#//sorry for the wait in replies I was so busy yesterday!

[just-kit-ink]

Ok your answers are AMAZING. They have catapulted me in a Smarty-Pop mood. I'm not feeling too good so I was gonna save reblogging them later. But I knew I had to send this ask in at least.

On the ball! I tried to Google venetian style costumes for Smartass to see what would fit him best. Assuming I git the right time period, I can see him wearing this! Except in his colors and without the mask (and wearing the diamond he may or may not have stolen from a king before Doom hired them all)

I mean, with how flamboyant his suit is in the movie, I can imagine how his ballroom outfit would look. Good luck getting the other weasels into something this formal, though XD

And Poppy!! She's not only more low-key in general, she also has been starting to get worried about people finding our her identity as the run away lady too (Kitty worrying about people finding out her real identity has made Poppy wonder her own safety as well). So she wouldn't go too all out for her dress. This image was the best example I could find of what I imagine her wearing. Just make the sleeves a bit longer and change the color to a more light dusty rose (she would have just gone for plain white, if she wasn't trying to catch someone's eye ;)). From afar it may look plain, but up close you'd be able to see all the work and talent that was put in the dress.

Instead of glitter/jewels though, I'm thinking Poppy would have sewn in a more floral pattern? Oh! Maybe even sewn in actual fake flowers in the neckline? Diamonds are more Smartass' thing anyway XD

Can you imagine these two on the dance floor??? He's like a peacock with his apparel, but she's just as stunning with her simple yet elegant look ^^

Ok now that we have clothes out of the way; I'm just imagining these two looking at each other across the ballroom and just being stunned by what they see. Especially Smartass. People move between them, but they only have eyes on each other. Like- like when Sarah and Jareth saw each other during As the Workd Falls Down. Except Smartass' jaw is dropping XD (not that Poppy is so calm herself. She's got nothing but the sounds of her internal screaming echoing in her mind while trying to keep a cool front XD)

I can see Poppy taking the initiative and making her way to him! Even while he's busy elbowing Greasy for his comment XD If Kitty can go dance with that duke, then she can go ask Smartass if he'd like to dance ^^ But then that stupid knight that has been harassing her this whole time comes over to her and stops her, talking about how beautiful she looks- for a peasent- and expects her to come dance with him. Poppy doesn't want to, of course. The only eyes she wanted on her tonight were the bandit leaders! But he keeps cutting her off, and even tried grabbing her hand when she tried to just slip away.

Smartass sees this when he's done berating Greasy, and storms on over. Not caring if anybody sees because he's had it up to here with that knight now. He might not even bother with words at this point, he's that ticked off. While the knight is recuperating, Smarty grabs Poppys hand, gently despite the hard look in his eyes, and then walks away from the scene, and his patrol position that Doom assigned him, with her. Maybe he asks her himself for a dance, to which Poppy would reply "Yes" all happily and relieved.

Maybe during the dance, they open their hearts to each other more than before. Like Poppy asks him if he could ever love someone who runs from their past, and he asks her why she's so nice even to a rotten bandit like him.

But yeah, that's what's been in my head ever since you answered my ask XD I wish so so badly I had the energy to write this out or could just draw it.

//I love every part of this! Smartass peacocking, Poppy's understated beauty, Kitty gaining confidence, the knight getting weasel-blocked! 😂 It's all so perfect!

And OOOOH that scene from Labyrinth is actually what I had in mind when I thought of Kitty in a dark fantasy AU! It fits Poppy too! Dark-haired maiden meets mysterious flamboyant man who's part of a magical world and seduces her even though he's on the corrupt end of the moral spectrum.

This is all really well thought out and yes, I am so imagining Smartass in that outfit!

[grimowled]

;ooc

[fakebwitch]

rafe finds your panties in his car [smut, jerking off, perv!rafe]

part two

you had an appointment to get your nails done, rafe was at an important business meeting and couldn't take you, since a friend of his was picking him up his car was in the garage, you asked him if you could use his car, and he said yes.

as you get back you parked the car in the garage, turned off the car while picked up the things you had left scattered around the car, putting them back in the bag, and that's where you had an idea.

you thought, rafe had let you use his car by paying for your new set of nails, you had to somehow thank him. a grin grew on your face as you rose slightly from the seat, your hands went under your skirt finding the elastic band of your panties, you grabbed it pushing it down and once you got to your ankles you pulled them completely off. your grin grew even more as you put the lace panties on the gearshift.

after completing your little work of art, you grabbed your purse and keys, opened the door and got out of the car, locking it. you made your way inside the house, the sound of your heels walking on the floor caught his attention.

"hey baby" he greeted you with a smile, getting up from the couch, "rafeyy" you said immediately running into his arms, he pulled you toward him grabbing you by the hips, 4 hours without seeing him was too much for your liking. "how did it go?" he asked with a smile at your clinginess as his hand gently stroked your back, "all good" you replied pulling away from him slightly with a smile, showing him your nails.

"they're perfect baby" he said as he looked at them carefully, he knew you didn’t play about your nails, "i know, aren't they?" you said with a smile turning your hand toward you, looking back at the design for the twentieth time.

you slipped your hand into your jacket pocket pulling out his car keys, "here they are" you said shaking them in front of his face, he grabbed them as you said "thank you so much baby, i love you" you said giving him a kiss, he smiled into the kiss as he whispered "i love you too".

as he deepened the kiss in your head you couldn't help but think of the little surprise you had left for him in the car, just waiting for him to find out. you knew very well that he loved your lingerie, one way or another he was always trying to steal some panties from you so he could keep them when, as he said, “he needed them," and you also knew what for.

the next morning rafe woke up early, he had to attend another business meeting. it was a stressful week, he was full of commitments regarding work finding himself having little time to spend with you. he grabbed the keys of his car as he yawned while heading to the garage, the phone rang in his pocket causing him to sigh as he rolled his eyes, he took it in his hands reading the name of the contact who was calling him, he sighed again deciding to answer it, it was one of the men he was in business with.

"hey, what's up?" said rafe trying to sound as unbothered as possible, the last thing he wanted to do right now was to have a call regarding the various problems that kept coming up. as the man took up the conversation, explaining that business would slow down for reasons he would list for him later, rafe opened the garage door, letting out occasionals little "mhm."

he pulled out his car keys, pressed the button and without looking inside the car opened the door and sat down. "yes, i was aware of that, i just talked to hollis about it yesterday and we both agreed that..." he froze when out of the corner of his eye he saw something white that caught his attention, he shifted his eyes to the mysterious object.

he took a deep breath realizing it was your underwear.

“rafe? are you still there?" the man's voice rang on the other side of the phone, rafe took a few more seconds to look at the piece of underwear and then answered, "y-yeah i'm here sorry, actually i'm kinda busy right now, i'm gonna call you when i'm free" he quickly came up with, wanting to end the call as soon as possible.

"oka-"

before the man could’ve finished rafe immediately hang up. his hands reached out to grab the garment, his fingers rubbed the lace. he looked at the inner part, that was in contact with your pussy, noticing a small wet spot, he didn't think about it for a second and brought the panty closer to his face, his nose made contact with the fabric, inhaling strongly as your smell flooded his nostrils. you just knew how to drive him crazy.

he couldn't help but think about being between your legs as he continued to breathe in your scent, making you feel good as your hands pushed him closer to your pussy, his cock twitching at the thought of having his lips on your wet folds.

as he kept the panties close to his face, with his free hand he quickly untied his belt, unbuttoned his pants pushing them down just enough along with his underwear to get his now semi-hard cock out. his head thought of your sweet taste, your little whimpers when he overstimulated you too much as your smell intoxicated his brain.

with his right hand he began to lightly rub his length, little sounds escaped his lips, muffled by the fabric of your panties. he went further as with his thumb he stroked the tip, pink and swollen, screaming to be inside you, his hand tightened even more around his shaft quickly rubbing the part just below the tip, it drove him crazy.

he kept rubbing as he imagined his hand was yours, little drops of pre cum were coming out of his tip, mixing with his rapidly working hands, creating obscene wet sounds.

his wrist beginning to ache, from how fast he was moving, as he lingered for a few seconds with his thumb, rubbing the tip. he was a mess of moans, his legs twitching as his breathing grew deeper and deeper, his body temperature now crazy.

he moved your panties away from his face and wrapped them around his cock as he resumed rubbing his hard cock with his hand, continuous whimpers escaped his lips as the lace rubbed against the delicate veins of his cock.

"fuuuuck" he breathed, he didn't think he could hold back much longer. he pushed his hips upward as his hand worked up and down his length, his head turned back as continuous moans mixed with cursing escaped his lips.

"h-holy shiit..." he murmured through clenched teeth, the rough fabric of the lace touching the soft tip of his cock made him shudder, his cock throbbing in his hands, eager to cum as soon as possible.

he was in pure ectasy, totally overwhelmed by the pleasure he was experiencing, the only image in his head at that moment was you, and you were helping him finish himself off. "oh y/n please..." he said almost crying, his voice cracked with pleasure as his hand moved even faster down the length, he hadn't even realized he had begged you when you weren't even there.

as his hand tightened around the tip, images of you filled his head, thinking about the way your eyes looked at him every time he thrust into you mercilessly, the way your tits bounced as his body slammed into yours, as his hand grabbed your neck making your eyes roll as he pushed you to the edge, that image was enough to make his cock cum.

"oh fuck me...." he managed to say as his hand moved slower, riding his high, moans and whining came from his lips as he pressed the tip making sure not a drop of his liquid was wasted.

half of it was on his hands, but most of it had ended up on your panties. he let go his grip on his cock, feeling overstimulated as he tried to catch his breath. realization hit him soon after, realizing the 'obscenity of the act he had just performed.

did he regret it? no. had it been one of the best handjobs? yes.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

[rainyreading]

Hey! I love your Theo fics and I was wondering if I could request a Theo x Hufflepuff, granddaughter of Newt Scamander reader? I think it could be cute!

Maybe he notices her one day minding her business, and one of his friends calls her weird for the same reasons Newt was called weird in school? Whatever you like! thank you!

Weird

Theo Nott x Hufflepuff!reader

wc: 950

a/n: Sorry this took so long! Hope it’s ok.

Requests open

Theo was in the library with his friends. He wasn’t doing any work of course because he was distracted talking with his friends. They were talking about the quidditch match that took place yesterday.

Theo quickly glanced around the library and his eyes landed on you. You were sitting there reading minding your own business. Theo thought you were pretty. He admired your beauty. He thought you were so cute and loved how you weren’t bothered by others.

Draco caught sight of Theo looking at you. He decided to speak up. “You know that’s Y/L/N, she’s weird. She talks to animals and what not. I’d stay away from her if I were you,” Draco warned.

“Maybe she’s just misunderstood,” Theo reasoned.

“Nah mate i’d listen to Draco, she’s a freak,” Blaise commented.

“You guys are mean,” Theo responded.

“Trust us, we would never steer you wrong,” Draco threw an arm around Theo.

“Ok ok I get it,” Theo put a stop to their conversation.

“We are just looking out for you,” Draco explained.

“Yeah yeah i know, let’s drop it please.” Theo grumbled.

Theo and his friends continued hanging out in the library for a little while longer. Theo however was busy thinking about you. He couldn’t get you off his mind. You intrigued him.

After Theo���s friends left he decided to go up and talk to you, despite what his friends told him. You were minding your own business, reading your book.

“Mind of I sit here?” Theo asked.

“Um sure go head,” you replied. You were shy and a little nervous but he seemed nice.

“You’re really pretty you know that,” Theo charmed.

You blushed at his words. You didn’t think anyone noticed you.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Theo,” he said with a smile.

“I’m Y/N.” You stuck your hand out for him to shake, which he did.

“I’ve seen you around school, I’ve always wanted to say hi,” Theo began.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was always too nervous, and now I just thought hey, it’s worth a shot.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” you answered.

“Me too.”

“So what are you reading?” Theo asked.

“Oh this? I’m just reading about the care of magical creatures.”

“Interesting!”

“Really? Cause I find it fascinating.”

And maybe it was the way your eyes lit up or the smile on your face but Theo could have sworn he died and gone to heaven. You were simply stunning and so lively. He liked to look at you when there was a spark of joy in you.

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like to have a picnic at the black lake with me tomorrow?” Theo requested.

“I’d love too!”

“Great!”

——————

Tomorrow came fast. Theo couldn’t wait he was so excited to see you again. He planned out the whole thing. He brought a ton of food and he even got you flowers.

When you arrived at the black lake Theo gave you the flowers.

“These are beautiful, thank you!”

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, and Theo started to serve the food. What Theo’s friends might think if they saw him here with you was in the back of his mind, but he tried to ignore it and enjoy this time with you.

“Anything for you.”

You smiled at him, feeling really good about going out with Theo. He seemed really nice and you were excited to get to know him.

After the both of you ate you decided to just enjoy each other’s presence and talk.

“So what do you do on days you don’t have class?” Theo asked.

“Well I like to read, sometimes I go on walks around the castle. Then there’s spending time with my cat. I also like to draw. What about you?” You answered.

“That’s interesting! I usually hang out with my friends. I’d love to see your drawings sometime!”

“Really? I’m not that good,” you shrugged.

“I bet you are,” Theo implied.

You smiled at him. “Maybe someday.”

“What do you read about?”

“Mostly animals.”

“You really like animals don’t you.”

“Well my grandfather is Newt Scamander.”

“Really? No way.” Theo was impressed.

“Yep.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Hahaha.”

“Have you ever gone swimming in the black lake?” Theo asked.

“No I haven’t,” you replied.

“Do you want to swim with me?” Theo grinned.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Come on,” Theo said lifting his shirt over his head.

You laughed at him. You were a little shy but you quickly stripped down to your underwear, ripping it off like a bandaid.

Theo did his best to avert his eyes from your body. You were breathtaking and he just couldn’t help it.

“Last one in is a sweaty oaf.” Theo called out.

You squealed as you jumped into the lake. The water was cold and it felt refreshing. You swam over to Theo.

Theo watched as droplets of water fell from your lashes. Theo went and held your waist.

“Is this ok?” Theo asked.

You nodded.

One hand came and brushed your hair out of you face then rested on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You replied.

Theo placed his lips on yours in a heated kiss. His mouth explored yours. Your lips were moving in sync. When the need for air became to strong you pulled away.

“You are a really good kisser,” Theo complemented.

You giggled, “Thank you.”

Theo was quickly falling in love, and he didn’t even know it yet. The last thing on his mind was what his friends would think. He couldn’t care less about their opinion because he found someone he enjoyed spending time with.

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[jjkamochoso]

so like yesterday I went to a strawberry farm were you like pick strawberries and I was thinking how would the jjk men act or like what would they do. sorry if it's a dumb question😭

There is absolutely nothing dumb about this, it’s freaking adorable😭😭 thank you for entrusting me with this!! I hope you had lots of fun picking strawberries 🍓 and I hope you enjoy reading about picking strawberries with these silly lil men☺️🫶

Picking Strawberries with the JJK Men

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: small mentions of bugs/insects

Yuji:

You and Yuji walked along the path, admiring the glow of the red berries surrounding you.

“This one looks really good,” Yuji said, bending over to pick a particularly plump strawberry. He grasped the stem and held it to your lips.

“Try it!” he encouraged, and you happily obliged, taking a big bite.

“That’s seriously delicious,” you complimented after eating the fruit. "Now let me find one for you."

You walked hand in hand with Yuji, scouring the ground until the perfect berry caught your attention. You held the stem while offering the rest to him, just like he had done for you. Yuji, being the menace he is, ate the whole thing in one swift bite.

“Is it yummy?" you asked, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

"It's delicious!" Yuji exclaimed, mouth full of half chewed strawberry. You wanted to be grossed out but the delight in his eyes was too adorable for you to think about how nasty it was that he was talking with his mouth full. He swallowed the fruit with a gulp, then wrapped you in a big bear hug.

"The strawberry was sweet, but you're sweeter."

Megumi:

“I really should’ve thought this through.”

You realized you ran out of hands when you went to pick a strawberry but couldn’t due to your grasp being occupied by both a basket and an umbrella to keep the sun from burning you. You switched gears, putting the basket on the ground and pulling strawberries from your now free hand, but the umbrella kept falling every which way. Megumi, meanwhile, was watching all of this unfold and trying his hardest not to laugh at your predicament.

“Here, let me help you,” he eventually said after watching you struggle for a bit. He was waiting to see if you were going to come up with a solution yourself but it certainly wasn’t happening any time soon and he didn’t want you to get too frustrated (no matter how cute he thinks you look when you’re grumpy). Megumi took the umbrella from your flailing hands and immediately you no longer felt like throwing it in a fit of rage.

“You’re a real lifesaver,” you said, getting an eye roll as a reply.

“That was too painful to keep watching without doing something.”

You narrowed your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him, going back to your berry picking. It was much easier now that Megumi strolled alongside you, one hand in his pocket and the other tightly wrapped around your umbrella, basking you in cool shade. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he was beyond relieved he could assist you, no matter how insignificant of a task.

Yuta:

You and Yuta happily strode along the strawberry bushes, hand in hand, and picking the ripest fruit to bring back home. Being ever the gentleman, Yuta held the heavy basket in his free hand while you were in charge of selecting the berries.

“This is, by far, the cutest date I’ve ever been on,” you confessed, a strawberry dangling by its stem in your grasp.

“O-oh, really? I’m really glad you’re having fun,” Yuta replied, a blush blooming on his face.

“Whats wrong, Yuta? You’re almost as red as this berry,” you teased with a giggle, taking a big bite of the fruit you picked a few seconds ago. That made the poor boy blush even more as he imagined what those plump lips of yours would feel like on his own rather than the strawberry.

“Yuta? Are you in there?” you asked. You had been waving your hand in front of his face but he was too busy staring at you to respond until now as he stuttered out an apology.

“It’s all good,” you told him, “you’re cute when you’re spaced out. My offer still stands if you want a bite of this strawberry though since you were practically gawking at it.”

“Yes! Right. The strawberry,” he stammered, “that’s exactly what I was looking at. You’re so right, it looks really good. Thank you.”

You held out the strawberry in question to feed it to him and Yuta felt his heart leap out of his chest—how did he get so lucky to date someone as sweet as you?

Inumaki:

“Strawberry.”

Your jaw dropped at the surprise introduction of a new word into your boyfriend’s vocabulary. You two decided to go on a date at a strawberry farm but the last thing you expected from today was to see Toge enthusiastically pointing his finger back and forth from you to the berries while repeating the word like some sort of incantation.

“I have a feeling you’re making a really good connection between these things but I don’t understand it,” you said tentatively, taking note of the giddiness that shone in Toge’s purple eyes. He quickly pulled out his phone, furiously typing out something in his notes app. When he showed you his screen, you felt like drowning the earth beneath your feet in tears:

Strawberry!! I can say it without hurting you!! That’s gonna be reserved for you only :)

“Toge,” you half whispered, your voice failing you from the love that was overwhelming you, “that means the world to me. Thank you.”

“Salmon,” he said, meaning “you’re welcome.” He then pulled you into a tight hug to show you how much he cared when words failed him. When you pulled apart, he showed you his phone screen one more time:

Also you’re both very sweet <3

Noritoshi:

It was nice to get away from all the hustle and bustle of your daily duties with your boyfriend Noritoshi. You knew he put a lot of pressure on himself 24/7 to be perfect in all facets of his life so you figured getting away to somewhere quiet and calm would do wonders for his mental health. Thankfully, you were correct. You’d never seen Noritoshi as relaxed as he was amongst the strawberries, softly smiling as he watched a bug climb along a vine. He leaned in closer to get a better view of nature at its core, deeply appreciating the simplicity of the outdoors.

“Y/n, look. It’s a ladybug,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb it. You scooted in closer as well to catch a glimpse but were quickly taken aback when the insect flew off the vine and landed on Noritoshi’s nose. He was extremely calm about the whole ordeal and you were delighted to see such an adorable scene unfold in front of you. His gray eyes were slightly crossed as he watched the ladybug in amusement, its speckled body tickling his smooth skin. As it started heading up his nose and toward his eyes, he put his finger out to block it, guiding the plump bug onto his outstretched digit.

“You know that means you’re going to be blessed with an abundance of luck, right?” you asked, heart instantly melting at the gentle gaze he held you under.

“With you in my life, I already knew I was the luckiest man alive.”

Todo:

You never knew what to expect from your boyfriend on a day to day basis so when he started spouting strawberry facts at you while you explored the grounds of the farm, you couldn’t say you were surprised.

“…strawberries today are a result of the cross between F. chiloensis and F. virginiana. Did you know strawberries are a type of rose? And they have more vitamin C than oranges.”

You listened intently to Aoi’s rambling, his arm slung easily over your shoulder in a display of his affection toward you. You were looking at him like he was speaking about the most important topic in the world and you were so proud of the fact that he was subverting expectations, being extremely strong and smart.

“Wow, Aoi, you’re so knowledgeable!” you exclaimed, “how did you learn all this?”

He just shrugged, shooting you a wink. “I’ll tell you if you let me walk you back home after this.”

You playfully nudged him on the shoulder. “We’re going back to the same place, dummy.”

A look of realization dawned on his face, replacing a concerning amount of shock. “You’re right, we are! I forgot!”

You grimaced, trying not to outwardly groan for the sake of being a patient partner.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome. Let’s just enjoy some strawberries, yeah?”

Aoi let out a triumphant laugh after kissing your cheek. “Sounds good to me!”

Ino:

Going to the strawberry farm with Ino was nothing short of a good time. You spent hours collecting only the finest berries, carting around heavy baskets and dreaming up all types of desserts you’d be making with your haul. You also spent a good chunk of that time eating the berries right off the vine and making each other share in the disgust of any surprisingly unripe berries you pulled.

“Babe! Here, this one’s straight up disgusting,” Ino said, thrusting a strawberry with a big bite chunk out of it your way. You took a bite and immediately made a face.

“Ew! That one was nasty! And to think it looked so good, too,” you whined, glaring at the rest of the deceptive glowing red skin.

“You wanna wash it down with a milkshake? They’re selling them at the front.”

“Please,” you said, nodding eagerly. Ino lazily threw his arm over your shoulder and you scooted in closer to your boyfriend as he guided you to a much needed sweet drink.

Gojo:

Satoru was watching you sit next to a strawberry plant with inquisitive eyes, his signature blindfold gone and in its place were sunglasses that reminded you of his yesteryears.

“I still don’t get why we have to pick the strawberries ourselves when we could’ve just gone to the store,” he questioned, bottom lip jutted in a pout.

“Because Satoru,” you said, giving him a kind smile, “it’s good to support local farms. And don’t you feel a sense of accomplishment picking them yourself rather than grabbing the first plastic container you see at a store?”

“I guess,” he said, reaching down to pick a strawberry off its plant before quickly retracting his hand. “The farmers should’ve cleaned up a bit before I came, though. The bugs and dirt are seriously grossing me out.”

The urge to roll your eyes was strong, but the love you had for Satoru was stronger so you refrained.

“Come over here and try this one. I made sure there weren’t any creepy crawlies on it that were out to get you.”

The white haired man didn’t pick up on your teasing, instead sending a solemn “thanks” your way. His long fingers hesitantly plucked a big, red strawberry from the vine.

“Go ahead, taste it,” you encouraged.

He did so, a look of pride overtaking his features.

“This is literally the best strawberry ever.”

“Wait, don’t eat the whole thing! I wanna try some,” you said. Your boyfriend extended a hand, helping you up from your place in the plants.

“I feel like a strawberry being pulled off the vine,” you joked, wiping the dirt off your pants.

“I really do know how to pick ‘em,” Satoru said, smirking.

Geto:

Suguru was the perfect man to take strawberry picking. He was in awe of the tranquility he felt somewhere like that, the peaceful atmosphere doing more to ground him than most anything he’d tried before. He eagerly picked two strawberries, feeding you one then taking a bite from the other for himself.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, brown eyes gazing lovingly into your own as the sun shone brightly over the two of you.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, my love,” you replied, your hand gently placed on his cheek. He nuzzled into your touch the slightest bit, not caring if any passerbys took notice of you. He could smell the sweet scent of strawberry on your breath as you closed in toward him, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. You didn’t want to be indecent in public so you kept it chaste and though Suguru desperately wanted to kiss you passionately enough to make parents cover their children’s eyes (and maybe even their own), he showed restraint. When he eventually pulled away from your kiss, he took hold of your hand that laid on his cheek and placed little kisses on the pads of each finger—also smelling of the red berries you had spent hours hanging around.

Nanami:

When you told Kento you were in the mood to make a strawberry pie, but had no berries, he was quick to come up with the idea to pick fresh ones from the local farm. Now, here you were, baskets in hand, weaving through patches of ripe fruit.

"How's it going, Kento?"

"Well. I have about half a basket full. How about you, my love?"

He never failed to make your heart flutter with his sweet pet names and the syrupy way they fall off his tongue.

"About the same. I'm going to get a few more and then we should be done."

You bent down to gather more strawberries when a gust of wind suddenly picked up, taking your sunhat right from your head. You barely had time to react before it was placed gently back in its rightful place by none other than your boyfriend.

"Oh, Kento, thank you! That's my favorite hat, I would've been so sad if I lost it."

"Then it's a good thing I'd do anything to keep you happy, darling," Kento replied, a soft smile on his lips as he gazed at you like you were the sun and he was a berry plant, relishing in your warmth.

Choso:

Choso couldn’t contain the huge smile that appeared on his face when he saw the strawberry fields for the first time. It reminded him of the bygone era where many were farmers, a time that he and his brothers were born in but never got to experience outside of their glass cases.

“People still farm?” he asked, his voice laced with amazement and his brown eyes glossing over the never ending rows of ripe fruit in front of you.

“Yep! Isn’t so neat how much society has changed over a hundred and fifty years, yet stayed the same?” you questioned, Choso nodding in a quiet bout of deep thought. You grabbed a few baskets and began filling them with berries, working diligently in comfortable silence.

“We should grow a garden,” Choso eventually piped up, taking a bite from a strawberry he couldn’t resist the temptation of.

You felt a smile settle on your own face. “Really? You’d want to do that with me?”

“Of course. I’d much rather go out to my yard than a store for fruits,” he replied, taking a break from berry gathering to look you deeply in your eyes, “and there’s symbolism in the whole thing, too. What’s mine is yours, cultivating life together… it’s all strangely…” He faltered.

“Domestic.”

“Domestic. Exactly.” He reached for your hand and you gladly let him take it, fresh strawberry juice from his fingers leaving a bright red stain on your skin.

Toji:

The sun was beating down on you and you were exhausted after a long day of strawberry picking. Taking a seat on the ground, you felt relief flow through your legs as you gave them a rest.

“You’re getting absolutely filthy,” said Toji, scrunching his face as he looked at you with something akin to disgust. “Get up. You’re not a baby.”

“I’m your baby,” you teased, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend. “Besides, I’m tired and it’s a long walk back to the car. It’s either this or you carry me back.”

With one fell swoop, you were off the ground and in the strong arms of the muscled man.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Toji grumbled, but he wasn't the least bit upset at having you so close to him.

“I do,” you said, cheekily planting a kiss on his exposed bicep.

[drivestraight]

wildcard!!! I know that you are more focused on writing works centering max, lando and oscar. I wonder if there is any chance you will write about lestappen again in near future. I just love your lestappen works so much and I'm sorry if this question makes you feel uncomfortable 🥺🥺

from here

near future no, but here’s about 5k of my abandoned (little brother of the) prince of monaco charles x driver max wip ❤️ as a gift

The Guardian is first in the round of interviews. A woman named Marie sits across from the sofa, beside cameras, light panels, and mics.

“To start,” Marie says, donning a sympathetic smile. Max struggles to take her at face value. “I want to acknowledge that I’m sure this isn’t how either of you would have liked your relationship to come out. How are you two doing?”

Max tries his hardest to keep a neutral expression. He scowled his way through the hours of media prep yesterday and got scolded each time.

He shifts on the sofa. For a couch made for royalty, it is not very comfortable.

Of course, it comes much easier to Charles, who returns a warm smile. He keeps his eyes on Marie, but places a hand on Max’s thigh, to comfort him. God, everyone’s going to love this, aren’t they?

Horribly, the physicality does help. Max takes a deep breath.

“You’re right,” Charles responds. “It is not at all ideal, but we are thankful for all of the grace that has been extended to us these past few days.”

Max purses his mouth.

Marie glances at him, waiting for agreement. Instead, Max busies himself with studying the details of the room they’re in. The Salle Des Gardes: cobalt walls, beautiful flower bouquets, and centuries-old portraits framed with gold. It’s so beautiful it makes Max uncomfortable.

At his silence, Marie moves on, smiles, and says, “Well, it’s great to have you both here.”

“Yes,” Charles says, “it is. Right Max?” he probes, squeezing Max’s thigh.

Somehow, Max manages not to glare. He clears his throat and manages to hum in concurrence.

“So,” Marie says, “I guess we can start from the beginning. I’m sure everyone would like to know how you two met.”

Max is grateful at how quickly Charles jumps to respond, “I have been a big fan of F1 ever since I was a child,” he replies, “but I did not meet Max personally until the Monaco Grand Prix in 2021.”

“On the podium?”

It was collateral damage, really, Max’s champagne spray getting all over Charles during the celebration. Max hadn’t even known, until Charles told him many months later.

Charles nods. “Yes, on the podium. A little after the race, he was invited to dine with my family, as the winners always are, and we… liked each other. We got on very well that night.”

Yes, Max thinks. We talked, we ate, we drank, we got into a huge fight about Ferrari, we got kicked out of the venue hall, then we hooked up in the toilets upstairs.

Sure, they got on well that night.

“We started seeing each other quite a bit, after,” Charles finishes.

They saved each other’s numbers, and every now and then, between Max’s races and between Charles’ royal obligations, they’d meet up in Monaco.

“Who asked who out?”

Charles turns his head and looks at Max, expectantly.

Max glares, but Charles only lifts a brow, unwavering. “I did, I guess,” Max concedes, trying not to roll his eyes at the way Charles glows, dimples pressed deep into his cheeks.

In a way it’s true. Max had been the one to shove Charles up against a wall and kiss him, drunkenly and furiously.

For the next two years, it was easy, despite who they were, perhaps because of who they were. They were on the same page about what it was they had: purely an arrangement of convenience. Entirely physical, no-strings attached. They’d meet in Max’s flat, maybe have a drink and talk about the most recent race, and get to it. After, Max would let Charles use his shower, then Charles would leave. Not once would Charles ever sleep over.

Still, they were exclusive, in a way. Max found something good, something safe, something easy, with someone who was on the same page as him. They were physically compatible. They wanted the same things from each other. Max didn’t see a need to look elsewhere, and neither did Charles.

Max had no interest in making it any more than it was. Neither did Charles.

For two years, it was simple like that. Max bribed his doorman, and Charles swore his security detail to secrecy. Charles hadn’t told anyone about Max. Max hadn’t told anyone about Charles. No one needed to know. What was there to tell? The F1 world champion and the Prince of Monaco’s little brother were friends with benefits? They were barely friends.

“Yeah?” Marie asks, looking surprised. “What was it about Charles that interested you?”

Charles’ expression is rapt and curious, his focus singularly on Max now.

Well, Max thinks. If they want him to speak from his heart, that’s what he’ll do.

“Of course,” Max says, smiling for the first time since the news broke, “it was not his personality.”

Marie laughs, amused. Charles makes an unbecoming noise, his entire face scrunching up.

“Max!” he squawks, outraged.

“What?” Max asks innocently, tipping his head to the side. He is starting to have a little fun. He finds Charles’ hand on his thigh, lays his over his knuckles, his thumb brushing at his wrist. “I thought we were of course wanting to be honest today. Your personality is not the first thing people notice about you.”

Annoyed, Charles purses his lips. “And what is?”

Max hums in faux contemplation. “Your face, of course.”

Charles’ brows knit together. Max relishes in the fact that Charles is the one on his toes this time. “You only like me for my face?”

Rolling his eyes, Max says, “It is the only good part about you.”

Charles squints, licks his lips, and levels Max with a look. Max knows that look: he is thinking, planning. 

It is pin-drop silent for a short moment. Suddenly, the room feels very small.

Charles leans in closer, marginally, but enough that Max’s breath hitches, and slides his hand higher up, his fingers firm against the inside of Max’s thigh. “Really? None of the other parts you like?” 

Max lets his eyes wander: from the mole on Charles’ cheek to the one on his neck, from the dip of his Cupid’s bow to the stubble on his chin. It is distracting and it is unfair, how beautiful Charles is.

“Really,” Max says, gaze returning to Charles’ eyes. He will hold his ground, even if he doesn’t mean it. “None of it.”

/

Thirty minutes later, Marie and all the cameramen leave. They are given half an hour in private to rest before their next interview. Le Parisien this time. At least then, he thinks, they’ll be more significantly more interested in Charles than they will be for him.

Even though they’re technically free now, the palace made it clear that they are not to leave this room until they’ve finished the last interview.

Once the doors shut and they are alone, Charles turns and glares at him.

Since the news broke yesterday morning, this is the first time they’ve truly been alone.

“Your team will not be happy with that. You saying you like me only for my face.”

Of course that’s what Charles will take from the interview. After Marie asked all her questions about the genesis of their relationship, her questions pivoted to Max, about what it means for him to be the first openly gay Formula 1 driver in decades.

Each time he was asked a question, Charles squeezed his knee, running circles with his thumb. 

Max hadn’t met with his PR team beforehand—Monaco’s royalty took priority, monopolized him and all of yesterday. He had no idea what Red Bull wanted him to say, what the optics were, so he spoke from the heart.

His answers were simple: it means nothing to him. It means nothing to what he has achieved. He never wanted to be an inspiration. An icon. An idol. If he is, then he is, but that was never his intention, that was never his goal.

Nothing changes.

“Obviously, I was joking,” Max mumbles, standing up and pacing around in front of the sofa. There’s a whole table filled with refreshments, and Max is hungry—he’s always hungry—but the season is in full swing, and he needs to keep his weight down. He wishes they had Red Bull or something, but they only have tea and coffee. He settles for shoving his hands into the dress slacks he was forced into, pressing the tip of his Oxford shoe against the border of the carpet. “And I do not think your team will be very happy with you feeling me up on camera.”

Charles huffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. “I had to make it seem like we like each other, after what you said.”

Max scoffs and sits back down on the couch, toying with the seam of the green plush pillow beside him. “I think everyone is pretty convinced that we like each other,” he mutters, and then, mortifyingly, his stomach growls. Loudly. It’s the afternoon now, and he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.

And Charles stands all of a sudden. Max watches, confused, as Charles makes a beeline to the table of refreshments, shoes clacking against the hardwood until he reaches carpet. There is a way about how Charles moves, magnetic to the eyes. He grabs a small scone, then heads back to Max.

Closer and closer, until he’s settled between Max’s spread thighs, towering over him.

Bossily, he shoves the scone in front of Max’s face. “Eat. We have a long day.”

Max sighs. He’s explained this to Charles before, his diet. “Charles,” he says, hoping that’s enough, not wanting to give the whole spiel again.

“It is a royal order,” Charles says seriously. He presses the scone against Max’s mouth.

Max angles his head away. “I am Dutch, if you didn’t know.”

“You live in Monaco,” Charles insists, “and I am the Prince.”

Max snorts. “You are the little brother of the Prince.”

In lieu of a verbal response, Charles sighs and places his hand on Max’s cheek, leveling Max with a look, that same one from before. His palm is soft, smooth, but his thumb is firm where it presses against the seam of Max’s lips, coaxing his mouth open. The ball drops; the rally ends. At the end of the day, Max is starving. He cuts his losses and bites, gaze fixed on Charles as he chews on the stupid scone. Once he’s swallowed, he expects Charles to let up, but Charles raises a brow, pressing the scone against Max’s lips again. Max groans, understanding, and takes another bite, and another, and just as he’s about to finish the scone, Charles quickly pulls it back, and eats the last bite himself.

Max rolls his eyes. Of course. Charles giggles, and wipes off a crumb from the corner of Max’s lip. Even when Max’s face is clean, Charles keeps his hand on Max’s cheek, smoothing out his frown.

They linger like this for a few moments, and Max feels the anxiety leftover from the interview start to dissipate, his shoulders laxing.

“I know you did not want this,” Charles says quietly. “I did not want it either.” Max swallows, his chest feeling tight. “But it’s like this, and we have to do it together. If it is to work, we have to make it look real.”

“I know,” Max says, starting to feel bad. Charles got fucked over with all of this too. Today, Charles is more calm, more���present, than he was yesterday, a quiet wreck in the briefing. His mental resiliance really is something. He places a hand on Charles’ waist, pulling him in closer. “I was of course there in the briefings.”

Charles pokes harshly at Max’s cheek, like he is trying to sculpt an artificial dimple. “I do not think you were listening.”

Max closes his thighs around Charles’ legs. He is very warm, and they have half an hour before the next interview. Hm. They might as well spend it wisely.

“Can you read my mind now? Is that another one of Prince Charles’ royal powers?”

Before Charles can respond, Max tightens his grip on his waist, before sliding his hand lower, to grab at Charles’ ass. Charles’ eyes widen, his mouth parts in surprise, and he sucks in a gasp.

“Max,” he whispers, blushing a soft pink. His hand drops to Max’s shoulder to steady himself.

“We of course have time,” Max points out, bringing his other hand to Charles’ other cheek, tugging him closer through the fabric of his slacks. “And we have a long day.”

It’s been months since the last time they did this. Not since before winter testing.

Max only now realizes how much he’s missed it.

“Not here,” Charles mumbles shyly, looking around, as if there’s anyone else here. Despite his protests, he doesn’t make any effort to fight Max’s hold.

Maybe, Max thinks, Charles misses it too.

“Why not?” Max asks. “Do you not like being watched by the portraits? They are your ancestors, right? I don’t think they’d mind.”

Charles sighs, but Max catches a small smile on his face. Regardless, Charles shakes his head, stubborn. “It is not the portraits I am worried about. What if someone comes in?”

“It will be their fault for not knocking,” Max snorts. At Charles’ withering glare, he sighs and says, “No one’s going to come in. There are guards outside.”

“Still,” Charles argues, pink all the way up to his ears now. His eyes drop to Max’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “We will be… messy for our interview.”

“But it will seem like we really like each other a lot,” Max jokes, grinning.

Charles doesn’t take the joke well. He pouts and pinches Max’s ear with his fingernails. Max laughs and releases Charles’ ass. “Fine, fine,” he concedes. “At least come here?”

Charles pulls his mouth to the side. “Will you behave?”

Max shows Charles his palms, hands positioned before his chest. “I will behave,” he assures.

Charles shoots him one last look, before sighing and climbing up onto the sofa, knees on either side of Max’s lap, and sitting. Immediately, he buries his face in the side of Max’s neck, his hair tickling Max’s ear, and lets out a contented noise.

Max barely got any sleep last night, all wired up, and from how exhausted Charles looks—feels, melting into him, breathing softly, maybe the first moment of silence he’s had all day—he can tell it must have been the same for him.

For a few minutes, they stay like that. Max closes his eyes, stroking Charles’ back. There are too many layers between them. Max kind of wishes he took his suit jacket off, or at least his tie, before he asked Charles to sit on his lap. Too late now, Max thinks, nosing at the spot below Charles’ ear. He notices, in this time, that Charles must be wearing a new cologne. It is nice; he smells nice. Charles always smells nice.

Max presses a harmless kiss on the side of Charles’ neck. Then another and another, until no space is left unkissed. He moves to the center of Charles’ throat, and Charles lets it happen, lets Max pepper small kisses along the ridges, his mouth closing, softly, over his carotid, Charles’ heart pulsing like a rabbit between Max’s lips. Charles likes that: the little kisses. When Max reaches the cut of his jaw, he starts to be a bit more bold with it—licking and biting gently, Charles’ stubble rough against his tongue, tracing the contours of him.

Charles starts to let out little pants, his hips starting to roll ever-so-slightly. Max slides a hand between their chests, what little space is left between them, and finds Charles’ crotch, gently palming over the bulge. He’s half-hard already. Max hums, pleased.

Finally, he makes the move and makes it stick: firmly, he kisses Charles, right on the lips. It is a tender kiss, but deep and filled with intent. No more pretense.

Breathily, Charles mumbles against his mouth, “This is not behaving.” He sounds annoyed, but he keeps kissing Max back, keeps grinding his ass on top of Max’s crotch.

Max pulls away, laughing when Charles immediately chases his mouth and makes an unhappy, surprised noise, laughing when he opens his eyes and sees Charles’ eyes: dark, pupils wide and wanting.

“Okay,” he says, voice a little raspy, even to his own ears. “We can stop.”

Charles’ jaw drops. Outrage is a cute look on him. “Oh,” he says, brows furrowing, exhaling through his nose, “you are—”

He doesn’t finish. He only shakes his head, grabs Max’s face with both his hands, firmly, and kisses him, furiously.

Charles’ mouth is soft and plush, but his kiss has a fire to them, an intensity; this part has always been the easiest, with him. The physicality. Everything else, that’s the difficulty.

Their noses brush, and Max pivots away, only slightly, to kiss at the corner of Charles’ mouth, light and teasing. “Yeah? What am I?”

Charles finds his lips again, positions Max’s head right back where it was, and plants a kiss square on his mouth. “Horrible,” Charles says, and kisses Max again. “Annoying,” he says, and kisses Max again. “The worst,” he says, and kisses Max again.

“Don’t let anyone hear you say that, of course,” Max says, helping Charles take his suit jacket off. “We have to seem like we like each other.”

Charles doesn’t deign him with a response, merely rolls his eyes and tosses the jacket to the side. He is gorgeous like this: eyes blown and glossy, his mouth parted, wet, begging to be kissed.

So Max kisses him again, his hands rucking Charles’ button-up from his slacks, until he can slip his hands under the fabric, finding his waist. He uses this newfound leverage to flip their positions, to maneuver Charles so that he’s on his back and horizontal on the ugly, uncomfortable sofa. Charles yelps; his chest heaves, and his throat bobs. He is so pretty like this: in the painfully bright light of this room, it is even more vivid, and for the first time since the news broke yesterday, Max thinks, maybe this will be worth it.

Max takes the moment to burn the sight of him into his retinas: his mousy hair messy around his head like a halo, his kiss-swollen lips parted and wanting, his clothes, even, rumpled and wrinkled in a way that Max knows he hates, in a way that he never lets anyone see.

Half an hour. Half of that is probably gone by now, Max reckons. They’ll have to hurry. He can take his time, another time.

He forces himself to focus. He takes off his own jacket before he forgets, shoves Charles’ thighs apart so that one leg is splayed off the couch, then he drives his knee between them. He swoops down once again, and Charles sighs dreamily into his mouth. Max slides his hands down Charles’ chest until he’s found the buttons of Charles’ slacks, undoing them with deft fingers.

“This is—” Charles starts, lifting his hips, helping Max pull his bottoms to his thighs. Multi-tasking, Max kisses down his throat, skips down to his stomach, and kisses at the happy trail leading from below his belly-button. Distracted, Charles moans and writhes beneath him, throwing his forearm over his eyes. Cute.

“What was that?” Max asks, amused. He kisses Charles’ hip bone lightly, and wraps his fingers around the base of Charles’ length, adoring the way Charles’ hips buck at the touch. He traces a vein with his thumb, his precum making the slide easy, then spits into his hand—not like they need it—and starts to jerk him off. Brows knitted together, Charles squirms, so Max keeps his body steady with a hand on his stomach, feeling the flutter of muscle there. 

Charles tries again, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can meet Max’s eyes. His face is pink, and his breaths come squeaky. He scrunches his nose, prissy and aristocratic, and says, “This is a very old couch. And my suit is very expensive.”

Max sighs and rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll keep you clean,” he promises, and takes Charles into his mouth, hollows his cheeks, and sinks as far down as he can go.

/

Against all odds, they have some time to spare. They spend it fixing each other’s clothes and sex hair, making each other look at least somewhat presentable. Unfortunately, while Max had kept his promise and kept Charles clean, Charles hadn’t returned the favor; now there’s a probably irreparable stain on the antique couch. Oops, Max thinks, and he makes Charles sit on it for their next round of interviews.

It isn’t so bad.

Thankfully, F1 was the only one they’d been on video for. Charles, for the rest of the day, is hazy-eyed and loose-limbed. Max capitalizes on his distraction, teases Charles as much as he can and knows how to—Charles lets it all happen.

And he seems, almost, as if to enjoy it.

But maybe Max is projecting.

/

By dinnertime, Max is finally released. Charles is whisked away by his brother before Max even tries to get a word in, so he doesn’t try. He gets driven home, orders Brad-approved takeout, and calls his dad. Lets him know how the day went. After, he calls his mum, then his sister, and then Raymond. At 8 PM, Brad comes over for training. They talk about things that don’t matter. At 10 PM, Max showers, brushes his teeth, turns off the lights, and crawls into bed. He checks his messages. He frowns when he notices that Charles hasn’t texted. Max isn’t sure why he was expecting him to.

He checks his other texts. He sees that Gemma has texted him his media schedule for the weekend. He doesn’t bother reading it, leaves it for tomorrow. He puts his phone down on the table, closes his eyes, and thinks.

In all this time, the world hadn’t stopped spinning. Even now, it doesn’t stop spinning. Media day is in three days. Infinitely worse: it’s Monaco. Charles will be there; for all of it, he will be there. Normally, WAGs and—now, Max guesses—BAHs are off-limit topics, but there’s no guarantee his sexuality will be. They will want to prep him. Make sure he doesn’t say anything stupid. Charles will be there, and they will have to act in love. Max will have to dodge cameras and avoid journalists the entire weekend. He will have to make statements. He will have to respond. Charles will be there.

On Sunday, Charles will be on the podium.

On Sunday, Max wants to win.

Too much to think about. Too much to worry about.

One day at a time, Max thinks. One day at a time.

/

Voici got a hold of the story first. Apparently, evidence had been slowly building up for months—quotes from Max’s building neighbors and a now-fired member of Charles’ security detail.

The most incriminating evidence, however, were the pap photos taken of them kissing in Max’s car.

They’d been so careful—but maybe, over the last few months, they’d grown complacent.

The story broke the day of the cancelled race in Imola, first thing in the morning. Four hours later, Le Parisien got a hold of it, and that’s when shit started to really hit the fan.

Red Bull was blindsided.

So was the Crown.

/

Max had been blissfully unaware until around noon when he woke up. For many hours, quieted by Do Not Disturb, his phone had been blowing up with calls from Raymond, from Christian, from his father. Everyone important in his life. Before he got a chance to call any of them back, he spotted the ESPN notification at the top of his screen:

Max Verstappen: Formula 1’s reigning world champion and first gay driver in decades?

Below that, an Apple News notification:

Monaco’s Sweetheart breaks hearts worldwide? The inside scoop of Prince Charles of Monaco and Max Verstappen’s 2-year long affair.

In a way, nothing in any of the reports had exactly been false.

/

Max was driven to the palace, silently escorted to a meeting room, and he was seated next to Charles, who was quiet and playing with his hands in his lap and looked like he might throw up. In that moment, Charles looked—small. Charles looked—afraid. Max had never seen him like that before. Max wanted to say something, wanted to ask him if he was okay, but the meeting was in full swing; they hadn’t even paused for Max’s entrance. He settled with placing a hand on Charles’ thigh, his heart rabbiting in his chest. Charles laid his hand over Max’s. It was all Max could do. Max was afraid too.

Once he arrived, however, they switched to English, and explained the plan they came up with while he was sleeping: to confirm the status of their relationship, and run a full press tour. Immediately, without coordinating with Red Bull. That the Prince’s little brother was not only dating a man, but dating the F1 world champion, needed an immediate response, and Charles’ image takes priority over Max’s.

They needed to take control of the narrative, spin it in the right way: They’re in love.

Max didn’t understand. He interrupted halfway, “But we’re—” He glanced at Charles, silent beside him. “We’re not actually—”

Finally, Charles spoke up. He lifted his head, turned to Max, and said, “It does not matter.”

“But—”

“Max,” Charles said, with finality. His eyes were shaking. He looked more upset than Max had ever seen him. “It does not matter.”

And that was that.

/

Tuesday morning, Red Bull post official statements on all their social media platforms, and Max’s social media manager posts a statement from him that he didn’t write. He doesn’t see any of it himself. He stays offline.

That afternoon, he’s in a few virtual meetings with marketing, and they confirm with him the schedule Gemma sent, that they’ve canceled the shootings he had with Checo, and that they want him to focus on keeping a low profile.

He has done more than they needed him to, thanks to the insistence of the Crown.

The interview with Marie won’t be released until Thursday, but Red Bull had received an early preview from the Guardian. To his surprise, the team is satisfied with it. They of course aren’t exactly pleased with some of his responses, and they request that he answer differently and less abrasively next time, but Max is guessing that their expectations were so low that he managed to exceed them, somehow.

They hadn’t even wanted him to speak to any press in the first place. Neither had Max, obviously, but Charles—it would have been silly if Charles had done the interviews alone. Charles needed him there. So.

Wednesday, he streams on Twitch with RedLine. It wasn’t exactly news to them or anyone close to him, the gay thing, but the Charles thing, well—it was a surprise to everyone. Even Max. The boys ask him if he wants them to steer clear from making any jokes about it, and Max says he doesn’t care either way. The last thing Max wants is for his friends to walk on eggshells around him; the last thing Max wants is for things to change any more than they already have. So Crane jokes about it, Bennett jokes about it, and Max also jokes about it. They permaban anyone in chat who jokes about it.

 And that’s Wednesday.

/

Thursday isn’t the hell he was expecting it to be.

Red Bull managed to pull strings and get Max out of the press conference and TV pen appearances, and Checo’s been left to handle the fanzone all on his own, so Max stays inside the Red Bull Energy Station, keeps his head down as much as possible, ignoring the roars of reporters outside, only speaking with his engineers and mechanics.

Tomorrow, though, he won’t be able to get around media.

Don’t worry about the press, GP tells him in the paddock, clasping a hand on his shoulder. It’s all noise. Just focus on driving. Nothing changes, at least from our end.

Max tries his hardest to believe it.

[lacedinweb22]

daddy's coworker (Miguel O'Hara x reader)

Requested by @thbidkbutok

nsfw 18+

summary: Your father leaves you alone at home with his coworker, Miguel O'Hara, who you've known for years. As he works in your father's office finishing up business, you are tempted to distract him.

warnings: aggressive sex, daddy kink, choking, clawing, unprotected sex (penetration)

ʚ ｡⋆˚ ୨୧ ˚⋆｡ ɞ

He stood tall, his dark brown eyes looking down at me, standing right beside my father. “Y/N, you remember Mr. O’Hara. He’s been working with me at Alchemax for…Jesus how long, Miguel?” my father asked, looking up at Miguel. He combed his fingers through his wavy hair, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I want to say… six years soon,” he replied, looking down at me, his hand out for me to shake. 

His massive hand enveloped my hand, which he shook firmly while maintaining eye contact. “Of course, always nice to see you, Mr. O’Hara,” I replied softly, slowly beginning to blush.

“Please, call me Miguel,” he replied quickly, nodding down to me. 

“Man, just yesterday he was a fresh youngin intern, now he’s made it to the big leagues,” he nudged Miguel, who broke a small smile, “I told him he could use my office for the night since Alchemax’s systems will be down and rebooting for the rest of the night. He has some important algorithms to work on. Your mother and I, however, will be out for the night, unless you care to join?” he asked, looking at me hopefully. “Sorry Dad, I told you I have that stupid pre-lab I really need to work on, but this weekend, I swear I’ll be free,” I assured him, giving him a side hug as he began to back away to leave. “Of course, my love. We’ll be home soon. I trust you’ll be warm and welcoming to Mr. O’Hara, hm?” “Of course, Pa, have fun,” I replied, smiling at both of them as they looked down at me.

I backed away to the kitchen, and began to prepare something to snack on, as my father and Miguel conversed and said their farewells. 

I cut up some fruit, stealing glances and watching them interact. Miguel’s voice was deep and echoing, and his rarely seen smile was contagious. I smiled, subconsciously when he would let out a low chuckle at my dad’s embarrassing jokes.

I’d always seen him at Alchemax dinner parties and gatherings throughout the years. He was always chased after at these events, but was famously known as the stubborn, secretive, and  genius bachelor who could never give anyone the time of day. I remembered watching him converse with the adults, his dry humor going over all of their heads, as I giggled from a distance.  

I remembered when I was fresh in college and he was a fresh intern. I clearly remember the first time we met at my dad’s office. We were so different then. So much has changed. He’s still so handsome, perhaps even more. 

He stole glances at me as they spoke. My cheeks burned, as I quickly looked down at the fruit, slowly nibbling at the mango wedges, avoiding eye contact.

Eventually the front door shut, and Miguel walked to my father’s office. He wore a black form fitting sweatshirt, with dark gray dress pants. He walked so confidently, his glasses hanging on his collar, dangling against his muscular chest. His eyes caught mine staring, as he smirked then nodded to me. He turned forward and entered the office, leaving the door open.

I waited a minute then peeked around the kitchen corner, looking through the glass windows to spy on him. He now wore his glasses, eyebrows scrunched as he slid his fingertips across the hologram screens. 

I looked down at the variety of fruit laid out, then got an idea. 

“Mr. O’Hara— I mean Miguel, would you like a bowl of fruit?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe holding up the bowl. He turned from the hologram, his face lit up by the orange light. 

“Mmm, that does sound good. Please and thank you, Y/N,” he replied, softly. I walked up to the desk, sliding the bowl slowly in front of him. 

“So, what are you up to these days?” I said, popping a grape into my mouth. “Work, lots of work,” he replied, snapping a piece of apple then biting into it.

“And you? Man, the last time I saw you, a few months ago, I helped you—” “You helped me with that insane final project I was working on,” I finished.

“Yes, how’s school treating you?” “Fine, but I don’t really want to talk about that right now, I mean— not to be rude, but… just curious, what’s the dating scene like for you? As an older man I mean,” “older man, huh? I didn’t know I was considered ‘older’ but I guess to you college kids, your late thirties might as well be your death bed,” he scoffed, biting into a half of an apple. I shrugged, waiting for a real response.

“I don’t date. I'm single. I figured you knew this; the entirety of Alchemax won’t shut up about it, but yes, I’m single. I’ve got Gabriella and you know… I’m a busy man,” he answered, his eyes glued to mine.

“Single, wow, how convenient,” I muttered, stealing a grape from his bowl. 

I walked around the desk, coming to his side, looking at the bright screens. I leaned forward on my tiptoes, my hips pushed out in front of him. His eyes remained on me as my eyes explored his scribbles and notes covering the equations and numbers spread across the screen. I looked back at him, he looked up at me from his chair, his eyes darkened. I looked down at the huge bulge in his pants. I scoffed.

“Anyways, sorry to distract you, I have a pre-lab to work on, so I must be going. See you later, Mr. O’Hara. Let me know if you… need anything.” I left the office swiftly and went back to the kitchen to clean up. 

I washed the cutting board, as I suddenly felt his hot breath against my neck. “Someone got the message,” I breathed out, as his hard-on pressed against the back of my thigh through his pants. I turned around, my back against the sink, as his hips pressed up against me. 

He lowered his glasses, looking down at me, then slowly took them off, putting them down on the counter beside us. He towered over me, stroking my cheek, putting his thumb on my chin. He traced my lips gently, smirking as he pressed his member against my inner thighs. 

“Did you think I didn’t notice you staring at me all these years?” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me. “I just didn’t know… you felt the same… tension I felt, Mr. O’Hara,” I breathed out in between his wet kisses. His lips were soft and warm, his sharp teeth, almost like fangs, brushed my lips. “What— your teeth, how—” “Don’t worry about it,” he breathed out against my lips. I pulled away to look up at him, he looked back down at me, then dug his face into my neck, wrapping his teeth around me. “Miguel,” I moaned, as he began to dig his fangs into my skin. “I told you not to worry about it,” he breathed out, as he dug his claws into my thighs. I had a slight idea as to why he was built like a fucking beast, but it wasn’t my main focus. 

He drew his lips back up to my lips, still pinning my waist with his claws, tightly against the counter. He began to slide his fingers down my shorts, slowly pushing them down. He bit my bottom lip then slid his hand down the front of my underwear, playing with my clit. "What a wet, pretty distraction," he groaned into my lips. I moaned out from both pleasure and the excitement from finally getting what I had wanted for years. 

My shorts were now at my ankles, as I stood pressed against him in just my soaked underwear. He swiftly lifted me up, sitting me on the kitchen counter, as he kissed me hard, and pulled my shorts off from my ankles. He threw them to the floor, I grabbed him by his belt, pulling his hips in between my legs, his boner stabbing against my desperately aching heat. I unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper, then tugged his pants down, revealing his boxers and the massive tent his hard-on had built. 

“So hard for me, Mr. O’Hara,” I breathed out, palming his member. His hands rested on the counter on both sides of me, as he hovered over me, sucking on my neck. I continued playing with him, as he moaned my name, his fangs brushing my ear. He then grabbed my ass tightly, digging his claws into my hips, pulling me against his boner. I tugged at his sweatshirt, then helped him take it off as he too pulled my sweater off of me. I was now in just my bra and panties, and he was now shirtless and in boxers. I spread my fingers across his skin. He had scars spread across his figure, and his muscles bulged against his glowy skin. He lowered my bra, and wrapped his hands around my tits, squeezing and playing with them. He lowered his face to my chest and began to suck and bite on my nipples, humming against my skin. I combed my fingers through his waves, tugging at the roots as he moaned into my chest. He squeezed my hips tight, as he traced my chest with hickies.

He stood up straight and slid my underwear to the side, creating access to me, as I pulled his boxers down to reveal his dangerously long and thick member. I wrapped my hand around him, making myself familiar with his length. As I felt him, he dipped two fingers into me slowly, coating himself in my slick, then spreading it along his own length. 

He then guided himself against me, pressing up against my entrance. “Are you ready, princesa?” he asked, smirking, revealing his fangs. “Mhmmm,” I moaned, kissing him and pulling his hips against me. He slowly entered, just his tip stretching me out. I moaned out, wincing in pain. “Fuck, slowly,” I whimpered, gripping his back muscles. He dug his face into my neck, as he pushed up and into me slowly but entirely. He was now completely inside of me, causing my insides to stretch and burn. “Fuck, so tight Y/N,” he groaned into my ear. He gripped my hips with both hands, his claws digging into me as he thrusted in and out of me slowly, pulling me onto his length. He began to speed up, I whimpered and whined as I adjusted to the intense pain and pleasure his thick cock was creating. 

He kissed me, biting my bottom lip as he continued thrusting into me. He pulled the back of my hair tightly, “Such a good girl for me, sitting up there, your wet pretty pussy stretching out for me,” he growled. 

His long cock slammed into my cervix causing me to arch my back to prevent further pain, his dick was now angled hitting my g spot, rubbing against me rapidly, spreading warmth up into my stomach. “You’re going to make me… cum Mr. O’Hara,” I moaned, my lips pressed against his neck.

“What a good girl you’re being for me, mami, you like this?” he breathed out, keeping his rhythm. He wrapped his big hand around my neck, tightly choking me, as he had his other hand on my waist, pulling himself into me. He kissed my shoulder, fucking and choking me simultaneously. His aggressive thrusts caused a wet slapping noise, as his soaked cock continued pushing my slick back into me.

“So this is your idea of warm and welcoming, huh?” he growled, smirking down at my lips. “Do you do this with all of your father’s coworkers, huh? Or am I the lucky one?” he whispered into my ear, his fangs brushing my skin. “You’re the only one, Mr. O’Hara… mmmm fuck, I’m gonna… cum, Miguel,” I whined out, gripping his hand on my neck, and arching my back. “Miguel, fuck,” I whimpered, breathing out as I throbbed around him. He slowed down, releasing my neck, letting me recover from my intense climax.

“I’m not done with you,” he growled, as he lifted me off of the counter then turned me around, and bent me over. He slid my underwear to the side, then pressed his cock against my entrance, slowly entering just his wet tip. He pressed himself in slowly, only warming the tip of his cock repeatedly, creating a wet noise every thrust. He wrapped his hands around my hips tightly, pulling himself into me.

“That man who was just here fifteen minutes ago, that’s your father, I’m your daddy,” he whispered, picking up the pace of just his tip thrusting in and out of me. “I mean, I’m sure as hell old enough to be your daddy,” he scoffed, continuing to tease me with his tip; I groaned into my arms, frustrated.

“You won’t get any more until you call me what I am,” he growled, performing only shallow thrusts. “You’re my– my daddy, Mr. O’Hara… fuck! Please, give it to me,” I whined, pushing my hips further out for more length. “Mmmm that’s better,” he groaned as he entered his entire length into me. We both breathed out heavily as he quickly began to pound into me, rhythmically rearranging my insides. “Mmmm daddy like that, keep going, keep fucking me like that,” I moaned out. “Mmmm ¿como eso mami? You like that, do I make you feel good?” he groaned, his body thrusting into mine, pushing my body into the cold marble counter. I moaned in response, whimpering at every hit. 

His claws dug into my hips, drawing blood that dripped down the side of my thighs. I whimpered in pain, but was too distracted by the pleasure of his length to care. 

“Cmon, Y/N, you can give me one more, I know you can,” he grunted, angling his hips lower, to directly hit up into my g spot. “Miguel, fuck… don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” I whimpered, feeling my thighs tremble, and my slick drip down my inner thighs. 

“God, what would your father say if he saw you bent over the kitchen island for me, huh? Cumming for me?” he growled through his smirk. “He’d be… furious,” I breathed out. “Fucking furious, huh?” He scoffed. “You’re breaking the rules for me?” he asked, squeezing my thighs tighter. “Mhmmm,” I whimpered, feeling myself about to climax. “Mmmmm fuck, your tight little pussy is going to make me cum,” he breathed out, keeping his rhythm. “Keep going, keep going daddy, please,” I whined out as I began to finish. 

“Ughhhh mami, like that, mmm like that,” he whimpered into my ear, as he bent down, hovering over me, his large biceps surrounding me on each side. He filled me up with his hot white mess, continuing to thrust as we both rode out our highs, pushing his liquid back into me. “Ay Mami, fuck,” he moaned into my ear, his chest pressed against my back. His cum dripped out of me inevitably, as he lowered his hand in between my legs to spread and rub it all around my slit. The noises of our skin and fluids interacting echoed throughout the penthouse. He slowly thrusted then stopped and pulled out, his huge load leaking out of me immediately. I whimpered to myself, my face resting against my arms on the counter. 

His hands explored my back and ass, massaging me as he kissed the back of my shoulder. “Go get cleaned up, Y/N, rápido. Wouldn’t want your father finding out what you did with your new daddy, huh?”

[never2tired4u]

Hey!! I hope you're doing well! I just read your post about the dateables reacting to MC back in human form, and I really loved it! Your writing was great and I loved how their personalities were on point!! I saw your asks were open and wanted to ask if you'd like to write a bit of a domestic fluff with the dateables reacting to MC cooking/teaching them how to cook human food! (especially Solomon bc he's the worst at it lol) Thank you and please write more in the future, you're amazing 💗

— 🦇

Note: Thank you so much 🦇 anon! Also I love this idea, unfortunately i actually didn't know what to do with it :( but tried my best and sorry for not replying soon. Been busy with life in general… Came back to NB yesterday only to get a message from Luke saying he was being chased by Devildom tomatoes lol

You are amazing too and I will try to write more in the future <3

OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader

Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》

Summary: 《°•[ Cooking with them!]•°》

Warnings: 《°•[ Fluff, Solomon wanting to cook.]•°》

With Solomon, cooking isn’t easy. He is a free spirit, curious, and itching to try different combinations with a smile on his face, be it potions or spells, or cooking. Thankfully, he is powerful enough to fix those failed experiments and let it be a learning experience for him, except when he is tasked (himself) to cook. He tries, fails, and just accepts it as perfection, never learning his lesson, never improving. You don’t have the heart to tell him to not join you in the kitchen since he seems to genuinely love cooking for people, however, sometimes he really tests your patience.

Like right now, as he tries, once again, to add some sort of weird ingredient to the pot. Something that DEFINITELY doesn't belong in a human dish…Or any realm's dish for that matter.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Put that down.” you warned him with a stern voice, Solomon just smiled while slowly lowering the thing, “Not in the pot!” you yelled, barely managing to stop him before he added his ‘touch’ to the meal, “Solomon, what did we talk about?”

Solomon frowned, “I know, it just…” sighing as he glanced at the book, reading the instructions again, “The recipe seems so boring.”

“It’s a soup recipe.”

He dramatically sighed again and stepped back, putting the “ingredient” he was going to add back into his pocket, making you wonder what it even was. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by him wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his cheek on your shoulder, “Sorry, I promise I won't try to add any DemonFlower Eyeball into it.”

“Just don't add anything!”

“Okay okay,” he laughs, “Only human stuff, got it.”

A smile formed on your lips after hearing his voice next to your ear, a gentle and calm tone. Ready to do anything you requested from him. For now.

After all, even though Solomon is a free spirit, his love for you makes him come back down to earth. If it is you who tells him to follow the recipe, then he will. And surprisingly enough, he isn’t a bad cook once he stops his ways of…adding things.

He fetches you some ingredients then stands next to you, waiting for your instructions (since you sadly don't trust him much to do anything on his own). You finished rather quickly and ready the bowls. Both of you sit on the table and Solomon takes his first sip, “And here I thought I was the teacher in our relationship. It seems I have a lot to learn from you too.” he says as a genuine smile graces his lips.

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“This tastes delicious.”

“It's a simple dish.” you say, a little confused by his low tone, and the far away look in his eyes.

“It's been forever since I've eaten any human world food,” his smile never leaves his face, “It may be a simple dish but that is what makes it so special. Thank you for the food.”

Simeon is someone who enjoys cooking, not as much as Luke perhaps, but he is still okay at it. For him, trying new recipes every now and then, helping Luke around is something of a routine at this point. Cooking in general has always been a job he needed to do, until his view changed quickly when you decided to enter the kitchen with him. The angel then quickly realized that cooking can also be fun and engaging too.

If you are around that is.

Tonight, you had a craving for some human world food. Luke asked to try some too so you decided to get to work and Simeon offered to help.

“So, where do we start?-” he is suddenly stopped by your arms wrapping around him and completely stops moving for a moment, however he gently hugs you back.

“Simeon?” you ask in confusion, “What are you doing?”

Simeon slightly pulls back, only to realize you were just tying the apron around him, “Oh.” he smiles gently, while mentally hitting himself on the head and pulls back, “I thought you wanted a hug.”

“Maybe later, now let's get to work!”

Simeon is out of his usual attire and wearing something more comfortable instead, with an apron tied to his waist thanks to you.

He listens to what you want to make and what he can do. (Un)fortunately he usually finishes his work pretty fast and then tries to take over yours to help which you refuse. Giving him another, much more simple task and while he does that Simeon often starts to ramble.

“...Would it be rude of me to say that I like how human ingredients are so normal?”

“Compared to what?”

“Anything from Devildom really...” Simeon can't help but look guilty, it feels like he is insulting the whole Devildom himself, a place most of his friends consider a home, but he can't help it, “At least these don't try to attack us.”

“Oh, that's true,” you almost let out a chuckle at how nervous Simeon seems as he chops tomatoes, probably imagining them starting a fight, “What about Celestia?”

“Celestia? Well, hm…” his hands pause for a moment as he gets lost in thought, “They are…Okay? Though, some of them are…Too much.”

You aren't really sure what Simeon means by ‘Too much.’ but decide not to ask about it as he seems annoyed. A memory of an energetic cucumber crossed his mind, perhaps?

“I'm glad you like our normal and boring tomatoes then.”

Simeon laughs nervously, “Yeah, I like it, especially since they don't grow legs and run around.” he turns to you with a smile, “So, we can just focus on making the food and enjoy talking like this.”

Even after the food was finished and the three of you sat down to enjoy the food Simeon can't help but ask you to teach him more human world recipes, “Luke enjoyed it.” he says. Hoping you don't notice how he just wants to spend time with you.

“You want me to make a human world dish?”

“No.” you shake your head, “We are going to make it together, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiles, when people come to him they always have requests. For example, Beelzebub. The young devil always says he wants to eat his cooking, or use the big kitchen at the palace for a new dish. No one ever came to him and asked to cook together since it was usually his job alone to do, he is a butler after all.

“Alright. However, I don't know the dish you want to make, so…” he can't help but chuckle a little as he bows his head, “Please treat me kindly.”

His words are a complete lie though, Barbatos may not know how the recipe goes but he can tell what needs to be added. He is a great cook, and so graceful while he does the work. He is pretty quick too so the food is almost done already.

“Hmm…” after taking a small sip from the pot you can't help but think that something is missing, it tastes good but it could be better you think, so you turn to your helper, as he likes to call himself, “Barbatos, what do you think of this?”

He casually takes the spoon you hold for him and hums, “It's great, but how about adding some bay leaf?”

“...Bay leaf? We have that?”

“I do, I sometimes use it.” he walks up to a random cabinet and pulls out a jar, “It goes well in foods that need to be cooked for a long period of time. You just need to take it out after it's done.”

“Huh. So, you use human world ingredients in your cooking?”

“Only when you are around,” you watch as Barbatos adds two leaves into the pot, “It's amusing to see your reaction when you eat what I cook for you.”

“That's why they taste so familiar!?”

Barbatos innocently smiles at you, “Don't forget to stir, dear. Or would you like me to take over?”

“Barbatos, don't tell me you actually have been making me human food that looks like Devildom food.”

“I thought the familiar taste would make you happy.”

“...That's kind. Thank you.” you smile, but then squint your eyes at him, “You sure there's nothing else…?”

Barbatos doesn't say anything as he starts cleaning around the kitchen, picking up the things you've used and no longer need.

Of course there's another reason why he secretly cooks human dishes for you. It's so you can visit him, compliment him and ask for him. It's a selfish reason. However, for someone like him it's not surprising. He is a demon, and when it comes to your time and attention, he selfishly wants it all.

You are asking the prince, the future ruler of Devildom to cook with you, a human dish? And he agrees with a laugh? If anyone heard this, they would be thinking the Devildom is coming to an end. His butler however, can't help but think Diavolo agreed without hesitation only because it's you and only because it's a way to escape from his duties. Considering the prince has never touched an utensil in his life, it is weird to see that he seems so confident.

His confidence, however, quickly shaders as he accidentally pushes on the tomato too much while trying to chop it and makes a mess. Covering your aprons and walls with tomato seeds and juices.

He turns to you and smiles, “Have I ever told you that you look good in red?”

You scoff but can't help as a smile grows on your face, “Yes, usually when I'm in a red outfit, not when in a red mess.”

“Small details.” he laughs, but a sigh leaves him as he looks down at the chopping board, “I didn't think they would be so soft and delicate.”

“Don't blame the tomatoes.” when he turns his sad eyes towards you, you wave your hands around quickly, a feeling of guilt settling in, “Don't blame yourself either, accidents happen in kitchens! We can still use it.”

“That's great! Then I'll continue with the cutting,” he says, smiling again, “I'll be more careful from now onl.”

Diavolo may not have a lot of experience in the kitchen, no matter which realm the food is from, but he still finds his own failures fun. Laughing when he accidentally drops the salt shaker in the pan or when he almost burns himself. As a prince he never had mishaps in the kitchen before.

It's new, it's entertaining.

“Thank you for helping me.” you can't help but look at the bandages around his fingers, “Even though it was kind of a disaster.”

Diavolo laughs as he searches for the plates,”No no, thank you! This was a lot of fun. And we get to taste the fruit of our labor too!” he finally finds the right cabinet, “And I'm always happy to learn about the things you enjoy, like this dish.”

He might still have a lot of papers to read and sign but every once in a while he goes into the kitchen to cook the recipe he learned from you. He is extra careful while making it if he is making it for you but is more care free if it's only for himself. He also eats it when he misses you when you are unable to visit him, the same human world dish brings comfort to him as he imagines it bringing comfort to you.

Ⓒ2024

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in the mini series - this is the second version, more sadder so that's a heads up there

summary: remi starts her first year of school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

warning: talks of death.

alternative ending for this one - please don't hate me for it, i'm sorry in advance!

based on the reactions to this one, is how i am going to figure out the next mini series!

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go as expected. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day that your eldest daughter started big school, but sometimes life takes you by complete surprise.

That day, life had a far bigger surprise than you or Leah could ever have imagined.

“This doesn’t feel right, you should be here,” Leah speaks aloud a few hours later, cradling your newborn son, Archie George Williamson at home  in her arms, knowing that you should be here to see this moment as well. 

His tiny breaths, soft and slow, his fingers curled into little fists – You’re not there to hold him yourself.

The labour had been far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated and you lost too much blood, and though they tried to save you, you never woke up after your son came into the world.

Leah's eyes are red from crying, but she’s holding herself together for the sake of the baby – For the sake of the three children that you’ve left behind while she strokes Archie’s head softly, “I hate that you aren’t here, I hate that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day," She murmurs, almost to herself, “We promised her we would both be there.”

The room feels empty without you, a hollow space where your laughter and warmth should be. Leah feels the ache of your absence in every corner, in every breath she takes.

“I hope you know how much your Mumma loved you already, little man,” The blonde whispers,  her heart breaking as she looks down at Archie, whose little face is scrunched up while he sleeps, “Believe me, she loved you so, so much from the minute we found out we were expecting you.”

As she takes a deep breath to steady herself, she continues to speak, “Our family might not be complete now, but you’re here, Archie Bug and we’ll make sure that you know all about her.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway as Amanda has brought Remi and Esme back from school. Leah wipes her eyes quickly, trying to put on a brave face as the door flies open.

“Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement, her hair now wild and free from it’s ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity, unaware of the loss that’s waiting to be explained.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly, her heart aching as she realises she’ll have to tell them soon.

Remi, always so observant, stops short and notices the bundle in Leah’s arms, but frowns when she doesn’t see you on the sofa like she thought she would, “Where’s Mumma?”

Leah’s smile falters, the weight of her grief momentarily overwhelming as she struggles to find the words, “Mumma… She’s not here anymore,” she says softly, her voice quivering.

Remi’s head tilts in confusion, not able to understand your wife’s words so much, “What do you mean, Mummy?” She asks as her eyes fix on Archie as she tiptoes over to Leah with exaggerated caution, “Is this him?”

“It is,” Leah responds, her voice trembling, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a small, sad smile as she continues to hold Archie in her arms.

Amanda, who has walked through the house with Jacob, peers over to look at her new grandson, “He’s perfect, Bubba.” She says, sharing a sad smile with her daughter.

Jacob scoops Esme up into his arms to give her a better look at your newborn, “He’s very little still, Es, so you have to be very gentle with him.” He tells her.

Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mummy,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

Leah laughs softly, tears threatening again, “He is, isn’t he?” She pauses to settle Archie down in his Moses basket, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Jacob sets Esme down next to Remi, watching the two girls stare at their brother in the Moses basket as Amanda takes the moment to wrap her arms around her daughter to comfort her.

Wanting to be brave for her children, Leah wipes away any visible tears and plasters on a fake smile as she looks in the direction of her daughters, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, catching the moment that Esme tries to reach out and poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie.” She reminds her with a soft smile.

Archie just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep, already learning to find comfort in the noise around him.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” Leah tells her softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, pushing past the weight in her chest, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite how heartbroken she feels inside.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” Jacob rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners in this house,”  Leah shrugs, trying to hold onto the joy in the room, “Just as long as all 3 of my kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Can I hold him, Mummy? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at Leah with those big, hopeful eyes that match her own.

Leah nods with a smile that almost feels real, “Okay, Rem, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” She instructs gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold Archie. Leah gently lifts the sleeping baby from his Moses basket, cradling his body with steady hands, though her heart feels anything but, as she slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Remi’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Rem,” Leah whispers back, her voice breaking just a little, how she wishes you were to see this, to be part of this moment.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as Leah quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Leah agrees, her smile wobbly but genuine as she looks down at Archie before leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As Leah watches her three children, she feels the weight of your absence, an ache that will never fully leave but she knows that no matter what, she needs to be strong for them now. Making sure that they never forget you, she will keep your memory alive in every way that she can.

Because even though you’re not here, your love is and Leah will make sure that’s enough.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[yerion]

(love) you.

jungkook is shameless, especially when it comes to his lips. although you only want your lipstick to stain his lips, you find someone else’s; it’s a shame, because your shade would look prettier on him.

pairing : player!jungkook x art student!f-reader. au(s) : nevertheless!au. genres : mainly fluff, slight angst.

content : jungkook doesn’t date, but he still loves.

word count : 3,4k.

“did you do anything yesterday?” you ask as you observe jungkook get ready. at his usual delay, your gaze rolls flat onto the ground in disappointment, escaping the sight of jungkook fixing his hair in your mirror.

the couple of calls you made to him last night after gruelling moments of hesitation were all missed. you know he isn’t obliged to answer you, but for someone who’s been sleeping over at yours for countless nights, you anticipated a little more—just a little more attention.

“what was that?” jungkook then asks back absentmindedly.

“oh,” your gaze bounces up, knowing he’ll stare back once you reply. “were you busy yesterday?”

a lopsided smile flourishing on his lips, he turns his head to meet your expectant gaze. “i was at another gathering,” he answers. “you might know them, actually.”

“really?” a forced grin inevitably latches onto your features at his obliviousness. he talks as if he’ll invite you the next time he’s out, but the truth is that he won’t—more so if you know the people he’s planning to spend time with. 

the moment jungkook fixes the last of his stray hairs, he retreats from his own reflection to position himself next to you on the side of your bed. “were you waiting for me?” he whispers teasingly into your reddened ear.

“no,” you interject in embarrassment. “i was just—”

a knowing chuckle spills past his lips. “sorry,” he murmurs sweetly. “my phone was on silent.” you watch his doe eyes evaluate; in his mind, he’s calculating what would throw you out of these phases of disappointment. 

so he knew you called.

you shake your head profusely in dismissal. “don’t worry about it.”

at your reassurance, jungkook’s attention diminishes from the conversation. instead, he moves a hand close to your face, a finger delicately gliding across the lower lip before pressing down on it, causing your lips to separate and subtly spread apart. 

“hey,” your voice squeezes out muffled.

“can i find you after class today?” 

again, you’re found nodding at his suggestion. jungkook smiles at that, pleased with your compliance. he proves it to you by swiftly leaning forward, stopping mid-way just to catch you breathless before drawing close enough to capture your lips for a taste.

jungkook backs away with the sound of a subdued smooch, and you immediately sling yourself back and gasp dramatically in utter surprise. your eyes widen at jungkook who’s now grinning triumphantly. 

at times where you should be fighting for extremities, he never fails to render you silent. he works harmoniously with the prickly sensation that only emerges into prominence when he’s around.

“i’ll see you later.” he whispers softly.

your head is peeking out and peering out to the distance while on your tiptoes expectantly. a sigh eventually tumbles out of your lips when another minute of nothing passes.

what are you waiting for?

you drop your head back, allowing the tide of disappointment to consume you as whole again. class ended an hour ago, and for jungkook, his class should’ve ended at a similar time to yours. 

you peer up, exhaling freely at the galaxy looming over you. it’s the brightest company there is, yet here you are, waiting for someone who only offers fractured promises. 

you don’t even know why you’ve devoted yourself to such shallow loving—he’s barely given you any signs of reciprocation, and deep inside, you know that—you’ve set yourself for detonation.

you begin to walk, breaking free from these hollow expectations embedded into your head. you leave any thought knotted with the remnants of jungkook in the air.

upon passing familiar buildings nearby, you coincidentally find someone who looks exactly like jungkook standing on top of a flight of stairs, melded majestically in flickering light. even with his back turned, the resemblance is uncanny. 

stealing a glance through your narrowed lenses, you struggle to see the rest of his façade after observing for minutes. the anonymous barely moved since. he isn’t alone, because you can see another pair of legs through the gap of his own. your perspective from the lower ground is helpful in that sense.

then slight movement—you watch the mysterious guy randomly lean forward, naturally revealing more of the other person with him at this hour. 

it’s a girl—a girl in your practical class. 

now the mystery unveils; a fervent sensation pinches parts of your heart when you notice that the guy is in fact jungkook. 

without giving you a second to breathe, he inches closer to plant a chaste kiss onto her lips. you’re unconsciously counting the seconds of their intimacy like a psychopath even with the aggravating heated jabs in your chest. 

“jungkook?” she questioned, insolence apparent in her voice. “he doesn’t date.”

“he’s hot, but what’s the point when all he does is fuck around?”

you were warned.

you were seriously warned.

it’s you who chose this twisted fate for yourself.

with the lamp on, you lay still in bed, gazing at the dimmed ceiling. the stuffy feeling in your chest simmered, but now you’re dealing with a bundle of sickening anxiety that claimed its spot in the depths of your stomach.

the sigh you release aligns perfectly with the noise of your doorbell chiming. mainly startled, you spring up, creasing the sheets beneath as you stumble towards the monitor connected to the camera on your door.

as if god is entertained by the thought of suffering from your self-inflicted consequences, your breath hitches and your tongue tangles at jungkook’s spontaneous advent. 

oh god.

through the fuzzy quality of the monitor, you feast your eyes on the rare moments of him waiting for you; for you to open up and embrace the danger he emanates like the scent of his fresh cologne.

that ultimately provokes you to push open the door. your frustration towards your own self is immeasurable, but there’s no cure for lovesickness. deadpanning, you raise your head, feeling a draft of wind caress your face before finding jungkook’s indifferent eyes. 

“you’re ridiculous.” in all sorts of ways, jeon jungkook.

however all he does is let his eyes roam, allowing him to explore the elusive details of your body. averting his gaze from your eyes, he then stares at your lips, the curves of your neck before overtly pausing at your bare collarbones.

your jaw drops ajar the moment you decipher the true meaning behind his stare; you’re in nothing but your pyjamas—a tank top and shorts.

“have you eaten?”

brows collapsing into a tenuous frown, you shake your head adamantly. “no,” you shut down. “i wasn’t hungry.”

“still,” jungkook sighs out loud as he places his palm against your forehead, checking your temperature for his sake. “i don’t want to think about you getting sick again—”

you immediately grab ahold of his wrist, tearing his hand away from you. “come in,” you mutter. “i want to talk to you.”

jungkook steps in, automatically stopping in front of your closed door instead of entering further. “i’m listening,” he says knowingly. “tell me anything.”

you inhale, voluntarily stopping yourself from breathing at his sweet offer. “why do you make me wait?” you confess. “am i that easy?”

jungkook raises an aggressive brow, offended by your accusation. “it’s not that.”

“i saw you on the way home.” you cut in determinedly. “i didn’t mean to, but i saw you with someone else.”

“why does that matter?” 

of course.

this is the type of person jungkook is.

“is it the kiss you’re worried about?” jungkook takes a step forward deliberately, naturally causing you to trip backward until your shoulders are harshly pressed against the wall, trapped under his piercing gaze.

shooting a pained glare at him, you scoff inwardly. “so you do know.”

jungkook looks away as he sighs frustratedly. “it wasn’t anything special.”

“that makes you even worse.”

“if it didn’t mean anything to me, you should be caring less about it.” 

jerk.

you scoff in a series as you brush your hair back angrily. “that’s clearly not the point here.”

“then what is?”

he’s right.

what is the point of arguing when you’re the reason behind this heartbreak?

you knew this.

you had this coming.

“forget it.” you exasperate bitterly, “what can i say as someone who isn’t important to you either?”

“that’s not it.”

“then who am i to you?” 

“someone different to me.” he answers vaguely. “you’re the only person i enjoy being with.”

his words take you aback, inducing heat to reside in your body again in unease; it melts down your next words lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“how about you?” jungkook asks deeply. “how do you feel about me?”

“i don’t know how to feel about—”

“should we let it go then?” his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in tender strokes. “one word from you, and i’ll stop.”

you’re anxious; you’re frightened in case this might be the last.

jungkook is a paradox you can’t seem to grasp. behind your back is a world that carries his name; your mind searches for him in a cloud of cigarette smoke and a garden full of butterflies.

you’re afraid that’ll torment you; it’d kill you to think there was once a possibility to make that all into bliss.

because after all this time, no one’s ever been as magnetising as him.

fuck it.

tilting your head upward ever so slightly, you lean into plant a gentle kiss on his lips. you resign from the kiss quicker than usual; avoiding eye contact and turning your head to the side. 

“are you sure?” jungkook questions.

“i’m not.” 

oblivious to the silence, your gaze flickers, unsure of what to do next to relieve the tension. your blood surges, heightening the warmth in your cheek, making it known to jungkook’s fingertips.

wordlessly, his hand falls, instead it finds your jaw; he holds the end of your chin, steadily turning your head back to him.

your heart begins to race at a speed you’ve never felt; hard thumps thrash against your ribcage. there’s butterflies pedantically fluttering in your stomach, probably alarmed by the brute force of your heart.

“are you busy tomorrow?”

you simply shake your head.

“spend it with me then.” 

“don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“i’ll just miss it.” jungkook draws in, shortening the space between your bodies before pulling in for a kiss harsher than yours. your eyes shut at his eager lips, arms instinctively finding its way to hook around his neck.

this is… fine—right?

before your shoulders can ram any harder against the wall, he fluidly slips his arms under your thighs, carrying you high against his chest. not only does it grant you the room to fully loop your arms around his neck, but it brings you dangerously near, offering you the option of fuelling the fiery kiss.

when he perches you on top of your own kitchen counter without giving your lips a rest, you fall back into his arms, curious to see the expression he has on for you.

jungkook tilts his head in wonder. “is this my first time seeing you with your hair tied up?” he smiles slyly, stiffening his grip around your waist.

“oh—” your hand frantically rummages for the hair tie buried in your hair. once you grab it, you slide it off in a panic, knowing it wasn’t your best job. you accidentally left it in and tossed around in your bed. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“what was that for?” he cracks into an airy chuckle. “now i can’t say you look gorgeous.”

you purse your lips teasingly. “can’t you still?”

“but with your hair down—” he purposely tips into the curve of your neck to breathe against your ear, sending you continual waves of electricity. “—you’re something else.” 

you smack his shoulder with a tough blow. “give me a break,” rolling your eyes sarcastically, you huff out a small pout. “i had enough of your vague words today.”

“yeah?” jungkook hums, “i’ll leave it to your imagination then.”

“very funny.”

“should we eat something?” jungkook coaxes in a whisper.

you side-eye the clock. “it’s so late, but…” you trail off. “this is the best time to eat.” 

“that’s what i like to hear.” 

“you did what?”

“please, don’t be so loud!” a girl hushes her friend beside her. 

the ruckus lured your gaze to lift. it’s how you envisioned—just two girls procrastinating on their due work and relaying updates of each other’s lives on the weekend. you simply nod alone in understanding, gradually letting your attention pan back to your painting. 

“come on!” a burst of laughter escapes the friend’s entire body. “jungkook came over to yours on saturday?”

inevitably, your whole existence comes to a complete stop at the sound of his name slipping out of someone else’s mouth. your finger buffers, causing your brush stroke to deviate elsewhere, abandoning a permanent red stain on a place you wanted uncoloured.

“shut up.” she stresses behind clenched teeth. “people are going to hear.”

you’ve seen and heard about him kissing people heartlessly, but a story about him staying over at another girl’s house is not only just breaking news, but something you weren’t mentally ready for.

“who cares!” she cackles hysterically. “it’s not like anyone here had the same amount of romance as you with him.”

“romance?” the girl groans knowingly. “as if he does any of that.” she sighs in sheer disappointment; a sound you thought you could only make regarding him. “i fucking wish.”

“we need to talk more about what the two of you did after class.” 

the girl dunks her paintbrush back into a can of dirtied water. “where should we go?” she giggles enthusiastically. “my house?”

“ew,” her friend screeches. “without knowing what the fuck you two did in there?”

“shut up!”

lost in a world that now feels uncomfortably fuzzy, you suddenly jolt at a random vibration in your pocket. your phone alarms you of what feels like a new text. with a half absent mind, you take the phone out of your jeans for a dire distraction.

[jeon jungkook] 14:22.‘you’re finishing soon.’

[jeon jungkook] 14:23. ‘i’m coming to see you. let’s get lunch together?’

14:23. ‘sure.’

unlike him, he matched the time perfectly to invite you for lunch. it’s only minutes before your two-hour long recreational class ends, and all you’re taking to the future is an unerasable and disastrous story caused by a single mention of his name.

you’re pathetic.

of course, it’s from here onward, time loses its power against you. it always has, especially if it’s anything related to jungkook. though you’ve thoughtlessly accepted to be the extra company he can unconditionally ask for, you decide to remain seated in an emptying classroom, stupidly waiting for him to notice your wretched choice to rebel against him for the very first time.

this is who you’ve become—a person craving nothing but short-lived attention from someone who gives you bruises like presents.

“found you.”

there he is.

“not hungry again?”

your eyes stay grounded and your lips remain sealed in thinking. eventually, you feel a breath caress your ear, sending a frigid shiver down your spine. it wakes you up, triggering your gaze to shoot towards the beautiful yet menacing cause—jungkook.

flustered, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you totally lost your equilibrium. “i was distracted,” you mutter. “what did you say?”

“i’m complaining because you didn’t let me court you today.” jungkook replies smoothly. “did you change your mind?”

court you? 

“a little.” you answer vaguely, still uncomfortable to face the truth.

“i’m a little hurt.” jungkook jests softly. “i missed you.” he casually drags out a spare seat beside you to sit on. “how about you?”

missed you?

you look fixedly at his attractive uneven grin. “more than you did.”

“really?” his eyebrows raise in contentment. “are you sure you’re not more interested in the masterpiece you’re working on than a date with me?”

a date?

with your head lowered, you sigh deeply. “let’s drop this.” you propose abruptly. “let’s drop it before i start to annoy you with my feelings.”

“is that the reason?” 

“it’s the reason and the problem.” you turn back to jungkook, facing him through your seat aligned with his. “so let’s not see each other like this after today.”

he seems taken aback, speechless—almost.

“the reason and the problem is that i started to care about who you meet and kiss.” you confess. “and that shouldn’t happen between you and i.”

you knew all this time.

“because that’s a break of your rules.” your sick rules of seeing people without strings attached.

jungkook avoids your gaze by looking to the side. though not visible and barely audible, you can pick up the muted sound of his breath that’s longer than usual. you watch his eyebrow piercing twitch in contemplation as your chest starts to carry weight again. it feels heavy inside; it’s no longer a foreign feeling to you, but something so familiar.

pushing yourself out of the stool, you set off a loud screech before standing on your feet upon securing enough room. “i won’t apologise for it.” you exhale strongly, “i won’t join you today.”

“don’t forget your painting.”

“you take it if you meant what you said before.” 

when you try to take a step further away from him, jungkook grabs ahold of your swaying wrist to stop you halfway. “do you mean it?”

“are you talking about the artwork?” you scoff lightly before clearing your throat awkwardly regardless. “i have to restart.”

“i meant your feelings.”

“what about it?” 

“are you actually taking me seriously?”

offended, you aggressively flick your wrist away from his grip. “you’ve never been a joke to me like i was to you.”

“you’re judging me way too quickly here.”

“then can i give you time to explain?”

at the end of your sentence, he’s silent to make his hand known to you again. his fingers clamp your wrist gently, grasping it in a way that brings you to feel baffled at the unfamiliarity. he’s completely defenseless with you, to the point it’s forcing you to think you could be the person to break him if you wanted.

your breath trembles in confusion as you blink profusely at jungkook’s sealed lips. your arm solidifies under his grip.

“are you alright with someone like me?” he asks softly while caressing your wrist with the pad of his thumb.

you watch jungkook’s eyes deepen in curiosity. “i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t.”

“really?” jungkook cracks into an enigmatic chuckle, masking his insecurities. “i want to believe you so badly.” he mutters under his breath.

“jungkook,” you pronounce.

the lingering movement in jungkook’s fingers halt at the sound of his own name gently rolling off your tongue.

“how do you feel?” you spin the bottle back to him verbally. “did you stop me because you’re afraid you might be losing one of your many girls, or did you stop me because you mean it?”

“i feel like i’d miss you.”

“to that someone you’re planning to miss, you’ve been flirting whilst kissing different girls in front of her eyes.” you mutter back. “can you get back to her when you feel apologetic about that? because she likes you so much now, she can’t handle the sight of you being your usual self anymore.”

“can i let her know that this is my first time feeling like this?”

“feeling like what?” you ask hesitantly.

“i feel like you’re going to be my last thought every night if you go like this.” he answers. “and i don’t know for how long.”

“i like you, jeon jungkook.”

“i—”

you whisper, “and i think you like me too.”

“yeah.” 

turning towards his wrist, you take a step forward to close into his face. jungkook peers up to you from his seat in astonishment, however you simply reach out to press your fingertip against his bottom lip, wiping a darkened lipstick stain away in the opposite direction as an evident frown paints your softened features.

jungkook stares at your dirtied digit. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you now reply softly in slight embarrassment. you talked with a bigger mouth than usual, which is a colour jungkook has never seen until today.

“is it?”

you shift your head to the side. “my shade would look prettier on you.”

“prove it.”

[honeygrahambitch]

"Where did this come from?" Hannibal asked. His hands were busy washing Will's hair. A bruise on his temple drew his attention, making him brush away the foam to get a better look. "It wasn't here yesterday."

"A guy we arrested showed some resistance. He hit me with the barrel of his gun." Will explained. His eyes were closed and he was almost purring in Hannibal's hands.

Hannibal made a disapproving sound.

"Shame you arrested him. I can't go after him now."

"You do realize you can't chase down every guy who touches me, right?"

"One can always try." Hannibal answered honestly and continued massaging Will's scalp.

"I never hear about stuff like that from you." Will suddenly said and opened his eyes.

"What kind of stuff?"

"About the people that do anything to you."

"That's because the people who do anything to me don't get to live too much, darling. I take care of them myself."

"Of that much I am aware." Will said and pictured the way the Ripper case file kept getting thicker and thicker on his desk. "It would be nice if you didn't. At least sometimes."

"Are you implying that you want to play the knight in shining armour? For me?"

"You're stupid." Will concluded. "But yes. Sometimes you are too elegant with these individuals. And I get it, that's your thing."

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully.

"You got me curious. I might take your offer."

"Do that."

*

"Alright. Now, let's discuss what the victims have in common." Jack said, looking through a few pictures.

Will's phone rang just when he was about to reply.

"Sorry." He apologized and was about to reject the call. Hannibal's name flashing on the screen made him do the opposite.

"Hey." Will greeted him.

"My dearest." Hannibal started. "There is a gentleman here at Walmart who left his shopping cart in the parking lot. Right in front of my Bentley."

"That... sounds annoying?"

"And agonizingly rude."

Will smiled thinking of the funny choice of words. He found it adorable that Hannibal had called to share that with him. Then it sunk in. He remembered about their discussion last night.

"You're at Walmart where exactly?"

"In Quantico. I wanted to pick you up later."

"I'm on my way. Don't let that son of a bitch go." Will said and hung up.

That was it. His knight in shining armour moment. The looks he earned from everyone in the room were mixed and confused.

"Sorry, I need to go. It's important."

"Of course. The serial killer can wait." Jack concluded as Will was already leaving the room.

*

"Hey." Will said as soon as he parked his car. "You."

"Huh?" The man who was already very bored with the conversation he was having with Hannibal turned his head towards Will.

"Yes, you. Grab your shopping cart quickly and put it where it should be."

"And who exactly are you? The shopping cart police?"

"I will be your worst nightmare if you don't do as I say. Trust me, this is me being nice."

"I'm not doing anything." He said and started walking towards his car. Will did not quickened his pace. He memorized the car plate and watched the man leave with a content smile on his face.

"That was me being nice." Will told Hannibal who looked like he was watching his favorite movie.

"I am looking forward to what will happen."

"Good." Will said, then kept on his shining armour. "Are you alright?"

"Bothered by this incident but I am slowly becoming more and more enthusiastic."

*

"I hope you understand why I also asked Dr. Lecter to consult on this case." Jack said as soon as Will and Hannibal arrived at the crime scene. "It's quite peculiar."

"The man was found dead in a shopping cart at Walmart. His liver is missing. The cut is quite sloppy so definitely not the Ripper." Jimmy explained.

"Was it really that sloppy?" Will asked unamused by the feedback.

"I mean, it shows that our killer has no medical training whatsoever. But he's good enough. Meticulous."

"What do you think, doctor?" Will asked, ignoring Jimmy.

"The crime scene shows high class. Power. It has something sensual to it. I would say that the killer must have been quite disturbed by a very specific behavior caused by the victim."

"What exactly?" Jack asked confused by the specific choice of words. He knew better than to question Hannibal.

"Maybe the victim left his shopping cart in the parking lot?" Brian suggested making Jack roll his eyes.

"I'm sure it's deeper than that."

[doitforbangchan]

Beside you - L.M

Pairing: Idol!Minho x reader

Requested: my wonderful friend @softkisshyunjin requested this ages ago. Sorry for the wait love 💖

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cursing, established relationship not edited 😘

WC: 1.4k exactly

This is based on the song 'Beside you' by 5 Seconds of Summer Masterlist

“All packed?” 

“Mm, almost. Just need to get my last pair of shoes.” Minho replied, reaching into his closet and pulling out his favorite pair of kicks. He set them in his suitcase and zipped it up with a sigh. “There. I think that’s all.” 

You offered him a delicate smile, smacking the top of the suitcase for good measure. Today he was leaving for another country for a series of interviews and performances for the newest comeback. You were more proud of him and his success that words could describe, but that didn’t mean you both hadn’t been dreading today for weeks. Even though you had been together for years at this point it being away from him never got any easier.

Minho ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, “I don’t wanna go.” 

You snorted, “Don’t say that, Chan would have your head if he heard you say that.” You reached out and smoothed the creases in his shirt, and he grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to go if it means leaving you here alone. Again.” He gazed deep into your eyes, no hint of jest in his expression. You gulped as you tried to find a good reply, and Minho could the thoughts swirling around in your head. Words you would never say aloud. 

“Well,” You started, clearing your voice. “I’m not alone. I have our babies, and you know those three are a full time job with their antics. They get it from their dad, afterall.” Of course you would use the cats as a deflection. 

“You know what I mean.” He put his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I’m being serious, you know.” 

“So am I, Min. This is your dream- your calling even. There's no way I would let you stay here when you have all the STAY to make happy. I’ll be ok.” Your hand that wasn’t on his heart cupped his cheek and rubbed his cheek bones softly. “Plus, you won’t be completely gone. Not really.” He hummed in question. “I’ll have you here in my heart, just as you’ll have me. Just don’t ever leave it.” 

“Never.” He answered immediately. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Minho.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and he pulled you into his hold, squeezing you tightly and letting all the emotions within him pour into you. “Promise to call me everyday?” 

“I promise.”

The dial tone kept ringing as Minho held his phone up to his ear. He knew it was late back home, maybe too late, but he needed to speak to you- to hear your voice before he got ready for bed. He had broken the promise he made before he left to call you everyday. In fact he had gone two full weeks and hadn’t called you in over two days, having been extremely busy since he got off the plane. He was exhausted but the only thing that would give him strength to get through the long day tomorrow was you.

“Come on.” He muttered, chewing his bottom lip. “Pick up..” 

There was a crackling as the phone stopped ringing, a scratchy voice answering. “Hello?” 

Minho could tell by your voice that something was wrong, that you had been crying. “Baby? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

You tried to hide your sniffling with a poor excuse for a yawn, “Nothing, Min. M’ fine just in bed. Tired.” 

He knew you were lying so he pressed a little harder. “Y/n, my love, please talk to me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“There’s nothing you can do to help, Min. It’s a me problem. I’ll get over it, I promise.” At your words he felt like he understood why you were upset, and it damn near broke his heart into tiny pieces. 

“I miss you too, my love. So so much.” His voice cracked as he professed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I’m so sorry.” 

There was no denying the pain that resounded in your cries when he revealed the reason for your sadness. “M’ sorry, I tried not to let it get to me. I should be used to this by now but here I am blubbering like a toddler.” 

“No, don't say that baby, it gets to me too. I miss you more than I miss breathing.I would give anything to be beside you right now.” He clutched the phone tighter in his hand, “I know you lie awake at night..” The singer was trying to find the words to say but his mind kept going back to his yearning for you. “I can’t stand being so far away while you sleep alone. My heart wants to come home.” 

“I couldn’t be selfish and ask you to do that.” 

“Then don’t ask. You don’t have to.” His mind was racing a million miles a minute, and the beating in his chest told him his heart was much the same. “I’ll fly you out.” 

There was a beat of silence from your end and it filled him with anxiety. 

“Min..” It came out as a whisper. 

“I’ll buy you a ticket right now. I can have you on the next plane out. I would do anything to have you here. Anything to be beside you.” He was frantic as he pulled out his laptop and booted it up. 

There was more silence from your end, but he paid that no mind as he looked up the next available flight. 

“Here we go, I know it’ll be a little early but there’s one departing at-” 

“Minho.” Your voice snapped him out of his rumination. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The company wouldn’t like it if I tagged along, they already have their reservations about our relationship.” 

He scoffed, entering in your information on the laptop. “ Who gives a shit what the company thinks about it?” 

“I do, Minho. And you should too. JYPE is responsible for your whole career.” 

“Yes, they are. But I’m also a part of the reason they make so much money.” His words were cocky and he knew it but he needed to get his point across. “What are they gonna do? Fire me? As if that would fly. And if they try to say anything about it then I’ll walk.” You went to protest but he cut you off. “I’m not joking, I can’t let you be alone any longer. I need you with me.” 

“I’m not alone, you're here with me. There are pieces of us both under every city light. We are never without each other, even if sometimes it hurts. We both fall asleep underneath the same sky, and we both wake up under the same sun. Separate but never truly apart.” You sniffled and Minho knew you were wiping your tears away. The ache in his chest was still heavy, even though the way you expressed the connection you share so beautifully had eyes welling up in his own eyes. Good thing you couldn’t see his face right now or you would have teased him.

His voice broke as he spoke into the receiver. “This hurt is almost too much to bear.” 

“I know, love. But it’ll be over before we both know it. I just keep telling myself that.” 

“When did you get so wise?” He tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, and was greeted by a small giggle from the other end of the phone. 

“One of us has to be and we both know it’s not you.” 

“Hey! I’m wise.”  The man protested.

Silence

“Sometimes.” He relented sheepishly. You both couldn’t help the laughs that escaped you both. “I still think it’s a good idea to fly you out.” 

“Let’s sleep on it, and if tomorrow you still want to buy a plane ticket we can discuss it further.” You suggested light heartedly, and even though Minho knew he would feel the same way then as he does now he agreed. “We really should get some rest, Min. You have a busy day tomorrow.” 

“You’re right, I will be busy.. Buying the love of my life a ticket straight to me. Mark my words, this will be the last day I wake up without being beside you.” 

I know it's a lil short but I am so happy with this little fic :') I hope you like it Amber 💝thank you for your patience

©doitforbangchan 2024

@jehhskz @ayejaii

[finelinevogue]

when in rome

summary - just a few random clips from a holiday to rome

word count - +3k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

a/n - can’t lie… this could literally be set anywhere and there’s no real plot, but i hope yous enjoy it all the same <33

at the airport

“Hey, give me that.”

Harry holds out his hand for you to pass over the suitcase to him, claiming that he should be the one to pull it not you.

You were originally going to have two suitcases, but it turns out that neither of you were packing heavy and so one suitcase it was.

“I’m not incapable.” You sigh.

“I’m not saying that. I would just feel better if y’let me pull it.” Harry plucks your fingers off the handle one by one, distracting you with a kiss as he does so to make it easier for himself, before claiming the suitcase for himself.

“I’m not gonna argue with you at this time in the morning.” You give him another sigh.

You walk behind Harry as he directs you from the Uber to the terminal door.

It is holiday time and you and Harry have decided on a getaway to Italy, Rome. One of the most romantic cities in Europe and famous for its history and pizza.

Harry decided that you would fly Economy, rather than taking the jet, because it was more practical for a bunch of different reasons that you didn’t really understand.

Hence why you are grumpy now.

You had to get up at 2AM, to get and Uber and be through security before your flight leaves at 7:30AM.

Clad in one of Harry’s oversized hoodies and gym shorts, your legs are cold, your eyes are heavy from tiredness and your body aches from the run Harry made you go on yesterday.

You rub your eye free of sleep and accidentally bump into Harry as he’s stopped.

Harry is wearing a similar hoodie to you, because he couldn’t wear his favourite one due to lending it to you, running shorts and of course a pair of sunglasses and a hat.

“Sorry. After you.” Harry politely lets an old couple pass, which is why you were stopped short.

He turns around to you to make sure you’re okay and smiles when he sees you unattractively yawn. You look like a small kitten who has just been awoken.

“There better be a coffee shop somewhere in here.” You say as you walk through the doors.

The airport is already busy with hundreds of people buzzing to get out of this dreary country and into hotter destinations.

“Also, I love your fans, but I swear to God if one of them approaches us this morning…” You say.

Harry chuckles, “Yeah? What will you do, love hmm?”

“Turn into the Hulk.”

“I feel sorry for them already.” Harry smiles and you hit him in his arm as a joking reply.

You stand together in a snaking queue to check in and then to get through security, until you’ve made it to the other side successfully. Also, without anyone publicly exclaiming that Harry is here.

You hold Harry’s hand as you walk next to each other out of security.

“Y’wanna get coffee first? Or find somewhere to sit?” Harry asks you, hoping you’re listening but he can’t tell because your hood is up.

“Dunno.” You say indecisively, beyond tired.

“Let’s go find somewhere and then I’ll go get us coffees, yeah? You can just sit and look pretty.” He squeezes your hand.

“No. I wanna stay with you.” You wrap your other hand around his forearm and hold him close, pressing your face against his arm also.

“Okay, okay. Well let’s go this way then.”

Harry directs you to the coffee bar and you both stand in another queue as you wait to order.

“Y’want your usual?” Harry asks and you nod.

When Harry’s called over, he makes sure to bring you with him and scans the bakery section one more time.

“Hi honey! What can I get for you?” The woman behind the counter asks.

“Morning. Hi. Um, can we have one croissant, one pain au chocolat, one black coffee and one latte with a shot of caramel please. Thank you.”

As Harry pays on your shared bank card, you thank him with a small voice.

“Thank you.” You hug into his arm more.

“It’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head. He wants to kiss your lips, but he also wants to remain as PG as possible in such a public space just in case someone is secretly filming.

After you’ve collected your order, you go and find a table to sit at. You find a small booth that overlooks the runway, so you can watch the planes take off. Harry knows it’s one of your favourite things to do in an airport, so he chose this spot on purpose.

You make small talk as you eat, both of you sat on the same side of the booth so that you can lean on Harry to rest once you’ve finished.

You talk about the planes taking off and your potential itinerary for the next couple of days. Harry just listens to your rambles as he finishes your pastry too, because you couldn’t finish it.

“Can I sleep on you on the plane?” You ask.

“‘Course y’can, baby. Think we have a window seat and a middle seat.”

“Can I sit by the window?”

“Yeah. You can lean on my shoulder if y’want.”

“Please. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, love, you know that.” He kisses your forehead again.

checking in

You get out of the Uber first.

It is already so humid here in Rome and it’s just gone midday.

Your hotel is right in the centre of Rome, just a few streets over from the Trevi Fountain and then a few more streets over from the Gucci store too.

Harry made sure to book somewhere that would be accessible to the majority of everything. Money wasn’t an issue. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you it Harry even booked the most expensive hotel in Rome.

The porter greets you and takes your suitcase for you. Harry tops the driver and thanks him with the Italian he’s been learning.

Harry takes your hand as you walk inside, thankful for the air conditioning in the building.

“Buonjiorno.” The man behind the desk greets you.

“Buonjiorno.” Harry replies. “We’re here to check in?”

You were a little early but decided you would try to check in anyways.

“Of course. Name, please?”

“Styles.”

“Both of you?”

“Yes.” Harry can’t help but smirk as he speaks. You nudge him, because you feel the same way.

“I have… Uh, Y/N Styles and Harry Styles?”

“Sí.” Harry nods.

“For 4 nights?”

“Sí.”

“Okay.” The man shuffles around some papers and types some things on the computer. “So your room number is 406. This is the fourth floor. You can take the lift up, which is just over there. Breakfast is included, which will be on the terrace between 7 and 10.”

“Amazing.” You smile for what feels like the first time since landing.

You’ve been so tired that you have found it hard to keep your eyes open and pretend like you’re alive.

“The pool is on the roof and will be open 7AM until midnight. The gym facilities are open all the time. Room service is three euros per call. These are your key cards and we hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Grazie.”

“Grazie.” You and Harry both thank the man and make your way over to the lift.

A few minutes later and Harry is opening your hotel room door.

You step inside and immediately fall in love. It’s decorated with marble floors and high ceilings with gorgeous artwork - probably that inspired of the Sistine Chapel.

The bed is a large queen size bed with lots of pillows and comforters. There’s a long chair at the foot of the bed and a sofa just across from that.

The most captivating thing about the room is the three sets of french doors, which all open onto a small balcony. There’s sheer curtains draped over the ceiling length doors, softly blowing in the wind.

Beyond that is the view that money did actually buy.

A view of the majority of Rome. You could see St Peters perfectly and Harry mentioned that the sun set will be visible from this room too. All the small buildings below and the little people on their way to work or tourists wandering.

“And?” Harry prompts.

“And what?” You twirl around to see him wandering over, after having shut the door and abandoned the suitcase.

“Is this okay?”

“Is that a serious question?” You raise your eyebrows.

You open your arms as Harry walks into you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. He breathes you in and squeezes you tight and you follow suit.

“Mm. Want you to have the best time.”

“Harry, babe, this is perfect. More than perfect. Thank you for everything.” Your voice is muffled by speaking into Harry’s jumper.

Harry kisses you on the head a couple of times.

“Do y’want to go for a nap and then go have a wander?”

“Yes please.”

“M’kay.”

It doesn’t take you both long to get comfortable in the bed. Harry opens a door to let in a better breeze and the air con is on full to make sure you don’t overheat.

Harry lays behind you, where you’re laying on your side. Your hood is off now, because Harry likes to lean his face into your neck when you sleep. He likes to breathe in your homely scent and warmth.

His hand lays on your stomach, underneath his jumper, and rubs little circles with his fingers.

You start giggling and Harry asks what’s up with you.

“Tickles.” You hum softly, quite relaxed by the funny feeling.

“Does it now? Y’skins so soft, so I can’t help myself.”

“Won’t be soft forever. Especially if you keep on trying to get me pregnant.”

Harry kisses your neck and leaves a little mark with his teeth. His hand spreads over the span of your stomach and holds it there.

“Won’t care. When you’re pregnant, I am only going to love you and your body twice as much.”

“You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it again when the time comes.” Harry cute you off from any more deprecating thoughts. “Now shush. I’m trying to make sure you get your beauty sleep.”

exploring back alleys

You and Harry walk hand in hand down a busy street in Rome.

It is so hot and humid that your bodies are so sticky from the heat, but you hold onto each others hands nonetheless because you are simply that attached to one another.

Harry leads the way, walking around the crowds of tourists and past random shops selling art and Rome tat.

He turns around and catches you admiring all the colourful buildings and wonderful Roman architecture, and he can’t help but smile at your wonderous face.

You feel a tug on your hand Harry’s holding and giggle a little when you feel him pulling you towards a back alley.

He runs a little quicker and you have to keep up with him. You check behind you to see if he is running away from something, but no one is following and you think he’s mad for running now.

“Harry!” You laugh as he makes a harsh right and pulls you down another side street.

This one bends slightly in the middle so you can’t see the street entrance either which way.

You don’t have the time to ask any questions before Harry is pushing you against a brick wall painted apricot. He holds his hands on your face and presses his lips hungrily onto yours.

You’re not only hot from the weather, now, but also from how attracted your husband is in this moment.

You groan as he steps forward so he’s leaning infinitely close into your body. You sigh when he moves his head to the side to kiss your better, cupping your hands over his to get a guide on which way he will move next.

When he pulls away you sadly pout.

He laughs at your expression and decides to kiss you again, even longer this time. He kisses and kisses you until you make the move to pull away, before you pass out from lack of breathing.

You laugh first and then Harry follows.

Both of you have never felt happiness like this. Just happy being simply together.

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what, baby?” Harry laughs breathlessly.

“I don’t even know.” You laugh, cupping his cheek and flitting your eyes between both of his as you try to decided which one is prettier. “I do know that I love you, like a lot.”

“Only a lot?”

“Well, like as much as the universe is big.” You give him a warm summers smile.

“Oh well that’s alright then.”

He leans forwards and seals his lips with yours again. You kiss him with all the love you have pocketed for him and don’t let him go until you hear footsteps approaching.

It’s a man and his daughter on their way somewhere.

As they walk past, Harry and you loosen your hold on one another as you don’t want to display too much PDA.

Once they’ve gone Harry giggles.

“What?” You ask.

“Just thinking how that’ll be me someday. Lost in a city with our daughter ‘cause I’m too stubborn to use a map and she’ll probably be distracting me with her gorgeous face she got from her mum…” He trails off.

“That was an intense thought, babe.”

“Mm. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Having a baby with you, I mean.”

“It’s been on my mind too.”

That’s all that’s said, but you both smile at each other knowingly that as of today you’re starting your future together.

dining out

Harry looks divine.

Dressed in an unbuttoned white linen shirt that sits on top of a white vest, with a pair of dark navy blue cotton shorts and his rusty old white vans, he has never looked so gorgeous.

It’s the subtle burn and tan of his skin that has you melting for him.

You are currently clipping his hair back with one of your small hair grips for him. He can do it himself, but he prefers it when it comes from you.

You’re both freshly showered and very hungry.

Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap is playing in the background as you both get ready for dinner in your hotel room. After walking through Rome for the day, you spent some time in the swimming pool together and then showered together before getting ready.

“Y’look beautiful, m’love.” Harry says, watching you through the mirror.

“Thank you.” You speak softly, cheeks flushing over his compliment.

“This red dress on you is just… it’s perfect. You look perfect.”

Your red mini dress shows of your legs that Harry admires so much, and paired with a pair of platform sandals you look like a model straight from Vogue.

“Feel pretty, actually.”

“Good. Y’look prettier than anyone has ever looked in that dress.” Harry knows how to charm you best.

“Baby, you need to stop complimenting me otherwise we’ll miss our reservation.” You laugh, finishing clipping his hair.

“Can’t help myself. So lucky you chose me.” Harry picks your ring finger up and kisses over the ring that symbolises eternity between you.

“I’ll always choose you. You are too handsome not to.”

An hour later and you’re sitting at the restaurant.

Harry pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before sitting in his own chair.

The restaurant is on a lovely little side street, decorated with fairy lights across the terracotta wall. There are ivy vines growing there too and the atmosphere is just peaceful.

There are a few families and other couples here too. It’s not a very fancy restaurant as Harry admitted that the best restaurants in Italy are the most homely and authentic ones.

The waiter was already fetching some water for you whilst you looked the menu.

“What are you thinking, baby?” You ask Harry, from where he is sat across from you.

“Maybe just a Margarita pizza.”

“Really?” You question his taste in food.

“Need something simple but good tasting tonight.”

“Okay, well at least get the bruschetta with me for starters?” You ask, wanting to share something with him.

“Sounds good, yeah.”

When the food comes, you feed Harry some of your pasta whilst Harry gifts you a slice of pizza. Both dishes are beautiful and cooked perfectly.

You both laugh and have the most amazing evening.

The best moment of the evening is when an old couple walk past you, holding each others hands.

“You two are so beautiful together.” The old man says.

“Thank you so much.” Harry smiles and holds your hand in his from across the table.

“Your love reminds me of ours. Precious. Forever.” He goes on to say and you have to swallow back the tears from how sweet his words are.

Harry smiles at you.

“Definitely forever.”

[nurse-floyd]

Broken Promises - Part 2

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Anon request: I wanted to make a request for an angst by Charles Leclerc, where they have an argument because he has been very distant but he doesn't want to accept it and end up saying hurtful things without knowing how to fix things later.

I took this request and ran with it deciding it would be a good continuation of this fic

Warning: mentions of crash, ICU and hospital stays. Angst with a sweet ending.

The evening spent with Max had been amazing, if you were being honest you dreaded going back to your apartment to the loud noise and people and just wanted to spend it by the ocean with him. He managed to convince you…or maybe it was the birthday cake that was waiting. It was definitely the cake. 

He led you back to your apartment and you managed to sneak back in, Arthur and Lorenzo had kept your guests entertained and told them you needed a moment. Turns out the break was exactly what you needed, and of course you were still mad at your brother but it didn’t matter tonight. You smiled as Max brought out your cake and you made a wish before blowing out your candles. The pair of you cut a slice to save to enjoy later when all of your guests had gone for the night. 

The next morning you woke up to a text from Charlies and your bad mood started all over again. 

Charlie: I hope you enjoyed the night, Arthur and Lorenzo said it was good. I’m so sorry once again. 

You didn’t care for his apologies. You were done with him and his promises. 

He must have seen that you’d opened his message but didn’t reply because the next thing you knew his caller ID was lighting up your screen. 

“What?” 

“Is that any way to speak to your brother, sœurette?” 

The tone of his voice just irritated you in a way only one of your brothers could. How could he speak to you like that after how he treated you yesterday. 

“What do you want, Grand frère?” You almost spat the pet name you use for him. 

“I told you I was sorry, y/n. Did you have a good time?” 

“No, Charlie. I didn’t. I wanted you there. You promised me. Arthur and Lorenzo were there and Max. The only reason I didn’t cancel was because he convinced me.” 

Charles knew there was no point arguing with you further when you were like this and he’d been beating himself up ever since he’d sent that text; but duty called. He had to work and he couldn’t get out of it, especially with how last minute his team had called him in. 

He sighed, “will I be seeing you at the race this weekend?” 

“Yes. Unlike you, I keep my promises. I’ll be there, but not for you Charlie. I’m going for Max.” 

“Y/n wait-” 

You didn’t bother listening to what he had to say, “goodbye Charles.” You hung up, cringing at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles. 

Max walked into the kitchen where you were sitting at the breakfast bar and kissed you as he passed. “Was that Charles?” 

“Yeah, just asking if I was coming to the race this weekend.” 

“You need to for-” 

“If you say forgive him so help me Verstappen,” you warned slightly playfully but also not wanting or willing to forgive your brother just yet.  

He held his hands up in surrender, “just, don’t give him too much of a hard time, he’s probably been beating himself up over it.” 

You knew Max was right, but still he’d hurt you. Two days later as you made your way through the paddock holding onto Max’s hand you decided to forgo seeing Charles, he was probably too busy anyway. You both made your way to the Red Bull hospitality tent avoiding Ferrari and Charles at all costs. 

Luck, however, wasn’t in your favor. Charles had heard about your arrival and seen it on his socials. He’d seen you in your Red Bull jacket and baseball cap, not a hint of Ferrari red on you. Usually you’d have a piece of merch from both of the drivers in your life, wanting to support the pair of them; but you knew this would piss him off. This was a final act of defiance to show how much you were still angry with him. 

You knew you’d gone too far when you saw a red shirt moving through the crowd of blue. Charles was in your face before you had a chance to react,  “Why are you doing this?” your brother asked. You’d never seen him look so angry and hurt; maybe now he’d understand how you felt the last three years. “I’m your brother and you’re not even supporting me, how is that going to look to the fans?” 

“To the fans? Is that all you care about? Maybe now you know how it feels to have your own sibling not show up for you. Besides, I’m not here to only support you Charlie, Max is my boyfriend and I support him too. He is just as important to me.” 

His face fell, “you know what? I’m done. Do whatever you want y/n but just don’t expect me to be okay with it.” 

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away. 

The few people who were around for your argument slowly went back to their business leaving you alone. Charles nearly slammed into Max as he left the tent to prepare for the race. 

“Charles?” He called but his friend ignored him. He turned back to see you nearly in tears and rushed to your side. 

“What happened?” he asked as he put his arm around you to lead you to somewhere more private, where prying ears couldn’t listen in. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just get you ready for the race, yeah?” You wiped your tears and turned your attention to him. 

You made your way to the monitors and placed the headset on your ears, standing with the rest of the Red Bull team as the formation lap began. Then it was lights out. 

Max pulled away first, closely followed by Lando, Carlos and Charles. They battled for first place as they inched round the first corner. It always made you nervous seeing your brother so close to the other drivers but thankfully they made it through unscathed. 

You could tell Charles was driving aggressively, the way he inched closer to the McLaren’s on the corners and pushed his car to the limit as he overtook them. You watched nervously, trying to focus on enjoying the race, Charles knew what he was doing. 

Suddenly, a gasp went through the room and time seemed to go in slow motion as Charles' car clipped the back of Lando's, sending it into a horrific flip. Charles’ car somersaulted through the air before it finally crashed down and skidded to a halt, only stopped by the wall. 

Your heart was in your throat as you waited for any signs of life. “What’s going on? Is he responding?” You asked as you all watched on in shock. 

“We don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You called back, you wanted nothing more than to rip the headset off and run to the Ferrari garage. You heard the red flag being called and the cars were called back to the garage, but your focus was on the screens as you watched the medical car rush to the scene. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but Max had made it back and was at your side. He walked you over to the Ferrari garage where you were met with red rimmed eyes as they tried to get any information from the track medics. Max could tell you were in shock. He kept tight hold of you, his touch a grounding presence as you waited for any news. 

One of Charles’ engineers made his way over to you and Max as he noticed you standing there. “The medics are with him now, he’s alive but he’s unconscious. They’re working on getting him out.” 

You finally let the tears you’d been holding fall. If it weren’t for Max holding you up you would have fallen to the floor right there. The race was called off, none of the drivers wanting to continue after that. 

You were in a state of panic, your breaths coming in short painful gasps. You wanted nothing more than to be with your brother. “I need to go with him. Let me go!” You cried. 

Max held you tight against his chest, his own face etched with concern for his friend. “We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll get us there, okay? He’s going to be okay. I promise.” 

“You don’t know that,” you looked up at him, tears still streaming freely down your face. Your mind was a whirlwind of guilt and worry. The last words you’d both spoken to each other ran over and over through your head. You couldn’t let this stupid argument be the last thing you both said to each other. 

When you got to the hospital, the news wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You wanted nothing more than to go into his hospital room and see him sitting up; to be able to tell him how sorry you were and how you hated fighting with him. The news wasn’t good though. Your brother was in the ICU, unconscious and his condition though stable was critical. You sat in the waiting room, your hand in Max’s as you waited for a nurse to bring you back to see your brother. 

Hours felt like days before a doctor and nurse finally approached you and Max. They updated you on his injuries and you were finally allowed to see him. Your heart broke as you saw him through the window hooked up to various tubes, machines and wires. 

You hid your face in Max’s chest as your tears fell once more, not being able to look at how broken he looked. You weren’t sure how you even had any tears left to shed. 

“I should have been there for him. I shouldn’t have said those things. He wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly -“ 

Max cut you off, “we all drive like idiots sometimes, it’s the nature of the sport. This wasn’t your fault. He knows how much you love him.”  

You nodded, knowing he was right but the guilt was still there. 

“Do you want to go in and see him? I can come with you or stay out here?” Max asked. 

You nodded and gripped your boyfriend's hand tighter as you both entered his ICU room. All you could do was sit and wait and pray. Pray for Charles to wake up, pray for a chance to make things right. 

You sat by his side, never leaving. You barely slept, your eyes fixed on your brother, willing with everything you had for him to wake up. As the days went by the news was getting better, the machine breathing for him was removed and he was showing signs of recovery, but he still hadn’t woken up. 

It was late into the third night when you felt his hand tighten around yours. You thought you had imagined it at first but your heart leapt when his fingers twitched around yours once more and his eyes began to flutter open. You jumped to your feet, tears flowing down your face once more but this time out of relief. 

“Charlie?” You called hopefully, your voice thick with emotion. 

Charles blinked against the harsh bright lights, disoriented but a small smile came across his lips as his gaze landed on yours.  

He coughed weakly, his voice raspy from disuse, “y/n?” 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Charles,” you reassured, smoothing his hair back. 

He looked at her with a small smile playing at his lips despite everything he’d just been through, “you’re wearing a Ferrari hoodie?” 

You let out a shaky laugh, tears still streaming down your face, “couldn’t exactly be representing Red Bull at a time like this.” 

He laughed, followed by a groan. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I am so sorry for everything. For my birthday and the fight…” 

Charles squeezed your hand weakly, “I’m sorry too. I should have been there, I promised and the fight at the race…I just wanted your support as well. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you.” 

“None of that matters now. I’m just glad you’re awake. I just need you to be okay.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll be okay and I promise I will make it up to you,” he held up his pinky which you linked with yours. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, your hand clasped in his. Max stood at the doorway happy to see his friend awake and the pair of you making up. 

As the doctors finished their checks and left the room, you sat down beside Charles, holding his hand. 

“You scared the shit out of me, you know? Why were you driving like a dumbass?” 

Charles let out a small chuckle, “not my finest moment, huh?” 

“No, but you’re going to be okay and that’s all that matters. We can figure everything else out later.” 

Charles nodded, his grip on your hand growing a bit stronger. “Yeah, we will. Together.” 

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Together.” 

The road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy for him but you knew he’d be back to racing and annoying you in no time. He was going to be okay and you two would work through your issues when he was better. That’s all that mattered.