johnny in it as well as Arki used to be deeply connected with him and my boys two might get some. None of my boys is a V - even though Vijay goes with the name 'V' – and none of them knows the official npcs Arki has met except for: Jackie, Misty and Vic. They've heard (and maybe seen) of some famous names tho (e.g. Rogue, Kerry). It can happen we integrate a few other ocs that belong to friends/mutuals of us – either by just mentioning them, or they even might get their own appearance if managable to integrate – this is stil a tbd, tho and I will reach out and ask first ofc! I can definitely say @gloryride's Vanessa and Enzo will be mentioned/appear. Vanessa is part of V's and Ry's friend circle and their local fixer. She's also Ryder's neighbor in the Glen. Enzo is Jay's bf, so their names will definitely fall for sure. But as said I'll reach out and ask first if allowed and nothing is set in stone yet either as we are still at the start but have rough ideas that could be integrated.

BUT I ALREADY KNOW CHAPTER ONE AND TWO?!

There might be a few of you who remember the first versions of them, as about 1 1/2 years or so ago I posted them here as simple text posts but it was way shorter, less detailed. We've gone over some parts and it's definitely worth a new read now!

—

FURTHER PLANS/IDEAS?

too many to count, my list is neverending. I have not forgotten of my vp ideas but they are put on hold for a bit bc the story needs to be rolled out first or it will never happen.

I definitely want to redo the past looks of Ryder and Vijay (they will stay like they are, just a few details changed on them and their outfits) and add the ones of Jay and Thyjs as well.

And I want to focus on Jay's tattoos as they will change into the Japanese themed one done by Kala but I need to edit them a bit (thankfully it is allowed) with Glory's help so it fits to Jay. And hopefully we can solve the layer problem so his glowing tattoo still glows bc it is essential for the story xD

Alright, I'm done :)

[kigozula]

300th Chapter Celebration Weekend

All readers!!

We prepared a new fun event for Gladiator.

17th - 18th June

After 10 years we officially reach the 300th chapter. This event is not only to celebrate the 300th chapter, but also for appreciating and revisiting the second part of the story. The other two events from the past took place before part 2 even ended.

Below (under the cut) are different kind of questions. Most of them are part 2 focused.

If you want to partake in this event, all you have to do is answering the questions, choose and guess. The last part contains a guessing game and a quiz, which is new. This event is more expanded than the previous ones.

Feel free to reach my askbox or message me if you do have any questions. I will be posting my answers early that day or even one day prior. You can take a look if it might help you with ideas.

CHANGE: The correct answers of the quiz will be posted on Sunday before the event ends!

Doesn’t matter if you have a Tumblr account or not. Everybody can participate. You can post it on your blogs or submit it to me here. I will post it then.

Another change:

A friend just brought to my attention that tumblr does not allow people without an account to send asks or submissions anymore. I didn’t know that.

If anyone wants to take part, feel free to send your entries to my fanfiction account if you have an account there, I am also Kigozula there.

My account on FF. Net

If I had known this new policy I would have thought about something else... sorry guys. If you see this after this weekend, you can still send your entries ;)

Don’t forget to tag us @kigozula & @seyaryminamoto and use the tags #sokkla & #gladiator300thchapter (and any more you feel like). We can find the posts and try to reblog everyone’s entries.

We wish you fun and hope for many participants!

Important note: I am making something nice here. I talked with Seyary before starting this event. I made it for her, for readers to have a chance to share their favorite stuff and because I love Gladiator. Nobody has to take part. Please be respectful, careful and have fun! =) As mentioned above (askbox/pm), if there are questions.

FAVORITE…:

OC

Guard

Gladiator

Sponsor

Pair/Couple (besides Sokkla)

Friendship

Villain/Antagonist/Opponent

Suitor for Azula

Place (any houses/island/cities…)

Event (weddings/festivals…)

FAVORITE TOP THREE…:

Sokkla Kisses in Part 2 when they become finally a couple

Sokkla Love Making

THIS OR THAT:

Part 2, or Part 3 (so far)

Zuki Family or Mai Jian Family

Festivals Arc or Anniversary Arc

Captain Rui Shi or Captain Fei Li

Ozai or Zhao

Gladiator Brawl, Sponsor Race, Pairs Tournament or Scavenger Hunt

Xin Long or Appa

Azula’s Squad or Sokka’s Squad

Ty Lee or Mai

Shoji or Kino

Ruon Jian or Haru

OTHERS:

A Place you would like to visit or live

If you could give Part 2 a title it would be

Something you look forward to

Best Arc(s) in Part 3 (so far)

Favorite Sokkla Artwork from Part 2

GUESSING TIME:

Future Ships you think will happen

Azula and Zhao will divorce when/because of …

When Hakoda meets Azula and Hotaru for the first time …

When Ozai and Ursa see each other …

I think Ozai's future looks like...

When Azula finally visits the south pole, I hope/wish/think …

First things Azula and Sokka will do after their reunion

QUIZ: (The correct answers can be found in my post on June 16th)

Name of the first Gladiator Sokka fought against?

How many years are Azula and Sokka a couple now?

Which character found out about Azula and Sokka’s secret relationship first?

Which character felt something might be going on/will be going on between Sokka and Azula from the beginning?

What’s the name of Ozai’s first love?

What was the first Gladiator event Azula and Sokka took part in?

How often did the Blue Wolf fight in the Slate?

Who would have almost been the potential future prince?

How old was Aang when he was forced to freeze himself and Appa?

SOME NICE WORDS TO OUR DEAR AUTHOR SEYARYMINAMOTO:

[kaylalovesmaneskin]

The knife

A/n: hey loves I just wanted to tell y’all that I’m be doing a new thing we’re i post once a month Just because my personal life Is so busy that its also a lot because for my writers out there it takes a lot to write these stories but with out future do I’m stop taking up ur time and go and read. Tag list: @ellior1111 @tommy-lee-slash

Summary:you are Ethan childhood best friend and you didn’t know he was ghost face (it takes place in like a high school au)

Paring: Ethan Landry x Fem!reader

Warning:no nun really just some swearing and some knife play and teasing

You were Ethan childhood friend and he had some what of a crush on you but it was that big. It all happened on a Friday afternoon and you and Ethan were chilling at his house and he was being to quite and you took note to thats so you got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen to where he was and you jumped on top of the counter to sit there. “Hey Landry why are you so quiet come on talk to me what’s up you asked another girl out and she said no come on tell me something.” You said looking at him. “Hmm I’m sorry y/n I have just thinking about a lot.” (He’s thinking about his next victim) “shit don’t be sorry I was asking if your okay because you look like the fucking donkey from Disney what’s his name oh it’s Eeyore yeah you look just like him right now.” You said laughing and as you were laughing he smiled at your joke and he chuckled a bit. “Really y/n.” He said in a playful tone. “Yeah mhm mhm y’all are twinning.” And as you said that you guys began to talk about class and the horror movie because your favorite holiday was Halloween and Ethan knows that. “So like stab the movie I’m not gonna lie ghost face is so fine likeee.” “Y/n what the fuck.” Ethan said blushing. “What I’m just saying he can hit like how are you scary and sexy.” “So y/n your basically saying you would let a cold hearted killer fuck you.” He said tilling his head. “No but if he wasn’t crazy and killed people.” You said walking to the kitchen drawer and pulling out and knife and walking to Ethan. “Woah y/n what are you doing with that.” “Nothing calm down I’m not gonna hurt you just feel this.” You walked up to him pointing the knife at him and pushing him against the counter putting the knife to his chest and dragging it down his chest and he let out a little a little whimper that made you smile. “Y/n w-what are you doing.” “Shhhh just feel.” Taking the knife and bringing up to his face and dragging it down the side of his cheek then down his lips. After you had your some what fun teasing him you let go of him and went to put the knife away and then you grabbed him and pulled him to the couch so y’all can now watch a scary movie. As you two You lad up on top of each other his head in your lap and playing with his hair and you had a blanket on top of y’all you kissed him on his head and went to go back watching the movie and playing with his hair then the movie ended and y’all went to sleep on the couch him big spooning you.

THE END 🤭