#But seriously why do they want these two gone all the time?

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias

[sturniolocafe]

star shopping

summary: making music has been chris' passion for years, but is that passion enough to keep you to stay? (based off star shopping by lil peep) pairing: rapper!chris x feminine!reader warnings: angst, talks of depression, weed use, arguing a note from lilah 𐙚: hey so i'm sorry for this. (lowercase intended!)

chris sighed, throwing a green celtics cap over his hair and sliding on his sneakers. he knew you were going to have something to say about this, but right now, he couldn’t risk the loss of this new beat. he’d been hitting a wall with making his beats fit his lyrics for weeks now, hence why he was getting ready to go meet with his producer at 11:30 pm, spurred on by the “dude, i swear to god i just hit the fucking jackpot” text.

you raised your brows as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel on your head and plush robe wrapped around your body. “where are you going?” you asked, watching as chris grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“they need me in the studio,” he mumbled. “i’ll be back in the morning.”

“whatever.” you hummed coolly, brushing past your boyfriend (if you could even call him that) to get to your vanity. 

“c’mon baby, don’t be mad. this is the one.” chris insisted, trying to smooth things over. 

“i’m not mad,” you said flatly, smoothing your moisturizer over your skin. “just go. i’ll probably be gone for work when you get back, so i’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“baby,” chris practically begged, standing near your vanity, but not in your space so he didn’t upset you. “i know i fuck up. i know that i haven’t been a good boyfriend lately. i know you probably don’t want to end up with me, but i love you. you are so much more than gorgeous to me. i want to be with you for the rest of my life. please don’t doubt how much i love you.”

“chris, not tonight. just go.”

“i know i’m not worth your time right now; trust me, i know that. but i also know that i can work on it if you give me time. i can make this album and then we’ll be set, baby, i swear. just let me work on it.”

“you’ve been saying that.” you pointed out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat at the brunette’s words. 

“you’re losing your patience, and i don’t blame you.”

“chris!” you sighed, unintentionally slamming your eye cream down on the vanity. “i’ve been waiting for you to work on it for over two years. two whole rotations around the sun. i believe in you and i believe in your art, but i feel like i’m waiting for something that won’t come. it’s not paying our bills!

chris bit his lip, knowing you had a point. art couldn’t be rushed, but he had been in the process of writing this album for over two years, all while you single handedly paid the bills. the only time that the two of you truly had a connection was when you had sex. you’d look into chris’ deep blue eyes, allowing your hormones to take over and make you feel like maybe everything was okay, despite the fact that you two only had about one true conversation per week. 

“i know.” he mumbled quietly. 

“maybe,” your voice trembled as you began to argue. “maybe my friends are right. maybe i should break up with you. i can’t keep doing this, chris. i’ve worked my ass off to make sure we’re taken care of, and the way you pay me back is by leaving at almost midnight? seriously?”

“ma, you know i’m gonna make it happen one day,” chris pleaded. “as soon as this album comes out, i’m taking you overseas. we’ll go wherever you want, baby. we can smoke and stay in luxury hotels and-” chris was cut off when you interrupted him. 

“that’s what you want, chris. not me. i don’t give a fuck about weed or being overseas. all i want is for this, for us, to be a partnership.” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

for some reason, despite what your instincts were telling you, you didn’t protest when chris pulled you into a hug, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair. “i’m sorry, baby. i know i’m nothing like what you or your family or anyone else wants me to be. but at the end of the day, i would give up my life for you. you’ve given up yours for me. you’ve taken care of me during my bad days, you’ve supported me through everything. i understand if you don’t want to anymore.”

“chris…” you croaked out, voice thick with tears. “i love you, i do love you. i just…miss you. i feel like you’re never home. i miss us.”

the brunette felt like he’d just received a blow to the gut. how could he have been so caught up in some dumb album that he had ignored the most important thing in his life? “i know, baby. i am so, so sorry. i…” chris pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen, before he shoved the device back into his pocket. “i’m yours for the rest of the night. shoutout to everyone making my beats, but you’re more important. music’s what helped me when i fell to pieces, so now it’s my turn to do that for you.”

you simply nodded into his chest, not quite forgiving him, but not having the chance to argue anymore either. you didn’t even protest under chris grabbed your hips, lifting you off the vanity stool and carrying you to the door that led from your master bedroom to the balcony of your chicago apartment. like any large city, lights were still aglow on the tall skyscrapers and traffic honked below you, but by some miracle, you could faintly see the stars in the velvety blue nighttime sky.  

“all of those stars have a reason they’re here,” chris mumbled. “i hope i find that reason for me…for us.”

you hummed quietly against in his chest in your robe. things weren’t okay right now, they probably wouldn’t be for a long time, but you were too exhausted to argue. you knew chris loved you, you knew you loved him, but you also knew that you couldn’t spend the rest of your life waiting around for what he might do. 

a/n: yeoWCH....thank you for reading bbys!

[infamousbrad]

Y'know, it occurred to me a while ago that there's a reason why I'm incapable of taking trans bathroom panic seriously.

1971, 6th grade, I'm walking back to class after lunch and there's a crowd outside the girls' restroom and a lot of yelling. When I get closer, I see a group of at least 5, maybe 6 guys trying to shoulder their way into the girls' room, with someone helplessly trying to keep them out on the other side, clearly losing. A few people who are closer than I am try to intervene and get shoved aside.

The girl(s) holding the door shut screams something as the boys crash in like a pile of linebackers, just as the first teachers arrive. They do not rush for the restroom, they rush to chase away the witnesses.

I heard later that once the last of the witnesses were chased to their respective classes, the teachers went back and of course the attackers were gone. Two girls had been molested, one of whom partially stripped.

The investigation afterwards was laughable and short. No witnesses nor victims were believed when they said they saw and knew who the attackers were. None of the attackers were punished. Both of the victims were given out-of-school suspensions for "trying to ruin those boys' lives."

None of the boys were in girl clothes. Not only did they not need to be, they knew on at least some level that failing to be masculine at all times would open them up to exactly the kind of violence that they were going to inflict on those girls. If a man wants to assault a woman in a women's restroom, he doesn't need or want to surrender his fragile masculinity to do so. And in all cases I've heard documented, they've never done so.

[works-of-heart]

Lucien's lament

Bonus page!

This was inspired by a conversation with friends! @olenvasynyt shared something in which people called Lucien weak. It seems the community loves to dog on this man for how he does or does not treat Elain despite him being the most respectful of her needs and wishes! People forget that he's got the mating bond too, and has a voice in this as much as she does.

Also, the last panel featuring Gwyn lol! These poor red haired babies deserve all the love after what they've been through!

[simcardiac-arrested]

can we talk about no way back. hi . Hello ! i want to talk about this (-1 HP) drawing (-1 HP) that you've made (-1 HP)(-1 HP)(-1 HP)

Hi. um. what if the cracks started showing

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about dream daddy again and god brian makes me so mad

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[wonderjanga]

We Thought You Died?!

Billy became a hero in 1959, and he was a hit. He was extremely popular. Captain Marvel was a beloved hero. As for the Squadron of Justice? They were beloved too. They, plus Captain Marvel were the superheroes of that time. They were the flipping blueprint for being a hero, especially Captain Marvel. Then the bubble formed in 62, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth and everyone thought he died.

Then, out of nowhere, they just reappeared.

News channel: *showing a clip of Marvel*

Grandson: *tugs on Grandma’s sleeve* “Grandma, that looks like the hero guy the teacher are making us learn about.”

Grandma: “Amazing. He looks just like the real thing.”

Yeah… People didn’t really believe it at first. Though, to be fair, all the Fawcett heroes have been gone for over sixty years.

Old Man: “It’s disrespectful is it what is. Just because you have the same powers doesn’t mean you can dress up as a dead hero.”

Old Woman: “ I just feel bad for the families. To see someone dress up as your dead husband or wife and then go around pretending to be them? Disgraceful.”

It was then the Justice League got involved. They really couldn’t have these people running around like this. Not only that, but some of the imposters are lethal. Not to mention that there are people in the Justice League who used to know the Fawcett heroes. They were friends with them for Christ’s sake. So that’s why unanimously, they went and confronted these guys.

Supes: *hovering over Fawcett*

Marvel: *helps a cat out of a tree and sees him so he flies up*

Supes: *disapproving look* “I hope you know that if you’re trying to be a her—”

Marvel: “Oh my gods, your suit is awesome!”

Supes: “Thank you…?

Marvel: “Are you a new hero? What’s your name? Are you from Fawcett or are you gonna join us here?”

Supes: *computing, still stuck on the first question*

Meanwhile, Flash and Minuteman were arguing which then somehow spiraled into them getting tacos. Batman and Robin, and Mister Scarlet and Pinky are just fighting. And Bulletgirl and Wonder Woman had a civil conversation that actually got them a lot of information.

After sorting out the entire misunderstanding that they were all imposters, things thankfully got lighter.

Marvel: “Oh my gods, Jay, you’re an old man! What happened to your long luscious locks of beautiful brown hair?”

Barry: *holding back a laugh* “Long luscious locks?”

Jay: “Okay, it was not long, luscious, or beautiful. He just insists on calling it that to embarrass me.”

Marvel: “But it’s true! Or it was true.”

Jay: “No it wasn’t. I had perfectly average hair, thank you very much.”

Yeah, Billy met up with some of his old friends, and they were all ecstatic to see their eight feet tall, golden retriever who just wanted to make the world a better place.

Marvel: “So your not an hero anymore? Then what happened to the JSA?”

Alan Scott (First Green Lantern): “We disbanded…”

Marvel: “WHAT? Why?”

Alan: “Well, we were getting old. We needed to retire.”

Marvel: “Oh yeah.” *sounds a little bummed*

Alan: “I mean, there’s now this thing called the Justice League? Wildcat joined them. So did Mr. Terrific.”

Marvel: “That sounds like a ripoff of you guys!”

He joins anyways. So do the other Fawcett heroes cause they might as well. That’s when things go down hill once more because the JL are forced to remember that a couple Fawcett heroes, mostly Spy Smasher, kill people.

Batman and Spy Smasher: *tied up the Joker after beating up his goons*

Spy Smasher (SS): “Alright, let’s get out of here.” *pulls out a gun and puts it to the Joker’s forehead*

Batman: “What are you doing?”

SS: “I’m ending this…?” *cocks his gun*

Batman: *slaps the gun away* “No, you’re not. He’s going back to Arkham.”

SS: *pulls another gun out* “Yes, I am. Are you seriously telling me you don’t want to permanently end this guy? I’ve heard people call him a terrorist.”

The two then duked it out and the Joker still went back to Arkham anyways. Spy Smasher was so salty, not that literally anyone could blame him.

Marvel: “Wait, so people don’t kill villains anymore?”

SS: *sitting next to him, bandaged*

Wildcat: “Nope. Nowadays, you got to turn them into the police and let them break out again. I know it’s stupid.”

Marvel: “But what about the mass murderers? What about the Black Adams or the Captain Nazis? People who have done messed up stuff?”

Wildcat: “To jail they go. Why do you care anyways? It’s not like you killed any of your villains.”

Marvel: “Well, I didn’t, but I gotta ask because Smasher is trying so hard not to physically claw off his own skin at the thought of these guys just breaking back out.”

Safe to say, getting used to the modern world, took some getting used to for everyone. As for Billy, he chills with the gang at the old folks home, reminiscing about times as if he’s aged with them.

Also, like, genuinely, their disappearance would show up in top ten unsolved mysteries vids because genuinely, they just disappeared with no trace.

Billy also doesn’t know what to think of the many memorials he finds of himself and the other Fawcett heroes around the country.

[fum1ku]

LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

[sunsetchicane]

first kisses [CL16]

charles leclerc x childhood best friend!fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

summary: The one where you have to go back to your hometown for business and your past finally catches up with you.

warnings: kisses, angst, grief, homesickness (in the Noah Kahan way), friends to lovers; burning, pining, perishing! fluff at the end :)

author's note: Friends to lovers was on my mind, and this is what came out. Feedback is appreciated, so please share your thoughts/comments/questions!! Sending love! [xoxo elle]

^edit: Thank you all sooooo much for the love this has received! No one does it better than the f1 babes. Thanks again!!

*Flashback*

She sat at the end of an abandoned dock. The towering ships were the only thing around her, a pleasant, quiet company. Monaco was set ablaze with a burning orange glow from the setting sun over the hills that hemmed the city in. The water sparkled in front of her, shimmering and dancing freely. She found herself envying the ocean. When the ocean was calm, people loved it for its serenity. When the sea was charged and crashing, people adored its fierce energy. But when she was calm, she was chastised for being withdrawn. When she exposed her power, she was commanded to be quieter, gentler. So she envied the ocean for its freedom and beauty.

Footsteps padded against the sturdy dock somewhere behind her, steadily growing closer. She knew who it was before she even looked over her shoulder. Wiping away salty tears, she sniffed her nose hard. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

Charles studied her from behind, not entirely understanding why she was reduced to tears at her father’s venomous comment. He’d seen her handle far worse from him time and time again over the years. He couldn’t find a way to understand why this one got to her. It had her running from her house, away from everyone, and brought her all the way out to the docks in the bay. Something carried her out here, and he wanted to know what.

Her eyes were trained unerringly on the horizon. She was dreaming about reaching out to it and dragging her finger along it. She didn’t acknowledge her looming best friend. She didn’t know what to say to him, so she opted for saying nothing. 

Charles plopped down next to her, his feet dangling over the end of the dock. She rolled her eyes. He obviously didn’t pick up on the fact that she wanted to be alone. Typical. 

She huffed and turned her face away from him into her shoulder. Charles rolled his eyes this time. Girls.

For some time, the two of them just sat there, toes tracing lazy circles in the water below. The ocean spray hit their warm skin, infecting their senses. Slowly, it set her at ease. Charles waited for the ocean to do what it did best: to heal.

Once the sun had gone down and dusk settled in, calamity disappeared. She was feeling hollow now, and cold. Nights down by the water often became chilly. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she shivered. Charles noticed immediately.

“Can we go back now?” He asked, thinking that she might open up on the walk home. He was also eager to get back to his warm house. 

“No,” She said simply. It was the first thing she’d done to actually acknowledge his presence, save an eye roll. Charles groaned.

“You go then, you big baby.” She mumbled in response, tightening her arms around her middle. Charles’ head snapped to her with an incredulous look plastered onto his features. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and chuck her into her beloved bay. Maybe that would set her straight. 

While he was seriously contemplating his plan to shove her in, she leaned into him, her head resting gently against his shoulder. Charles’ eyebrows popped up in surprise as he eyed her in his peripherals. Her mumbled ‘sorry’ was barely audible, but acceptable for now. He knew that she didn’t mean to be moody; it was just a byproduct of a bad situation. 

“Your dad’s an ass,” Charles said stiffly, still a little unsure about having her head on his shoulder. The two of them had never touched like this before. It made him nervous. It made her secure. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, a weak laugh shaking her frame. Charles ventured a shaky hand towards her shoulder. When she let him cup her shoulder with his hand, he pressed her closer to him with a firm tug. She suddenly felt warm, the chill of the night cut through with just a one arm hug from her best friend. Best friend. Suddenly, it seemed an improper title.

“Wanna talk about it?” Charles whispered, his quiet voice floating over the dark sea like a ghost.

“No,” was all she could manage. A new flush of emotions welled in her chest. Her eyes rose to look at Charles through her lashes. He was the one looking out at the water now. This was her Charles.

“What do you want to talk about then?” he said, desperate to get her talking because this silence was getting heavy. He didn’t like the feelings that were stirring in his stomach. He was becoming painfully aware of how he was sitting, the way he smelled, the way his fingers rested against his best friend’s shoulder. Best friend.

She pulled away from him then so she could look him in the eye. His brown hair was swept off to the side, looking messy and charming. Charming? Had he always looked like this? Or was it just tonight’s high emotions that set her hormones into overdrive? Charles’ eyes fell on her, too. Her lips were puffy and pink, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. He swallowed hard.

“Charlie?” She whispered his name like a secret, folded up into a night they would never talk about again.

“Yeah?” He said, his voice low and reverent. He was waiting for whatever she was going to say. He found himself hanging off every word that fell from those pink lips. He would never stop. 

“I have a proposition for you,” she said carefully. She didn’t want him to read between the lines and end up ruining the beautiful friendship they shared. “Don’t get…weird.”

“Alright,” he said skeptically. She already knew that he was weird enough as it is.

“I think we should be each other’s first kiss. Just get it out of the way so we don’t have to worry about it,” she said quickly, firmly. She forced herself to believe that there was no ulterior motive behind her proposition. This was purely clinical, a normal thing. She didn’t want anything from Charles other than one simple kiss.  Charles reared back a little, slightly dumbfounded. He was unsure. What did this mean for them? Did this mean she liked him? He wouldn’t mind that. The thought was a new one and it made him nervous.

“Come on, Charlie. I don’t want my first kiss to happen with some random guy. Please?” Her voice was light on his ears, unreal almost. He shared her sentiment; he didn’t really want to kiss a girl that didn’t know him the way she did. But the thought of another boy kissing her finalized his decision. He hated that mental picture.

All he did was nod. 

With shaking fingers, she laid her hand over his on the dock between them. Biting down on her lip harshly, she stared at him. Charles gulped while returning her gaze. Time stilled around the two teenagers as they each leaned into their best friend. The kiss was simple, just lips against lips, but something about it sent up fireworks into the dead night. She was soft; he was nervous. Colors and light rippled across closed eyes. Chills ran rampant over skin.

When they broke apart, they were both breathless. Their eyes locked for only a split second before they snapped their attention back to the inky horizon. After a few seconds of complete, nervous silence, a giggle tore from her. Charles found himself laughing with her. 

Their hands stayed intertwined between them on the last board of the dock.

*Present Day*

As you stroll down the streets that you once ran through as a little girl, you can’t help the nostalgia that warms your heart and brings a flush to your cheeks. It’s been too long since you’ve returned to your hometown. Something has always held you back. First it was school, then traveling, and now work. Since you moved away to college, you’ve gotten very good at avoiding this place and the histories that it holds. Even simply walking along the sidewalks, glancing at the shops and people, you find yourself becoming lost in the overwhelming weight of familiarity. There’s a complicated relationship between you and this small nation you once called home. As dearly as you love it, you nearly choke on all of the memories and emotions that rise helplessly to the surface. Joy is always accompanied with sorrow, gain with loss. Quietly, you contemplate exactly how you’re going to walk in the precarious balance of it all.

The soothing summer air and the simple caress of a cool ocean breeze does wonders to help ease your burden. Monaco’s bay has always been a place of rest for you. So, as you approach your destination, you try to mimic the sea’s power and adopt its peace. Rounding the stone gate, your feet automatically walk you down a path that you’ve followed countless times. Trees and grass and stones are scattered on both sides of the paved walk. Slowly, your eyes track over the names, names you’ve read so many times that you can nearly count them off by memory. These names you know so well, but never the people they belonged to. No, it was too late for that.

Your footsteps automatically slow as you reach the far corner of the grave yard. Sunshine spills through a nearby tree, casting sunspots over her stone. Your mother’s name is carved gracefully into the marker. Shaky legs guide you next to her, kneeling before her. With reverent fingers, you trace the letters of her name.

“Bonjour maman,” You whisper. Tears well in your eyes as you rest your hands in your lap, cradling the lilies you brought to leave for her. A far too familiar feeling flutters in your chest, rising into your throat. It’s the sort of darkness that makes you cold even when you can feel the sun on your skin. Loss does funny things to you– things that never go away. It’s something that you live with forever, but it grows smaller and smaller until you don’t notice it as often. Or until you come home and are reminded of everything that once was and never will be again. 

Wiping at your eyes, you find yourself looking at another grave just across the path. The name fills you with the same feeling as your own mother’s. Hervé Leclerc.

You remember attending his funeral. Charles clung to your hand for the entire service. He was a mess. As he was lowered into the ground, Charles turned his head into your shoulder and sobbed. Everyone left, even his mother and brothers. They had to return to the house, but Charles couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. It was just the two of you standing there on the path between his father and your mother. You clutched onto each other and made a promise to never let go. And you never did.

Parts of you still clung onto Charles as if you were still those kids who played footie in the streets or ran around karting events like you owned the place. Even more, you lingered in the kiss you shared as teenagers. There was a bond that was formed that night that you’ve never fully understood. Your soul reached out to his and fused to it. You suppose that’s why you miss him so dearly, even after all of these years. Your friends say that you should hate him, despise him for not being the friend he said he would be. But you couldn’t. Mistakes and misjudgments and idiotic errors meant nothing compared to what you’ve both endured and shared with each other. Maybe you weren’t the best friends you used to be, or even friends at all, but those parts of you were still reserved for him. There was nothing you could do about that, even if you tried.

Sniffing and drying your eyes, you decided that you’ve wept enough. There are things to do and people to see. Pressing a kiss to your fingers and then pressing your hand to your mother’s headstone, you say a quick goodbye. You pull a single lily from the bouquet before gently leaving the rest at the grave. With sure steps, you cross the path towards the other grave.

“Monsieur Leclerc,” You say with a small smile as you reach down and leave the lily at the foot of his stone. Your fingers rest and drag across the rough stone as you stand to leave. 

Walking out of the graveyard, you feel your grief sling itself across your shoulders. But, instead of weighing you down, it holds you tight. You can’t help but imagine the hands of your mother and the hands of your best friend’s father reaching out to you, spurring you on. There’s always joy where there is sorrow. 

The walk back to your car is quick. The summer morning in Monaco is already bursting with life. People are racing around, elegant outfits thrown over elegant frames. Cars that are worth more than houses lazily strut about the curving streets. Towering buildings bustle with life at the beginning of a work day. The city is alive.

There’s a slow smile that creeps onto your face as you pull your sunglasses down to watch the scene unfold before you. So many lives happening all at once. You wonder what they’re all doing today, what stresses they hold or what excitements they harbor. Late summer in Monaco is a dreamscape. Sometimes, in moments like these, you wonder how you left for so  long.

While staring out at the business that’s swallowed you up, you’ve forgotten to watch where you’re going. A shoulder knocks into yours harshly, sending you reeling backward. Your heel catches on a loose stone, sweeping your feet out from under you. But, before you find yourself crashing to the ground, someone’s hands wrap tightly around your waist, catching you. Your hands latch onto their arms, trying to steady yourself. The person who both nearly threw you against the pavement and saved you from doing so, returns you to an upright position.

“Sorry, I wasn’t-” he starts while pulling his sunglasses from his face.

“I’m so sorry, I-” you begin at the same time.

The two of you freeze mid-sentence. Slowly, you reach up and pull your sunglasses off your nose to really take him in. He’s grown so much since you saw him last. He was just a little boy then, still navigating the tail end of puberty. His hair used to be longer, his face pudgier. Long gone is that little boy you once knew. He’s a man now.

“Arthur?” His name slips from your lips as you stare at him. His eyes sparkle in the sun while a smile tears across his face. At least there are some things that don’t change.

Your name bubbles from his throat as he reaches out and pulls you into a crushing hug. Lifting you from the ground, he spins the two of you in a circle. Being in Monaco was already hard to adjust to, but seeing Arthur Leclerc is a whole new level of surreal. 

When he finally sets you down, your hands don’t drop from his shoulders. It feels so good to see him. Your heart beams, painting your face with a smile so large it burns your cheeks.

“Look at you! You’re so…” you say, your hand reaching up to touch his face.

“Handsome?” he interjects with a wink.

“I was going to say old,” you answer, shaking your head at him. Same old Arthur. For another second, you just stare at each other. It’s been five years since you’ve seen each other last. Five years since you last saw any of them. 

“Come on,” Arthur says suddenly, taking your hand in his. He’s pulling you after him firmly while he weaves through the foot traffic that’s overtaken the walkways. Your objections fall on deaf ears as he hauls you after him. 

“I’m out to the shops with maman, she’ll want to see you,” Arthur says excitedly while leading you a few more doors down. He stops you in front of a small flower shop that you know well. It was always Pascale and your mother’s favorite. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that Pascale still shops here.

Wasting no time, Arthur pulls you through the door and across the shop floor to where Pascale is. Her head is bent over an array of bouquets, a basket tucked around her arm. She’s dressed in light pastels, her hair done expertly. The sight of her makes your chest ache with memory. Watching her this way, without her knowing you’re there, feels like a scene in a movie made from your past. How many times have you watched her shop or cook or care for everyone? This moment plays on a loop in your mind but with different settings, scenery, clothes, jobs, people.

“Maman,” Arthur says, his hand leaving yours. He approaches his mother, resting a hand on her shoulder. She wraps her arm around his middle, flashing him a smile you can’t see. Arthur leans down to whisper in her ear before glancing back at you. Pascale’s gaze follows his, confusion evident on her face. 

It lasts only a fraction of a moment until her graceful eyes meet yours. Time stills and everything becomes just as it’s supposed to be. You can hear the soft in and out of your own breathing, the thrum of your heart in your chest. Her basket tumbles to the ground, discarded so she can throw her arms around you. It’s the second hug you’ve received today that you never expected. There’s something endlessly warm and comforting about Pascale’s arms being wrapped around you. The familiarity of it makes you want to sob into her shoulder. 

“Oh, my girl, my sweet girl,” she hums into your hair, her hands rubbing up and down your back. The hug lasts however long she decides, her grip unerring and relentless. When she finally pulls away, she gives you two kisses on each cheek. 

“Let me look at you,” she says warmly, clutching your hands in hers while staring you down. Pascale’s eyes travel from your head to your toes and then back up. Twice. 

“You’ve always been beautiful, like your mother,” she says with a tsk. But you can hear the slight quiver in her voice. Your mom was her best friend. It isn’t easy to lose a best friend. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back, afraid that if you speak any louder, your voice would break. Staring at your mother’s best friend and the mother of your childhood best friend, there’s a special type of love you feel blossoming in your chest. No one could replace your mother, but Pascale did a damn fine job filling in where she could.

Pascale invites you to join her and Arthur shopping for the rest of the morning. As you travel from shop to shop, feeling 12 years old again, you chat amongst yourselves. The Leclerc's grill you with questions to which you answer as best you can. In return, they answer all of your questions.

However, there’s one subject neither of you dare to bring up: Charles.

“Have you seen your father recently?” Pascale asks while inspecting a tomato, disdain clear in her voice. 

“No, I haven’t heard from him since he moved,” you answer honestly, while tying off a bag of lemons to place in her basket. Your father was never that involved, always gone on business. When he was around, he was brutal and full of hate. When your mother died, he became so distant, you barely considered him your father anymore. The end of your relationship occurred when you finally left for college. You haven’t heard from him since, spare one time bothered to call to let you know he was moving to London. 

Pascale lets out a string of curses under her breath. It brings a small smile to your face. Pascale will always have your back. There’s never been a time where the Leclercs haven’t been there for you. They’ve supported you through thick and thin, and always made you promise to look to them for help whenever you needed it. You feel so grateful to be loved so fully by a family, especially when you didn’t really have one of your own. 

“You’ll come for lunch,” Pascale says as she finishes up her shopping. Your eyes dart over to Arthur’s. An amused look passes over his face, a classic, crooked smile lighting up his features. Sighing and shaking your head, you both know there’s no way you’re getting out of this.

“No sense in fighting it.” Arthur says while slinging an arm around your shoulders. You just nod in agreement while following Pascale to checkout. After hauling all of the shopping to the car, Arthur drives the three of you home.

The Leclerc house is just as you remember it. As you walk into the foyer and take off your shoes, peace falls over you. It’s as if you’ve stepped into a time capsule. The walls haven’t been painted since you were ten and were forced to help. The bright decorations and life that they preserve call to your childhood. As Pascale and Arthur disappear deeper into the house, you find yourself lingering behind. Eyes taking in every sight, fingers reveling in every touch, nose breathing deep the smells of the past, and between it all strings of history hang. Everything is a reminder of what once was. 

A chill cascades down your back as you round into the dining room and watch from a distance as the youngest Leclerc and his mother dance about the kitchen to put away the groceries. Their soft chatter draws a lump into your throat. How long has it been since you were in a place filled with words like theirs spoken from the mouths of people you love like them? As much as your heart aches, it also swells with profound comfort. 

Pascale whips some delicious sandwiches up for the three of you to snack on while you continue to jabber on about the last five years. Apparently, your frequent calls and letters were not enough to tide this woman over. She wants every last detail about where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing there.

By the time you’re long done eating, you’ve laughed so hard you’ve nearly cried, and fought tears back so desperately, a headache is coming on.

“I’ve got to go,” Arthur says after checking his watch. Your eyes fall to your phone to check the time. It’s well past four in the afternoon. Your eyes widen in surprise, not realizing how long you’ve been with the two of them. Your carefully planned out day has gone horribly askew. But, you couldn’t be happier. You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to see the Leclercs or not while you were here. Fate intervened and decided for you. 

Arthur says his goodbyes, kissing both you and his mother on the cheek before clearing the plates and disappearing into the kitchen. Pascale shifts in her seat to get more comfortable, signaling that she isn’t quite done with you yet. Smiling at her, you follow suit, trying to get comfy in your chair. Just as she opens her mouth to ask you another question, the sound of the front door opening steals away your attention.

“Arthur? Did you forget something?” Pascale calls out, a frown coming over her face. It was odd that he would come through the front door. When Arthur doesn’t answer, Pascale calls out to him again. Soft footsteps coming toward you through the hallway is the only answer the two of you receive. 

Silently, you watch as Pascale watches the doorway to the foyer. As the footsteps draw closer and then stop, Pascale’s face twists into a hundred different emotions. Her eyes flick over to yours once, then bounce back to the doorway. Confused, you start to turn around in your chair.

“Maman, I’m…” A familiar voice dances into your ears. Surprise turns you the rest of the way around, finding him standing there in the doorway. A rush of emotions bursts from your chest, making your fingers go numb and your head go fuzzy. The sunlight bounces around the room and splashes him in warm tones. His tousled brown hair, warmly tanned skin, and wide eyes look achingly similar to when you saw him last. Of course you’ve seen pictures of him over the years– it was unavoidable when he was the Charles Leclerc. But, nothing compares to seeing him standing right in front of you. Nothing compares to him seeing you too. 

“Charles!” Pascale says, bounding out of her chair to wrap her son up in a long overdue hug. Your presence has thrown this whole encounter off its axis. Shamefully, you remember that you, in fact, are not actually part of this family. Charles wasn’t expecting you and now you’ve ruined his surprise. 

You let your eyes fall from his, taking a keen interest in a specific crack found in the floorboards. Listening silently to the small chatter that passes between the mother and son, you feel suddenly out of place. It makes your heart ache that you don’t feel like you fit here with Charles now. Suddenly the house that was just full of life and memories feels cold and foreign.

Urged out of your seat by this sudden revelation, you stand quietly so as not to disturb the two people in front of you. Quickly, you go about collecting your things. All you can think about is how to get out of here as quickly as possible. There’s a part of you that wishes someone would stop you, hold you by the arm and keep you from running away. But that’s the wish of a fool, of a lovesick teenager. This is real life, and you know better than anyone that things rarely turn out the way you hoped they would. Hope is a dangerous game that you played for far too long. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” You say quickly, placing a hand on Pascale’s shoulder. She turns toward you with wide eyes. There’s a tenderness and worry there that makes you nearly stop in your tracks. There’s a question poised on her lips, the one that would make you stay here like you so desperately want to. But you can’t, you won’t.

“But I really have to get going. It’s been lovely to see you again. I’ll make sure to pop in and say goodbye before I leave.” The words roll easily off your tongue, but you know that you won’t be stopping by again. The looming presence beside you makes sure of that. You’ve barely looked him in the eye, let alone spoken to him, and you can hardly handle it. Coming here to say goodbye to all of them again isn’t something you could handle. 

Wrapping Pascale up in a warm hug, you hold her for an extra second or two. You’re not sure when you’ll be able to do it again, so you savor every moment. Kissing her on either cheek, you whisper one last goodbye. 

Finally, you turn around and are face to face with your past. His eyes are trained on you, relentless and green. There’s a small frown that paints deep lines between his eyebrows. His pink lips are down turned on a freshly shaven face. From this distance, you can smell his cologne and see the uneven rise and fall of his chest. You haven’t seen him in years– felt his presence like this in years. How can it feel like centuries ago, but nearly like it was yesterday as well? So much has changed and yet everything has stayed the same.

“Charles,” you say curtly, your lips coming to rest in a strained line. He blinks once and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something. However, he never gets the chance. You’re slipping between the two of them, all but sprinting to the front door. Quickly, you yank on your shoes, tear open the front door, and jog down towards the road. A thousand and one thoughts take over your mind as you begin your walk towards your hotel. 

Seeing Charles was the last thing you thought you’d be doing on this trip. He was always traveling for his job. Formula One took him all over the globe. But, in some cruel turn of fate, he ended up here, your home, at the same time as you. All of the warmth that had been swirling around you all day, slowly accumulating and healing you, dissipated in the blink of an eye. Even in the heat of the day, you felt frostbitten. 

Wandering around, you didn’t feel up to returning to your hotel room yet. Isolating yourself in that cookie-cutter, dimly lit room seemed like torture. Instead, you decided to walk the town once more. Walking always helps you sort things out. Whenever you were mad or frustrated or sad, you always went on a walk. 

The bustle in the streets allowed you to slip away for a while, unnoticed by everyone around you. For now, you were simply a cog in the machine. There’s nothing more freeing than being no one for a little while. You can let all of your cares and concerns slide away as you’re swallowed up by life. 

As you walk, you find yourself passing by a young boy holding the hand of his mother. You wouldn’t have cast them another glance if your eye hadn’t been caught by the bright red hat the boy donned. The yellow Ferrari crest sat atop the hat and the perfect ‘16’ etched into the brim let you know that this boy was sporting his favorite racing driver’s merch. He stumbled along with his mother’s hand in one of his and a toy formula car in the other.

While they pass you by, you can’t help but paint the features of a young Charles over that little boy’s features. He looked a lot like him. Shaggy brown hair, big eyes, and happy smirk constant on his lips. 

It was a little silly how much you thought of your past. You used to spend hours going over every detail, every happy memory, and every sad one too. Sometimes, you even thought that you might live in your past to hide from your future. But it stopped a while ago. You somehow started to turn it off, to not think about him or this place.

But it’s impossible to do when you’re literally standing in the heart of your hometown. Reminders of your past are at every corner. It’s inescapable. Memories are attached to everything here. Your past is intertwined with this place, these people. 

If you can’t escape it, you might as well embrace it.

You decide to head for the one place you haven’t yet dared to go. By the time you get down to the bay, the crowds have lessened. People are returning to their houses to eat supper and prepare for another work day. That means that the docks will be quieter tonight. 

The sun is slipping towards the horizon as you meander about the maze of ships and yachts. Soft splashing sounds and the glittering of pearly white boats surrounds you. This was the world that you were born into, of castles on water and seas and skies that glitter like champagne. However, you couldn’t feel more detached. You belonged here once, amongst these starlets and superheroes, but not anymore. Charles’ return made that all too clear. This was his world, his domain. Treading here was dangerous, a promise to slip back into the past. 

Slipping further down the dock, you make your way toward the place you’d always come to sit. Just as you’re about to turn down the row, your eyes catch on a figure already sitting at the very end. His arms are out behind him, his head leaned back while his legs dangle off the edge of the dock. He’s off to the right side. He always sat on the right side. 

It’s undoubtedly Charles. You could tell from a mile away. It’s the way he holds himself, the way he slouches, the way his hair tosses in the wind. Your heart constricts in your chest as you see him sitting there in a spot that was only ever meant for the two of you. 

Slowly, you make your way down the dock. He’s been waiting for you here. What that means, you have no idea. But one thing is certain, he wants to see you, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

Without a word, you sit down next to him, letting your feet hang over the water. He doesn’t look at you, nor you at him. Instead, you both just look out over the water in silence. This is what you were both practiced at. When there was something to be said, but no one knew how to say it, this is what you did. There’s something about the sea that always helped figure things out, it always healed the hurt. Maybe it will do the same today as it did in the past. 

Closing your eyes, you breathe in the smell of the bay. You’ve always loved the ocean, it’s power and beauty. When you were just a girl, you were jealous of it. You remember those feelings well. A little girl’s jealousy. But still, there was truth to it. You wish desperately for the power of the ocean now, as you sit here with the embodiment of your past. You hope endlessly for its serenity as you battle the emotions inside of you. 

Cracking your eyes open again, you dare to turn your head towards your old best friend. Surprise ripples through you when you find him already looking at you. Your eyes lock and it’s finally time to face him. 

For the first time in five years, you really let yourself study him. His hair is long, but styled well. It suits him. His eyes are bright, but not entirely joyful. There are new lines and spots on his face, showing that he’s growing up. There’s a pleasant amount of stubble on his jaw. His lips are still pink and lovely. His neck has grown large due to his occupation, along with all of his other muscles.

Your mind flicks back to that night on the dock where you shared your first kiss. That little teenage boy you used to know has grown into this gorgeous man that sits in front of you. He’s not just physically fuller, he’s larger than life. It feels nearly impossible that this is the Charles that you once knew, the Charles that you once loved. 

“I knew you’d come out here eventually,” Charles says, his lips tilting up into a half-hearted smile. One of his dimples pops for just a second before falling away again. The sight is so familiar it makes your heart race. 

Clenching your jaw, you just nod. What are you supposed to say to him? There are a million things poised on your lips, but you can’t bring yourself to voice any of them. Fear of the answers to your questions holds you back.

“Want to talk about it?” Charles says coyly, a shy smile playing across his mouth as he tilts his head to the side. This pulls a small laugh from you. He’s quoting himself from all those years ago when you sat here together. You’d stormed out of your house when your dad did something or other and ended up here. It was the night that you kissed. It was the night you fell in love with my best friend. 

“No,” You answer with a small smile, now quoting yourself. Charles sighs while shaking his head. Your name rolls off his tongue and it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re both teenagers with both parents still alive and big dreams waiting out on the horizon. Enamored as ever, you look him deep in the eyes. 

With one last deep breath of ocean air, you take the plunge.

“You never gave me a reason.” A simple sentence that means everything.

When his father died, he was still working on getting an F1 contract. He had lied to his father on his deathbed about signing with Ferrari. He was so torn up about it that his entrance into F1 was tainted. He became obsessed and threw himself into the sport with everything he had. For a while, there was nothing but racing for him. Charles wasn’t Charles for a long time. 

When he started racing in F1 for Alfa Romeo, you were left behind. Contact fizzled out until one day he was just completely gone. He never called, never responded to any of your texts or voicemails. After a few months, you got the message and stopped trying. Nearly five years of radio silence and now here he is, sitting in front of you.

“You never even bothered to say goodbye.” Your voice is just a broken whisper. The breeze floating over the water whips at your hair and cheeks. Quiet sloshing of waves is all you hear for a while. Charles stares at you with glossy eyes. His mouth is slightly ajar, waiting for a suitable answer to come to him.

“I’m sorry,” He says, that frown coming back onto his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was lost and young and stupid.”

You hum in concurrence.

“By the time I realized what I did, you were long gone. I didn’t know if you’d even want to hear from me,” he admits. 

You think about all the times in the last five years that you longed for his call. How many times have you yearned to hear his voice? To see him again? Countless. Even in the several short-lived relationships you’ve had over the years, you’ve shamefully compared them all to Charles. There was never a day that you didn’t want to hear from your best friend. In all the hiding and avoiding that you do, there’s no way to skew the truth. 

“I missed you,” Charles goes on when you don’t answer him. You can feel him staring at you, but your eyes have strayed once more to the horizon. His admission to missing you makes you feel like you might fall over. The one thing that’s always torn you up time and time again was not knowing what he was feeling like going through all of this. There were nights in the very beginning where you stared at your ceiling thinking of him and wondering if he was doing the same. Your soul longed for him then, just as it does now.

“All of those letters you wrote to maman? She sent them to me when she was finished with them. I keep them in my journal that I take with me everywhere,” Charles says while leaning toward you. “I read them over and over when I miss you so much I can’t breathe.”

He’s read your letters? You think about all the things you’ve ever said in those letters to Pascale. You bore your soul to her in some, explaining your battle with grief or what shitty guy you’d been seeing. You explained your schooling ups and downs, as well as your careers. Your life over the last five years could be easily traced through those letters. And Charles had read every single one. He’s known you more than you’ve known him in these years spent apart. Maybe you should be mad at Pascale for giving them to Charles, or at Charles for reading them, but you’re not. You’d never hidden anything from Charles before, why would that stop?

A warm hand finds a home on the side of your jaw, guiding your face away from the horizon and toward him. His eyes lock onto yours. Silently, you wonder when he got this close. His fingers hold onto your jaw, not letting you turn away from him again. 

“I miss you so much I can’t breathe,” He says again, his voice just a whisper. It catches on the breeze and floats out to sea, never to be heard again. Your heart is hammering in your chest while your mind goes blank. Your body doesn’t register this as reality. Charles is here, holding you in his hand at the end of your dock in Monaco. This scenario has played out in your dreams time and time again. The love you’d hidden away breaches the surface, pouring from you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

“I miss you, too,” you admit freely for the first time in years. Your Charles finally gives you a smile that makes him look like himself. 

Now, as he looks at you, there’s clarity in his eyes. Those green eyes that you watched grow and leave and now return are calling you to him. You understand now that you’ve both suffered enough. There’s been too much loss for there to be no gain. Finally, finally, here it is. The moment you’ve waited for since the last time you sat on this dock so close together. It’s your time.

“Charlie,” you whisper into the evening air. He perks up at his name on your lips, his eyes falling there. Every inch of you yearns to press into his touch, to never let go of it. But you’re still unsure. There’s always been more than best friends for you with Charles. You have to tell him that. It’s been hidden away inside of you for too long. If nothing else comes of this, even if you two fade into oblivion, at least you’ll have said it.

“I loved you,” you say earnestly. “I love you.”

Silence greets you. His face searches yours for a minute, his eyes wide and unreadable. Terror squeezes your chest, an ache of admitting a secret kept hidden away for too long. Desperately, you wish you could look away from him, towards your beloved horizon. Maybe you could hide yourself there. But Charles’ fingers on your jaw keep you held steadfast in place.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says finally, his face inching closer. You nearly fall over at his words. It’s a tease at what you once said to him right here, all those years ago. He remembers everything. Just like you. 

“But don’t get weird,” he quips, a smile coming across his face just before he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips to yours. You return his smile and accept his kiss. His fingers are strong on your jaw as he pulls you in deeper. The caress of his lips on yours and the rub of his stubble feels heavenly. As many times as you can imagine a moment, it never compares to the real thing. Wild dreams and fantasies don’t even touch having Charles’ skin on yours. 

His free hand drifts down to your waist, bringing you in closer. His touch is needy, his kiss ravenous. It conveys years of desperation from both of you. Not only does it light up this moment, but it brings new life to your intertwined past. Years upon years of spending days and nights together all come down to this moment. This is where two pasts that danced around each other merge into one new life.

The sparks that fly off of the two of you bound over the water, reaching the horizon and further. The city that you were born in, the boy you were born for, and the life you were destined to discover, all wrap their arms around you at once. Finally, for the first time in years, you feel at home.

Charles hauls you onto his lap, his hands strong against your waist. Pulling away from the second kiss you’ve ever shared, you’re sure it won’t be the last. No, there’s a lifetime of moments like these ahead of you.

Charles rests his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged mimicking your own. His eyes are shut as he runs his hands up and down your back. Sighing, you lean into his touch.

“I love you, too,” He says after a few minutes of silence. “Always have.” 

A lump rises in your throat as tears rush to your closed eyes. Even after five years of suffering, you can’t help but forgive him. These five years that you’ve spent apart have grown you both into the people you are today. Call it fate, destiny, divine intervention, whatever it may be, but something tore you apart so one day you could be together again. There was healing that needed to happen in both of you while you were separated. But now there was healing to be done together.

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” you can’t help but tease, your voice watery. Charles’ laugh vibrates against your hands that are pressed to his chest. He opens his eyes to look at you. His eyes are tearlined but finally filled with that joy that you’ve been desperate to see. He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted. You’re his biggest dream.

He pulls you into another searing kiss. Fireworks dance behind your eyelids as he clutches onto you. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open in a gasp. He tightens his arms around your waist, so you think he’s pulling you closer. But instead, he’s grabbing onto you as tightly as possible so you can’t fight him as he leans forward off the dock. The two of you roll off the front of the dock, splashing into the summertime sea.

When you bob up to the surface, you find Charles treading water. He’s laughing so hard that he’s barely staying afloat. For a split second, you allow yourself to enjoy the view. He’s completely doused, his light colored shirt plastered onto his skin. There’s a childlike joy radiating off of him. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” he admits while swimming over to you. Shaking your head, you splash him in the face as he draws in close. In retaliation, he wraps you up in his arms and kisses you so hard you fear it might bruise. Nonetheless, you kiss him right back, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Come on, let’s go back,” you say just as the pair of you are about to slip under water. Charles presses a chaste last kiss to your lips before swimming off towards the dock.

As you turn to swim after him, you cast one last look over your shoulder to the watery horizon. The sea really did what it does best: it healed.

[radiance1]

The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.

The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.

Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.

So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?

He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.

The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.

It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?

...

Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?

He'll give them some points for dedication, though.

Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.

The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.

----

Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.

For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).

It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.

Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!

He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.

And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.

Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.

It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.

At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.

So he answers and is gone with a pop.

Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.

Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.

Fuck.

Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.

So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.

The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.

Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.

The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.

Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.

[gravegoer]

Take a hint. ✿ part 2

part 2 finally!! im really proud of this writing. i had a lot of fun, and i think it brings a lot more depth to the story :) Part one HERE <3

my masterlist

sevika putting up with more oblivious reader!! this time, how does she react when her subtle ways of flirting don't get to you. every move she makes seems to bounce right off your head and land back in her hands !! [short little blurb at the end for the cute ending]

After your previous encounter with Sevika, you start to see her around more than you'd like. After having a few drinks with you and playing a game of cards (which you lost), you think you could even call the woman a friend.

You dont notice it, but she's gone soft. Specifically around you. Surprisingly, she didn't make you pay her for the forsaken poker game. Even more surprisingly, it seems as if you never had to drop a coin when you're in her presence.

Wanted a drink? It's on her. Ran into her when grabbing a snack? You just earned yourself a free pastry. Grabbing a ride home in the dark? She's got your cab. (And threatened the driver)

All of this in your eyes was simply nice deeds from a nice friend. In other peoples eyes, the undercities most threatening woman had been tamed.

She insists on walking you home after an encounter at the bar with the repeated saying, "I have nothing better to do, so I guess I'll do you the favor."

She glares at anyone who even tries to look your way. She knows you're a pretty thing, but she wants you for her eyes only. Obviously, this goes unnoticed by you as her nasty looks are sent over your head.

The people in Zaun are undoubtedly curious about your relationship. In a way, it almost scares Sevika, knowing that if the wrong person knows about you, you could immediately turn into a liability.

Having said this: she tried to keep her "affections" away from prying eyes, but she couldn't help but smirk when you asked questions about her arm or her job, even Silco, seeming genuinely curious. She'll answer with a teasing remark and an almost genuine smile.

Of course she does still have her guard up around you, only having known you for a few months. But one day caused her to be more vunerable with you more than she ever has to anyone since she was a kid.

A loud thud wakes you, its the middle of the night, what the fuck could that possibly be?

You glanced at your clock, the minute hand on 35, the hour hand on—two?? It was the ripe hour of two a.m., and you couldn't get some peace and quiet in Zaun. You almost rolled over to the other side of the bed before you heard an almost silent grunt from outside.

This prompted you to sit up and grab a jacket that was resting on your nightstand, still barelegged you made your way to the front door. The door creaked as you opened it, and you jumped at the sight of Sevika, on the ground, leaning against your doorframe. "You do know it's dangerous to open your door in the middle of the night to a stranger, right?" Sevika teased.

You panicked, "Sevika! What happened—I mean, why are you— did you plan on sitting on my doorstep if I wasn't awake? You're seriously reckless!" You tugged at her arm trying to get her up.

"Slow down, I just needed a place to sit and catch my breath thats all." She grunted at your motions, stumbling up but standing nonetheless.

"Catch your breath? Are you crazy?" You catch a glimpse at the blood seeping through her shirt, "Shit— are you okay?" You led her into your house, letting her plop down onto the couch with a grunt.

You told her to stay there (not like she could move) as you went to the bathroom to grab some bandages and other miscellaneous things you assumed you needed. You barely noticed your hands trembling when you opened the cabinet. You were worried. Extremely worried. I mean, you knew her job was dangerous, but like this? Damn.

As you re-entered the living room, Sevika was perched haphazardly on your couch, barely fitting with her size. She clutched her torso, where blood stained her shirt and dripped down her arm. You hurried over to her, dropping to your knees beside her left leg to move her hand and survey the wound. "Already on your knees for me?" She let out a strained chuckle.

You rolled your eyes at the crude joke, "Will you be serious?"

She went quiet while you pulled her shirt up and started to disinfect the wound. She hissed at the slight burning, but you continued. At a particularly tender spot, she grunted and grabbed your wrist for a moment but pulled away quickly.

"How did this happen?" You questioned, less shakey now that you had her on your couch, somewhat fixed up.

"Just some enforcers, trying to mess with Silcos people. He gave me the task of getting rid of them. The usual," She stared at you her gaze shufting to the goosebumps on your bare legs.

"The usual?" You muttered to yourself.

You motioned for her to scoot forward so you could wrap the bandages all the way around her exposed (but now clean) torso. If you were looking, you'd see the way her face contorted in embarrassment. But of course, you weren't.

"So...why my doorstep? Like, why not... I dont know— Silcos?" You shrugged.

"Silco? Seriously? You think I'd go to the guy who put me in this mess over you?" She scoffed, shifting in a way that wouldn't strain her wound. Then, she brushed her hand over your leg, trying to calm the coldness with the heat of her hand.

Humming at the warmth, you asked, "So what im hearing is you like me more than your boss?"

"Well yeah? You're—" She cut herself off when she caught your gaze, looking up at her through your eyelashes.

"I should go, I need to report back to Silco." She quickly gained composure again but made no move to get up.

"Back to Silco? Sevika, I think you can wait the night. You're hurt." You unconsciously leaned into her touch, her hand still resting on your thigh.

You got up, heading to the bathroom to put your leftover supplies away; leaving no room for disagreement.

You could hear her shuffling around outside and stand up to open the bathroom door. You open it to her standing closer than you expected, leaning on the doorframe. Her flesh arm balanced just above your head, mechanical arm on her hip.

"You're too sweet on me, y'know that?" The woman questions a hint of humor in her voice.

"Well thats what friends are—" She cuts you off.

"No. No more of that friend bullshit. Do you not see what im always trying to imply here?" She was now getting irritated.

"Sevika what the hell are you talking about?" Before you can barrage her with more questions she groans and clutches her torso, head falling onto her arm.

Your demeanor instantly shifts, now putting your hands atop her mechanical arm with concern. She pushes your hands away and groans either out of pain or frustration (probably a mix of both). "Let me help you." You wrapped your arms around yourself, sighing at Sevikas' sudden outburst.

"You've done enough. We are just friends, after all. You dont need to overstep." She started walking (stumbling) towards the front door.

You followed after her in frustrated strides, faster than her limping form. Standing in front of her, you blocked her path to the door, "Are you trying to imply we are more than friends?"

"No. I just said we are just friends? Did you hear me," She spoke shortly and with an obvious temper.

"Dont be smart with me," You pointed a finger in her face.

"I've been trying to talk you up, okay? I thought you'd notice, but i guess you're just as dumb as I thought you were," She stood motionless, waiting for you to speak.

"Wait..like the guy at the bar that you said tried to get into my pants?" You cocked your head to the side, making a face.

She almost growled at you, pushing you out of the way so she could get to the door. I mean, seriously? She's going to basically confess to you, and you twiddle it down to her wanting to get in your pants? She's no better than the guy at the bar, right?

Before she can even touch the knob you pull her by the shoulder, spinning her already weak body around (something you definitely wouldn't be able to do when she's at full health) and stared up at her. "I wouldn't mind it." You said a little too confidently.

You slid your hand down her mechanical arm and held onto her forearm. "You wouldn't mind.. me trying to get into your pants?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Yep."

"Alright." She sighed, sliding her human hand down her face, "I just thought you knew. Since you're always doing shit like that, " She motioned with a tilt of her head to your hand on her prosthetic.

"Like what?"

"You know nobody else wants to touch my mechanical arm. Especially in the way you do." You recall all the ways you held onto it when you walked together or tapped on it languidly when you're bored.

"Well, im not scared of you, you know?" You spoke somewhat defensively.

"Yeah. I caught onto that." She grumbled.

"Can we just go sit down and talk about this?" You sighed.

Not letting you pull away, she latched her other hand onto the back of your neck and pulled your head up towards hers. She bent over ever-so-slightly to meet you in the middle and pressed her thick lips against yours.

Her mouth tasted like a burnt cigar and something bitter, but you leaned in nonetheless. Your free hand gripped onto her bicep and pulled her impossibly closer. A grunt escaped her mouth at that and you realized she was still hurt.

"I'm sorry did I hurt you—" You pulled away.

"No." She lied, trying to pull you back in.

You retaliated and giggled at her eagerness. "Can I sit you down and make you something to drink before we 'talk' about this?" You quoted yourself, knowing talking most likely wasn't needed for the next few hours.

thank you for reading :) i have to taglist yet, so pleasseee specifically, comment if you want to be on it ! for now, I'll tag the people that have commented on part 1 so far !! <3 im slightly new to this, so support, tips, and reuqests are ALWAYSSS appreciated

@lesbo-tuliplvrr @luvmei

and i hope you guys like this as much as i did <33 thank youuu kissessss

[eternally-racing]

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he��s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 

“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

[c0llisiion]

SIN FOR ME — J.JK

Pairing : jeon jungkook + f!reader

Genre : smut

★: request, npr , cnc , older!jk , boyfriendsdad!jk , cheating, pwp , named!bf , misunderstandings , slight manipulation, unprotected sex at the beginning, protected sex later on , bigdick!jk , coming on body , cum eating , dirty talk , name calling/nicknames, slight angst — lmk if i missed any!

W/C: 2,919

A/N: thank you to pookie for requesting this!! I had a hard time with the plot 😭✋ but i had fun! Thank you sm for requesting! And also sorry 4 going m.i.a i have js been so off 👎👎🤧🤧🥺🥺 anyways enjoy!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[edited ver.]

Another day came to an end. A bad end. You were cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching whatever popped up first on your recommended shows. You were hoping to get some action tonight, as it’s been a while since you guys had sex. 2 months, to be exact. You were frustrated, of course. He hasn’t touched you or done anything to you for two months. That's the longest you have gone without sex. You tried so hard to push away the negative thoughts. Convincing yourself that he was just busy and tired and definitely not fucking some other bitch. 

 His parents wouldn’t be coming back home for a couple of hours since his dad is always busy and barely comes home, and his mom is most probably out with another broad. So You tried getting him in the mood. Wearing just a tee and some ck thongs. Rubbing against him. Kissing his neck. But nothing seemed to work. He kept pushing you away. ‘Not now.’ ‘Im not in the mood’ ‘im too tired, not today.’ were just coming out of his mouth like a broken record. But you still didn’t give up! You were determined, but before that- “im gonna go sleep.” You looked up at him, confused. “What?” “Im tired, alright? Im gonna go to bed; you can continue watching your stupid show by yourself.” There was venom laced in his words. It hurt you. Your heart sank. He pushed you away before walking up the stairs. You were trying to hold back your tears. How could he do this to you? You scoff. “Seriously? You’re really not even going to ask me to join you?” Your boyfriend turned around and stared at you blankly. “No. I want some peace and space. Do whatever the hell you want.” And with that, he walked away. You could hear his loud footsteps descend before a loud slam took over. 

You huff and try not to cry. It was too overwhelming for you, and you couldn’t help but think about the possibility that he was probably seeing someone else, or else why would he act like this? The waterworks started pouring slowly as you thought about the memories you made with him. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the empty, dark, and cold living space. 

 ————————————————————————

He was mad. So mad. Finding out that his company just fell into a major controversy after all he worked for was not the cherry on top. Jungkook hastily unlocked his house’s door. It was unusually dark. The only light illuminating the space was the soft kitchen light, which his dumbass son forgot to turn off. He dropped his case and trenchcoat by the door before kicking off his shoes and walked further into his home. He noticed a small figure face-down on the couch, sleeping. 

You were sleeping on your stomach, your head tucked in your forearm, and your hair covered your face. Your shirt was slightly rolled up, and your ass was on full display. Jungkook walked over and took a good look at your body. He needed something to pour his anger into, and so, assuming that it was his wife, he loosened his tie and sat where your foot rested. His hand went up your thighs before resting on your plump ass, cold fingers fondling with the soft flesh. He grabbed a handful before giving your ass a soft slap. He shuffled to hover over you. His hand cupped your pussy. Palm pushing into the wet hole, dampening your underwear. “…Gonna fuck you, okay, pretty? Just stay still f’ me..” His voice was low and deep. He was still under the impression that it was his wife. Jungkook’s fingers hooked around your underwear before pulling it to the side, exposing your bare cunt. He couldn’t see much, but he noticed how his ‘wife’s’ pussy was glistening in the dark. He circled your entrance with slow movements. Your cunny was getting wet at a quick rate. He swallowed thickly at the soft, warm feeling. Without wasting much time, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants along with his boxers.

Jungkook was rock hard. His tip glowed a deep red, and pre-cum was already dripping down his slit. Using his strong hands, he gently shifted your position so your ass was up in the air. He placed a couch pillow under your abdomen so you could lay comfortably. He hunched over your small frame, his hand gliding his aching tip over your glossy slit. He breathed heavily. It felt too good. Jungkook slowly started pushing himself in. He was struggling. It was easy to slip inside his wife, but this time? It seemed different. But familiar. Still, he continued moving forward. Maybe some miracle had happened to his wife. Who knows. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched your puffy lips swallow his hard length. You were still in deep sleep. The long crying session took a toll on your energy, so you were not really aware of what was happening to your body. Jungkook's breath gets caught in his throat as he finally stuffs you full. Your pussy clenching around his length unknowingly. 

Jungkook started moving. Rolling his hips gently. He threw his head back at how your sweet cunny felt around his length.  It was hard to believe that it was his wife. You felt warmer. Softer. And, of course, much tighter. Nothing compared to his wife. His eyes were squeezed shut, and short, heavy breaths left his lips as you continued taking him in. His hands grasped your plush hips, gripping the flesh tightly.

“Mmf-“ you let out a soft whine. Jungkook's tight grasp was enough to give you a bit of consciousness. Soft gasps escaped your lips at every thrust. Your stomach felt weird, and your body was getting hot. You were starting to sweat. “Junwoo… feels good…” you mumbled in your sleep. You felt something penetrating your sopping walls and immediately thought that it was your boyfriend. Maybe he felt bad and decided to finally give in.

Jungkook's heart dropped. No way. There's no way. His eyes went wide when you mumbled his son’s name. With shaky hands, Jungkook leaned forward and pushed the hair off of your face. Shock and terror spread all over his body. He stared down at you. His hand is still resting on your cheek. You were mumbling incoherently. You nudged your face into his palm. “Keep..going.. please.” You murmured. Jungkook gulped. He didn’t know what to do. He was fucking his son’s girlfriend! His thumb brushed the side of your cheek. He felt bad for you. He knew about the fact that his idiot son had been cheating on you for the past 3 months. How could he cheat on such a precious piece? He had to treat you right, even if it was wrong.

You were writhing and squirming under his huge build. Consciousness was starting to hit you. Your body felt hot and uneasy. The feeling was something you had never felt before. It was so much better than what junwoo was giving you. It was suspicious. You slowly lifted your head up, wanting to turn around and see ‘your boyfriend’. Jungkook immediately stopped and pulled out. He was still rock hard, and his dick hit his abdomen with a loud -thump-. He gulped heavily. You tuck your hair behind your ears and glance at the man who was fucking into you senseless. 

“What the fuck!!!!!” You immediately pushed yourself away from him. Cramming yourself in the corner of his Fendi Casa sofa, your thighs shut together. Your eyes first landed on his twitching cock. Oh, it was big. Bigger than his son’s. It was leaking too, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wetter. It was so wrong. So, so wrong. You immediately come out of a trance and look at the man in front of you. His shirt was open, revealing his built body. “I c-can explain-“Jungkook stuttered. “What the fuck mr.jeon???????? How could you just do that to me???” Jungkook's hands were up in defense. “It’s not what you think, y/n. I was mistaken too.” “Mistaken???? You just raw-dogged me???. You are fucking your son’s girlfriend!!!” Jungkook swallowed hard before looking at you with his dark eyes. “Like it’s not the first time i touched you. Be for real right now, y/n” he rolled his eyes at your reaction. “Yeah! Touched. You have only TOUCHED, me. Its a big difference mr.jeon!” It was true that you both fooled around here and there but that was before you started dating junwoo. And everything ended after you confirmed your relationship with his son who was once your bestfriend.

He was hard af and you felt too good to stop. So there had to be some way to get you convinced. It was about time he told you about his son’s double life. “Look. There’s something you should know. Your boyfriend or my son has been cheating on you.” He did not want to beat around the bush and just dropped the bomb. Your heart shattered, and you felt lightheaded. Your eyes went wide at Jungkook’s claims. You were too stunned to speak and just stared at him. It seemed like it had worked, which prompted him to slowly hover over you, pushing you down softly. “And I know about the fact that my whore of a wife has been cheating on me every day." He looked down and watched as his calloused fingers ran up the soft rolls of your abdomen before making eye contact with you again. “You need this, y/n.. we both need this…” the last 4 words came out in a hush. His words were so sinister, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you process the information. You trembled under his frame. Oh, you definitely needed it. You shook your head before grabbing Jungkook's loose collar and pulling him into a heated kiss. If your now ex boyfriend cheated on you? Might as well start fucking his dad again for revenge.

Jungkook giggled into the kiss and kissed you back. His hand found the back of your head before tightly gripping your soft hair. You whined into his mouth as it started to hurt. Jungkook kissed you further. His tongue tasting the insides of your mouth. He ripped your underwear, making you gasp and whine. “I will get you new ones, pretty, dw” he mumbled into the kiss with a smirk. His dick was rubbing against your bare pussy, making you leak. His hips moved incoherently. He loved the feeling of your wet pussy lip’s coating his length. Jungkook started aligning himself with your entrance, but before he could shove it in, you stopped him. You broke off the intense kiss. A string of saliva connected your lips to his. Jung Kook looked at you in concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You gulped before speaking up. “Protection… mr.Jeon.” You avoided eye contact with him as he narrowed his eyes at you. He let out a soft chortle before reaching down and taking his wallet from his discarded pants.

He pulled out a condom from one of the sleeves before chucking the wallet away. He was sitting on his heels and looked at you with a smirk. “Put it on for me, darling..” You nodded shyly as you sat up a bit and took the condom from his hands. You slowly ripped the blue plastic wrapping and pulled it out, all while innocently staring up at him. Your shaky hands gripped the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze before focusing on pushing the rubber down his huge dick. Jung Kook watched you with pure lust in his eyes. His hand went to the back of your head before forcefully making you look at him, causing you to whimper at the sudden action. “I didn’t know you were such a good girl, y/n..” He gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to him. Your legs rested on his thighs, and his cock rested on your stomach. The length sat comfortably on your plush tummy. “Gonna take me all, baby? Can you do that for me?” You nodded vigorously before slowly moving your hips on his cock for some stimulation. He chuckled at your reaction and hissed as he entered you slowly. now savoring each and every inch of your sweet pussy. You whimpered as you finally felt how big he was. It still hurt, even though he had already dicked you down. 

You stared at Jungkook's face, your eyebrows knit together and eyes swelling up with tears, your lips bitten down hard as you watched Jungkook's face contort in pleasure. Sweat dripped down his body, and soft grunts left his mouth as he inched inside you more. His eyes quickly glanced at yours, and he internally fumbled at your expression. Knowing that he was fucking you was making this experience even better. 

With a quick thrust, he was fully into you. His tip kissing your spongy spot. Your breath was unsteady and faltering as he had you filled to the brim. His fingers were hooked under your chin and you lifted your face slightly so you could meet his gaze. “Can i?” He asked you gently with a reassuring smile. You nodded at his words before grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. Jungkook's hands held onto your waist, keeping you in place. His hips started moving. Each thrust made him grunt loudly. His pace increased as it got easier to move inside you. Your gummy walls were spasming around his length, and he could feel your warmth. Your both eyes were fixated on the way his dick went in and out of you. His cock would form a small bulge in your lower abdomen every time he pushed into you. “You see that baby? You’re taking me in so well… fuck-“ he was cut off as your pussy clenched. You let out a whine at his words “s-sir.. faster p-please..” 

That was all Jungkook needed to hear for him to go absolutely feral on you. The way you begged with that voice sent blood rushing straight to his cock. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to go faster? I will give anything you ask, baby..” His thrusts got harder and faster. You gripped his shoulders tight, and your eyes rolled back as Jungkook hit your sweet spot perfectly. Sounds of wet skin slapping against each other were echoing throughout the whole area. Your moans are starting to get increasingly louder. Jungkooks quickly covered your mouth before leaning down and whispering into your ears. "don't want your boyfriend to hear how much I'm making you feel good, wouldn’t ya?” Tears streamed down your face as his dick abused your hole. Jungkook left wet kisses and purple hickeys on the sides of your neck, going lower and lower. You wrapped your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body as you writhed and twitched in pleasure. Jungkook's cock was ruining your pussy

“Fuck-“ Jungkook's voice got caught in his throat as you clenched around him again. He savoured the warm feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “Taking me so well little girl…” he breathed into your ear in a whisper. Whines after whines left your mouth. His girthy cock, grazing your gummy, warm walls. The grip on your hips got tighter, enough to form visible bruises.

His thrusts were quick and sharp, and it has you seeing stars. You could feel the knot in your stomach reach its peak. He grunted into your neck and lifted his head up to look at you. “Gonna cum pretty? Gonna make a little mess for me?” You nodded and whined as his hand left your mouth and reached down to play with your puffy clit. You choked as he started flicking your sensitive nub. “Make a huge mess for me.. I will make sure my idiot son cleans it up..” he gave you a wink before focusing on helping you reach your orgasm. He was almost close too. His grip on your waist tightened, and he continued pounding into you. 

“fuckkk!!!!” Your vision went blurry as you came all over his lower body. Streams of clear liquid coated the couch and his abdomen. Jungkook gawked at the sight, and he was so close to cumming. He quickly pulled out of you before removing the condom. His hand wrapped around his throbbing length, and he started jerking himself off. His head thrown back and mouth agape. “L-look at me baby..” he whispered, and you obeyed. Looking up at him through your dazed state. Eyes glossy, and your face was covered in a thin layer of sheen as you slowly came down from your high. Jungkook opened his eyes, looked at you once, and busted all over your body. Some of his cum even reached your face. A load of his creamy white cum never seemed to stop pouring out of his dick. Your stomach and shirt were stained with the thick liquid. You quickly wiped it off your face, licking it off your fingers as you stared into his eyes with a smirk. Jungkook let out a soft chuckle before reaching down to grab your face so he could kiss you. His lips met yours again, but this time it was more gentle. More passionate. He could taste himself on your lips. “Dirty little girl.“

A/N: thank you for reading!!! I was not rlly sure abt the topic because its the first time i actually wrote a cnc fic w plot 😭🧍‍♀️but i hope it was upto par!! Also if it seems like the plot gets lost somewhere please ignore 💀✋😨

Masterlist <3

!!

[prael]

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.