#I am. feeling things. i think that's what this is called
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Devil's Corner || S.JY
racer!jaeyun x rival's sister!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), food play - lollipops, exhibitionism (kinda), terribly described racing scenes, mentions of past trauma, anything else lmk! wc: 18k synopsis: jaeyun goes by a lot of names - leader of the lucifers, your brother's biggest rival, the number one racer in the south&west, and your non-boyfriend. on his birthday, you go to the grit track to wish him luck, not knowing your relationship is going to change forever. a/n: hi! i am not officially back, i'm still taking a break but it would be so wrong of me to miss the loml's birthday (although i'm early) <33 this isn't exactly how i wanted this to turn out so i'm sorry if it's shit 😮💨 anyway, i'll be back soon hopefully bc it's almost my one year anniversary. comments/feedback/reblogs are all appreciated and i love you all so much! happy jake day when it comes <3
“You know I can’t be here, Ireh,” you say, casting a wary glance around. “If Yeonjun sees me, he’ll lose his mind.”
“Will you just relax for like half a minute, please?” Ireh sighs, her voice tinged with lighthearted frustration as she tugs you closer to the grit track, the sound of revving engines growing closer. “He’s probably busy preparing for the race. You know how seriously he takes this.”
You dig your heels into the ground, stopping both of you in your tracks. “Girl, please be serious. We’re practically on the track! He could spot me in a heartbeat.”
Avoiding your older brother isn’t really in your nature; you’ve always been inseparable. You and Yeonjun are like two cubes of ice that no matter how much you whack them, they stay glued together. He always protects you, teaches you the ropes on how to navigate life even though there is only 3 years between you, and you would probably class him as one of your best friends.
Yet, he never wants you to come to his races.
Yeonjun is one of, if not the best illegal drag racer in the city. He’s built respect around his and his crews name - Thursday’s Children - TC for short. Initially, he loved bringing you along to the races, but that quickly changed the moment you caught the attention of the one rival he despises.
Ireh turns to you, exasperation etched across her features as she crosses her arms. “So, do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”
“He is not my boyfriend, Ireh,” you retort, huffing the words out for what feels like the millionth time. But she isn’t wrong - you are here to see the boy, and though typically you wouldn’t risk coming to the tracks and getting caught by Yeonjun, there’s a reason for the risk tonight.
“Oh? So what do you call a guy you’re so hopelessly in love with that you’re willing to betray your brother and sneak behind his back?” she counters with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Because you wouldn’t do that for a casual hookup.”
That’s also the kicker of this whole thing; since that day when you bumped into Yeonjun’s rival and the ban was put in place so that you never have to come into contact with him…you’ve actually been seeing him almost every day for the past seven months. Your boyfriend who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s Sim Jaeyun - the leader of The Lucifers, and your brother's arch nemesis.
It makes you recoil every time you think about betraying your brother, especially when someone slaps you over the face with it so blatantly the way your best friend does. It’s worse because as much as you downplay the relationship, you can’t deny that there is something so real between you both. As soon as you met him, you were instantly drawn to him - like a moth to a very dangerous and reckless flame.
To be honest, you vowed to stay away from any and all racers. Each of them is arrogant and too prideful, your brother included, but the more you spoke with Jaeyun, got to know him and all his quirks, you realised quickly that he’s the exception.
Jaeyun is ripped straight from the pages of a romance book. At first glance, with his sharp smirk and the swagger that comes with being one of the city’s top drag racers, he gives off that classic fuckboy vibe - a bit reckless, untouchable, with that unbothered arrogance he uses to get under other crew’s skin. To a lot of people, he’s just the arrogant leader of The Lucifers, quick to brush off his competition like they’re nothing.
But that’s only half of who he is.
When it’s just the two of you, you get to see a side of Jaeyun that he guards closely - trusting you with something he doesn’t share with the world. He’s patient and tender, his words soft and careful, and it’s almost startling how different he can be. He’s not performing or putting up walls; he’s just there with you, completely and wholly, in a way that’s so real it takes your heart a minute to stop making more space for him. If you were to say this to anyone else that knew him, or of him, they would laugh in your face - and Jaeyun would deny it in a heartbeat.
It wouldn’t be fair to say he hides his ‘real’ self from others because being the racer everyone perceives is also part of him. The intensity he brings to the track is genuine - it’s a part of his soul, he’s clearly passionate about it, loving the thrill and heat that comes from burning some rubber and shouting a big fuck you to his opponent. But with you, Jaeyun allows himself to be something more. He only shows the loverboy side of him in your company, being with you gives him a moment to embrace a side of himself that he sometimes forgets about.
Of course, he’s still cocky and boastful - he’s allowed to be; he’s really fucking good - it’s the main reason why he and Yeonjun are rivals in the first place. While TC rules the North and East of the city, The Lucifers hold ownership of the South and West, but both of them want to be on top - the best in the city, not just their turfs.
In Yeonjun’s eyes, the only one who could be deemed better than him is Jaeyun, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. So he won’t swallow it, he’ll use it as motivation instead, to beat Jaeyun in ever way possible.
Shifting your focus back to Ireh and ridding your mind of the thoughts of the leaders, you shake your head and let out the fakest laugh you think you’ve ever heard spit from your mouth. “In love with him? I am not in love with him. We’re just, seeing one another, casual, y’know?”
Ireh holds that knowing stare on you as you stand there, your mind battling with itself like it usually does in moments like these, justification and excuses bubbling up. “Listen, you can keep him as your ‘not boyfriend’ all you want,” she adds with a smirk, “but you know that label isn’t hiding your feelings. It’s written all over your face - even now.”
You’re an open book, what your mouth doesn’t say, your face certainly will and you’re more than sure it’s telling the story of your heart that you refuse to admit. For both your sake and Jaeyun’s.
“Whatever, let’s just go find him.” Rolling your eyes, you take her arm and lead her further into the pit of people.
It’s heaving with racers, pit lizards, and those just looking to have a good time and smell the fumes. The floodlights guide you to the edge of the track while you thread your and Ireh's way through the crowd, moving closer to the edge, where you get a clear view of the grit track. Out of all the places Yeonjun and Jaeyun race, this track has a special place in your heart. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it does have one element that outdoes all the rest; Devil’s Corner.
Devil’s Corner is infamous, a steep turn that has racers pushing their cars to the limit. They either conquer the bend or be conquered by it. It’s a sharp, merciless curve that rises slightly before plunging down at a nearly impossible angle, leading straight into a narrow stretch and to the finish line. So many have tried to beat it or show off on it - you’ve seen more than one car flip or crumpling like a smooshed tin can.
Luckily, both your brother and Jaeyun know exactly how to handle it, masters of their art being proven each time. You never have to worry about them too much when it comes to this track, they’re usually way ahead of whatever chump tries to race them, but a little flutter of anxiety will always be there.
You squint against the harsh glare of headlights, raising a hand to shield your eyes as you scan the crowd. Among the bustle, you spot Heeseung and Jongseong leaning casually against a car with the devil printed crudely onto it, looking entirely at ease in the chaotic scene. They’re two of Jaeyun’s closest friends and crewmates, so wherever they are, he’s usually not far behind.
Heeseung is the first to notice you, nudging Jongseong with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shoots you a welcoming look. The two of them are more than just members of The Lucifers - they’re practically family to Jaeyun, and in turn that makes them your number one hype men and the only others to know about your secret fling.
Squeezing her arm, you guide Ireh across the track and into red territory, smiling brightly and suddenly forgetting about the possibility of Yeonjun spotting you.
“Hi, boys!” you greet them warmly, letting go of your friend to hug them tightly. “How are you feeling?” Both of them have races tonight, though you could never tell with how nonchalant they both look. Going against TC always has higher stakes, but they don’t seem fussed.
Jongseong pats your head and smirks. “We’re chill, it’s only Gyu and Soobin, hardly competition.”
“We are shocked to see you though, doesn’t little Junnie usually keep you in a cage when it comes to TC Lucifer races?” Heeseung nips in.
“Well, I had to come and-”
“Support the number one racer on his birthday,” a fading Australian accent interrupts your sentence, his hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you back into him, your ass pressing against one of your favourite parts of him.
Jaeyun’s touch is intoxicating, a magnetic pull that has you leaning back into him without a second thought, any anxiety about Yeonjun’s lurking eyes now vanished. His hands drift up and down your waist, lingering over the curves he knows so well, savouring the feel of the skintight dress you’ve slipped into just for him. You can feel his gaze, possessive, admiring, and utterly absorbed into you as his fingers press against the sheer fabric at your sides, the warmth of his skin teasing yours through the thin material. He loves it when you dress up for him because he knows it’s only for him, not one of these other fuckers at the grit track gets to touch you the way he does, gets to see you the way he does.
Instinctively, he dips his head, his lips grazing your shoulder, trailing upwards in a slow, lazy path that sends a pulse straight to your core. His mouth follows the line of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that makes you feel like the two of you are alone in the world, past all of the noise and chaos around you. When he reaches your ear, he nibbles down and whispers, “Hi, Princess.” It’s a greeting as much as a claim, you’re his princess.
You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this is probably the most reckless thing you could do. Yeonjun could be here any second, his protective instincts would be kicking in if he caught even a speckle of Jaeyun’s hands on you. And yet, the thrill of it only makes you want to sink deeper into Jaeyun’s touch. He holds you firmly, his grip the only thing holding you up right now.
However, you need to let go, scared of the repercussions. It’s bad enough you’re even on this side of the track, let alone in the arms of The Lucifer’s leader. So you spin around, gathering your bones and standing upright, although they almost turn to jelly again as soon as you see him.
His hair is bouncy, parted down the middle with two strands falling effortlessly on his face, pointing straight to that perfect nose that you’ve had the pleasure of riding one or ten times. His lips are curled up in a small smile, so subtle only you can see before it turns into a full-blown smirk, his kissable lips so inviting as he bites into his bottom one. You love his mouth, everything about it; how it looks, the way it tastes, it’s magical skills when it’s in between your legs, all of it.
“Happy birthday,” you murmur, smiling so fondly at him that you know Ireh is going to have something to say about it later.
“Thanks. What did my girl get me?” he asks, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over yours, his bottom lip begging to be bitten and sucked on. Every time he calls you his girl, you swear you almost get down on your knees and begin to worship him.
Maybe you’re starting to see what Ireh and his friends mean about your non-existent label and what it should be.
You resist the urge to just devour him in a kiss as you speak. “I can’t show you it right now, not here,” you tease, poking your tongue out to wet your lips.
“Yeah? What if I ditch this race and we go somewhere that you can show me?” His voice is low and inviting, every word dripping with promise. Jaeyun leans down, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his eyes gleaming playfully. His hands roam up your back, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make you shudder, his nails grazing your skin ever so slightly - a subtle incentive to consider his tempting suggestion.
Before you can even nod, though, Jongseong clears his throat pointedly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “Actually, mate, you really can’t skip this one,” he says in a language you can’t understand, his tone heavy with meaning meant solely for Jaeyun.
Jaeyun’s grip loosens slightly as he pulls back, and you seize the moment to break from his hypnotic gaze, turning to face Jongseong with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so special about this race?” you ask, voice laced with curiosity. “What’s at stake this time, a car?”
High-stakes wagers are nothing new. Racers love to have some form of motivation and it’s not unusual for bets to involve money, cars, or something like territorial rights over parts of the city. And while you don’t know exactly what’s in play, the tension between Jongseong and Jaeyun suggests this isn’t just any race.
“Not a car,” Jaeyun begins removing his hands from your waist, and just in time too, because over the racer's shoulder, you see someone walking over with raw fury and intensity over their features.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun spits as he approaches, his aura red. The last time you saw him this angry was when you accidentally mistook his MSCHF boots as funky vases and put the tulips that Jaeyun had got you inside them. Of course, he didn’t know they were from his rival, but you did just ruin his £300 shoes.
Truthfully, they looked better as a vase.
Jaeyun’s hand still rests on your waist, firm and possessive, but you reluctantly take a step back, putting as much space as possible between you. You will yourself to look unfazed and relaxed, praying Yeonjun hadn’t seen Jaeyun practically dry-humping you just moments before.
Thinking on her feet, Ireh steps in, tossing a casual arm over Jongseong’s shoulder with a bright smile. “Actually, it’s my fault, Yeonjun,” she chirps, doing her best to sound apologetic yet unbothered. “I wanted to see Jongseong race, and I dragged Y/N along for moral support.” Her voice drops, filled with mock affection. “We’re dating.”
Everyone looks confused except Ireh, who is putting all those years bluffing to her parents about her whereabouts in the middle of the night to the ultimate test. They are easily fooled, but Yeonjun is not.
Glancing down at his ‘girlfriend’, Jongseong wears a look of uncertainty but also…happiness? You always suspected his crush on your best friend, this just confirms it. Like breathing, he slips into the role, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple lovingly - he’s clearly taking this as an opportunity to be close to her.
Yeonjun’s lip curls as he looks Jongseong up and down with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Slim pickings around here, I guess. I didn’t think you’d settle for a shit stain on the sidewalk.”
Jongseong’s easygoing expression hardens as he holds Ireh close, offended and possessive. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls, his tone a warning.
Amidst the brewing tension, Jaeyun’s hand sneaks to find home on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring. He’s careful though, keeping his touch just out of Yeonjun’s line of sight, but you can tell he also doesn’t care, not really. He would fight your brother in an instant if it wasn’t for you asking him to keep it in check. No one ever tells Jaeyun what to do - not the authorities, not family, no one - but he’ll make the exception for you.
“Get off our side, Yeonjun,” Jaeyun finally interjects and pausing the bickering, his voice low and steady, clearly unbothered by the confrontation brewing. He removes his hand from you and he regrets it almost the moment it happens, wishing he could glue himself to you and always feel your warmth.
“Not until I get my sister back,” Yeonjun retorts, the words hang thickly in the air as the rest of The Lucifers gather around.
Even the mere suggestion of you being taken away stirs something in Jaeyun, a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. Now that he has you by his side, on his side both physically and literally, he doesn’t like you too far away.
But Jaeyun’s lips twitch into a mocking smile as he crosses his arms and hides his true feelings, eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s. “Take her back then,” he scoffs, tilting his head with an air of nonchalance that only stokes the fire. He turns to you, smirking and hiding that beautiful boy you know behind the arrogance of himself. “If that’s what she wants.”
The ball is in your court and you hate when people do this to you - making you choose - and this is the worst choice of all. Jaeyun is giving you the opening to stand up for yourself, something he’s been slowly but surely trying to help you do throughout the seven months of seeing him, but it’s so much harder than he realises.
Betraying Yeonjun feels like tearing a piece of your soul away. The thought of hurting him, of driving a wedge between you twists in your gut. It’s not easy to reconcile the love you have for your brother with the undeniable connection you share with Jaeyun.
As the silence stretches, you take a deep breath, your heart racing. You glance at Jaeyun with sorrowful eyes, knowing you’re disappointing him with what you’re about to do. You take a step forward and stand by Yeonjun, looking down shamefully. You don’t dare look at the hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes.
And it’s there, only for you to see. He had truly hoped that this would say a big ‘fuck you’ and rid yourself of the shackles of Yeonjun’s overbearing brotherly role and claim the independence he’s been encouraging you to reach for.
In all honesty, he has been respecting your wishes and he’s content with that, but he hates to see you battling with it so damagingly. Your anxiety gets the better of you sometimes, your brain whispering insults and what ifs while Jaeyun’s lips are on yours,l. It’s gotren so bad in fact that half of your secret meetups have consisted of you sitting in his lap while he strokes your back, whispering petal soft reassurances to calm you down from turmoil.
Not exactly a five star date.
In some way, he wonders if the weight of it all is pressing harder now because you’re both crossing into a deeper territory of emotions that you can’t step back from.
“Ireh, don’t you dare bring Y/N back here again,” he warns your best friend, stepping in front of you, his way of protecting you but really he’s just locking you in the cage that he built. You can feel the heat of anger surrounding him and you feel ashamed. Not only are you in trouble but now your best friend is getting the blame for it. All because you can’t tell Yeonjun the truth.
Jaeyun pokes his tongue in his cheek and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s enough to make Yeonjun tense once again, narrowing his eyes.
“You want to say something else?” your brother grits out, hoping that Jaeyun will bite his bait.
Yet, Jaeyun simply raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a playful smile on his face. “Nah, mate. I’ll save all my talking for out on the track, yeah?” The tone of his words is light but there’s an underlying tension simmering as he stops himself from saying what he really thinks.
What he really wants to say is how fucking ridiculous it is to watch Yeonjun try to control not just your life but also those who have no obligation to bow to him. It’s clearly a trait of his - one he can’t get on board with.
However, the phrase ‘save all my talking for out on the track’ strikes you as oddly significant. You then suddenly remember Jongseong’s earlier cryptic warnings to Jaeyun about how he should stick around for the race and it all clicks into place.
Your eyes widen as you search Jaeyun’s expression for confirmation, but he remains locked onto Yeonjun’s fierce glare, the two of them engaged in a silent battle of wills.
Pulling at Yeonjun’s wrist, you draw his attention back to you, though his gaze never wavers from Jaeyun. “You’re racing each other tonight? Why?” you ask, concern creeping into your voice.
Of course, it’s not uncommon for leaders of rival crews to face off in races; it happens all the time. But the stakes feel particularly high tonight, and a knot of worry forms in your stomach. They haven’t battled it out since that night you met Jaeyun and that almost ended with Yeonjun crashing and Jaeyun turning upside down.
They have no limits when it comes to racing one another, and at the grit track, that can only mean bad things.
“Because Jaeyun here decided he wants this track to himself,” Yeonjun explains half-heartedly.
The grit track is TC territory, placed technically within the east side of the city, but its location on the very edge of the west makes it up for grabs - if they can win it. For years, The Lucifers have wanted this spot, the leaders well before Jaeyun took charge could never do it. TC leaders make sure this is the one track they’re masters at, no one is ever able to beat them on it.
Jaeyun’s smirk widens, and he steps closer, closing the space between them. “The track belongs to whoever can handle it, not whoever sticks their name on it and hopes everyone just plays nice.”
“I’ve been handling it, in case you couldn’t see that,” he chides back, not appreciating the jab. “Your old leader Mingi couldn’t handle it against me, that’s the reason you became leader, right?”
Yeonjun’s smirk is cold, knowing that mentioning the former leader will get the reaction he wants from Jaeyun - and it does. Jaeyun’s easy smirk falters for a split second, his eyes darkening with a flash of barely concealed rage. Mentioning Mingi was a low blow, they both know it.
Mingi is Jaeyun’s best friend and the night he tried to stake claim on TC turf, he ended up crashing the car, paralysing his body from the waist down. In truth, it’s the only reason Jaeyun is standing in the position he is right now, and he hates that fact.
He always admired Mingi as a leader.
Jaeyun’s voice drops, dangerously calm. “Say his name again,” he warns as the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But make sure you remember that if he hadn’t crashed because of your pathetic excuse of a trick, he would have this track, easy.”
Yeonjun’s smug grin only widens, feeding off the frustration simmering in his rival. “Is that right? Funny, because as far as I remember, it wasn’t foul play, he just couldn’t handle Devil’s Corner, and we all know what happened after that. Or maybe you’d like a reminder?”
The tension is suffocating, an invisible line drawn in the dirt between them, and everyone around senses that one wrong word could send it spiralling out of control. Jaeyun takes a step closer, closing the gap so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You better watch your fucking mouth, you know what you did.”
You don’t know much about that night, neither of the men in your life wishing to utter a word about it, but all you’ve gathered from the rumours is that there are two sides to believe; one in which Mingi was simply reckless on the corner, a freak accident due to his negligence, the other? Yeonjun and his crew planted a spike trail on the road that caused him to flip over and roll down the hill.
The rumours were never settled because the car took such a tumble that it eventually got engulfed in flames, the tyres melting and any evidence gone. It’s one of the biggest mysteries amongst the crews and only TC will truly know the truth, not that they would ever admit it.
Do you think your brother could do such a thing? Not in a million years, but you also know his competitive streak can cloud his judgment. Either way, you’re nervous about his and Jaeyun’s safety tonight.
Yeonjun’s expression hardens, dropping all pretences of mockery. “Prove it. I did fuck all, your pathetic excuse for a leader was just a shit driver that couldn’t handle the heat.”
The words are enough to push Jaeyun to the edge. His fists clench at his sides, but before he can lurch forward and connect his knuckles with your brother’s face, Heeseung pulls him back with a firm grip on his shoulder, speaking low and steady. “It’s not worth it, Jae. He wants you to lose it.”
“And I fucking will, the prick deserves it,” you hear him argue with his friend. It’s moments like these you wish you could just walk over to him and settle his nerves. Not in the Joey King in Kissing Booth way with the cliche ‘look at me, look at me’ vibes, but let him know that you’re there for him, that this urge to win and prove something might end up even more disastrous than Mingi’s fate.
While Heeseung and Jongseong tend to Jaeyun’s flaring temper, Yeonjun shifts his focus to you, his rebellious sister. “Seriously, Y/N, I told you to stay the fuck away from these races,” he has venom in his voice but that’s still lingering from the spout with Jaeyun. Towards you, there is affection and concern, his usual feelings towards you.
“I just…Ireh wanted me to come,” you lie, using the dark night and shadows from the floodlights to mask your growing nose.
“Okay, fine. You still should have said no,” he rebuts, suddenly giving you a quick glance over, “And why are you dressed like that? You never dress like a track hopper.”
It’s a little insulting, considering what you wear is none of his business, and that you actually do feel good in it.
You square your shoulders, meeting Yeonjun’s scrutinising gaze. “I wanted to dress up for once, alright? Is that such a crime?” you snap, your voice sharper than you initially intended. But something about his tone, so quick to judge, grates on you.
Yeonjun’s eyes soften just a fraction, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N,” he begins, his tone shifting to something gentler. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time. I just don’t want you getting dragged into this, especially tonight.” His eyes flick to the track, the pits where engines roar to life, and the crowd of people buzzing with dangerous energy as they wait for the next race. “You’re above all of this.”
A small pang of guilt tugs at you, but you hold your ground. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Yeonjun. Let me just stay to support you,” you lie again, stomach twisting as the truth sits, heavy and hidden.
Yeonjun narrows his eyes, not fully convinced but willing to let it go - for now. “Alright, but stay out of the pit. And if anything happens, you leave, got it?”
“Got it. I’ll keep my distance.”
Satisfied, he gives a brief nod, but as he turns back towards his car, guiding you over to the right side of the track, where you belong. You look back as you watch Jaeyun eye you up, saddened at your sudden removal, but expecting it nonetheless.
You guess you’ll just need to see him once this is all over, and both of them finish this race safely.
You hope.
_____
The sound of engines revving fills the night air as you stand on the edge of the track, patiently awaiting Jaeyun and Yeonjun’s arrival. Your nerves are unsettled and your mind is very much being represented like that one scene in Spongebob where he forgets his name and the little sponges in his brain scramble for the answer.
It’s been a long time since you felt this tense, you thought coming here and hiding would be the thrill of your night, turns out that was the most mundane - and unsuccessful part.
The crowd is bigger now, all revved up - no pun intended - for the race. The stakes are high, like really high and you can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be.
A thrill courses through the crowd, the anticipation tangible as Jaeyun’s car pulls up on the east side of the track - your side. While most of the TCs around you murmur, assuming he’s just trying to throw Yeonjun off, they couldn’t be further from the truth. Jaeyun’s tactic isn’t about intimidation; he just wants a final glance at you before the race begins, to see you in that dress that Yeonjun hates oh so much, and use it as motivation. He doesn’t want to show off per say, but if you’re impressed, it’s a bonus.
The intensity in his eyes across the crowd is unmistakable, and when he whistles, a slight, beckoning tilt of his head makes it clear he’s calling you over.
You look around to see if anyone noticed, and once you’re convinced they haven’t, you check your brother. Sure enough, he’s deep in conversation with his crew, oblivious as he checks his car’s setup.
Is it stupid to go over and risk getting caught? Of course. But Jaeyun has a persuasive smile and dreamy eyes to match. So the next thing you know, you take a deep breath, slipping through the sea of people, and make your way towards Jaeyun’s car. His smirk widens as you reach him, his hand already extended to brush your arm.
But you swat it away, half playfully, half serious. “What are you doing?”
“What?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t a guy get a good luck kiss from his girl?”
“Jaeyun, are you fucking crazy? Look who’s right next to you!” you hiss, gesturing towards Yeonjun, who’s still unaware, thankfully. You really appreciate his attention to detail in these moments.
“Princess, you’ve been sneaking around and bouncing on my cock for seven months now. If he hasn’t caught on by now, I doubt he’s going to. He probably doesn’t even care.” He says it so easily, like all of this has just been in your mind and not a real threat.
“Yeah? Tell that to the way he glared you down not two hours ago. Or did you miss the part where he wanted to tear you to pieces for even breathing next to me?”
Jaeyun barely flinches at the mention, a hint of a pout replacing his smirk. “Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t you think I deserve at least one little kiss?”
“Didn’t you already use the birthday excuse to get me here?” you counter, eyeing him with a playful twinkle.
“That’s for attendance,” he teases, leaning closer to you, practically hanging out the window just for a taste of you. “Kisses are part of the package.”
Unable to resist the temptation in his eyes, you check over your shoulder one last time before leaning in, brushing your lips against his in what should be a quick peck for luck, but he turns into so much more.
Jaeyun’s hand slides up to cradle your cheek, his touch warm and possessive. His thumb brushes softly over your skin as he deepens the kiss, ignoring the chaos, this stolen moment is the only thing that matters. His fingertips, rough from years of racing, contrast with the gentle way he holds you, drawing you further into him.
His tongue sweeps over your lips and you can’t help but groan and grant him access to your mouth, praying to the gods to get a taste of him. You’re greedy for him, ravenous almost, and he mirrors your need. If he wasn’t in front of at least one hundred people, including your brother, he would be dragging your pretty ass into this car and watching your tits clap in his face.
But then, like a bucket of cold water, reality hits as Jungwon steps between the two cars, flag poised for the start. You pull away reluctantly and savour the last few pecks Jaeyun plants on your puffy, lipgloss-smudged lips.
Yeonjun snaps to attention suddenly aware of your appearnce and his voice cuts sharply through the revving engines. “Y/N! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, his tone edged with disbelief and frustration. “I told you to stay off the pit!”
You jump, instinctively retreating from Jaeyun’s side as you stammer out a response, just thankful that he didn’t seem to notice how seconds prior you were getting your tonsils tangled with Jaeyun. “I was just…I was wishing you good luck!” You walk quickly, rounding Jaeyun’s car, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of the kiss. But Yeonjun’s face is a mask of exasperation as you approach his window.
“Y/N, get back!” he orders, eyes widening as he glances at Jungwon, who’s counting down without a care in the world.
Only then do you realise you’re directly between the two cars, and neither Jaeyun nor Yeonjun seems willing to delay the race.
“Three!” Jungwon’s deep voice booms, the crowd roaring as the tension builds.
Your feet feel glued to the ground, panic swelling in your chest. You know that chances of you getting hurt are slim, but you’ve never been this close to the race, so close that you can feel the heat from their motors swirling your leg like those snakes on Lucy Grey.
“Two!”
Jungwon raises the flag, ready to unleash it. The cars tremble with power, the engines growling, but your brain’s too scrambled to make a move. Jaeyun sees your tense frame and panics for you, scared of even a scratch on you.
“One!”
Suddenly, you feel a jolt - a car door bumps against the back of your legs, and before you know it, strong hands grab your waist, pulling you backwards in a quick, fluid motion. You land on something soft, but before you even realise what’s happened, Jaeyun’s arm reaches across to steady you in the passenger seat of his car.
“Go!”
With a salute to Yeonjun that’s equal parts taunt and triumph, Jaeyun hits the gas, and the world blurs as he speeds off, leaving your brother gaping in stunned disbelief behind you.
The wind whips through the open passenger door as you scramble to sit upright, barely processing what just happened. You feel like you’re suddenly on a rollercoaster, the car's oomph causing you to stick to the seat like the Sticky Wall.
“Can you shut that, Princess? You’re letting a draft in,” he smirks, too pleased with himself.
But all you can do is stare back, aghast. “What the fuck, Jae?! This is not funny.”
“It’s not, you could have got fucking hurt,” he tries to play it off as a joke but you hear the seriousness in his tone. When you look at him, you also see the slight fear in his eyes.
Jaeyun knows it was stupid to drag you into his car, but he panicked, what else could he do? All the possibilities swam across his mind like a reckless current. You could have gotten scratched up by the grit, swooped under the tyres with the sheer power of the acceleration…or worse.
Not all of these scenarios make sense, but the fear of losing you makes him think even the impossible. So if he can save you even from probabilities, then he will.
You reach over and such the door, the wind making it difficult as he rounds a corner. Once it clicks into place, you relax a little, breathing out. It happened in such a blur that you can’t even figure out where on the track you are. All you know is that Jaeyun is first, and you’re stuck in this race whether you like it or not.
Without taking his eyes off the road or his foot off the accelerator, he reaches over you and grabs the seatbelt, fiddling with it awkwardly to secure you in. You hate to say that you’re looking at the veins on his hands as he unravels it, but you are. You could be helping him and saving him the struggle but it’s just too fucking delicious to look at.
That distraction is the only thing stopping your heart from leaping out of your throat.
“Did you really think dragging me into your car, going a million miles per hour and having to survive the grit track safer than me standing on the starting line?” you question him, disbelief and mockery in your tone.
Jaeyun furrows his brows and lets your words sink in. “Well…when you put it that way, it’s dumb,” he agrees, mentally cursing himself. “But if you think about it, now your brother won’t pull any of his tricks. Not with his precious sister in the car.”
Now that embarrassment for his rash decision is turning into pride. Maybe subconsciously he pulled you into his car as a safety measure, after all, can’t be too careful around a bunch of TCs; not when there is so much at stake.
“Really? I’m a reassurance? What if he’s already planned something and you’ve just brought me to my demise?” It hurts you that Jaeyun truly believes your brother is capable of dirty tricks, but then again, you don’t have one hundred percent faith that he wouldn’t pull something.
Jaeyun looks into his rearview mirror and sees Yeonjun hot on his tail, probably filled with enough fury to power his car without an engine. It makes Jaeyun nervous, both your words and Yeonjun’s gaining speed, but he masks it under a laugh.
“At least we would die together. What’s that song? To die by your side-”
“Is such a heavenly way to die, yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs,” you admit, heart blushing that he even remembered it considering his playlists contain an abundance of Justin Bieber and other generic pop acts - he’s not really one to appreciate the Smiths. “But I would rather listen to the lyrics than live it out, Jaeyun.”
“I don’t see a double-decker bus,” he looks at you for a split second but it’s long enough that you see the teasing glint in his eye that masks his genuine concern, and weirdly, it puts you at ease. He would never let anything happen to you, you know that deep down.
You let out a genuine laugh and whack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, Jaeyun.”
“Princess,” he intertwines his fingers with you, a chuckle escaping his lips, “I promise, okay? You will get out of this car in one piece.” Jaeyun kisses your knuckles and it’s both stomach fluttering and impressive how he can handle a car going 80mph and still have time to dote on you.
The romance doesn’t last too long though, because he has to lock in and focus. Behind him, Yeonjun’s car looms closer, headlights glowing like the eyes of a predator. He’s tailing Jaeyun so closely that any error, even a slight miscalculation, could end it all in a brutal collision. Jaeyun glances at his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Yeonjun’s face, fierce and determined.
He figured your brother wouldn’t be in the best of moods with his act.
“You think that little gap’s gonna stop him?” you mutter, gripping the seat as Jaeyun expertly rounds another bend, tyres squealing against the track’s rough surface.
“Not a chance,” Jaeyun replies with a grin. “But it’ll take him a few seconds longer. Enough for me to play with.”
He shifts gears, feeling the engine’s deep growl as he powers down a straight stretch, his speedometer needle pushing higher. Yeonjun matches his pace, but Jaeyun, ever the strategist, swerves slightly, throwing up a cloud of grit in his rival’s direction. The dust storm is thick enough to obscure Yeonjun’s vision momentarily, forcing him to fall back by a hair’s breadth.
Jaeyun accelerates, barely missing a pile of tyres on his right. Just as he slips past, Yeonjun veers to the inside lane, attempting to pass on Jaeyun’s left. The corner’s coming up fast - a sharp, unforgiving turn with no forgiveness if they misjudge. Jaeyun catches on immediately, not giving Yeonjun the satisfaction. With a calculated flick of the wheel, he forces Yeonjun to either fall back or risk veering straight into the barrier.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t about to let him off easy. He falls back just enough to avoid a crash but quickly cuts to Jaeyun’s other side, inches away, daring him to swerve first. Their cars glide nearly side-by-side, matching each other’s pace in a tense, furious dance.
It’s so scary, being in the passenger seat of a car that’s almost buckling under the pressure of how fast it’s going. Of course, you knew this was not going to be like overtaking someone on the M8, but you sure as fuck didn’t expect this. The world is flying by you so fast that you can’t begin to comprehend how either of them even drives like this.
Your brother’s car pulls up beside you both and making eye contact with him is the worst thing in the world you could do.
“Y/N, what the fuck?!” you lip read, unable to actually hear him over the roar of the engines. He blames you so easily - even if it is 60% of your fault because you answered Jaeyun’s beckon - but it still makes you a little mad.
Did you want to be dragged into this? Absolutely not. All you wanted was to kiss your pretty non-boyfriend good luck on his birthday, you didn’t need all these dramatics with it; you get enough fireworks in your belly from his pretty mouth alone.
The sound of the engine thunders louder, Jaeyun accelerating and pushing his car beyond its threshold as he glides through the race. It’s all pretty intense - and oddly fun - but it’s not about to be in roughly one minute.
“Devil’s Corner’s up,” you murmur as if Jaeyun even needs the reminder. But he only nods, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, a spark of something almost wicked in his eyes.
“I know,” he says with a determined grin, shifting gears smoothly as he sets up for the turn. “This is where your brother won’t risk it. He’s too careful with the track; it’s got him wrapped around its finger.”
“Everyone is careful around this part of the track…” you half express as a statement while also hinting that it could be a question, inquiring what Jaeyun could possibly do next.
Your trail-off sentence steals his attention and he sees the query in your eyes. He inhales deeply before addressing the elephant in the car you’ve somehow given birth to.
“Princess, do you trust me?”
“Of course, it’s the track I don’t,” you confess.
“Me either, but I gotta pull all the punches here; for the track, for the Lucifiers…for Mingi.” His voice cracks a little as he thinks of his friend, and the damage it caused him.
Jaeyun's gaze hardens, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles whiten, as though he’s holding not just the car but every ounce of the Lucifier’s pride and promise he’s made as their leader. His mind is as sharply focused on Mingi as it is on the wheel, almost as if his friend’s presence is woven into every inch of the track ahead. There’s a weight he feels, a determination to make his best friend proud, to take the track that cost Mingi so much.
"Trusting me means sticking it out," he adds, almost like a dare. “You ready?”
You swallow, nerves bubbling as you nod, barely managing a steady breath. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?” But even as you say it, you know Jaeyun’s already got a strategy, one as risky as it is relentless. He could fucking kill you right now and yet, you’re ready to put your life in his hands, because you know he’s never going to snap it.
Kind of like your heart.
Ahead, Devil’s Corner yawns open like a waiting trap, and Yeonjun knows it. You can feel the weight of your brother’s stare from the other car, his eyes sharp with worry and rivalry. He’s fought this corner countless times and knows that going at it full throttle will never end well. You catch the fleeting look on Yeonjun’s face - a mixture of fear, anger, and an unspoken warning. He’s petrified for you, not knowing how far Jaeyun will go to secure the win.
Yet, you couldn’t be calmer.
“Hold on, yeah?” Jaeyun instructs and you immediately obey, watching as the dial hits it’s peak, his car flying even further in front of Yeonjun’s.
“You need to slow down, Jae…” you warn.
“How about you put that trust into action yeah?” he snaps back, though his anger isn’t directed at you, he’s just nervously tense. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? So you don’t hold it against him. If anything, it just makes you want to take his hand in yours and offer him some semblance of comfort.
But that would be silly right now considering there’s a death corner with you and his name on it.
As Jaeyun steers into Devil’s Corner, the entire car seems to tighten, every movement rippling through you as though you were an ant, squashed under the tyre. The pressure outside is immense, like a wall of wind trying to shove the car off the road. Inside, it’s nearly as suffocating, the tension compressing everything around you, even your heartbeat syncs with each vibration of the engine.
The curve is sharp - even sharper than you’d realised watching from the stands - and you feel the pull of gravity as Jaeyun doesn’t so much follow the turn as he cuts through it, daring the edge. Gravel spits and clinks against the sides of his precious baby.
Yeonjun is somewhere far back, but you can’t even think about him or his safety. The only thing consuming your mind is Jaeyun’s grip on the wheel and the creeping dread and exhilaration fighting for space in your lungs.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you convince yourself that it’s less scary to face it if you can’t actually see it - using the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ childlike tactic to feel brave. And in the midst of it all, as the car feels like it’s on the edge of its control, you hear Jaeyun’s voice over the noise - a steadying presence cutting through as he senses your apprehension.
“Nearly there, Princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his heart holding still within his chest. Although he’s fighting the battle of fear and hope inside of him, his voice anchors you just enough to brace yourself.
The car rockets through the tightest part of the bend, wheels practically skating on the track's very edge - the same edge that caused Mingi his loss of legs. You grip onto whatever you can as Jaeyun’s knuckles whiten, his hands firm and controlled on the wheel. The tension in the car mounts like a coiled spring ready to snap, the corner pulling both of you, testing how far it can go before either you or the car breaks under pressure.
At last, you feel the tail end of the car swerve slightly as Jaeyun gives just enough leeway to keep control, and you can sense him gaining ground, just barely escaping the grasp of the turn. Devil’s Corner spits you both out onto the straight stretch and for a heartbeat, there’s only the muted sound of your breathing, mixing with Jaeyun’s, heavy and relieved.
Finally, you open your eyes to see the road unwinding ahead, straighter, safer, and almost welcoming after the chaos of the corner. Your pulse is still racing, but the danger feels like it’s finally behind you - or so you hope. Jaeyun throws you a quick, side-glance, his usual cocky smirk returned but softer, almost a silent acknowledgement of the risk he just took with you by his side.
He doesn’t need to say anything, but as he shifts gears, pressing down harder on the accelerator to widen the gap between him and Yeonjun, his smirk says it all: That was for Mingi, and for you.
Once he sees the finish line in sight, he breathes out and slaps the wheel harshly. “Fuck, yeah!” he hollers, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, victory secured and only a long stretch away.
“Holy fuck…” you breathe out, chest heaving and eyes glued to the road in front of you.
“And you doubted me,” he feigns an upset pout and tilts his head in your direction.
“Well, you still have Yeonjun to deal with.” The reminder of your brother fast approaching doesn’t rock him, instead, he laughs.
Shaking his head as if Yeonjun’s trailing position is as much of an inconvenience as a bird shitting on his windshield, Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh and squeezes. “He’s still there because I let him be there. Can’t humiliate the guy completely y’know? He’ll be my family in the future.”
Your mouth opens as you process his words, unsure if he even realises what he just said. It’s a pass-away promise of commitment, and considering you aren’t even officially dating, you would say it’s thrown you off of Everest and has your mind tumbling down after your body.
It’s probably best to bring it up later though, you don’t want to throw him off, especially considering he’s still going 50mph.
He smirks and revs the engine once more, pushing the car just shy of its limits. “Why so worried? I’ve got a perfect record of keeping you safe, don’t I?” He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.
“Oh, you mean the ‘perfect’ record that almost just got me toppling over into the ditches of Devil’s Corner?” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he grins, then he pulls his attention fully to the finish line up ahead. It’s close enough now that the crowd is visible, and he salutes them with a quick flick of his hand.
God, he’s so hot when he’s like this. How lazily arrogant his entire racing persona is. You adore his softer side, of course you do, but this side of him gets your own motor running.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t ready to concede. He surges forward, lining up beside you both in a final, determined push, his car engine roaring with a fury that sends chills down your spine. You see him shoot a glare, not just at Jaeyun, but at you as well. But Jaeyun merely returns the look, cool and unbothered, and then, with one final roar of his engine, he edges past the line first, a triumphant laugh escaping his lips.
Jaeyun’s car barrels across the finish line with a triumphant howl from the crowd, cheers blending with the echo of his engine as he cuts through the air, a living victory. The thrill radiates off him; he punches the air, letting out a victorious whoop as his foot remains steady on the accelerator. He finally glances over at you, his face alive with pure elation, his cocky grin fully in place. But instead of slowing down, he maintains his speed, the wind whipping through the car as you look back at the receding crowd.
"Wait - where are we going?" you ask confused, looking back as you pass by everyone and leaving them in the wake of victory.
Jaeyun flicks his gaze over, eyes dark with both mischief and longing. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Y/N, but you still owe me my birthday present,” he says hick and low, each word like a steady drumbeat against your pulse.
You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your own voice steady. “Don’t you want to celebrate with everyone? You just won the Lucifers the grit track and Devil’s Corner.”
He lets out a laugh, deep and incredulous. “Celebrate with everyone else? Princess, I’d be out of my mind to spend one more second without seeing what you have for me. I would be fucking insane, actually.” He eyes you hungrily, already imagining all the possibilities under your dress or up your sleeve. His tongue brushes his bottom lip in a glazing swoop, a promise lingering in his gaze that leaves your cheeks feeling warmer than they should.
He shifts gears, and you glance back to see the track and the crowd becoming distant figures in the rearview mirror, your brother among them. “Besides,” Jaeyun adds, leaning closer as he cuts through the night, “Do you really wanna see Yeonjun right now?”
“...No.”
“Good, then trust me.”
_____
The car halts, tyres crunching over gravel as you take in the scene before you. Below the dark sky, the city sprawls out like a tacky but beautiful Christmas night with glittering lights, each window and streetlamp reminiscent of a fairy light. Below, the river carves an almost silver line through it all, shimmering under the moonlight. It’s too beautiful for you to describe and give it the credit it deserves.
Jaeyun doesn’t speak at first. His hand finds yours, fingers slipping through as he releases a slow, steady breath. He wasn’t aware how badly his muscles were suffocating his bones until now. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, an absent yet soothing gesture, and he finally lets himself relax, the hard lines of his jaw softening as he looks at you. The moonlight catches his features, highlighting the relief etched on his face - a look so different from the racer who stared down Devil’s Corner only 20 minutes ago.
For a moment, you both just sit there, silently letting the thrill of the night settle. You turn to him, sensing his guard finally lowered, his eyes holding something warmer, deeper than his usual confident smirk.
“It’s so pretty here,” you murmur softly, nodding towards the city.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, bringing your lips to his hand and kissing your knuckles softly, the tingle from the spark shooting all over your body. “I’d say the view is pretty fucking perfect.”
A blush creeps on your face, his eyes glued onto you as he mumbles the words into your skin, each syllable fluttering to your heart. Of course, he means you. He has seen this exact city view a million times, often coming up here after races to cool off and regather himself.
It’s the first place he drove to once he heard about Mingi.
It’s the first place he drove to once he met you.
It’s the first time he’s shown someone this spot.
Letting go of your hand, he quickly offers you a small smile before undoing his seatbelt. “C’mon, let's get a closer look.”
With that, you follow him and you both settle against the hood of the car, your shoulders brushing as you take in the sprawling lights below, wrapped in the quiet of the moment. The city glows, pulsing like a heartbeat, life so obvious yet subtle. You tilt your head toward him and nudge him softly.
“So,” you say, half-smiling, “how does it feel?”
“What?”
“Winning the grit track.”
He shrugs, and his gaze becomes distant, falling somewhere into the night. The silence stretches on, but it’s comfortable, the city’s buzz helping to fill the contemplative silence between words.
“I don’t care,” he murmurs, surprising you into a pause.
“What do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard. After all, this entire night was about winning the territory, claiming a stake over it and expanding the Lucifers’ ground. It sounds like a shitty action movie on Tubi now that you think about it, but that really is what the crews strive for. So for Jaeyun to say he doesn’t care, when he did what his past leaders couldn’t, throws you for a new one.
“The track…he can keep it,” Jaeyun says with a dismissive wave, almost as if he’s letting go of a heavy burden. “It was never about winning a stupid bit of dirt road.” He pauses, biting his lip as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to prove that TC had something to do in Mingi’s accident.”
The words leave his mouth in a rush, and you feel the weight of his pain and loyalty colliding in that confession. Jaeyun’s gaze stays trained on the city, brow furrowed, his jaw set, the ease on his bones only lasting the skip of a jump rope.
He truly believes that Yeonjun was involved - that he orchestrated some plan to knock Mingi out. You’ve seen Jaeyun’s loyalty; you know Mingi is more than a friend to him, practically family, and Jaeyun’s heart has no room to consider the idea that Mingi could’ve just…lost control.
You scoot closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm, sensing how vulnerable this confession has left him. “Look, Jaeyun,” you start, hesitating. “I don’t believe my brother would do something like that. But just because you made it through Devil’s Corner safely this time doesn’t rule out anything, yeah? There’s still a chance he had nothing to do with it…but maybe he did.”
He looks at you, contemplation written in the lines around his eyes, but doubt remains.
“I just can’t accept that it was some accident, you know?” he finally says, his voice tight with frustration. “Mingi was solid. The guy could practically drive in his sleep, and suddenly he spins out there?” His shoulders tense as he talks, each word laced with an anger born of grief and unresolved questions. He wants answers, and you sense how deeply he’s embedded in this conviction.
“Okay, so what if…” You hesitate, not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth right now, but knowing Jaeyun needs something to hold onto his faith in Mingi. “What if Yeonjun did have something to do with Mingi’s accident? He could have been planning it tonight but called it off because I was in the car with you?”
Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaeyun lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s not at you. “Then I could have got you fucking hurt, and what kind of man does that make me?”
It’s as if any reasoning or justification for his actions has suddenly all surged to his mouth and left a bitter taste, one that he finds hard to coat over with some mints. In his mind, he convinced himself for the moment that he was saving you, but in actuality, maybe he was just protecting himself.
He could have lost you.
That though makes him stand up and walk closer to the cliff edge, not enough to cause you alarm, but enough that indicates he’s in the need of feeling free from his mind.
And that’s something you can definitely help with.
Pushing yourself off the car, you reach out to him, lacing your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly from behind. Instantly, he cups your linked hands in his and melts into you, closing his eyes in relief as you kiss his back ever so gently.
“We can’t know what happened that night, Jaeyun, no one ever will. But it’s also not your battle.”
“But I-”
“No. End of story.” You twist him around to face you, your hands dipping your hands into his back pockets. “Mingi and Yeonjun raced that night, the outcome was what it was, and we have to move on. The longer we sit in the past, in this mindset of what if and what could have been, you prolong everyone’s pain, especially yours. And I won’t sit back and watch you do it.”
It’s tough, and you wish you could have laid it all out a little more prettily, but a dagger of truth won’t sink into skin if it’s covered in padding and fluff.
Jaeyun’s eyes portray a man trying to will himself to argue with you, that fight for his friend still very much alive. Yet, he knows you’re right. He isn’t helping himself by wallowing in the past, he’s only hurting himself and creating a deeper hole in his chest, one that is consuming him alive.
But no one has told him to get the fuck over it. Not until now.
“I know for a fact that Mingi does not want you dwelling on it, especially not tonight. You won the grit track, I’d say he’ll be over the moon with that, wouldn’t you?”
The last nudge is enough to make Jaeyun nod, a small smile creeping on his face. “Yeah. I saw him before the race and all he asked was ‘don’t fucking die and get us that track’.”
“See? You achieved both of those requests, I would say that’s worth celebrating,” you grin widely up at him, relieved to see his jaw loosen and shoulders unravel themselves. “It’s also your birthday…which is another reason to celebrate.”
Jaeyun checks his watch and sucks in a breath, his playful demeanour slowly coming back to the surface, much to your delight. “It’s actually past my birthday now.”
Widening your eyes, you drag his wrist to your face, reading the clock's arms as they disappointingly read 12:04am. The sadness is plastered all over your face, your eyes looking glassy due to both regret and the cold wind nipping them.
Jaeyun immediately notices your solemn expression and pouts, holding back a laugh. “Princess, it’s okay.”
“It’s not. I didn’t even get to give you your presents.” You are never one for being late with gifts, in fact, you take birthdays so seriously that gifts are often in your friend’s hands early in the morning. Every birthday is precious to you, well, maybe not your own, but you love to make others feel appreciated and seen on the one day that is reserved for them.
The racer looks at his watch again and reaches for the dial, twisting it back as the small arrow rounds anti-clockwise to the 11. Happily, he flashes the watch’s face in front of yours. “Look, now it’s 11:05pm. You have 55 minutes left.”
A laugh bursts out of you, the heartache over the small inconvenience now lifted by his antics. He always knows what to do, what to say, how to lift you up so easily, it’s his superpower.
“Okay, which one do you want first?” you step back and place your hand on your hips, exhaling the drama from tonight out of your system. No more racing, no more brother, no more bad thoughts. Just you and Jaeyun celebrating the final hour of his birthday.
“There’s more than one?” he asks in a smug tone.
“There are three in total. One is your main present and two are tiny little things,” you explain.
Nodding, Jaeyun feigns ponder as he taps his chin. “Well, I think I should save my main for last, so let’s start with the ‘tiny little things’” he repeats back to you, knowing that they won’t in fact be tiny, their significance probably vastly bigger than any other gift he has ever received throughout his previous 21 birthdays.
Holding up a finger, you tell him to wait before you open the right backseat door of his car and retrieve two carefully wrapped gifts. You put in far too much effort in folding each corner perfectly and twirling every bow to sit neatly, but looking at your work now, you can safely say it was all worth it.
Confusion crosses Jaeyun’s pretty face as he points to his car. “When did you sneak into my car and put them in there?” he asks with piqued confusion. He would notice bright yellow wrapping paper with orange ribbons in a minute, the colours bouncing so brightly off his black interior.
“I didn’t,” you shrug as you confess, holding out the two gifts. “I shoved them both under my seat when you paid for the gas yesterday.”
“Your seat, huh?” he repeats with a lace of amusement, taking the top box from your grasp.
“Well, do you drive other women about?”
“Don’t ask fucking ridiculous questions. You’re the only girl.”
You curse your stomach for flipping out like it’s on an Alton Towers ride, the statement probably meaning nothing significant from his lips. He always says pass away comments like that, and each one you desperately try not to read into too much, your heart having a hard time already with calling this relationship between you both casual, never mind your brain popping up with conspiratorial thoughts that he could see you as something more than his non-girlfriend.
Gently, his hands peel the wrapping paper off, and reveal the first gift.
“Lollipops?” he laughs out, though joy shines from his features.
“Well I saw you were running low, and it is my fault you need to stock up on them, so…” you explain sheepishly, your foot carving out nonsense lines in the gravel.
Since you started hooking up, Jaeyun quit smoking. You hate the taste of the cigarette on his tongue and the smell of it in his car, and he caught onto that instantly. The way you would spray your perfume ‘randomly’ after he flicked the butt out his window, or how you offered him a chewing gum coincidently a few minutes before you climbed into his lap and licked into his mouth.
It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.
So he stopped. Cold turkey without a second thought. He still had the itch though, muscle memory constantly bringing something to his lips for a drag. That’s when you gave him a strawberry Chupa Chups and he never looked back. His dentist hates you for it, but his doctor couldn’t be more delighted.
Taking a cola lollipop from the assorted selection, he unwraps it and places it into his mouth, humming as the beautiful taste hits his tastebuds. His tongue swirls the ball of goodness and he instantly smiles at your reaction, deciding to play on it.
You curse him, his smirk widening as he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth just wide enough for you to watch the cola lolly get coated in his saliva, his tongue enveloping it the exact same way he does with your clit when he’s buried face first between your thighs.
Squeezing your legs together in order to stop the flow of arousal from dripping down your leg, you thrust the other present into his chest, retrieving the box of lollipops from him in the process. The further these things are from his mouth right now, the better.
“Okay, now this one,” you urge, clearing your throat and hating the way he pushes the sweet to the side of his mouth, the stick pocking out the corner of his mouth like a toothpick. Somehow, it only made him hotter, like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.
God, now you’re even more horny.
Jaeyun nods and flips the gift over, inspecting what it could possibly be. But he’s never been good at guessing, so he quickly tears the paper off, a little more forcefully than the lollipops. A black box adds another layer of suspense and curiosity. “Did you get me a diamond necklace?” he jokes, but once he peels open the lid, nothing is funny anymore.
His eyes flicker between you and the gift. “Y/N…”
“It’s not much, I know. But I thought it was fun,” you explain, scared that it’s not enough.
Picking it from the box, Jaeyun inspects it carefully. To most, it’s just a keyring, but to him, it’s the most thoughtful gift he has ever been given. The mini replica of his precious car, clearly hand-decorated by you stands out - the red decals and perfectly selected interior act as a mirror to the real thing; even the license plate has his famous J4K3YUN etched into it. The black Honda Civic replica sits so tiny yet powerful in his hands.
It was the first car he could afford. Everyone laughed at him - even Mingi - when he turned up to his first race. It’s a shitty little car with not much horsepower, but considering he was only seventeen when he started racing, he could hardly afford to put his student loan into a BMW or Aston Martin. Instead, he modified it, just enough to put his name out there.
His baby has never let him down since. All those times everyone has pestered him to trade her in have never crossed his mind. Even you know how much she means to him. Why else would you have given him an oversized keyring of it?
You know him, and that squeezes Jaeyun’s throat, stopping him from expressing thanks.
“If you pop open the boot, it has something inside,” you point out, excited. He’s made modifications to the real thing, but you got crafty with the mini-me.
“Can anything even fit in this?” he laughs but nonetheless, opens the boot - and it is not what he was expecting.
The interior has been prettily painted pastel pink, with glitter and gems perfectly placed inside, crowding the minuscule space. The first initials of your names are enveloped in a shakily drawn heart. It’s pretty and so very, very you.
Jaeyun’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight and you interpret it as pure adoration, injecting some pride into your chest. He likes it - thank fuck.
“I thought it was fun, since y’know, on the outside you’re all tough and metal but inside you’re just a sparkly pink princess.” You place the lollipop box on the hood and step closer, inspecting your work once more - as if you haven’t been scrutinizing every detail of it over the past month.
Throwing his head back in a laugh, he blinks away the joy in his tear ducts and nods, sighing out in defeat. “I’m not so sure ‘princess’ is the word I’d use-” he starts, only for you to interrupt.
“Oh, you are,” you insist, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in your own, “You’re the prettiest princess to ever exist, actually.”
“I think that title is reserved for you, baby,” he grins fondly, eyes raking over every feature of your face as you savour the taste of the cola sweet. “Thank you…so much, Y/N, no one has ever gotten me something so thoughtful. I really love-...it. A lot.” His throat tightens, words tangling up in his chest, but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice
Nodding, you give him a soft kiss, careful not to poke him with the lollipop stick, before taking the gift back, carefully placing it and the lollipops in the car for safekeeping. “Now, do you want your big present?” You wiggle your brows and shut the car door, almost skipping back to your spot in front of him.
Jaeyun was so caught up with everything tonight that he forgot that this was the reason he whisked you away as soon as the race ended, at least, it was the shallow reason. The deeper reason is something he won’t speak out into the night air.
Placing his hands on your hips, glides his hands up and down your sides, the warmth from his palms blissfully welcome. You love this dress, the way you feel in it, how it makes you look, but it isn’t exactly good for fighting the nipping cold away, especially considering the wind is much thinner up on the cliff.
“My big present…” he repeats, bringing his face down to yours, his hot breath creating a rose tint along your cheeks. “I think I want that more than anything right now.” His confession is raw and more than surface-level lust. He has so many emotions running through his body right now, and he knows that your present is going to be exactly what he needs.
“You need to unwrap it then.” The smirk on your face is contagious and your voice is low. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what your gift is, but he’s in for a treat nonetheless.
Jaeyun does pause for a moment, his hands fiddling with your zipper at the back but hesitant. “I think my gift might freeze to death if I unwrap it here, don’t you think?”
You hadn’t…thought about that actually. To be honest, when it comes to Jaeyun’s cock, that’s probably the only thing you think about. Rain or shine, snow or fog; if his dick is close to being inside of you, you’ll face any weather.
His fingers pinch the zipper and tug it down slowly, the winter air biting up your spine, but the shivers that are rippling through your body aren’t from freezing; the opposite in fact. The ghost of his fingertip creates a heated surge through your body, your skin igniting with pure desire.
Pushing the dress off your shoulders, your tits are laid bare in front of him, nipples hard and much more delicous than any lollipop Jaeyun could ever suck. They’re perfect, so perfect that he has a hard time putting his love for them into words.
“No bra?” he asks cheekily, that cocky boy everyone loves swimming to the surface of the night.
Shaking your head, you close your eyes as he cups them delicately. “Dress didn’t look right with it.”
“Is that the only reason?” Jaeyun’s thumbs flick over your hardened buds as he backs you up to the hood, you ass perched against the edge, a welcomed seat considering your legs could turn to jelly at any moment.
Truth be told, it was the main reason you didn’t wear a bra, with the tightness of the dress, it didn’t allow much more room for any extra padding. But you can’t lie and say that you also didn;t adorn one because it would save time.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation, will I?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of your throat before travelling down, sending waves of warmth through you with each kiss.
You feel the cool press of the hood beneath you as he lifts you up to perch you, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples now you’re at the perfect height, his tongue tracing lazy, agonising circles that make your breath catch. He shifts to the other, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as he bites gently, eyes smouldering with a dark intensity that only makes you want him more.
With each flick of his tongue, your mind fogs over, the chill of the night air long forgotten. His mouth leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he works his way down, fingers slipping under the fabric gathered at your hips, thumbs tracing soothing lines along your waist.
“Are these new?” he hikes your dress up so only your waist is covered and your new panties are on full display for him. It’s incredible how he noticed initially through touch alone, his mind cataloguing each thong, brief, and lacey panty you own.
“Yeah, got them a few days ago.” You don’t need to tell him that you bought them specifically for his birthday, he will know just by the Ivory colour alone.
A playful smirk curves on his lips as he takes in the sight of your new lingerie, his fingers grazing over the delicate lace with a possessive tenderness. “I thought so,” he murmurs, voice low and almost reverent as his thumb hooks under the fabric, dragging it down with aching slowness, leaving your cunt exposed, yet you feel anything but vulnerable.
There is a thrill of anticipation that crackles between you as his hands linger, his thumb tracing a line along your thigh. You’re so consumed with how close he is to your heat that you almost miss his other hand coming up to remove the cola lolly from your mouth.
“Open up,” he instructs, which you blindly follow, releasing the delicious treat from your mouth. “Good girl. Now, spread open for me.”
“Jaeyu-”
“It’s my birthday, Princess. I still have,” he checks his rewound watch, “36 minutes left, so until then, you gotta do what I say, yeah?”
That sounds perfect to you if you weren’t aware of how much of a tease he is. He’s going to torture you on the hood of his car, you know it, but you relent anyway, giving him a sharp nod and breathing out slowly.
Your legs spread wide, your feet finding stability on his bumper. The compromising position could mean anything, your mind flashing with all the possibilities of what he could do to you.
And by fuck, does he have a sweet, sweet plan.
A glint of mischief flickers in his gaze as he tilts the lollipop, the cola sweet glistening in the moonlight as he brings it down to hover just above your entrance. The sticky sweetness clings to the night air, and you feel your body tense with anticipation, each nerve heightened by the thrill of surrendering control.
He runs the candy along your inner thigh first, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint, sugary trail that he follows with his mouth. The coolness of the lollipop contrasts sharply with the warmth of his breath, sending shivers skittering up your spine as his lips and tongue trace after, claiming every inch of sweetness he’s left on your skin.
Finally, he presses the lollipop between your folds, teasingly dragging it up and down without quite giving you what you need, his eyes fixed on your reactions, devouring every tremor, every bite of your lip and jerk of your hips as the lollipop circles your clit. The sensation is maddening, the blend of sticky from the sweet and your own juices only heightens the ache building within you, and he seems to revel in the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. He wants to take his time.
The lolly ghosts your entrance before he presses it ever so slightly inside, your breath hitching at the unexpected sensation. His mouth follows close behind, claiming you with a slow, deliberate kiss that has your toes curling against the bumper, his tongue tracing the sweetness lingering on your skin.
A wave of heat radiates through you as Jaeyun continues his maddeningly slow pace, the lollipop pressed just at your entrance, teasing and coaxing you in a way that has your pulse racing, much like how it was when you were near death on Devil’s Corner.
He dips the lollipop in a little further, the rounded edge pressing in just enough to make you gasp and claw at his car bonnet, and then he draws it back out, running it up and over your clit with agonising patience. The pressure of the sweet gliding over your most sensitive spot has you squirming, but his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, a wicked smile curving on his lips as he swirls the lollipop slowly, tracing lazy circles that leave you breathless. The candy, now coated in your own slick, sends shockwaves through you, and you feel yourself clenching, trying to draw him deeper, desperate for more. Jaeyun seems to notice, and he chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling against your inner thigh.
With one last, lingering drag of the candy over your clit, he brings it to his mouth, sucking in the mix of flavours. Your sweetness mixing on his tastebuds with the cola makes his eyes roll and contemplate opening up a business just for him that sells pussy flavoured lollies. Specifically, your pussy, of course.
“You’re fucking delicious, Princess,” he moans out, sucking the pop with fervour. You’re so jealous and you curse ever buying him them. But not really, the scene of his tongue lapping it up eagerly, mixed with the saliva that's glistening on his lips only adds a series of precious memories that you can happily store in your wank bank.
Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it just rough enough for him to growl. “Please, I’m trying to cum for you before your birthday ends.”
“Yeah?” he huffs out a laugh and tosses the almost obsolete lolly away, the stick hidden by the gravel that swallows it. “I can make that happen.”
“Good-”
“If you beg.”
You freeze, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. If there is one thing you hate most in the world, it’s begging for a man. You can submit to Jaeyun, sure, that’s easy enough. But there’s something so humiliating about having to plead for your own pleasure. He never makes you beg, usually too fucking impatient himself to play that game, so this is not exactly in your forte.
“I’m not begging. No way.” You cross your arms and shake your head adamantly.
Jaeyun’s smirk widens as he sees your defiance, his gaze darkening with something that borders on both amusement and challenge. “Really now?” he murmurs as his thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, inching achingly close but not quite where you want him. “You’re gonna stand by that?”
His eyes roam over you, taking in the way your body reacts despite your stubbornness, and you can feel the tension building in the air as he leans in, his lips hovering just above your core, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. The anticipation sends shivers racing over your skin, but you keep your arms crossed, refusing to relent.
“I know you hate it. You’re so powerful, baby. I adore that about you,” he continues in a low murmur, voice laced with a teasing edge, “But just once, for me?” He pouts, bottom lip overtaking his entire face and somehow making him look even more irresistible.
That fucking pout.
With a small laugh, he shifts down, pressing soft and tongue-focused kisses along your thighs, each one closer than the last. His breath is warm, and you can feel the control slipping from you with every careful movement.
“Fine,” you say finally, voice barely more than a whisper, “Please, eat me out.”
“Come on, Princess. If you’re going to beg, I want to hear you properly.”
“Jaeyun,” you whine, already flushing up with embarrassment.
“How about,” his mouth places one feather-light kiss on your clit, a gasp of pleasure drawing from your lips, “I beg you to beg me? Then we’re both on the same boat.”
Now, while you don’t like to beg, you love to hear Jaeyun beg. There have been countless times when you’re on your knees, much like he is now, and your mouth is a hairline away from his tip, and he’s thrashing under you, moaning out pleas and needs in a higher pitch, wanting nothing more than you to consume his painfully hard cock in his mouth.
Jaeyun doesn’t have humility when he is with you, he’ll scratch and claw at the bedsheets, whine out your name in desperation, and have you take full control if you want to. You wish you could be more like that, because fuck does it look beautiful, and you know he will love it if you’re a crying, pleading mess under him.
It would be the perfect birthday gift, actually.
So with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and clear your throat. “Okay. But only if you go first.”
Jaeyun smirks and rubs some heat back into your legs. With soft, kitten-like licks, he plays between your folds, giving you an inch of what's to come. “Princess, please beg for me. I’ve been such a good birthday boy, have I not? I need to hear you want me, the same way I need you. This pretty pussy deserves to be devoured, and I can only do that if you beg for it. Please, baby. Pretty please with a lollipop on top.”
God, he is so fucking good at it. Somehow he still sounds so strong and assured even when you can hear the cracks in his voice and the tremble on his lips. His hips buck the air, mimicking what he wants to do with you, his cock leading him, thinking with his second head.
Whimpering, you look down to see him adorning that pretty pout once again, and you crumble.
“I nod. Jaeyun…please make my cum on your tongue, let me give you the best birthday gift. I want you to lap me up and never stop, make you remember this birthday for the rest of your life. Please, baby.”
You don’t cringe, instead letting your desperation take charge, which gladly works. Jaeyun groans loudly at your filthy words as they echo over the cliff, giving the city indication of what’s taking place. His cock is so painfully hard against his jeans that he wonders if it has the ability to tear through the material like Hulk when he transforms. It certainly feels like it could.
“Good girl,” he praises, before giving you what you crave.
Connecting his mouth to your core, his skilled tongue has you keening, head falling back against the car hood as he licks a broad, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. His lips close around you, his tongue flicking and swirling as he loses himself in the taste of you, his hands spreading your thighs even wider to hold you firmly in place.
He slurps and devours you, humming into your hole in pure lust. Jaeyun loves nothing more than being buried in pussy, he could spend the rest of his life between thighs, your thighs. The added tints of cola still lingering on your skin only heighten his arousal, the sweet tang mixture enough for him to dig his nails into your thighs and bury further in.
Arching your back, your thighs fight his grip as they try and clamp around his head, the way his tongue dips into your hole, rimming it with teasing strokes before shooting back in makes your head dizzy, the November air suddenly feeling like a July breeze - welcomed and just right.
“Fuck,” you hiss out as he bites at your folds, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth, another way of tormenting you yet giving you everything you could want. His bottom teeth drag up to your clit with his puffy bottom lip trailing behind it like a soothing balm.
You’re starting to wonder whether it’s his birthday or yours.
With precision, Jaeyun latches onto your clit and suddenly, you’re seeing more stars in the sky, body lurching forward as you trap him there. The tension coils tightly in your stomach, and he takes his time, alternating between sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back just before you can tip over, savouring every second of your mounting need.
“Jaeyun, please…” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, and he hums against you, sending a shudder through your entire body.
“See? You can beg so easily,” he mocks playfully, smirking as your thighs act as earmuffs. Despite the barricade, he can still hear every plea and mewl that falls from your lips, indicating that you’re close.
So, he picks up the pace, his hands gripping under your ass to push you further into his face. His round nose nuzzles your nub as his tongue swirls around inside your cunt, the tip of his tongue committing every bump and nook to memory - not like he hasn’t already. He knows everything about you, that’s what happens when you spend seven months doting on and worshipping the same person.
Grabbing tightly onto his hair, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to pull apart, the threads of rope straining as your climax tugs. “I’m cumming…fuck, Jaeyun,” you warn, but it’s not breaking news to the man causing the euphoria. He’s licking, sucking, and biting with ferocity because he knows you’re falling apart
He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your body, his tongue flicking over you with such skill it has you trembling. “Come on, Princess. Let go for me,” he whispers, his words like a command, and your body is happy to obey.
And then, it hits you - the release crashing through you, sending shudders of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You can’t stop it, your back arching as you clutch at his hair, your thighs trembling as the wave washes over you, and Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He keeps going, worshipping you like he’s addicted to your taste, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.
Your chest heaves and your body goes limp as he cleans your pussy, making sure he takes every drop of his birthday gift. You taste heavenly, your cum swirling in his mouth as he slurps and sucks, the shocks jolting up your spine each time he nudges over your clit.
Once your legs release his head, he glances up at you through his thick lashes, mouth covered in your essence. “Thank you, baby,” he praises, his chest filled with a cocktail of emotions, the first as foremost one being adoration. “With 10 minutes to spare too,” he laughs, glancing at his watch.
Jaeyun stands up, kissing you with passion. He transfers your juices onto your mouth and you groan at the taste. All those days of downing pineapple and cranberry juice always pay off. His tongue licks yours, taking over your entire mouth as he claims you. His lips are sweet but his touch is anything but, you know he’s desperate, if his actions weren’t enough, the painful bulge that’s bucking into your sensitive folds is enough to tell you.
Swiftly, your hands move to his buckle, undoing it amongst the breathtaking kisses. It doesn’t take you more than a minute to undo his jeans and push them just low enough that his ass is on full display and his hard shaft can spring free. His cock is so pretty, like a work of art; six inches of pure joy. You’ve lost count of how many times this cock has made you come undone, the curve of it hitting perfectly into your cunt, like it was made for you. In some ways, you think it is.
Spreading your legs once again, you wrap your hand around his cock, the heat from it a stark contrast to your still cold hands. The sensation elicits a hiss from the birthday boy, his lips pulling from yours as he looks down. Your hand just fits around his length, and that makes his tip twitch. He’s proud of his size, but somehow he loves it even more when in the clasp of your fingers.
You press it against your wet core and he loses any sense of control he had left.
With a primal growl, he grabs your hips and lines up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. Between your outfit, the rush of the race, your cries of pleasure from his tongue work, and the overwhelming tightness in his heart, he needs to be inside you. Now.
Jaeyun slides in fully with one thrust, both of you creating a beautiful harmony of moans that echo like a choir in the night. His cock fills you up to the brim, his balls sitting comfortably against your ass. You feel like fucking heaven, in fact, if he was to die right now, he would do so happily. Those pearl gates could only mirror the happiness and alleviation that he feels as he buried himself to the hilt inside your warm hole.
His forehead rests on your shoulder, his lips peppering a succession of kisses just above your collarbone as he begins to move his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each bump of your walls hugging him.
“Jesus fucking christ, Princess,” he mumbles, officially lost in the act of pleasure. He’s not thinking about anything else, just how your wet heat feels enveloping him.
You can’t say your thoughts aren’t also only consumed by the tip of his cock poking your cervix so deliciously, his balls slapping against you almost mimicking a spank each time. His thrusts pick up pace and you both lose yourselves in one another, chanting praises and curses to convey your feelings.
Jaeyun’s hands roam over your body as his cock pounds into you, switching from holding your hips in place to kneading your breasts, each one serving their own purpose. He wants you still so he can keep hitting that perfect spot over and over again, the squishy spec in your cunt his main target, but your tits bouncing in the moonlight keep distracting him, his cock losing power as his brain gets clouded in the movements.
“You’re so beautiful, Princess,” he confesses, kissing the valley between your breasts. “So, so beautiful.”
Your heart hammers harder, the pulse resounding in your ear as you smile gratefully. “So are you, Jaeyun.” And you mean it. He’s the most beautiful person inside and out, you’re never going to meet anyone like him again, and that’s what terrifies you.
Jaeyun locks his eyes on yours, his hips finding a new determined rhythm. He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose with yours in a kiss. How is it possible to feel so adored and cherished by a man you have no label with? That’s the question running through your mind as you stare into his soul, begging for him to answer.
And in some way, he does. His pupils shine with nothing but your reflection, showing just how deeply you're ingrained in him. Though neither of you may voice exactly what this is, you both know it.
As you lose yourselves in each other, that familiar coil tightens low in your belly, heat pooling with a desperate need for release. You dig your nails into Jaeyun's shoulders and bury your face in his neck, signalling you're close.
Gripping your waist, he matches your rhythm, pushing you both to the edge—metaphorically this time, thankfully. He's already brought you close enough to danger tonight; there’s no need to test fate again.
"Come on, baby. Cum for me," he urges, jaw clenched as he holds back his own release. He’s never been one to finish before his girl.
With his coaxing and the delicious sensation of him deep inside, you reach your climax once more, this time more intense than you expected. You bite down on his neck to muffle your moans, and like a domino, he spills into you.
His white ropes soothe your cunt, painting your walls with his adoration of you. The best decision you ever made was getting an IUD. You know it’s not full protection, but for the feeling of his seed filling you up like a cream piping bag, you’re willing to take the risk.
Jaeyun holds you close, his breath mingling with yours as both of you come down from the high, eyes blazing secret confessions into one another. The steady thud of his heart under your palm feels grounding, almost comforting in the quiet aftermath. You shift slightly, feeling his warmth begin to fade in the cool night air, yet he doesn’t let you go just yet, keeping you wrapped up in him.
“Happy birthday,” you whisper softly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, a faint smile tugging at your mouth.
Mirroring your expression, he melts into your pepper kisses as you trail down his neck, paying extra attention to the skin you marked up with your canines. His large hands glide up your back and hold you close to him. “Thank you.” It’s simple, but he’s biting his tongue, the moment too perfect to destroy with his post-nut brain.
You sense his apprehension and lean back, gazing into his eyes and studying the specs of his brain that you can make out. “You okay? You’re usually cracking out a joke by now,” you ask playfully, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in your tone.
Jaeyun bites his lips together, preparing himself to possibly make the biggest mistake of his life. He pulls out of you, jerking his cock clean enough that he can get away with it, before tucking it back into his trousers.
Oh no.
Your mind does everything to convince you that this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. The efforts to soothe your racing mind falter just at the finish line. This is it. He’s going to hit you with the ‘this has been fun but it’s not what I want anymore’ or ‘hey, so this was great but you’re not what i’m looking for’. Whatever concoction of those sentences he wants to spin, you know it’s going to hurt. You’re in too deep.
And you would much rather be humiliated with your clothes on. So you jump off the hood of the car, your slick glistening in the night lights like a snail trail. Suddenly, the acts you just took part in have turned from euphoric to sickly.
“Listen-”
“I meant it,” he interrupts, not even letting you end this before he can. “I really mean it when I say you’re the only girl for me.”
You’re waiting on the but, yet it never comes. Instead, he’s biting his lip nervously, looking at you but not into your eyes, his focus on your forehead like a sniper in the woods. And you feel like you’ve been shot, just not in the hurtful way you were expecting, it’s almost like you’re on the receiving end of a blank and the shock is ringing in your ears more than anything.
You stand dumbfounded, zipping up your dress at the back. “Huh?” It’s stupid and not what you want to ask, but your flabber has been gasted.
Jaeyun groans and rubs over his face. “I don’t want anyone else. And I know you’re annoyingly loyal to Yeonjun, but I can’t pretend that this isn’t more than what it is.” He steps forward and cups your flushed face, the cold now settling upon it once again. “I. Love. You. I have for fucking months, and…I don’t know, I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”
I. Love. You.
It’s such a simple and common phrase, yet hearing it in his accent, from his mouth, directed at you, you find it foreign.
Jaeyun hates the silence that follows, the horns from the cars down below act like a mocking laugh to the moment. He knows its risky, confessing his feelings so bluntly, but if he had to keep them in any longer then he might have buried them forever and harboured an even deeper resentment towards himself and your brother.
“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, I get that. But can we call a spade a spade and admit that we love each other?” He insists, now finding his confidence. Go big or go home, he supposes. He’s convinced you love him too, you look at him the way he does you, and even if it’s only a tiny speckle of love that you hold for him, he needs you to admit it. For his sanity, and yours.
You can’t process a single thought beyond his words, their weight pressing down on you, making it impossible to breathe for a second. The world falls quiet around you, the buzzing city and distant hum of traffic fading as your mind hones in on his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lip as he waits.
“Jaeyun,” you manage, though it barely comes out above a whisper, “This isn’t…this isn’t exactly what we agreed on.” Stupid. Why the fuck are you saying that NOW.
“I know, but I also know you feel it too.” His thumb moves tenderly across your cheek, brushing over the spot where a tear might fall if you let it. “And if there’s even the slightest chance that you feel what I feel, I just need to know.” He pauses, his voice softening as he meets your gaze fully. “Because you’re it for me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be with you completely. You deserve to be loved, and although I might not deserve to be the one to give you that, I want to try.”
You want to look away, to retreat and give yourself a chance to think, but his eyes are pleading with you to stay present, to face this. And the truth is, in some corner of your heart that you've tried to ignore, you know what he's saying is true.
But Yeonjun…If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you. It’s one thing to be in a fun fling with his rival, it’s another to be completely and utterly head over heels for the boy.
The silence is thick, but there’s an odd comfort in it. You reach up, covering his hand with yours, grounding yourself in his warmth. “I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, voice trembling. “And I…I don’t know how we’d make it work without hurting Yeonjun.”
Jaeyun’s grip tightens, his confidence anchoring you. “I’ll make it work. I’ll do everything to make sure he accepts it. I’ll step down as the Lucifer’s leader, I’ll get on my knees and beg, baby I will do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I don’t want to come between you both, I know how precious he is to you, and you to him,” he pauses, breathing out and collecting his thoughts before he goes on a desperate faffing rant, his point losing focus. “I love you, and that means loving every part of you.”
“In the car…” you begin, voice unsure, “You said something about how Yeonjun would become your family, you meant-”
“Yeah, listen. Don’t freak out about that. I was jumping the gun with that one…but I mean, is it so unplausible? For us to be together? To imagine a future with you?”
“There’s a big difference between jumping into dating and leaping into marriage, Jaeyun.”
“Okay? So we’ll hold back on the leaping for now,” he laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, “but tell me you’ll jump.”
His breath mingles with yours, warm and steadying, grounding you in a way that makes your hesitation falter. "Jaeyun," you begin, your voice so soft it barely carries the weight of what you’re feeling. "It’s terrifying to even think about, you know that, right? Yeonjun is…he's been there my whole life, my protector, my brother…you’re asking me to risk that.”
"I know." He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles along your cheek, calming and reassuring. "And I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t believe with every part of me that we’re worth it. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready; whether that’s now, or tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’m in this, Y/N. All the way. I just need you to say yes."
Your lips part, the words catching in your throat, suspended between the comfort of safety and the thrill of the unknown. Slowly, you reach out and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright," you say, a tremor of nerves mingling with the glint of determination in your eyes. "I’ll jump…but you’d better catch me, Jaeyun."
A grin breaks across his face, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rivalry, the fear, even Yeonjun. It’s just you and him, exactly how it should have been from the beginning.
"Always," he whispers, voice filled with quiet conviction. Then he closes the distance between you, sealing your promise with a kiss that’s soft, lingering, and brimming with all the words neither of you dared to speak out loud.
But maybe it’s time you do
“I love you too, Jaeyun,” you confess, eyes boring into his heart.
His eyes widen for a split second, and you see the disbelief flicker across his face, not quite sure he heard you right. But then his gaze softens, and a smile breaks across his face, one so genuine and unguarded that it sends warmth flooding through you. His hand tightens around yours, squeezing his happiness into your veins and bones.
"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that leaves your heart aching. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chants, kissing all over your face, causing you to scrunch up and laugh, attempting to push him away but failing - not that you’re going to complain about that.
There’s a sense of relief, a lightness you haven’t felt in so long, as if all the weight of secrecy and uncertainty has lifted. For once, you’re not worrying about the consequences, about what could go wrong or who might get hurt. Right now, it’s just you and him, and the truth laid bare between you.
“Yes, okay, we love each other! Enough!” you giggle between his million and one kisses.
His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with reverence. “I’m never letting you go now, you realise that, don’t you?”
You nod, a smile creeping across your face, and pull him in for another kiss, this one filled with the promise of everything that lies ahead. “Oh I know. Just wait till I tell your crew,” you laugh, pushing him away. “‘Oh, Y/N, I love you sooooo much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me-'”
Your imitation is cut short, his hand flying over your mouth as he suppresses a laugh, trying to portray fear that isn’t truly there. “C’mon! You can’t ruin my reputation like that,” he whines, giving you that signature pout.
“Oh but I will-” Without warning, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to the backseat. “Jaeyun! Put me down!”
“I’m going to fuck every word and thought out of that pretty brain of yours so you never utter my soft side to a soul,” he playfully jabs, opening the backseat and tossing you inside.
“Well…I have a lot of thoughts…and words,” you reply, biting your lip as you settle across the seats, legs already accommodating for him.
“Then it’s gonna be a long night. I suppose I’ll need to turn my clock back some more, don’t you think?”
____
perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21
@diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee
@haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii
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#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#aj writes#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#enha x reader
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『 Faking it 』
☼ synopsis: you fake an orgasm and they notice so they punish you
☼ characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro
☼ wc: 1.0k
☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, creampie, thigh riding, hair pulling, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), pet names, mean!Toji
☼ notes: once again I am daring you to comment and / or reblog to let me know your thoughts 🫶
ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:
✧ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment, despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was doing
✧ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter
✧ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act
✧ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you, but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back
✧ You pout at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head
✧ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he knew
✧ Before you were able to explain yourself to him he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it,”
✧ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now
✧ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer
✧ “Go ahead, love, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips
✧ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted
✧ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers
ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:
✧ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it
✧ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice
✧ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked
✧ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face
✧ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm
✧ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release
✧ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas where you needed him so desperately
✧ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but so turned on
✧ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now
✧ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment
ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:
✧ RIP to your little kitty
✧ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after
✧ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts - so you do it anyways
✧ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandled you into a mating press
✧ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson,” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper
✧ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it
✧ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots which made you lose your mind
✧ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as his degrading words fell from his lips
✧ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful
✧ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't get the satisfaction of being filled by him
✧ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return
✧ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”
Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum
#-ˋˏ ༻luma's musings#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#toji smut#Jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk Gojo#jjk toji#jjk geto#gojo satoru#geto suguru#Toji Fushiguro#💫hotter than the sun💫#dividers by adornedwithlight
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Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader
Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.
CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD
WC: 1800+
Part 1 | Masterlist
You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.
“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”
You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.
Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”
You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”
You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.
“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.
“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.
“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”
You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”
Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”
Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.
Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.
You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.
He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”
“The one that brought you to my office?”
“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.
You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”
Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”
“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”
You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”
Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”
You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”
Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.
“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.
Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”
You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”
Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”
You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.
But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.
Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.
Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”
You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.
“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”
“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”
Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”
You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.
“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.
“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”
Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”
Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”
You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.
“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”
You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”
Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.
“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.
“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.
“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.
Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”
You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.
Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.
Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.
“And you?”
“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.
You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”
You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”
You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.
“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”
You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”
…
Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”
You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”
Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”
You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.
“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”
You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.
“Such as?” he asks.
You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”
Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”
You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”
“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.
You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”
Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.
“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”
Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”
You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.
“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.
You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.
Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.
Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.
Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”
You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”
Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”
You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.
Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”
“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”
Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”
“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.
Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”
You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”
Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”
You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”
“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.
“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.
Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.
“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.
“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.
You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.
Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”
Rooster Tag List:
I'll be putting the rest of the list in the comments shortly! Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Rooster fics.
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#bradley bradshaw#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#miles teller#top gun maverick#tgm#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster bradshaw#rooster x you#miles teller x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster fluff#rooster fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun fanfiction
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part two to this | angst | part three coming soon...
later that evening dinner was served and simone was bathed with her pjs on as she settled into the couch under a mountain of blankets holding her tablet while face timing simon who answered on the first ring with a smile that was reserved just for his little girl.
"hello, princess. i miss you already, are you all for bed?"
it hurt hearing simon talk so quietly like that and seeing him so torn up made your heart sink to your stomach and all the way down to your toes like a weight on fishing line. "i am! do you think you can you come over for dinner? mom made your favorite!" simone asked.
from where you stood in the kitchen you heard the silence fill the video call as you glanced down and sure enough you were making what you were so used too, even after months of the separation you were still doing things for him to make his life easier.
simon mulled the question over his head, and while he does respect you, his daughter wanted to see him and that came before anything.
"tell your mum i'll be there soon, i love you."
simone hung up her tablet and put it in her cubby before running to the kitchen, her lips tugged into a bright smile as she clapped her little hands together. "daddy is coming for dinner!" she announced.
when you and simon had separated she had asked if you still loved her daddy and without a second of hesitation you told her you always would no matter what but she was too young for the rest of it.
she came closer to stand by you, her arms wrapping around your legs as you bent down to kiss the top of her head earning a glare so similar to simon's. "my hair mommy! i want to look pretty for daddy!"
you couldn't help but chuckle a little and crouch down to her height as you took hold of her hands. "baby girl, you are the prettiest already to him, why don't you put on a dress then?" you suggested softly.
simone skipped off to her bedroom down the hallway as you finished up dinner feeling a soft flutter in your belly, like butterflies while you waited for your date to show up, but in this case it was your husband.
when he had flat out refused to sign the papers you thought about using one of the fighting moves on him that he showed you but instead you left your shared home with your daughter.
simon truly never felt like his nickname until the first night being alone without his girls giggling and doing each other's makeup, now it's just silence that keeps him awake, it was all overwhelming.
ten minutes later simone came strutting from her room complete in the princess attire, the glittering crown she wore matched the array of purples in the dress and the plastic shoes as well. "is he here yet?"
"not yet baby, i'm sure he will be soon though. do you still have that card for him?" you asked while setting the small dining room table up for three, the image was enough to make your heart flutter.
perhaps you and simon could work this out.
the card simone bought in the store as you shopped for dinner was something she hasn't been able to stop talking about since then nor could she stop bragging to everyone at the store about her dad.
she zoomed to her room then back to the kitchen holding the white envelope with a grin as she bounced back and forth unable to hide the excitement even though she just got done spending a weekend with simon, he truly was her hero and number one, same for you.
to pass time you cleaned up while simone got on her tablet to watch an episode of her show before asking you were simon was.
an hour passed and no calls or texts, dinner was now cold and you were irritated and disappointed. heating the food up you ate in silence with simone who kept glancing at the door with sad eyes.
you wanted to punch simon in the throat for getting her hopes up and you wondered what it was that kept him from coming over because you knew that him seeing simone was the most important thing to him.
another phone call and more unread texts later you finally helped simone out of her dress and into some pjs before tucking her into bed and reading a story. "why didn't daddy come? does he love us?"
her question made you tense as you perched on the side of her bed, simon and love could be like oil and water sometimes, his version of love was never something like this so he tried his best.
"of course, he does honey bug. i think he got caught up into something which happens, he loves you so very much sweet girl."
her blue eyes watered before flowing over down her cheeks as she clutched the rainbow teddybear simon gave her a few months ago.
even at her tender young age simone was beyond smart.
"why can't daddy live with us?" her question wasn't aimed to hurt but you could feel the physical pain bloom in your chest then your throat formed a lump as you fought back the tears as well.
you cleared your throat and brushed her hair back. "it's a lot baby, ok? just get some rest and tomorrow is a new day." you told her and kissed the top of her head before standing up.
making sure her nightlight was turned on you had to fight off the torrent of tears that threatened to break like a dam as you listened to simone sniffle and bury herself deeper under her blankets.
once the door shut with a soft click you quickly made it to the living room and tapped at the screen, each one a flame adding to the raging fire building inside you from simone being stood up.
as much as you hated to say it you were used to it, from the beginning of the relationship there were enough missed dates and anniversaries to fill years old calendar you were sure but you love simon enough to over look all of that, none of it mattered.
that is until you had simone and while it was just you at first you couldn't stand to see your daughter go through the same feelings or have consuming thoughts of whether he'll come or not.
voicemail. again.
you dropped on the couch and rubbed your face before dialing john's number.
voicemail.
soap, same thing.
taking a steadying breath you pushed aside the what-ifs that you've battled for years and tried to keep calm. why the hell isn't he answering his phone? you kept repeating over and over again.
then finally, kyle answered.
"kyle...hi, do you know where simon is?" you asked immediately, not even giving the man to say hello or anything, suddenly your mouth went dry waiting for his answer. "kyle? hello?" you pressed again.
#i am a sucker for abrupt endings/cliffhangers#call of duty x reader#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#honeywrites
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Being human is simple if you strip away the inhuman systems, the bureacracy, the trauma that the programmed, wounded and misled perpetuate. (Hence kindness or protecting one’s energy). Being human happens without your conscious participation, you could not beat your own heart, digest your food etc. Hence ”human being” and not ”human doing”. Your body orients you, not the programming. Ground yourself, become present, it’s all here right now, the wonder of it. If you really pay attention.
People are either motivated by an avoidance of pain or a seeking of pleasure. Pain is fear, without pain, no pleasure. Without your palm, no dorsum. Everything exists in a complementary relationship to everything else. Night follows day. Everything is a derivative of fear or love. But it all leads back to love, in the end. Spiritually, this is transcendence of duality.
So i believe that, that which causes life to thrive, or a flower to bloom: is love, which is acceptance, which is compassion, which is nourishment, it allows. So i will be kind and playful in my eternal love, nothing else worked. The mind is designed to be as convincing as possible, hence it reaffirms our sense of reality. But there is something called as healthy functioning and coping, not meant as judgement but rather compassion. This can clear your mind.
Here’s a few of the most effective grounding exercises for a traumatized nervous system, that i’ve found:
• 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Exercise.
• Progressive muscle relaxation.
• Breath awareness (esp in highly emotional situations): Allow the breath simply arise, don’t try to control it, just let your attention ride on it, become breathed, like a tree.
• EFT.
Misc:
• Follow your excitement in every situation.
• Think about who you are without all your negative convictions. Instead of thinking that you chose think a thought, observe the feeling is triggers in your body. Feel the fear/anxiety and just breathe deeply. Don’t engage in the mind conversation, just breathe deeply. If you start engaging in the convo again, gently back to the breath. Remember: your mind is convincing for a reason, because a lot of thoughts: require your participation to survive. It can help to repeat:
”This negative response is how my body-mind has been programmed to think it must respond. Because it replays the past, i choose to learn from the past and accept myself, in order to move on. I choose to invite love. So i choose to believe that i don’t have to respond that way. Divine, i don’t know how it’s possible but with your infinite intelligence, all things are possible.”
Spiritual Practice:
• Aum chanting, 16-108 rounds.
• Hare Krishna chanting.
• Tibetan Tummo Yoga. (Very physically intense, somatic effect).
• ”Breath Of Fire” Pranyama, breating exercise (CAUTION: Please research how to do this one correctly, faulty practice can damage your lungs. Hence it’s also therefore incredibly potent.)
• Hoponopono.
Natural Processes:
• Full body crying. (Crying is a mechanism that releases tensions and trauma from the body).
• Ruthlessly honest journaling. Write down everything that has ever happened to you. (ChatGPT can be a wonderful tool here, just temper the amount of detail you provide)
• Exercise, 30min at a minimum, daily walk. Preferably in nature.
-
Above all, whatever we resist, persists. So things like journaling can often be the most cathartic and effective practice, each time. The idea is that if it is not expressed, it is harbored within. But once expressed, it becomes external. At which point, one can notice how there is a separation of ’what happened’ and ’who i am’.
chronic fatigue from mental illness and neurodivergency isn't something you can just will your way out of. your nervous system is part of your body. your brain is an organ. the fatigue is real. you're not lazy. so be kinder to yourself. be gentler with your bodymind.
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Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!
PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.
YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP
(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)
This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.
Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.
Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.
Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.
Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.
Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).
Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.
Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.
Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.
Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).
Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?
enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3
#also you don't even need the dairy stuff it just gives it a nice OOMPH.#ive made this soup with nothing but potatoes olive oil scallions salt and water and it still went fucking hard. just give your stuff time t#melt around and get all flavory#hotvintagethoughts
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love dresses up in many ways
(buddie)(8x07 spec)(881 words) how about a little not-evil spec? as a treat title from yet another bastille song
“Buck,” Eddie says flatly as soon as he opens the door.
Buck pastes on his most charming smile. “Eddie,” he replies.
“I’m one person.” He steps back to let Buck in anyway.
“One person that’s choosing joy!” Buck reminds him sunnily, kicking the door shut behind him.
Eddie grins and leans against the wall. “I am,” he acknowledges. “Pretty sure I don’t need to overdose on baked goods to achieve that.”
“Sure you do!” Buck exclaims. “Besides, this one’s focaccia. There’s like, a vegetable in it.”
Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, well, if there’s a vegetable…”
“See, I knew you’d come around.” Buck makes his way into the kitchen to drop off the focaccia (and the pound cake and the brownies, but shh, who’s counting?).
“Grab a couple beers?” Eddie calls after him.
He opens the fridge and finds a six pack of a fruited wheat beer he’s never seen before and grins. It’s not that he’s actually all that excited to try You’re My Boy Blueberry Wheat Ale, but man, it’s hard to put into words just how much he likes seeing Eddie try news things just for the fun of them. There’re a few familiar sours in there, too, but fuck it. Buck grabs two of the blue-labeled bottles and heads back into the living room.
“I reserve the right to pour this out and get a new one if it’s weird,” Buck announces, popping the top off Eddie’s and handing it to him.
“Mm,” Eddie replies. He takes a tentative sip, then his face blooms into one of those easy smiles Buck’s seeing more and more of these days. “S’not weird,” he says. “It’s good.”
“Yeah?” Buck asks.
Eddie shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to try it for yourself.”
“Guess so,” Buck murmurs before taking a sip of his own.
To his genuine surprise, it is good. Better than he expected. Like maybe-his-new-favorite-beer better.
“Okay, yeah,” Buck says, dropping down onto the couch next to Eddie. “Not weird.”
Eddie grins at him, so bright that Buck kind of wants to look away, but also maybe never stop looking.
“So what inspired today’s round of baking?” Eddie asks, knocking his knee against Buck’s.
Unbidden, an image of Eddie’s bare thigh pops into Buck’s head. He brushes it away because—
Anyway, he brushes it away.
“I dunno, Eds,” Buck says with a sigh. “I just— I think I’m a little stuck. In—in my own head, I mean. About, you know, all of it.” He waves his beer around to emphasize his point and narrowly avoids spilling it. “It’s not even about him, you know? It’s what he represents.”
“Which is…” Eddie prompts.
Buck settles back into the couch and wraps his non-beer-holding arm around himself. “I don’t know. Finding whatever it is I’m missing, I guess.”
Eddie hums and takes a long sip of his beer. “What makes you think you’re missing something?” he asks finally.
Buck frowns, nonplussed. “I mean,” he says, gesturing vaguely.
“What, a couple of not-forever relationships and there’s something wrong with you?” Eddie asks and—
“Five,” Buck says dully. “Five not-forever relationships.” Yeah, he’s pretty sure there’s something wrong with him.
“Buck,” Eddie says softly. From anyone else, it would feel chastising. From Eddie, it’s just… comfortable.
“Well what do you think it is?” Buck asks.
“I think,” Eddie says slowly, “that I’m probably the least helpful person you could possibly ask for relationship advice.”
Buck rolls his eyes. “M’not asking you about relationships, I’m asking you about me.”
“Ah, well, in that case,” Eddie says teasingly.
Despite himself, Buck smiles. “Just—what is it that makes me so—” Easy to leave? Hard to love? He can’t quite bring himself to voice either thought.
Eddie frowns like he heard them anyway. “Whatever it is, I like it,” he says with a shrug.
Buck blinks. “You… like that I keep getting dumped?”
“No, obviously not, Buck,” Eddie says, turning to shoot him an exasperated look. “I like you,” he continues. “Whatever it is your exes were too stupid to love about you, I do.”
All the air seems to leave the room. It’s—one time, in high school, Buck was slammed into the ground so hard during a football game that for a few seconds, he was literally incapable of breathing. This feels a little—a lot—like that.
“Eddie,” he croaks.
He shrugs again, like he didn’t just say the most insane, incredible, intense thing Buck’s ever heard.
“I like you the way you are,” Eddie reiterates. “You don’t need to make yourself less to be loved. The right person will get that.”
Buck swallows. “You think?” he manages.
“I know,” Eddie says emphatically.
Buck opens his mouth and closes it again. It’s just—it isn’t something he hasn’t heard before. Hell, Eddie’s said it more that once before. He just feels—
It’s like there’s something in his chest that’s dying to break loose, some incredible revelation that’s just around the corner. But for all he pokes and prods at it, it won’t come any sooner. There’s something, though.
Maybe he does just need to let the universe do it’s thing. In the meantime, he’s sitting next to Eddie on the only couch he’s ever really felt completely comfortable on. It’s enough.
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hello there!
Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊
ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))
ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!
✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)
✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.
✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.
✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.
"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"
Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.
"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.
"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"
"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"
Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.
Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.
But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.
"Hello, everyone!"
God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.
Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.
"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"
Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?
"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."
"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"
Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.
"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.
"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"
Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.
If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.
"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."
Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.
"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)
"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"
"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)
Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.
"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.
"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)
"Sir, I know it—"
"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"
Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.
"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.
The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.
"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"
He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."
"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."
"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."
"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."
"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"
"You should have seen your face, baby!"
Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.
"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."
"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"
"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.
"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"
"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.
But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.
"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."
"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."
Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.
"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.
Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.
"You know what else I deserve?"
"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"
It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.
"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.
Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.
"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)
He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.
"Ready, kid?"
"No, but I'll do it anyways."
"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.
"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)
He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.
It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"
"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)
"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.
"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"
"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."
ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:
#lele writes ʚɞ#formula 1#f1#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula one#imagine#formula one fluff#formula one fluff imagine#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x oc#franco colapinto x reader#senna!oc#franco colapinto x senna!daughter#senna!reader#ayrton senna#williams racing
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The list of ML S6 episodes title has appeared and it feels like it is the real deal.
I know others have written about it, but here is my analysis and speculations based on the episode title down below.
Enjoy!
601 - Climatiqueen Sounds like Stormy Weather got an upgrade (her french name is Climatika). Nice little nod to the pilot of the previous arc too.
602 - Dessinatriste A nod to "le Dessinateur" (Evillustrator)? With this time the adjective "triste" (sad) included in this new name. Although, it could be a girl character as the name does sound like the feminine form (Dessinatrice).
603 - Sublimation Sublimation is the superpower name of the Rooster, so the episode might be about Marc, but it could also be the name of the olympic themed Akumatized we can see in the S6 sneak peak that was going around. The audio said she is looking for people to be the better version of themselves. Sublime is a word to qualify high morals and esthetic qualities. Could also be a kid-friendly introduction to what Sublimation is in psychanalysis if it has any value left. Sublimation is about transforming impulses into more productive behaviors.
604 - Daddycop Most probably a nod to Rogercop. An episode about Sabrina's relation with her father perhaps? On a side note, the title reminds me of the Daddy Cool song.
605 - Papys Garous Papi (or Papy, both writting are accepted) is a casual and affectionate term for someone to talk about their grandfather. So Papa-Garou (Weredad) but also involving at least Marinette's grandfather. Because Papy is plural here. Does Tom consider himself to be an old man?
606 - Princesse Syren Ondine as Syren is getting an upgrade as well.
607 - El Toro de Piedra Sounds like Ivan will be involved in that one. After all, he has the Ox Miraculous and his akumatization was called Stoneheart. Although the Spanish is new. Perhaps the akumatized will be a relative of Ivan?
608 - Vampigami I think everyone's first thought was seeing Kagami as a Vampire. Is Kagami a fan of either Dracula or the Twilight series? Considering it is canon that she read romance mangas (Glaciator 2), I wouldn't be surprised for the latter. Still, we did have an episode before that did end with "gami" but wasn't about Kagami (Optigami which was a portmanteau of Optic and Origami).
609 - Monsieur Agreste This feels like a follow up to the Gabriel Agreste episode from S4. Is someone pretending to be Gabriel? Or could it be the Adrien's grandparents episode that was hinted by Gloob? Or is Argos involved?
610 - Le Château Noir I know the speculations are about that episode being around Chat Noir, but I am not sure it is a pun with Chat due to the word Château (Castle) keeping its accent. But you know which Medieval Akumatized we had before? Le Chevalier Noir (Dark Blade).
611 - Revelator Not much to go with there. We can expect the Akumatized is a guy and that there is a risk of revealing things. Although, we did have an episode called Revelation which featured Infox (Hoaxer), but I am not sure they could be related. Again, the title doesn't give much to work with.
612 - Psyconductrice A portmanteau of the words Psycho and Conductrice which could either be a female driver or a female conductor. However, ML Paris has turned a page on cars under Mayor Bustier, so it is probably more related to music or leading people.
613 - Yaksi Gozen Obviously, we think of Ikari Gozen and Matagi Gozen (Pretension). So Tomoe will be once again akumatized. I have looked for the name Yaksi and it looks like it is a sanskrit word. The wiki page I've found said they are similar to fairies or nymphs in the hindu culture. Although, I find the use of sanskrit special for Tomoe. As far as a remember, the only other sanskrit name we got was Mayura. So, could it be that either Nathalie or the Peacock Miraculous is involved in that episode as well?
614 - Couchorak Goldorak reference spotted! The other word in that name is Couche. Which actually have several meanings. It could notably be either a diaper, a layer or a bed.
615 - La Redresseuse As a francophone, all I am thinking about is "Dresseur Pokémon" (Pokémon Trainer) ^^; Anyway, something to do with training an animal or correcting bad behaviors. If Sublimation isn't the olympic themed akumatized, then this is my best second guess.
616 - Noe At first glance, all I am thinking about is a negative Zoé. Even though Noé (with an accent) is a boy's name (the French version of Noah). So maybe a new Bourgeois family member? Another possibility, since this is the French episode list is that Noe is a dimunitive for Noël, which is the French name of Nino's little brother.
617 - La Fée de Beaux Rêves Nice little pun there. The actual sentence is "Fais de beaux rêves" (Have Sweet Dreams) but with the word Fée instead of the verb. This seems to align with Pigella's power as well.
618 - Les Crassetastrophes Portmanteau of the words Crasse (filthy, dirty, scum) and Catastrophe (disaster). This one feels like it will be very smelly and disgusting. I wouldn't be surprised if this one is about pollution and if so, Polymouse will be involved.
619 - Riginarazione So, we got the words Rigid(?), Regina (either it is the Character name or the word Queen) combined with the word ration in Italian.
620 - Renverse-coeurs Reminds me of Dislocoeur which Dark Cupid's French name. So, we could theorized that Kim would be involved here.
621 - Les Titans Chaînes This one is giving me trouble. even in French because the name isn't a natural combination. It would be more normal to write it up as "Chaînes Titans" instead. "Chaînes" could be literally chains (in the sense of shackles) but in French, the word could also refers to a series of something. Like a mountain range, a production line or food chain, but also a channel (like a TV channel or Youtube channel). I do see the pun with the word "Enchaîne" in the title which either means to align or to shackle. Wasn't there an episode confirmed about influencers? This might be that one. Especially as Titans are not only huge figures, they even had a war in the greek mythology against the Olympian Gods (Titanomachy).
622 - Lady Chaos Honestly, your guess is as good as mine here. Because the ML verse counts a few Lady Something, like Lady Wifi or Lady Dragon, so this title doesn't mean it is about Ladybug directly, but it could be related to her as it is in opposition with what Ladybug does and represents.
623 - Tristanansi Nora is akumatized again and she will be sad this time around.
624 - La Reine de Frayeurville Spooky episode in perspective. Frayeur means Fright. So literally, the Queen of Frightville.
625 - Protocole Secret Feels more like a code name to a project than an akumatized name. My money this is Tomoe's plan.
626 - Nemesis Nothing to add besides that it sounds promising. I wonder what our new Butterfly Holder has in store in that one.
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Stolen Glances - Drew Starkey
Summary: At the Met Gala, Reader, a singer, and Drew Starkey share an unexpected connection after slipping away from the spotlight to escape the chaos. Bonding over music and the pressures of fame, they find themselves drawn to each other, sharing candid moments and stolen glances throughout the night.
Pairings: Drew Starkey x Popstar!Reader
Warnings: None
Author's Note: Let me know if I should make this a short series :)
The lights are blinding, bouncing off the sleek walls and polished floors, reflecting the glitz and glamor of a world that feels surreal even to you, despite having been in the limelight for years. The Met Gala was one of the events you could never quite get used to — an annual, glittering parade of artists, designers, models, and the occasional movie star. Tonight, you’ve arrived with your team, decked out in a show-stopping outfit that had social media buzzing long before you even stepped onto the red carpet.
After the red carpet and photo-ops, you slip away, seeking a quieter corner of the hall, clutching a champagne glass that’s more for show than sipping. It’s here, away from the flashing cameras, that you hear someone chuckle softly nearby.
“So you’re hiding out too, huh?”
You turn toward the voice and find yourself face-to-face with Drew Starkey. He’s tall, with an easy smile, his tux fitting him like it was made for him. You recognize him immediately — the Internet’s favorite bad boy. And despite the flashy lights outside, he somehow exudes a quiet, laid-back charm that feels surprisingly out of place in a room full of larger-than-life personalities.
“Guilty,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips as you raise your glass. “Needed a breather. How about you?”
Drew chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes sweeping over the crowded hall. “Yeah, I’m not too big on these things either. But they told me it’d be ‘good for my image,’” he says, making air quotes with a playful grin.
You laugh, nodding in understanding. “They say that a lot. But hey, it’s not so bad. I’ve already had three strangers tell me they love my latest album, which they clearly haven’t listened to.”
Drew chuckles, his gaze meeting yours. “Well, for what it’s worth, I did listen to your latest album. My sister is obsessed. I think I’ve heard every song about a thousand times.”
“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Then you must be a fan by now.”
He shrugs with a playful smile. “Maybe I am. Got a favorite track, actually.”
Curiosity piqued, you tilt your head, challenging him. “Really? Which one?”
He steps closer, lowering his voice as if to keep the answer between the two of you. “Track three. ‘Lonely Nights,’ right? That song hits different.”
You blink, caught off guard by his choice. That song was raw, a rare glimpse of your private self in an industry that often demanded you be someone else. Hearing Drew mention it, with that earnest glint in his eye, stirs something in you.
“Didn’t expect that,” you admit. “Most people go for the upbeat stuff. The party anthems.”
He shrugs again, an easy smile gracing his lips. “Guess I’m not most people.”
Before you can respond, a voice calls out to you from across the room — your manager, reminding you that you’re needed back on the main floor.
You give Drew an apologetic smile, reluctant to leave. “Duty calls, I guess.”
He nods, his gaze lingering on you. “Good luck out there.”
You turn to leave, but then glance back at him, emboldened. “Hey, maybe we’ll run into each other again tonight?”
He grins, his eyes twinkling under the dim lights. “Count on it.”
As the night wears on, you spot Drew in the crowd multiple times, catching his eye each time and exchanging a silent smile or a raised glass. Eventually, you find yourself back in that quiet corner, escaping the chaos once more — and it’s no surprise that Drew finds his way there too.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he jokes, leaning casually against the wall beside you.
“Guess this is our spot now,” you reply, a smile creeping onto your face.
The rest of the night blurs into an effortless flow of conversation. Drew listens intently as you share anecdotes from your world, and he offers his own, giving you glimpses into the life of an actor constantly in the public eye. There’s a quiet understanding between you both, an unspoken bond between two people navigating the glitzy chaos of fame.
As the night winds down, and the crowd begins to thin, Drew walks you outside, where the city lights glisten in the darkness.
“Thanks for tonight,” you say, the words leaving you softer than you intended.
He glances down at you, his gaze steady. “No problem. Hopefully, we get to do it again sometime.”
Before you can respond, he takes a step back, giving you a quick, almost shy smile before disappearing into the night.
You’re left standing there, with a new excitement buzzing in your chest. The first spark of something that feels rare and real — and maybe, just maybe, the beginning of something extraordinary.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. My work is a work of fiction inspired by different characters, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction
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Same for both. The thing with explaining the reasons with an apology for me is part of the “I recognize how this action was wrong and how I ended up doing this thing that hurt you. I will be making an effort to stop this behavior. I hope you feel okay calling me out on it going forward. I want to assure you that I am aware of what I did, why I did it, that I am going to be working on it, that this hurt you, and that I’m sorry I did this.”
To me the reasons and why it happened shows that they understand and how likely they are to keep doing the same things or if thy ran it, that kind of thing. I’ve had someone who was basically overdosing on Xanax day spent the most horrible shit to me, hitting every insecurity I had about our friendship and after the fact *not* apologize and just said something like “I didn’t reply mean it, I just said crazy shit because I was prescribed a higher dose of Xanax than a person should be.”
Like… okay, I get that… and… it would mean something if you said “I’m sorry, I know it hurt you and I said a lot of things I knew would hurt most. I didn’t know I was prescribed higher dose than I should’ve been until recently and it really fucked with my head in a way that I wasn’t myself.” Instead, I wasn’t sure if she actually meant what she said looking back or if she’d do it again only without her mind being fucked up.
She gave the reason without the apology which made it an excuse and a “so you can’t be upset with anything I said” when she could scroll back and see exactly the things she said to me even if she didn’t quite remember. However, with an apology, I would be able to believe she didn’t mean it and was in a state of mind where she was actively looking to be as hurtful as possible rather than actually believing hat she said. It’s kind of like how some people go turn out to be suicidal try to make everyone around them hate them before going through with it under the notion it’d “hurt less” when it happens. I think of one or two popular youtubers who did exactly that, posting outrageous bigoted shit before disappearing and after hearing they killed themselves, it clicked that’s what they were doing.
As for the telling a story for how thy relate (as I did above actually lol) it’s like… “listen here’s a thing I went through… to me it sounds like what you’re going through, so I hope what I did to get through it helps or if talking to someone who might understand better makes you feel okay talking about this.”
It’s like… it adds some weight or legitimacy to what the person you’re talking to is saying for me. I’d be more likely to take their advice or reflect on how I handle or perceive it vs how they might have. When someone isn’t grasping at all what you’re saying, it turns into defending why you’re feeling and going through rather than being able to just… talk about it.
Idk, been thinking on the nuance of this for a while. I like reasons, I like getting an idea on if this will happen again or not. There’s just a lot of “depends on the person/situation” tho.
#apologies explanations and reasons#interesting stuff#it doesn’t even have to be lengthy#at work I’ve apologized for shit#and as a follow up to days ago conversations#just saying ‘I’ve thought about it had something explained to me I completely forgot this thing we don’t normally do you were right”#and they do say “eh you don ave to apologize”#but I still want to own that i was wrong rather than have them think I’ll never consider why they say seriously
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Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store
Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader
Masterlist: Here
CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.
A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨
“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.
“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”
“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”
“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Then what exactly did you do?”
“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”
“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”
“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.
“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.
“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.
“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.
“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.
“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.
“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.
Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.
He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.
He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”
“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”
“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.
“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.
“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.
“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”
“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.
“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.
“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.
“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.
“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.
“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.
“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.
“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.
“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.
“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.
“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.
“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.
“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.
“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.
In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.
#loving a killer series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#harry styles fanfic#killer!Harry x wife!reader#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#dark!harry#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles#my little lanky baby#mitch rowland#one direction fanfiction
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엔하이픈 --- EMAILS I NEVER MEANT TO SEND (PART 2)
박성훈 x fem!reader x 심재윤 ┊ a very late and long birthday gift for jennifer!! :> ┊ wc 5.8k
GENERE ┊ !oneshot, !nonidol , !fluff , !hints of angst , !high school, !childhood best friends to lovers , !best friend's brother , !love triangle , !hockey player sunghoon , !basketball player jake , !academic weapon reader
DISCLAIMER ┊ depictions may be inaccurate , contains swear words, y/n is lee heeseung's sister , sunghoon calls y/n 'princess' , y/n calls jake 'jaeyun' , doesn't really contain jake and sunghoon playing their sports , y/n prefers strawberries over mangoes , mentions of ocs and random characters here and there.
⟡ 📩 𑁋 TAGGING : @a-dream-bookmark , @/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films
“Y/N, YOU OKAY?” HEESEUNG ASKS, MAKING YOU LOOK UP FROM YOUR HALF-EATEN BOWL OF A CONCOCTION OF RICE, SOUP, KIMCHI, BEAN SPROUTS AND SEAWEED. He sips on his tea, eyes trained sharply on you.
“Yeah, I am,” you reply, feeling a little guilty. You weren’t entirely lying, but it’d be such a fabrication if you told yourself you weren’t feeling down at all. “Why?”
“Did you sleep late? Or did you get dumped?”
“Oppa!” you exclaim, “when did I ever get a boyfriend?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re always sticking around with Sunghoon. People think you’re his girlfriend, so no one’s asking you out,” Heeseung snorts.
Your eyes slightly widen. “Wait—people actually think like that?”
“Yeah, of course,” Heeseung replies, rolling his eyes. He swallows his bite before continuing, “everyone thinks you’re Sunghoon’s, you know?”
“People think so?”
“Girl, the two of you act like a literal couple. You hold hands, kiss cheeks and call each other nicknames like it’s nothing. I mean, those who know you guys are friends know that it’s platonic, but–”
“Then, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” you snap, crossing your arms. Your sudden outburst shocks everyone in the room—even Heeseung stops eating.
“Y/N-ie, you alright, sweetie?” your mom asks from the kitchen.
“I’ll be fine,” you reply. “Hee oppa’s bothering me!”
“What are you saying, idiot?” Heeseung hisses. “I’m not bothering you, just tell me whatever is bugging you!”
“I’m upset,” you declare truthfully. “I want to go to hoco with Sunghoon. But he’s not asking me or anything,” you whine, dragging out each word in a dramatically exaggerated manner.
Heeseung snorts, “if you want to go with him, just tell him? It’s not that hard.”
“It is hard! Oppa, imagine telling your childhood best friend: ‘oh, I like you. Can we go to homecoming together?’. That kind of thing completely ruins a friendship! Imagine if he doesn’t like you back? How would you feel?”
Heeseung leans back into his seat, smirking smugly. “I don’t have any girl best friends, so I wouldn’t know.”
“YAH!” you yell, smacking your brother’s head with your spoon. He laughs, clutching his stomach as you sit back down, pouting. “I’m upset and all you’re doing is laugh at my face.”
“Hey, I’m just joking around,” Heeseung reassured, “I get how you feel—even though I kinda don’t.”
Your brother laughs as you huff.
“I think you should go and confront him about it,” Heeseung suggests, going back to devouring his breakfast. “I’m honestly surprised you told me that so straightforwardly, but I guess that’s the result of me sacrificing my ego to get close to you when we were kids.”
You kick his leg under the table, annoyed by the way he’s laughing as you do so. “Shut up. Don’t make me regret having you as my brother.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“SEE YOU AFTER SCHOOL, Y/N-IE,” HEESEUNG SAYS AS YOU EXIT THE CAR. He waves to you before driving off. You then make your way towards the entrance gate, only to be greeted by an obviously excited and jumpy Danielle.
“Y/N!” Danielle waves, all smiles. “Come on!”
You jog up to her, who’s standing at your school gate. “Hi. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she replies, but you know her a little too well to accept that as an answer.
“Oh, you think I’m stupid, don’t you?” you elbow her, “you’re a bit too smiley at quarter past seven. Something’s definitely up.”
Danielle giggles, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’ve been my friend since middle school. Now I kind of resent myself for picking Decelis Academy as my study abroad option in 8th grade.”
You hit her shoulder, laughing in synchronisation. “Anyway, Dani, tell me what’s going on. Is Heeseung coming to pick you up after school today or what?”
“Nah, I am,” Jake’s voice coming from your left startles you, making you lose your balance. Yet, Jake is quick to grab your arm, stabilising you.
You turn towards the source of the voice, expecting him to be standing at a reasonable distance beside you. But, oh boy, the goosebumps you get from seeing his face merely inches away from yours…
“Oh?”
Jake smiles. “I’m sorry for startling you,” he says, letting go of your arm gently. “What were we talking about again?”
“Yah, Jaeyun,” Danielle interrupts, smacking her twin brother’s head. “Don’t go around and scare people by whispering right in their ear. It’s creepy, you know?”
Jake laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Anyway, you’re picking Dani up today? What does that mean?” you ask. “Don’t you guys, like, cycle home everyday? Together?”
“Yeah, we do,” Danielle replies, “but today he’s bringing me and you dress-shopping.”
“Me?” you gasp.
“Yep,” Jake nods. “I-I mean, I suggested it to her. You know, since… um, my sister’s going to hoco with your brother, a-and she wants to go dress-shopping… I thought it’d be fitting to bring you too.”
“You can help me pick,” Danielle adds, smiling.
“Sure,” you agree after some thought. After all, going shopping with Danielle is something you enjoy doing, and there’s nothing wrong with her twin brother accompanying the two of you.
Except… that the said twin brother is most likely, according to the current situation, your hoco date.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
WALKING OUT OF THE CHEMISTRY LAB, YOU DRAG YOUR FEET TOWARDS THE CAFETERIA. There have been several periods and classes with Sunghoon, yet there hadn’t been any indication that he’d be asking you to go to homecoming with him.
“So,” Danielle begins, as soon as you set down your tray. She waits for you to sit down before uttering, “are you going to homecoming?”
“I think so,” you say, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about it, and it’s my senior year. I should go to homecoming.”
Naeun and Danielle shriek happily.
“Oh my God! My wish came true!” Danielle clasped her hands together.
“We can finally take a trio polaroid together. Complete. As one,” Naeun says.
“Gosh, stop over–”
“What wish?” you get interrupted, once again, by the one and only: Park Sunghoon. He nods to acknowledge Danielle and Naeun in front of you, before sitting down next to you.
“Nothing,” you immediately reply. You shift awkwardly in your seat, uncomfortable by the way your cheeks are warming up.
How on earth did you actually survive being Sunghoon’s best friend for more than 10 years whilst having a crush on him?
Maybe having a crush on him for 5 years has taught you the skill of burying your feelings whenever he was around.
“I’ve known you for 13 years,” Sunghoon says. His left cheek bulges as he chews on his mouthful of cold noodles. “And if I learned a thing or two, it is to never trust you when you say ‘nothing’.”
“Exactly!” Naeun exclaims. “Sunghoon, you tell her to stop using the same excuse every time, it’s so obvious when she’s lying.”
“Oh, shut up, Nae.”
Sunghoon rips open the package of his chocolate bar and breaks it in half. “Here,” he places it on your tray. “You like cookies and cream.”
You bit your lip in hopes to suppress a smile. “Thanks,” you say coolly, taking a bite out of it.
“Anyway,” Naeun grins, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glare at her, already dreading what’s to come. “Got anyone to go to homecoming with, Park Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon leans back in his chair, stealing a glance at you. “No. I don’t want to go.”
You almost spit out the contents of your mouth at his blunt statement. “What? Why?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “I’ve got no one to go with?”
“Well, you can go with me if you want to,” you murmur, afraid to raise your voice.
“What?” Sunghoon tilts his head, eyes staring into yours. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing!” you quickly say, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I-I’m going though.”
It’s now Sunghoon’s turn to be confused. “Huh? I thought you weren’t going.”
“Yeah! I-I wasn’t going to… but Jaeyun asked me… to go with him,” you utter each word with complete caution, eyes going back and forth between Danielle and Sunghoon. “And I’m… going with him.”
Danielle gasps, and at the same time, you couldn’t shrug off the pang in your heart when you witness Sunghoon’s expression morph into something you’ve quite never seen on him before.
Was it jealousy?
“Double date!” Danielle gushes, her eyes crinkling with laughter. “God, I’m so happy! I can finally go to homecoming with my best friend!”
“...have you told him?” Sunghoon asks, somehow struggling to force the words out of his mouth.
“Who?” you reply.
“Jake.”
You purse your lips, then shake your head. “Nope. I’ll tell him after school, though.”
Sunghoon nods, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than it usually does. Then, he turns to his lunch and finishes it in silence, ignoring the conversation buzzing around him.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“LET’S GO?” JAKE TAPS YOUR SHOULDER, SMILING WIDELY AS ALWAYS. You sometimes question in your head, does he ever get tired of smiling?
“Mhm, okay!” you reply, quickly packing up your bag. “Wait for me at Danielle’s class.”
“Alright. I’ll see you there.” Jake nods, and struts out, which leaves you and Sunghoon together.
“Where are you going?” Sunghoon asks, his tone careful and slow. He looks at you, and there’s something in his gaze that you can’t pinpoint.
You swing your bag over your shoulder. “I’m… going dress-shopping.”
“With Jake?” he asks.
You nod slowly.
“Y-yeah. And Danielle.”
“Have you told him you’re going to hoco with him?”
You sigh. “No, I haven’t. I’m a bit embarrassed to… tell him.”
Silence floods the two of you. Though, this time, the silence was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. There was some kind of tension that hung between you and Sunghoon, and you know precisely what caused it.
“Hmm,” is all you get from your best friend after a few moments of awkwardness, that involves you standing straight near your desk, unable to move as you await his response.
“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks, standing up from his chair. His height towers above you, and you gulp in nervousness.
“No?” you say, “I don’t. No, I-I do, but I like him as a friend.”
“Like how you like me?”
Your eyes widen as if a nuclear bomb was dropped in front of your face.
“L-like?”
Sunghoon chuckles, ruffling your hair. “I’m joking, Rainbow Dash.”
Memories flood your vision upon hearing the childhood nickname; vivid like it happened yesterday.
You clearly remember your six-year-old self, sitting on the floor of your house’s play area with a seven-year-old Sunghoon. The two of you had a whole world made out of toys set up—Sunghoon built several buildings and skyscrapers using wooden blocks he brought from his place, along with a few Hot Wheels and action figures; while you had a whole army of My Little Pony figurines out, along with a full-fledged set up of a tea house. You remember roleplaying with Sunghoon, giggling and fighting with each other’s creative imaginations.
“You? As Rainbow Dash?” Sunghoon grimaced, laughing loudly. “You’re too girly, Y/N.”
“No I’m not!” you yelled. “I’m as fast and cool as Rainbow Dash!”
“Fast? You never win against me in any races. You’re more like Fluttershy to me,” Sunghoon declared, a proud smirk displayed across his face. “Softie.”
“No I’m not!” you insisted on a small panicky tone.
And the two of you fought, for the next 30 minutes, on whether you suited Rainbow Dash or not.
“Gosh,” you whisper shakily, “I haven’t heard that nickname in a while.”
Sunghoon smiles—and it’s as if, in this entire universe, it’s only you and him. It’s an unexplainable feeling; one could probably try and portray it as if time had stopped, and everything else around you froze—and he’s the only one for you.
“Hmm? I thought I’d call you Rainbow Dash instead of Fluttershy,” he jokes, “since, you know, you like Rainbow Dash more than Fluttershy.”
“Hey!” you exclaim, “it’s been so long! Don’t remind me of that!”
Sunghoon lets out a train of laughter—and it rushes through you like a refreshing breeze, reminding you of your never ending feelings for him, and how his laughter is one of the things you’d never get tired of hearing.
“Come on then,” he urges you to walk out of the class. “We have a dress to find.”
You follow his lead, your brows knitting with each other. “Huh?”
Sunghoon looks back at you for a second, smiling while he’s at it.
“I’m coming with you to buy your hoco dress. I mean, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t get mad at you if you’re going out with me,” he says, as your legs freeze, unable to move. You’re dazed at Sunghoon’s presence. Everytime he smiles at you, you’re smitten—and it’s as if your body is in love too—it freezes, always.
“I’ll pick your dress for you if you don’t come! I’ll pick the most horrible one!” Sunghoon yells playfully from the corridor, causing you to jolt awake from your trance. “And I’ll tell Mrs. Lee, you’re going out without asking her first!”
“YAH!” you scream, swiftly dodging tables and running out of the classroom to catch up with Sunghoon. “Wait for me, Park Sunghoon!”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“HERE,” JAKE HANDS YOU A CUP OF MANGO YAKULT BOBA, ACCOMPANIED WITH A SMILE THAT YOU WISH YOU DIDN’T NOTICE WAS A LITTLE BITTER. It must’ve been because Sunghoon’s here, standing beside you, you recall Danielle whispering to you a while ago.
“What?” you ask him.
“Take it,” he insists. “It’s on me, so don’t worry.”
You nod thankfully before poking the straw into the cover of the drink to take a sip. Though, before your lips could even touch the tip of the straw, Sunghoon gets himself a big sip of your drink. Bewildered and stunned, all you could do is watch and let your lips form a twitchy smile as Sunghoon perks up from an angle slightly lower than your eye level.
You gulp, suddenly nervous at the close proximity.
“This is good stuff,” he says with a grin.
Your eyes shift quickly between Jake, who’s standing right in front of you, shock painted all over his facial expressions; and Sunghoon, who’s standing to your right, grinning like he’s just scored the winning goal for the inter school hockey competition.
“Hoon!” you smack his arm, “this is my drink—you didn’t even ask!”
Sunghoon keeps his grin on. “I mean, you wouldn’t even finish it,” he shrugs. “Plus, you prefer strawberry flavoured things over mango, right?”
You watch with guilt as Jake’s facial expressions morph into a shameful expression. He lets out an “oh”, and he looks away.
“It’s okay, Jaeyun,” you say, offering him a smile, which makes him rebuild eye contact. “It’s not that I don’t like mango. I do! Just that I prefer strawberries.”
Jake nods attentively. “Ah, okay.”
“Okay, guys! Enough of this awkwardness,” Danielle says out loud, looping her arm with yours. “We’ve only got a few hours to shop for Y/N and I’s dresses, so get your asses up and moving, boys.”
The four of you then walk through the mall, window shopping to find your dresses. Danielle, of course, is the most excited. She practically drags you and Jake around, Sunghoon tagging along.
You naturally enjoy the experience of shopping with your girlfriend. It’s certainly a refresher—sipping on your boba drink as you browse through a wide selection of eye-catching clothing. Though, every time you look to steal a glance at Sunghoon, there’s this off-putting feeling that you can’t quite name—and the reason as to why is evident, displayed right in front of your eyes.
Every time you make eye contact with Sunghoon, you notice a challenging aura blazing through. It’s as if he’s purposely making it hard for Jake; as if to dare him to prove that he’ll be a good date to you.
Honestly, you think to yourself, it’s just one night. It’s not like I’m dating Jake for real.
And you wonder too, why Sunghoon is making such a big deal out of it.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“HEESEUNG’S GOING TO BAWL HIS EYES OUT WHEN HE SEES YOU IN THIS DRESS,” YOU SAY WITH A SPARKLE OF MELODRAMA. Jake chuckles, while Sunghoon simply nods.
You marvel at how beautiful Danielle is—her beauty is enhanced with the purple dress she’s wearing. It’s exactly her vibe—a lilac baby doll dress with ruffles and puffed sleeves—soft and dainty.
“Buy this one,” Jake says.
“Okay!” Danielle happily nods. “What about you, Y/N?”
You’ve tried on several types of dresses in many different colours—jade, champagne red, and light pink. Though, none of them thoroughly suited your taste.
“Jaeyun,” you say, causing the boy to perk up and look at you with slightly widened eyes—not expecting his name to be called. “What do you think?”
“M-me?”
You smile and nod, ignoring Sunghoon’s piercing gaze. “Yeah, you.”
“I-I mean, I don’t know,” Jake stammers, “why are you buying a dress though? I thought you weren’t going to hoco.”
“Well…”
“You stupid idiot, she’s going with you!” you hear Danielle shout from inside the changing room.
You don’t know why, but some feelings of delight wash through you as you watch Jake’s lips form a wide smile. He laughs, awkward and strained at first, but gradually, he gets up and pulls you into a hug.
“Thank you,” he murmurs breathlessly into your shoulder as you pat his back. “Thank you, Y/N.”
Jake pulls away from the hug, and for the first time, you see tears form at the edges of the basketball prodigy.
And, for the first time too, you see Sunghoon looking away from you.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“DANI!” YOU WHISPER-YELL, TRYING TO KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. You and Danielle are in the changing room, the latter helping you to put on dresses. Out of all the dresses you tried—the light blue ball gown dress, the lavender mini dress with bow details, and many other bodycon and babydoll dresses—none caught your eye.
Except for one.
A simple midnight blue babydoll dress, adorned with pearl details and thin straps; one that Sunghoon picked out. At first, you weren’t sure if it’d suit you, but after trying it on, you were baffled by how you look. The dress fits you perfectly, highlighting exactly where it needs to be.
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, pulling your hair out of your dress.
Danielle nods, an adoring look on her face. “Girl, everyone will be smitten.”
Of course, you didn’t believe her at first—but the look on Sunghoon and Jake’s faces made you second guess yourself.
Sunghoon’s eyes stop blinking, and his lips part slightly. Something feels stuck in his throat, and everything dawns on him.
You look absolutely magical.
He can’t pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. You are his best friend, the person he feels most comfortable with. And now, it hits him like a truck.
You’re breathtaking.
To his left, Jake is completely blown away by your beauty. The edges of his mouth twitch, indecisive as to whether he should smile or not. His pupils widen as he takes in the view of you, realising that you really are more prettier than he thought you were.
“So,” you finally say, pretending to not notice the two guys’ gazes on you. You smile at Jake, not forgetting to spare Sunghoon a glance. “How’s this?”
“I-I mean,” Jake says, smiling, “it’s perfect.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]
Dear Sunghoon,
Thank you for picking out the dress for me. I think I like it a lot. Obviously because it’s not what you picked out but anyway! I’m nervous. Not because I like Jaeyun or anything. It’s just the general homecoming thing. You know, the surroundings and the partying… I hope I can handle it.
I’ve got nothing against Jaeyun, but I do still wish you’re my date instead.
Why didn’t you ask me to be your homecoming date, Hoon? Did you know how desperately I have been waiting? Did you know how guilty I felt to be brushing off Jaeyun every single time he asked me to go to hoco with him?
Look at me now. I’m his date for Friday.
Hoon, I wish I had the courage to tell you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you that I like you, and that I don’t care if it ruins our lifelong friendship. I wish I was fearless enough to ask you to homecoming.
I wish I was better. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, but if you ever need a girlfriend, or a wife one day… I’m here. Always.
Sent 23:00 PM, 4th September.
To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]
Sunghoon,
It’s homecoming.
Jaeyun’s going to come and pick me up soon—in like half an hour. I got the girls over, to help with makeup and all. I feel gorgeous, Hoon, but I wonder if you think so too.
I wish the person who’d come and pick me up to go to homecoming today was you. I really want to see you in a suit—oh God, I know just how good you’ll look.
Honestly, even in a hoodie and sweatpants, you look stunning.
Sent 17:35 PM, 6th September.
“Y/N! Sweetie, Jake’s here!” you hear your mom call from downstairs.
“Coming!” you shout back, shoving a lipgloss and a pack of tissues into your purse before rushing downstairs.
His eyes sparkle as they gaze on you, and he looks as if he’s never seen someone as beautiful as you. He stands respectfully by the stairway, giving you a polite smile.
“Hi,” you greet Jake, leaning into his side hug. Jake is smartly fitted into a neat suit with tie, and a corsage is tucked perfectly into the pocket of his chest. He hands you a matching one.
“Do… you want to wear this?”
You make eye contact with Heeseung, who’s standing by the door with Danielle. He nods, and you turn to Jake. “Sure.”
He fastens the corsage around your wrist, his touch gentle and careful. “Is it okay? If i-it’s too tight or anything,” Jake says, “tell me.”
You pat his shoulder. “It’s fine, I’m good. Thank you, Jaeyun.”
Heeseung drives all of you to the conference hall of Decelis Academy, where the homecoming will be held. Upon arrival, Jake opens the door of the car and helps you out.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed hearing the faint music coming from inside the hall, you turn to Jake. “So,” you say, slowing down your walking pace. “What do we usually do at hoco?”
“Hmm, there’s a concert by our school band—you know Jay? He used to be in Heeseung’s grade, he was the lead guitarist,” Jake explains. “His girlfriend, Han Jihyeon, is still the main singer. They’re sickeningly cute, in my opinion.”
You chuckle and nod along, recalling several moments where you’ve seen the couple interact with each other before.
“There’s also plenty of games,” continues Jake. The two of you walk together into the hall, and as you reach the door, he opens it for you. “Oh, and you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, you know.”
You nod, bracing yourself for a chaotic night.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
AFTER TAKING PICTURES WITH JAKE, DANIELLE, NAEUN, AND HEESEUNG, YOU FIND YOURSELF RETREATING TO THE REFRESHMENTS SECTION OF THE CONFERENCE HALL. Jake left to play games and dance with his friends, as well as reconnect with his old buddies who have graduated. At first, he felt guilty to leave you alone, but you insisted he go enjoy himself so much that he gave in.
You bring out your phone and adjust your hair, which your mom had put in a half updo adorned with a sparkly white ribbon. Your makeup tonight is bedazzling too, and you admit, for once, it made you feel more beautiful than ever before. Kudos to Danielle for being your makeup artist.
“Y/N!” you hear Jake call for you. You look towards his direction, seeing him quickly approaching you.
“Yeah?” you answer, fidgeting with the empty plastic cup in your hand.
“Do you want to come and play some games?” he asks. “I mean, i-if you want to.”
“Honestly, I don’t really want to,” you reply, “but since we’re already here, why not?”
You watch as Jake’s uptight and polite expression transforms into a bright smile. “Okay!” he beams, grabbing your arm. “Let’s go!”
You don’t know if it’s Jake’s luminous grin or if it’s the games that are fun, but you enjoyed almost every minute of the games you played. You found yourself laughing amongst Jake and his friends, and found them to actually be decently nice. You too found yourself sharing many greasy yet fulfilling snacks with Jake, bonding over random things such as physics, iconic movies and so on.
When the time to go home comes around, Jake escorts you to Heeseung’s car and waits until your brother comes.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, “I had a really good time tonight.”
You give Jake a smile. “Of course!” you pat his shoulder. “I also enjoyed tonight a lot, surprisingly. Thanks for asking me out.”
Jake laughs shyly, the corner of his eyes crinkling along. He rubs the back of his neck. “Y-yeah! You’re welcome… and you know, I think we should hang out sometime?”
“With Dani?” you inquire on instinct—immediately regretting it after, realising the true meaning behind his words.
“Um–” Jake lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sure, alright.”
The breeze blows, and you realise that you’re wearing something so revealing on an autumn night. You push your hair out of your face and rub your bare shoulders with your hands, in an attempt to warm yourself up. “It’s really cold tonight,” you laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” Jake agrees, swiftly removing his suit jacket and placing it on your shoulder. He stands right in front of you—and you notice, then, how tall he is—and adjusts the placement of his jacket on you. “Is it better now?”
The scent of honey, cinnamon, and freshly baked apple pies mixed with a faint touch of expensive cologne attacks your senses. You pull Jake’s suit jacket closer to your body, attempting to combat the cold winds. “Yep! Thank you so much, Jaeyun.”
“Jake!” you hear Heeseung call from a distance, interrupting something Jake was about to say. Your brother—accompanied by Danielle—quickly approaches the two of you, giving Jake a brief handshake. “Thanks for waiting with Y/N.”
Jake places a hand on his chest before nodding slightly. “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine.”
“Thanks for coming to homecoming with my twin brother, Y/N-ie,” Danielle says, giving you a hug. “We finally get to take pictures together. I’ll send them all to you, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, mirroring Danielle’s smile. “I’ll see you later, Dani.”
“See you!” she exclaims before linking arms with Jake. “Come on, my feet hurt from all the dancing.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Who told you to wear heels?”
Danielle simply gave her twin brother an annoyed look. “Shut up. Beauty is pain.”
“Anyway, we have to go now,” Heeseung recalls.
“Mom will kill me if I don’t get you home before midnight,” he continues, nudging you with his elbow. He opens the car door, signalling for you to get in. “Come on.”
“Bye, Jaeyun, Dani!” you say as you get into the car.
Jake sends you a soft smile along with a nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“WHAT THE HELL,” YOU BREATHE SHAKILY. You’re now at home, in your room—barely finished with your nighttime after-shower routine when you hear knocks on your window.
Quickly wiping your hair dry with a towel, you rush to your window, the damp towel still in hand. You push the curtains open, only to be greeted with a vision of Sunghoon, leaning against the glass with a grin on his face. Your eyes widen with shock.
“Park Sunghoon!” you exclaim hushedly, immediately opening the window to let him in.
“Thanks,” he grumbles, effortlessly climbing into your room. He lands with a soft thud, and he stands patiently, waiting for you to close the window.
“God, you gave me a heart attack,” you say. “What are you doing here? It’s cold outside, you know? How did you even manage to climb up here?”
“Eat,” he replies, instead of answering your questions. Sunghoon then hands you a plastic bag filled with goodies—and you perfectly know what’s inside.
“What’s this?” you ask nevertheless, grabbing the plastic bag.
Before you could even open the plastic bag, Sunghoon excellently answers, “Pocari Sweat, cream cheese with salmon kimbap and ice cream.”
A wide grin immediately emerges on your face, much to Sunghoon’s satisfaction. “Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting down on the heated floor. “I’ve been craving this.”
“You always do,” Sunghoon chimes, sitting down across you, leaning against the wall. Unnoticed by you, Sunghoon stays silent as he watches you eat heartily; your facial features highlighted by the warm light of your bedside table.
Something caresses his heart. Some kind of feeling… It makes him feel full and content.
“Switch on the lights, I swear to God,” Sunghoon sighs.
“No,” you shake your head, cheeks filled with kimbap. “My parents are going to think I’m still awake. Plus, this kind of ambiance makes me sleepy.”
“And?” Sunghoon raises a brow, amused. “Do you want to eat while sleeping?”
“No!” you insist, swallowing a big bite of kimbap. “I want to make myself sleepy so that I can sleep as early as possible.”
Sunghoon snorts. “It’s 12 o’clock, Y/N. What kind of ‘early’ are you talking about?”
He laughs cheerfully—still keeping a low volume—as he dodges a pillow from you.
“I mean,” you defend yourself, mouth still full of food. “At least it’s earlier than 5 o’clock.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, laughter still lingering around him. “Whatever you say, princess.”
Princess.
A nickname that rolls off Sunghoon’s tongue so easily. It’s an old habit—stemming from an incident that happened when the two of you were kids; where Sunghoon had deliberately called you ‘princess’ just to annoy you, knowing that you wanted to be a dragon warrior when you grew up, not a princess.
Though, the same nickname used by Sunghoon for years to no end still gives you plenty of butterflies and heart-fluttering moments. By logic, you should’ve gotten used to it by now, considering the absurd amount of times he called you by that.
The two of you sit facing each other, faces lit by the dim light of your mushroom shaped lamp. The both of you sit in pure silence, the sounds of breathing and occasional satisfactory moaning coming from you due to the food filling the atmosphere.
Sunghoon looks at you attentively—the way you melt into every bite of food that you enjoy; the way that you sit cross-legged in front of him, vulnerable and authentic. It’s just you and him—the pure and bare you; your face naked with no makeup on, your shoulder-length hair let loose, the bangs framing your face perfectly as it should.
“Goodness, I’m so tired,” you groan, laying down on the floor with an almost finished ice cream in your hand.
Sunghoon scoffs, adjusting his lean against the wall. “You’re going to choke on that ice cream.”
You throw him a glare. “Shut up.”
“So, Y/N,” Sunghoon says after a moment of unbroken eye contact, caused by him intently watching you try to eat ice cream while laying down. “How was it?”
You immediately sit down. “Hoco?”
Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Was it fun, with Jake?”
“It was okay. I unexpectedly enjoyed it more than I wanted to,” you reply, finishing your ice cream. “I do think I prefer night-ins to binge watch dramas or movies—like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, or Emily In Paris—don’t you think?”
Sunghoon smiles briefly. He nods, “movies are more of your thing, I think.”
“Anyway, I’m glad I went,” you continue, “I’m in my senior year—we’re in our senior year, and we won’t get to experience something like this anymore.”
Sunghoon sighs as he shrugs. “Homecoming’s not my thing. I thought… I thought it wasn’t yours either.”
You look at him, staring at his features a minute longer. “I-I mean, it still isn’t. I just went because Danielle and Naeun insisted I go.”
“And because Jake did too?”
“Oh, um,” you stammer, “not really. I-I mean, I’ve been shrugging him off for a while now. I even rejected him for prom last year, remember?”
You swear you saw Sunghoon smirk for a split second. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised someone even asked you out.”
“Why?” you roll your eyes. “You think I’m not pretty enough?”
“You are.”
“What–”
“You’re too pretty, people are afraid to ask you out.”
Silence.
You stare at Sunghoon, your childhood best friend, with widened eyes. He looks back at you, firmly connecting the eye contact with some kind of determination and genuineness you’ve never quite seen before.
It took a while for you to finally form a response.
“Oh. Um..”
Sunghoon stands up. “Well, then, sleep well. I have to go now.”
“S-so soon?” you blurt out, flabbergasted.
Sunghoon smiles softly. “I have practice tomorrow. Come watch.”
“Of course, I always do,” you nod eagerly. You didn’t know when it all started, but for as long as you remember, Sunghoon and you had always been each other’s biggest supporters. You never really missed any of his hockey matches and most of his practices; and he never truly missed any of your music recitals too.
Your cheeks blush at the thought, and all you could do is gawk at Sunghoon as he ruffles your hair.
“See you later, princess,” he says, pushing your window open. “Sweet dreams.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected]
Hoon!
I’m so excited! A four-day school trip is really what I needed—just spending time with friends with no worry of anything at all… it must be fun. I hope it’s going to be just like how it is in the dramas; where all we do is play games, maybe sort out treasure hunts and eat delicious food all day. I heard the fee’s going to be quite a lot, so I really do hope the activities are worth attending for.
Also, I think I need to restock on sunscreen and some other stuff. I want to ask Heeseung to take me to Olive Young, but if I’m not mistaken he has a resume to work on and my mom’s not letting him go out until he gets that done.
So…
Okay, I’ll just text you if you want to go. Hope you do, and hope you won’t think it’s weird or anything!
Sent 11:09 AM, 8th September.
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Forced Heat [Fem Chubby Bunny Reader] {Smut + Fluff}
Image from Pinterest by: Ti✦na
CW: Breeding
Not Proofread
You're a bunny hybrid, the last of your kind and through the time in imprisonment in this laboratory you were cautious of everything that did. The food they gave you, the stares, the tests. Everything freaked you out. It took a long while for you to get used to your new living conditions. The scientist in charge made sure to give you a habitat that suited to your needs instead of putting you in a cell since you were the last of your species so they made sure to take extra special care of you. So why did they think to pair you with a predator species that was the last thing you wanted and apparently he felt the same way. “Why am I paired up with this inferior creature?” The wolf hybrid snarled at the scientist. You could only frown at his harsh words. His words stung just because you were a prey species doesn’t mean you are less important than the predators. “We are trying to see if you two are compatible Matias. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” One of the scientists warned him. Matias huffs in annoyance as he stares at you.
He sits down on the opposite of you in the tiny cell they put both of you in. “So what’s special that they had to pair me up with a small and chubby thing like you?” Matias said as he scrutinized you harshly. “Beats me.. I don’t want to be here any more than you do so please can we get this done.” You tried extending an olive branch to him. “Fine but we somehow are compatible enough to be mates. I don't want to hear any complaints from you.” Matias said with harsh glare. “So what’s your name, little bunny?” “[Y/N], My name is [Y/N]..” You told him with an unreadable expression. “[Y/N]” He took a second to digest the information. “It seems to fit you nicely. Yeah, I like that name.” Matias said as his lips slightly twitched upwards. Your eyes raked over his body. He was fit and lean, he didn’t have too much muscle which was good but he also had a lot of scars. “I’m guessing you're a warrior? Judging from his scars.” You asked him with curiosity. His gaze seemed to harden once you spoke about his scars. Your eyes widen in slight panic from his reaction. Matias then let out a sigh. “Yes, I was one of the warriors of my clan. All my scars came from different battles.” He informed you. As he starts to ramble about his scars you choose to get closer to him. He continued to talk and talk until you made it to the other side and sat beside him.
You then grabbed his hand and when you did that seemed to grab his attention. You pressed soft kisses to his scarred hand. You could feel him tense up but he didn’t pull his hand away. A soft ding noise echoed through the room. The scientists then entered the room with clipboards in hand. “Congrats you two. You both are compatible to be mates.” One of the male scientists with a sly smirk. Matias wrapped an arm around your plush waist signaling the male scientist to watch his words. “Alright, I see you're already getting protective of her.” He said with a chuckle. “Alright, guards take them back to their rooms.” The other scientist called for the guards.As the guards escorted both you and Matias back to your room you gave him a small reassuring smile. He saw it and couldn’t help but smile back.
As time went on the scientist found that you and Matias were the best fit for each well and mostly because once two hybrids mate they won’t be compatible with anyone else. So one day they decided to do a specific test only with you and not Matias. “It’s just some medicine [Y/N] relax.” The scientist said in a reassuring tone as she held up a syringe. Although it didn’t look like medicine, you'd rather obey than go without dinner again. So you lifted your arm and let them stick the needle inside of you. They injected the “medicine” and it didn’t seem to take effect immediately you sighed thankfully. You were free to go back to your room but as you were escorted back to your room you couldn’t help but feel your body heat up.
Whatever they gave you it made you go into your heat faster than anticipated so you were humping anything you got your hands on.. Anything to make the aching feeling in your cunt go away but nothing seemed to be working. You whined in pain as you humped the pillow that was drenched in your slick. “Get her mate, we have enough data and she looks like she needs him.” One of the scientists told the guards. Soon you heard the door to your habitat open and you saw your mate and he looked beyond worried. “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry.. Here let me help you.” Matias said as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. He took the pillow away from you and flipped you onto your back. He positions you into a mating press as he aligns his cock into your dripping sex. He hissed as he pushed himself into you. You could only groan as you wrapped your legs around him to pull him in deeper. Once fully inside you he started at a slow pace but then gradually sped up. “Gonna give you some pups but first gotta take care of my baby.” He cooed as he kissed your soft plump cheek. “God my baby is so perfect..” Matias whined as he felt you clench around him. “Focus on my cock honey, focus on how it fills you nicely and perfectly.” He encouraged you as he thrusted roughly instead of you causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound of other hybrids in contaminate cheered Matias on as he continued to help you with your forced heat cycle.
Matias feels you tighten around him, he bites back a groan and he thrusts one last time before he paints your walls white, he orgasm triggers your own and you moan out his name as you creamed around his knotted cock. You start to whine as you feel the base of his cock start to swell inside of you. ”I know.. I know sweetheart this is just to help you a little bit more.” He reassured you as he nuzzled his face into your face as he inhaled your sweet scent. Your body trembles as it slowly gets used to the stretch. After a few mins Matias’s knot swells down and he pulls out of you. You sighed in content as you felt his strong arms wrap around your chubby body. You felt him rub his hand over your chubby tummy. “Can’t wait to see your belly swell up with our pups.” He said affectionately as looked into your eyes. “I’ll protect you and our babies. I promise my love.” He said as he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you” He whispers against your lips.
Image from Pinterest by: Grafik Dizayn
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This is such a great post and I want more people to read it. You articulate a lot of things that I've experienced, better than I've been able to.
I want to add one thing, which is that, under the guise of "many feminist men have no friends", I am nonbinary but was living closeted, as male, for most of my life and still am often seen as such. And some people, including both women and "feminist" men, can be really, really nasty to me when I express even the slightest disagreement with something that they have framed in feminist language, even if the sentiment itself is deeply regressive.
Examples include:
(a) disagreeing or speaking out against statements like "men are scum" or "men or trash"
(b) disagreeing with or speaking out against other negative overgeneralizations about men
(c) disagreeing with statements or defending men when a woman makes a remark that reads negative intent in his action, even in cases where I know the man and know that that was not his intent.
Some examples of this reading of negative intent include:
(1) people thinking a man is coming from a place of misogyny because he is intimidated by a woman (i.e. they assume he is intimidated by her intelligence and want women to be "dumb" or intimidated by her assertiveness and want women to be passive, but in reality the man is intimidated because the woman wields a great deal more social power than the man, i.e. often it's a woman of high socioeconomic status, or a woman who is well-connected in a subculture, and the man is of a lower socioeconomic status and/or is an outsider in the specific subculture, so the women are shaming men for perceived "misogyny" when in reality the women are actually acting out classism towards the man.
(2) a man oversteps a boundary of a woman in a way that she feels uncomfortable with, it could be something like how he looks at her, something he says to her, or a way he touches her. the woman assumes the intent was to make the woman uncomfortable and/or exert power over her. but in reality the man never wanted to make her uncomfortable and he would have never done what he did had he known the woman would have reacted negatively. the actual cause of the overstepping of boundaries can be diverse, it could be autism leading to poor reading of social norms or cues, cultural differences leading to different social expectations and norms, or just individual preferences (the man has had most women before like or respond well to the behavior, and this woman is just different), or it could be social anxiety (the man is anxious and is "lost in his head" and in doing so, overlooks or misreads social cues the woman thinks are obvious), and here's the most aggravating thing, often the woman is intentionally withholding any verbal or even nonverbal expressing of boundaries, like trying to act "nice" and "polite" either intentionally or unintentionally because women are often socialized that way in our society.
These sorts of things happen frequently, but I've noticed that it's totally taboo for men (or rather, anyone perceived as men) to challenge them. When I have done this, I've often gotten a disproportionate amount of hostility directed at me. I have people use harsh negative language, like calling me a "potential rapist" or a "rape apologist" if I say something very mild or gentle like: "Do you think there could have been any cultural differences that led this man to act the way he did?" or "Are you sure that he was able to accurately read your cues and that he didn't just accidentally misread you?" And when I say things like: "Did you try expressing the boundary to him verbally?" people practically explode at me, escalating to language talking about violence, like talking about being afraid of the man killing her, things like that, and then implying that I want women to get murdered and condemning me for it.
It's absolute batshit the way people can react.
So it's not just right-wing circles that can be hostile to men, it's a lot of left-wing circles as well.
Thankfully, I've found great social circles where my friends aren't like this. But it's a serious problem and I want people talking about it.
Thank you for your post!
If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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Checked box
Sirius Black x Potter!reader
13k words
cw: fluff, little bit of snogging, pinning, hurt/comfort (I guess?)
“Black is snogging Eloise Garner in the corridor,” Mary says as she sits down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
“Bit early for a snog, isn’t it?” you ask, not looking up from your paper.
“I’d say so,” she responds, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Isn’t that like the third girl this week?” Lily asks.
“Feels like he’s trying to at least snog every girl in our year and then some,” Marlene answers.
The group is silent for a moment as Mary, Marlene and Lily all stare at you.
“Well? Is he?” Lily asks.
“How would I know?”
“Because he is quite literally in your lap every evening?” Marlene replies. “Honestly, if we didn’t know you, we’d say you two were dating. Or at least you’d’ve been the first one he snogged.”
You make a face at that assumption. “My brother’s best friend, believe it or not, does not confide all of his life’s mission to me.”
“You’re probably one of them,” Mary giggles.
“Except I’m basically his sister!”
“Siblings don’t act like that around each other,” Lily says with a smile.
“James!” you call to your brother who is a few seats down from the group. “Does Sirius like me romantically?”
He looks up from his Quidditch book, eyes wide.
“What? What did he do to you?”
He slams his book down and quickly walks down the table toward the girls. He crouches next to you so he wasn’t towering over you.
“What did Padfoot do?”
You laugh at your brother. “Nothing, James. But these three,” you gesture to the girls around you, “think I’m on his to-be-snogged list. I’m not, am I?” Your words were teasing, already knowing that you weren't.
“I’ll damn ensure that you’re not,” he growls, shaking his head.
“But there is a list?” Marlene pipes up. Her eyes glitter with intrigue.
“Not a list, per se… But he does seem to have trouble keeping to one girl for long.”
“And there you have it, folks! No real list and even if there was, I’m not on it.” You turn to look at James who doesn’t seem to be moving from where he crouches behind your shoulder. “Thanks James. You can, uh, go sit down now.”
“Oooh! Speak of the devil!” Mary chirps, looking toward the Great Hall door where Sirius was entering alone.
“Morning, pumpkin,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair. “Girls.”
James had waited until Sirius made it to the girls. The boys went down to their usual spots down the table. Once sat, James bursts into hurried whispers that lead to numerous glances being sent in the girls’ direction.
“How come I can’t call you pumpkin?” Lily pouts. Of all the pet names, pumpkin was your least favorite.
You roll your eyes before answering. “He’ll be reprimanded later for that. Don’t you worry, dearest Lily.”
“Reprimanded in your sex dungeon?” Marlene gasps, a hand over her heart.
You smack her with your paper from across the table. “Don’t you start a rumor like that!”
“I could totally see you having one though!” Marlene insists.
“What is your dominatrix name?” Lily asks, gently bumping into your shoulder.
“You are all too horny this morning. I’ll see you in class.”
You quickly gather your things, take one last sip of coffee and leave the hall. The day seems to go on as usual for you. You sat with the girls in most of your classes. You’re glad the conversation of Sirius’ list had been left at breakfast. There are minor differences in the boys during classes. They appeared to have shuffled their seating arrangements, but it doesn’t affect you until History of Magic. You usually sit next to Sirius. Instead, you were sat next to Peter while Sirius sat on the other side of James. Peter wasn’t your favorite of James’ friends but you could tolerate him.
There was definitely something different about Sirius in the common room after dinner. You usually hung out with her brother and his friends in the evenings. This would often lead to you sitting with Sirius on the couch, one of you draped over the other. Depending on who was sitting and who was lounging, you would play with each other’s hair or do homework or take a brief nap. You liked when Sirius would read you the assigned chapter because you otherwise wouldn’t read it. This evening, however, Sirius sat in an armchair nowhere near you. You frown as you watch him sit down and proceed to avoid your gaze.
The altered seating arrangement and not sitting with you on the couch continues for the next few days. By Friday evening, it is driving you crazy. You need to know what is going on. You wait until most people have gone to bed before deciding to confront him. Sirius was usually one of the last people up so you knew that waiting it out would be okay.
“Black, come ‘ere,” you say.
He looks over at you with a confused look on his face. He had been watching the fire, lost in his own thoughts. When he doesn’t move, you pat the couch cushion next to you. Reluctantly, he gets up and move to sit next to you.
“What’s up, pumpkin?”
“What’s up with you?” you ask, your brows furrowed. “Feels like you’ve been on the other side of the Earth this week.”
He shrugs, looking back towards the fire. “Just following directions.”
“Whose directions?”
“Prongs.”
“And, pray tell, what did that idiot tell you to do?”
“To stay away from you?” he replies, obvious confusion in his voice.
You pinch the bridge of your nose in mild frustration. “When was this?”
“Uh, earlier this week at breakfast. Made it seem like it was partly at your request?”
You shake your head. “Leave it to James to mess something up. No. He said he would make sure I didn’t end up as another checked box on your list. That would be all him.”
“Another checked box? What list is this?” Sirius asks with a slight chuckle as he looks at you.
“The list of every girl in our year and then some,” you giggle, slightly relieved that it seems like he doesn’t have such a list. “You know, your apparent mission to kiss every one. And maybe get some.”
He quickly turns back to the fire, hoping to hide the brief look of embarrassment that crosses his face. You see it anyway and feel your face flush slightly.
“There’s no list. And you certainly wouldn’t be a box on it if it were.”
“Ouch, Black,” you say with semi-fake hurt. “Cut me deep.”
“Please, I would be neutered if I kissed you.”
You laugh. Your laugh is enough to draw Sirius’ gaze away from the fire again. He loves seeing you smile that widely and knowing it was something he said to get you to.
“Why were you talking about that imaginary list anyways?”
“Mary saw you snogging Eloise and apparently thought I would know if this list existed,” you say with a soft chuckle.
“And James was a part of this conversation?” he asks in disbelief.
“Well, I called him over when the girls didn’t believe that we aren’t romantically involved, let alone never kissed.”
Sirius shakes his head with a small smile playing on his lips. “And that leads to James declaring that I need to be at least a meter away from you at all times?”
“I asked him two questions. Do you like me romantically and was I on your to-be-snogged list?” You pause. “You know, he never actually answered the first one.”
“That would be because he doesn’t know,” Sirius says, turning his head almost 90 degrees to crack his neck. “You know how much he hates being wrong… So he’s not going to give an answer if he doesn’t know if it’s right.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I don’t discuss everything with Prongs. Although, he never has asked how I feel about you.”
You chuckle and nudge Sirius with your shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend like you might have feelings for me. It’s… fine that you don’t.” The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you try to sound genuine. You would be lying if you said you never imagined things developing between the two of you.
“Why do you assume I don’t?” Sirius asks, cocking his head as he looks at you intently.
“Why would you be snogging anything that moves in a skirt if you liked me and you’ve never made a move for me?”
“I thought we agreed that Prongs would have me neutered if I kissed you?” He takes a breath. “And maybe knowing that I could very well lose my best friend if I went after the girl I actually like is the reason I go from girl to girl. None of them make me feel like she does.”
“Wait, what?”
“There’s just more than one reason why you can’t be a checked box on this list,” Sirius says, standing up. “Goodnight, pumpkin.”
He places a gentle kiss on top of your head before heading up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. You stare after him dumbfounded. Has Sirius just essentially told you that he did like you and then leave?
Despite knowing that he was well out of earshot, you still say, “That’s not my name.”
None of the students remaining in the common room pay you any attention as you sit on the couch alone, talking to yourself now. You slump into the cushions and take over Sirius’ habit of staring into the fire. You understand why he does it. The way that the flames dance and flicker and radiate heat is calming.
You are distracted all weekend by what Sirius had said. You bury yourself in homework and use it as an excuse to avoid the Quidditch game. It’s Slytherin against Hufflepuff so your absence isn't insulting to James. Despite being tucked away in a distraction-free corner of the library, you make little progress on your homework. Your mind kept wandering back to Sirius and what he had said. You had worked hard to bury all of your feelings for him years ago, assuming it would never happen due to his close friendship with James. Your feelings continued to remain buried as he got closer with you and never hinted that he might like you more than a friend.
In your dorm, you ignore the comments from Lily and Mary that for someone who spent all weekend in the library, you made such little progress on your assignments, or that they were done extremely poorly.
On Monday, you really do try to pay attention in class, but it is futile. Even after a weekend of him on your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to Sirius, who is in most of your classes. Even worse, you come to realize that you have no one to talk to about it so you can only let your mind spin as it had for the past two days. You think you disguise your distraction fairly well in classes until Remus grabs your hand in Potions before you can tip an ingredient into your cauldron.
“Are you trying to blow up the classroom?” he hisses at you.
You blink at him and then look at what you had been about to pour into your brew. He is right. If you had dumped it in, your cauldron would have blown up and severely damaged those around you. You give Remus a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Remus… Been a bit distracted lately.”
“Yeah, I know.”
You give him a look. “Is it obvious?”
“You didn’t bother to apologize or clean up your spilled inkwell in Transfiguration,” he says with a soft smile. “If Lily hadn’t quickly cleaned it up for you, McGonagall would’ve given you detention.”
“Huh… I’ll have to thank her later…”
“What’s got you so distracted?”
“Nothing too important,” you lie.
“If I’m almost blown up over it, it must be important.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it so it’s… festering.”
Remus turns back to his own potion.
“Must be quite the topic if you have no one to talk to about it.”
You scrunch your face as you add the correct ingredient to your potion, causing it to turn a pleasant blue color.
“What does that mean?”
“You have plenty of people who care for you. And if none of us are good enough, you could probably have your pick of first years who would love to listen to your problems.”
You chew at the dead skin of your bottom lip, looking at Remus and knowing he was right.
“Don’t be mad but sometimes I forget that you are also my friend, not just James’. And that you are the most understanding person on this planet.”
He chuckles softly, not trying to draw attention to himself. “Understandable. But what is it that you feel you have no one to talk to about?”
“It’s too public in here,” you say, looking around the room. “It’s something I can’t talk to the girls about because they will all tease me endlessly if I do. And I can’t talk about it with James because we don’t really discuss that kind of stuff often and he overreacts.”
“And Sirius?”
You purse your lips.
“Oh,” Remus says, suddenly understanding. “Let’s discuss this after class when I’m certain I’ll be in less danger of blowing up.”
Once your potions are turned in to Professor Slughorn, you and Remus leave the classroom together. Lily, Mary and James give you questionable stares as you disappear around the corner. Neither of you say a word until you are more secluded in the grounds of Hogwarts. You walk down towards the Black Lake. Anyone trying to eavesdrop would have a harder time hearing you over the sound of waves.
“What did Sirius do?” Remus asks, sitting down and resting his back against a tree.
Mimicking his actions, you answer, “It’s what he said when I confronted him for avoiding me all last week.”
“Wasn’t that at your request?”
“No. James is a liar.”
“Okay?”
“Long story short, Mary, Marlene and Lily…” you start to say before putting your head in your hands and groaning. “Screw that. Does Sirius like me?”
“He lets you touch his hair. Of course he likes you.”
You lift your head to look at Remus. “Does he like me as more than a friend?”
“What did he say to you?”
“I asked first.”
“I can only speak if I know what he told you.”
You sigh heavily and turn your gaze to the lake.
“Something like he’d lose James if he kissed the girl he actually likes and that’s why he’s been kissing every girl who looks his way. And then that there’s more than one reason why I can’t be another checked box on the list of girls he’s kissed.”
Remus puts his hand on your shoulder.
“Oh, darling…”
“Remus, does he like me?”
“I believe he does.”
You whip your head towards him. “What do you mean, you believe?”
“He’s not known for pouring his heart out. You know that. He’s private with his more personal feelings,” Remus says, choosing his words carefully. “But I have eyes and ears. The way he looks at you, especially when James isn’t looking. The way he acts around you. The way he talks to you, and about you. … And he calls you pumpkin.”
You don’t say anything. You were taking it all in, although you don’t quite understand why him using that pet name held significance. You just want Remus to keep talking.
“You know about his home life,” he continues.
You nod.
“I don’t think I could say all the ways it makes him the way he is. We’ve only heard snippets of it. I think there’s a lot he has walled off. And he has a found family in us. In James specifically. So he’s going to tread lightly around anything that could harm that.”
You bite the inside of your lip. You know you have been let inside some of Sirius’ walls. There were the miscellaneous late nights filled with more vulnerable conversations over the past two years. A particularly horrendous nightmare had brought Sirius to the common room to sit by the dying fire, and you had already been sitting there. You had been unable to sleep with your own anxieties. You snuggled into each other on the couch and talked until Sirius felt okay to go back to sleep.
Even with that memory in your head, the thing you say is, “So James’ irrationality is why Sirius hasn’t made a move on me?”
“Part of it… but that’s not what you’re taking away from this conversation. There’s more than Prongs in this equation.”
You sigh and rest your chin on your hands. The sun was beginning to set and it reflects beautifully on the lake’s shimmering surface.
“You’re also in the equation,” Remus reminds you. “Do you like him as more than a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh.
“Remus John Lupin, I’ve been in love with him since second year.”
The moment you say that, it hits you like a brick wall. The buried emotions all bubble up and you lean back into the tree forcefully. Your head hits the trunk with a soft thud and you groan at the sudden pain. You know that you thought Sirius was cute from the moment you met him but it did take time and a little bit of maturing for you to decide that you liked him in that way. And because he is your brother’s best friend, you kept quiet about it, even to your female friends. Despite playing it off, you were bothered when you heard about him snogging another girl in the corridor. You were bothered when you heard girls giggle about how handsome he was and how they hoped he would give them attention or take them to Hogsmeade. You relish in the fact that out of every one of his friends, he chose to sit next to you in the common room night after night. And you treasured every time he let you see that vulnerable side of him that he kept so well hidden behind his bright smile and boisterous laugh and devil-may-care attitude.
“If that’s true, why haven’t you made a move?”
You laugh again, nudging Remus’s shoulder.
“I thought you were the smart one of the group. He’s James’ best friend. His best friend who has never once shown an inkling of romantic interest in me. Why would I risk that level of embarrassment with someone who is obviously going to be in my life as long as I stay close with James?”
“Do you ever think that maybe he thought the same thing?”
“Rems, I…”
“Love, listen. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you for certain that he likes you. But I suggest you talk to him. Probably when James isn’t around. And if it comes to it, screw what James thinks. He just cares for you and doesn’t want to see you hurt. You are twins after all.”
You sit in silence for a minute. The crashing waves of the lake fill the air as the sun disappears over the horizon.
“Rems, thanks for this. But we did miss dinner,” you finally say.
You stand up and hold out a hand to Remus. He takes it with a smile. He grunts as he stands up, like the old man the boys often compare him to.
“You act like we don’t know where the kitchens are…”
After a quick stop by the kitchens for sandwiches, you enter the common room together. You are greeted by multiple versions of “There you are!” and “I told you they’d be together, I saw them leave Potions together!” It seems as if your disappearance had captured the attention of every sixth year Gryffindor.
“You missed dinner!” James chides.
“We grabbed sandwiches,” you say, holding up your almost finished grilled cheese.
“What were you doing?” His eyes narrow at Remus.
“Talking?” Remus answers, moving past James to sit by in a chair by the fire.
You, however, feel frozen with James in front of you and the eyes of many Gryffindors on you.
“Talking kept you from food?” Marlene asks in disbelief. “Must’ve been some conversation.”
“I’d say it was enlightening,” you say.
“Did he teach you Lumos?” Peter asks from the couch.
“Ha,” Remus says dryly.
“Are you okay?” James asks you in a hushed tone as the non-sixth year Gryffindors slowly turn back to their own conversations.
“Yes? I just needed to talk to Rem about something private.”
“Something private?” he asks, trying to get more information out of you. “With Moony? Come on, what is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. God forbid a girl talks to her male friends.”
“If nothing is going on, then tell me what you were talking about.”
“You are not privy to my every conversation,” you snap.
“I am a bit when it’s with one of my best mates.”
“Your best mates are also some of my best mates, James. Learn to share.”
Your voices were increasing in volume.
“Do I need to talk to him too?” James asks, placing a hand on your shoulder which you immediately shrug off.
“No! And I never asked you to talk to Sirius!”
Sirius looks from Remus to you to James at the mention of his name.
“You asked if you were…”
“I asked for information. That’s all. And you have the audacity to tell him to stay away from me?”
“I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” you spit. “And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be from your friends.” You look over at the boys and then back at James. “If anyone needs protecting from the people you call your best mates, then you need to reevaluate the kind of company you keep.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Let me get hurt.”
You give James one last nasty look before finally being able to move your feet. You disappear into the girls’ dorms. As you walk away, you can feel eyes watching your every move. Apparently if you argue with your brother loudly, the common room is forced to give you all of their attention. Once out of sight, James collapses on the couch, refusing to look at anyone. Lily, Marlene and Mary watch James sit down and then follow you up the stairs. Lily hesitates a moment before knocking on the door to your shared dorm.
“Lovie?” she called softly as she opened the door a crack. “Potter!”
The door creaks loudly as it opens wider. You had changed out of your uniform and into muggle clothes. You are sitting on your bed, lacing up your heavy boots with a small bag next to you.
“Going somewhere?” Marlene asks. She is the first of the girls to enter the room.
“I need to clear my head.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Lily asks, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle.
“Heard about some poachers gathering in the forest. And if I can’t find them, I’ll find some trolls or dugbogs or something.”
“And you plan on going alone?”
You shoot the girls a warning look. “Yes. Evans, if you threaten detention, make it for Thursday.”
Lily doesn’t say anything.
“What did you and Lupin talk about?” Mary inquires, not quite seeing that you aren’t in the mood to talk about that yet.
“Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”
You, having finished lacing your boots, grab you bag and storm out of the dorm. You have to push past Mary who is still standing in the doorway. Your heavy footsteps silence the common room before you finish descending the stairs. Eyes follow you as you leave the common room. Once out of the portrait, the common room roars to life again.
“So… what the fuck?” Peter asks, looking at his friends.
“She’s pissed off,” Remus says coolly. “And I’d say for decent reason.”
James gives him an annoyed look.
“That time of the month, is it?”
“Peter, no!” Remus chastises. “She’s just figuring stuff out.”
“Care to share with the class?” James asks.
“I’d prefer to not spend the next two weeks in the hospital wing so I’ll let her tell you when she’s ready.”
“So we’re going to let her go off like that?” Sirius asks, speaking up for the first time since you and Remus came back.
“Yes,” Remus and James say at the same time.
“Like she said, she doesn’t need protection,” Remus says, sending a wary glance to James.
---
Remus was mildly surprised that when he woke up, Sirius wasn’t in his bed. He was, however, less surprised when he found Sirius slumped on the couch in the common room. Remus approached him, ready to wake him up, only to find that Sirius was awake. His hair was slightly frizzy and dark bags formed under his eyes. He was still in his disheveled uniform from the day before, having never gone up to their dorm after dinner.
“Pads?” he says gently. “Were you up all night?”
Sirius looks away from the fire groggily.
“Huh?” He processes what Remus had asked him. He sits up, his back loudly cracking as he does so. “Yeah. Someone had to wait for Potter to get back.”
“And you didn’t come up when she did?”
Sirius shakes his head before running a hand through his curls.
“She didn’t, Moons. She didn’t come back.”
Remus’ eyes go wide.
“No, surely she came back. You must’ve drifted asleep at some point.”
“She didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”
Remus sits next to his friend, placing a hand on his knee. “Maybe she got back recently and just went straight to breakfast? How ‘bout we go get some, yeah?”
“Let me change,” Sirius mutteres, giving Remus a tired look.
He doesn’t move for a minute. His brain feels too fuzzy and wired at the same time. Convincing his legs to support his weight as he eventually stands up is more of a task than he anticipates. He is quick in getting ready for the day in their dorm. He doesn’t understand how James is still asleep, or how he had slept at all when you weren’t in the castle for all they knew. Sirius ties his hair back and looks at his reflection with his fresh uniform on. Despite his attempts to make himself look presentable, not having slept at all and being filled with worry makes him look exhausted, which is how he felt. He just doesn’t want to show it. He sighs and returns to Remus.
Sirius watches the Great Hall door as he slowly eats some breakfast. He drinks some coffee that Remus pushed towards him, saying something along the lines of needing caffeine if he was planning on making it through the day. When the girls sit down, they confirm that you hadn't been in their dorm that morning and your bed looked unslept in. Sirius groans. The girls exchange curious looks.
Palpable concern and worry finally reaches the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors when they are all sat in Charms and you still weren't there.
“You’re certain that she didn’t come back and just made her bed when she got up?” James asks Marlene.
“Positive. All of her school things were still there. The bed hadn’t been touched.”
“And since when does she make her bed?” Lily asks.
Halfway through class, you enter the room. All eyes turn to look at you. You have multiple bandages over your body, looking freshly applied. You hand Professor Flitwick a note and take your spot next to Mary. You don’t say anything to all the Gryffindors staring at you. You just open your book to the same page as Mary and turn to look at the professor, hoping he’d continue his lesson where he left off.
“Where have you been?” Mary whispers, not looking at you.
“Forest. And then hospital wing,” you reply nonchalantly.
“Did you sleep?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” you assert. “Now shush.”
After Charms ends, the Gryffindors surround you so you can’t slip away to your next class. You avoid making eye contact with any of them as you gather your things and attempt to push through them.
“Going into the forest at night is one thing,” Lily chides. “Not coming back until halfway through the first lesson of the day is another.”
“Okay, mum,” you say shortly, still trying to push through the group.
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” James asks.
You glare at him. “Certainly not to you.”
“You look like you barely came back in one piece!” he exclaims. “I’m shocked Pomfrey let you leave the hospital wing.”
A wicked glint shines in your eyes. “Oh, she didn’t. I just left.”
“Potter!” Mary gasps.
“Macdonald!” you mimic with an eye roll. “If you lot don’t get out of my way, I’ll be late for Ancient Runes and I’m already on thin ice with Raltmole.”
You finally push through the group and leave them in the Charms classroom. They exchange frustrated looks before following you out. They split up for their respective classes, Remus and Lily following you towards the Ancient Runes classroom.
“Did you find the poachers you were looking for?” Lily asks tentatively once they sit on either side of you.
You nod. “And then some. The hippogriffs they had weren’t happy to be freed.”
“Did you bow to them?” Remus asks.
“No? Was I supposed to?”
“Yes!” Remus breathes.
You hum and spin your quill in your fingers. “Now I know for next time.”
Professor Raltmole gathers the class’ attention and begins her lecture. Remus takes a ratty piece of parchment from his bookbag and scrawls a short note on it before sliding it across the desk toward you.
Padfoot waited up for you
You quickly read it, write a response and slide it back.
Is that why he looks like living death?
He didn’t sleep because you were gone
You crumple the paper when you get it back from Remus. You shove it in your pocket, away from Lily’s view.
“I’ll talk to him later,” you hiss to Remus.
An angry Madam Pomfrey yells at you in front of most of the castle at lunch for sneaking out of the hospital wing when you were clearly still in need of tending to. An excuse of not wanting to miss more class seemed to ward her off, but you feel the nurse’s frustrated gaze on you for the rest of the meal. Mary and Marlene ask you about the poachers you dueled as you walked to your next class. You recount a watered down version of the previous night’s events for them. You make sure that your injuries still make sense but their severity less. The girls are simply impressed and less concerned for their friend.
You are happy when the second half of the day is more concentrated on schoolwork rather than what you had gotten up to last night. You didn’t want to keep reliving being outnumbered by the poachers and just barely getting out without being too injured. The fear in the hippogriffs’ eyes haunted you. It reminds you that what you did was right, but they had still attacked you after you unlocked their cages. Sitting at dinner, you gently touch the bandage on her face and wince.
“If it hurts, you probably shouldn’t touch it,” Lily says. “Or go see Pomfrey again. I’m sure she’d love to patch you up more.”
“Going back is admitting defeat,” you say definitively.
You wouldn’t go back, not even when your bandages need to be replaced. You know that the boys have plenty of bandages in their dorm and you could use some of those. You worried that Pomfrey would handcuff you to a cot and place a charm on it so you couldn’t escape. You were determined to not be held captive to the nurse.
You fold gravy into your mashed potatoes until they turn a gross shade of pale brown. Your whole body had started to ache during the last lesson of the day. The pain is stronger than your hunger and all you want to do now is sleep. However, you weren’t dumb. Your friends would have cursed you into next week, or at least taken you to Madam Pomfrey, if you hadn’t shown up to dinner. You sigh as the plates in the middle of the table clear and replenish with desserts. Nothing looks appetizing. You force yourself to swallow some of the potatoes so you could claim that you did have some dinner. After a few bites, you resume swirling the soft mush around your plate.
“Darling, you done?” Marlene asks, standing up across from you.
You look up, noticing that a fair amount of students had already left the Great Hall.
“I guess so,” you say.
You walk back to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. Marlene seems to read your body language, which says you aren’t in the mood to talk anymore. Your face has a hardened look to it with your arms crossed over your chest. After giving the password, Marlene makes sure to hold open the portrait for you so it doesn't close on you.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t smile a little when you saw Sirius sitting on the couch with no one else. Marlene heads for the girls’ stairs, half expecting you to follow her up. Instead, you make a beeline for the couch and lay down, your head resting in Sirius’ lap.
“Hey Black,” you say, looking up at him.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” he asks, looking down at you. “I think you got as much sleep as I did last night.”
“So Remus says,” you reply.
Sirius twirls some of your hair around his finger, something he had done hundreds of times before. Only this time, you see it as something more tender, all thanks to what Remus had said the day prior. It sent off butterflies in your stomach.
“Must’ve been some conversation you two had yesterday,” Sirius mumbles. “What else would keep you out so late?”
You scoff. “James being a prat. But it was some conversation. I think I needed to hear it.”
Sirius’ expression softens.
“What did you need to hear?”
“It was… a reality check.”
You pause, studying the look on his face. You are vaguely aware of the other people in the common room, but the way Sirius is looking at you could’ve convinced you that you were the only one in the entire castle with those grey eyes. Without saying anything to each other, you feel as if the only things you can hear are your breathing and the muted crackling of the fire not far from you. You reach up and tuck a curl behind his ear, revealing his multiple piercings that he’d gotten over the years. You notice his breathing hitch as your hand gently grazes his face. You smile at him.
“So between the reality check and Mr. Bitchiness himself, I needed to clear my head.”
Sirius shakes his head with a soft chuckle.
“I think you should find a way to clear your head that doesn’t involve barely coming back in one piece, Potter.”
“I thought you called me pumpkin.”
“I thought you hated being called that.”
“I do, but I let you get away with it.” You gently poke the tip of his nose playfully. Your gaze briefly flicks to his lips before returning to his eyes. “You’re… special.”
“That doesn’t look like a meter,” James’ voice calls, bringing you back into the noise of the common room.
You can see your brother standing over the two of you behind the couch. His face isn’t quite murderous, but it was getting there.
“She’s exhausted and in pain and you come swooping in?” James accuses Sirius. “I thought I told you to give her space.”
You sit up and glare at James, the tenderness of the moment with Sirius evaporated.
“Excuse you,” you say, a disgusted snarl creeping up on your face. “He did no such swooping. And you can’t tell people to stay away from me.”
“I’m your brother! It’s my job to keep people away from you,” he says, giving his friend a sour look. “Especially when I think they have immoral intentions.”
“Have you considered that I’m the one who came to him and not the other way around?”
“Why would you?”
You blink. “Because he’s my friend?”
“He’s my friend,” James says.
You can’t stop yourself. You slap James across the face. You feel your own face burning and tears beginning to brim in your eyes.
“I see you didn’t learn anything from last night, you git,” you spit at him.
You stand up, leaving Sirius alone on the couch. He watches in silence as you turn to leave the common room. You slam the portrait behind you, earning a scolding from the Fat Lady about respect. The common room remains silent as Sirius looks up at James.
“Prongs, I swear, she came to me,” he says. “I was sitting here and she came to me. She walked in with Marlene long after we came back from dinner.”
“Whatever, Pads. Just keep your distance from her, like you said you would.”
Sirius lets his lips form a thin line as he looks away from James and back to the fire. Technically, he had never said he would keep away from you. James had just insisted on it. James sighs heavily, glancing at the portrait hole. He is glad that you didn’t go upstairs to change and grab whatever you would need to go out again, but you leaving in such a fury wasn’t ideal either. He turns and goes back up to their dorm. When Remus sees how upset James is, he immediately goes to check in on Sirius, letting Peter work on calming James down.
Remus sits on the other side of the couch. Sirius is radiating an energy that said he needed a little bit of space around him.
“Padfoot,” Remus says, speaking tentatively. “What just happened? Why is Prongs in a huff again?”
“He’s accusing me of trying to defile her when she’s not in her right mind.”
Remus isn’t a fan that Sirius didn’t look at him when he talked. He didn’t want his friend to stay up all night staring into the fire again.
“Where is she?”
Sirius shrugs. “Slapped Prongs and left.”
Remus raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Sirius.
“She slapped him?” he asks, trying to hold in some laughter. “Honestly, someone needed to and it’s good it came from her. He’ll forgive her.”
“Do you think he’d forgive me?” Sirius asks, his voice barely audible and eyes still not leaving the flickering flames.
“Forgive you for what?” Remus asks cautiously. “Did you… defile her?”
Sirius scoffs. “No, Merlin… But… fuck. Nevermind.”
Remus scoots to the middle cushion of the couch. He places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius looks away from the fire. His cheeks are dusted with a faint blush.
“Padfoot, be honest with me. How do you feel about her?”
Remus’ voice is soft. It has a sense of pleading to it, as if begging Sirius to admit something he doesn’t want to, as if begging him to be more vulnerable in the middle of the common room than he has ever been before. Sirius just shakes his head with a frown.
“That doesn’t matter.”
With a harsh sigh, Remus tries again. “Prongs doesn’t matter right now. How do you, Padfoot, Sirius Orion Black, feel about her?”
“Like she is the most precious thing.” He closes his eyes and turns his face toward the fire again. “But Prongs does matter. So how I feel doesn’t. I need his friendship more than I need a relationship.”
Remus gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Imagine if everything went right though… You and Prongs could legally be brothers.”
Sirius coughs in surprise at his words. Of course, he had thought about it from time to time. James was his brother in practically all ways except literally. You, being alluring as you were, were something different. You weren't a sister to him. What he feels for you isn’t what he would feel for a sister and it is certainly more than anything he has felt for any other girl.
“Think about it, Pads, yeah?” Remus suggests, giving his shoulder another squeeze. “You think Wormtail has calmed Prongs down enough for it to be safe to go back up there?”
Remus glances toward the stairs. Then he looks back at Sirius, who has opened his eyes but stares absently at the hearth.
“You said she left the common room? You don’t think she’ll be gone all night again, do you?” Remus questions, his voice having more concern than before.
“She’ll be back… Although it might be better if I’m not down here when she returns…”
---
You spend the rest of the week avoiding James. You put as many people in between you as possible when you have to be near him. If he tries to talk to you, you either ignore him or speak to him through someone else. It pisses him off. You also take to avoiding the common room, being that he was often there. For once, you find yourself being furious that Remus and Sirius were James’ friends first and yours second.
Marlene sits down in the library at the same table as you, Mary and Lily. You are working on various assignments, books littering the tables. Marlene clears a small section for her to get out her own work. She shoots a wary look toward you.
“Black’s back on his bullshit,” she says, watching you for a reaction that you don’t give her.
You keep your eyes on your Ancient Runes assignment.
“Who’s he snogging now?” Lily asks. She knows someone has to buy into the bait.
“Charity Burbage.”
“Didn’t realize she was his type…” Mary mutters. “Isn’t she a few years younger?”
“Fourth year, but she’s… mature if you know what I mean,” Marlene answers, giving her own breasts a squeeze.
“Alright, we get your point,” Lily says, cutting her off. “Remember that we’re here to do homework, right?”
You just scoff and keep working. Hearing that Sirius was off snogging a busty fourth year rubbed you the wrong way. You keep thinking back to what Sirius had said and what Remus had told you about him. You think about how Sirius had been the one waiting up for you to come back that night you got into the fight with James. You don’t want to imagine Sirius sucking face with a younger girl, but the image keeps appearing in your mind. It makes your blood boil.
“Potter, you good?” Mary whispers from across the table.
You look up at Mary and then back down at your paper. There were various splotches of ink where you had been holding your quill and lightly tapping it. You sighed in annoyance.
“Guess Raltmole is getting subpar work again,” you groan.
You look over at the assignment sheet again and force a smile. At least you were on the last question. Once you answer it, you could make an excuse to leave. You hurriedly finish and begin putting your stuff away.
“I’ll see you lot later.”
“Going back to the common room?” Lily asks, not looking up from her own assignment.
“Yeah,” you lie. You had no intention of going back to Gryffindor Tower and risk running into James.
You make your way up to the astronomy tower. As you climb the stairs, hot tears sting in your eyes and begin to fall. You have never been so glad to find the tower completely empty. You sit down near the edge of the platform. The cold air feels nice as you feel like you are overheating. Your mind is spinning with thoughts of Sirius. You hate that you had admitted to Remus that you had been harboring feelings for Sirius for years and everything you had buried so deep inside of you had been brought back to the surface. You hate that your friends feel the need to bring up whoever they saw Sirius kissing.
As you look over the horizon, lost in your thoughts, you hear a string of swears from the stairs. You don’t look to see who it was. It isn’t a Gryffindor and that’s all that really matters to you at this moment. When the boy reaches the top of the stairs, he immediately spots you at the edge of the platform. He swears again, having hoped the tower would be empty, but then he notices you shuddering and hears your sniffles.
“Is this where everyone goes when they’re upset?” Barty Crouch Jr. asks, taking a step towards you, unsure of how you felt about having company. He had wanted to be alone so maybe you did too.
You turn your head to look at him. Your face is flushed and eyes red. Tears streak your face. Barty decides that you look too pitiful to leave alone. He sits down next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the platform and leaning backwards.
“Misery loves company, doesn’t it?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you.
You smiled softly, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Depends on the company you keep.”
“Well, I came up here to be alone.” He kicks his legs in the open air. “But you’re not a Slytherin so I’ll give you a chance.”
“And you’re not a Gryffindor so I won’t ask you to leave.”
He chuckles and gives you a half smile. “Lions and snakes can be too much from time to time.”
“You can say that again. … What’d they do to you?”
“Evan… He’s hiding something from me and it’s not good. He needs to let me in, but it’s hard to convince him when everyone, Black, Snape, Avery, Wilkes, tells me to drop it. God forbid I try to be involved in my boyfriend’s life…” Barty sighs. “Everyone ganged up on me, even Pandora.”
“Didn’t know you and Evan… Rosier?”
“Yeah, Rosier. We don’t make it a habit to snog in the corridors like the other Black.”
You grimace. The other Black was your issue.
“What?”
“The other Black…”
Barty’s eyes widen. “You and him? I thought I heard he was…”
“We’re not,” you cut him off. “Which is why I’m up here.”
“I need a distraction from Ev… What’s up with that little blood traitor?”
You glare at Barty. “I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to be like that.”
“Sorry, habit. What’s the other Black up to?”
You shake your head and adjust so your legs hang over the edge too. You sniffle again and blink away tears that threaten to stream down your face again.
“How am I supposed to know if he likes me if I keep hearing that he’s going into a broom closet with a new girl every other day?”
“You like him?” Barty asks. “Of course you do. Just about every girl has a fantasy about him.”
You scoff. “Every girl… Yeah. That’s part of the problem. He all but told me that I’m the reason he’s snogging every girl in our year. And yours. And then some.”
“You’re the reason?”
“Something like James would kill him if he touched me so he touches everyone else.” You roll your eyes and lean forward into the metal railing. “And then Remus goes off and says he’s fairly certain that Sirius really does like me in the way I like him. And James constantly acting like I need protection from his friends. And every time I think I’ve collected myself and reburied my feelings for Black, Marlene and Mary come around and talk about who they saw him with.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”
“Your stupid problem is better than thinking about mine. I know Ev will be cooled off when I get back and we’ll be fine. Your problem is… more.”
“Do the Slytherins think Sirius has some checklist of every girl he needs to snog before graduation?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Not that I know of, but I’m around Reg a lot and we don’t talk about his brother in front of him unless we have a death wish.” He pauses. “Poor wording because some of us do… We don’t talk about him.”
“Hmm… It’s definitely a topic among Gryffindors. Obviously.”
“He’d never be able to finish it.”
You give him a confused look as you sniffle again.
“You and that redhead. The one your brother and Snape are obsessed with.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, Lily would never kiss Sirius. Even for a dare. She’d rather do just about anything else.”
“And I call that a success!” Barty says with a smile. “Got the crying girl to laugh.”
“That you did…”
“May regret asking this, but what set you off? Why are you here now? Sounds like you’re just eternally pining.”
“Marlene said she saw Black snogging Burbage.”
“She’s younger than me.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah.” You sigh and feel tears fall again.
Your mind keeps telling you it was stupid to be jealous over a silly fourth year, but it was unfair. Barty notices you starting to cry again.
“Come here,” he says as he puts his arm around you.
While he and Evan would fight, he hoped they would never make each cry like this. The girl he had only ever seen as a force to be reckoned with was reduced to a puddle of emotions. You rest your head on Barty’s shoulder. It gives you a little bit of comfort to be hurting with someone else.
---
“She’s where with who?” James yells in their dorm.
When the girls had returned from the library and asked if you were in their room, they were met with confused stares from the boys. They hadn’t seen you since dinner and they had been in the common room all evening. While the girls shared looks of minor confusion, the boys shared looks of worry. The boys had immediately gone up to their dorm and opened the map. Each scanned a different section, looking for your name.
“She’s in the astronomy tower with Junior,” Peter repeats.
“Is she trying to get herself killed?”
“You seem far more concerned about her being with Junior than you did with her going off to fight poachers,” Sirius mutters, going to sit on his bed.
James turns to glare at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Just questioning what, or who, you think counts as dangerous.”
“You damn well know that Junior is dangerous,” James growls.
“Oh, I do know that, Prongs. But I’m not. I’m not a threat to her.”
“We aren’t talking about this right now, Padfoot. She is actually in danger right now!”
“Should we be concerned that their names aren’t moving?” Peter asks, still looking at the map. “Neither one has even shifted so they aren’t walking around or nothing.”
The two boys look over at Peter, anger fading from their faces and being replaced with fear and concern.
“That’s it. I’m going to get her,” James announces, moving for the door before Remus stops him.
“Like hell you are,” he says firmly. “In case you’re more dense than I think you are, you’re not her favorite person right now. I don’t think it’s wise that you go.”
“Then who’s going to go? Can’t really ask Lily to go fetch her without explaining the map.”
“Padfoot, you go see if she’s okay,” Remus decides. “Just… don’t overreact to whatever you’re walking into.”
Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips out of the door behind Remus, shooting James a gloating face. Once the door is closed, Remus lets James go.
“Tell me how Padfoot is going to handle that situation better than I would,” James demands.
“First off, you would walk in and blast Junior off the tower. Don’t act like you wouldn’t. And like I said, she is still angry with you. You going would only make things worse between you two,” Remus starts to explain. “Second, it would’ve been best if I went, but then I’d be leaving you and Padfoot alone and I didn’t feel like returning to a blood bath.”
James frowns, although he could see the logic behind Remus’ actions. He doesn’t need to ask why they didn’t send Peter; he didn’t have what it might take to get you away from Barty if it came to that.
Sirius’ stomach churns when he sees Barty’s arm around you. You appear to be willingly leaning into his side. You are sitting at the edge of the platform, legs hanging over the edge and resting against the bars. Keeping quiet as he lingers in the doorway, he can hear you having a whispered conversation. You were sniffling. After a few minutes of watching them and feeling sick, Sirius makes his presence known.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he says softly, causing both of them to jump at the sound of his voice. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
Barty glares at Sirius. They had never gotten along, especially with Barty being one of Regulus’ closer friends.
“Piss off, Black. We’re having a conversation,” he spits, still holding onto you although it was a looser grip.
You had turned your body and propped one of your legs up on the platform. You wipe your nose and sniffle. Now that you were looking at Sirius, he could see that your eyes were red and puffy from crying.
“Everyone can piss off, actually,” you say, voice shaky. “They can handle a night without me.”
You let your leg fall back over the edge as you turn back to looking over the horizon. Barty follows suit. Sirius walks closer to you and sits down only a short distance away, resting his back against a pillar.
“Well, I’m not going back without you. So, carry on. I’ll walk you back when you’re ready.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head, not that Sirius saw either.
“Black, I would’ve thought by now you’d be able to tell when you aren’t wanted,” Barty says, venom dripping from his words. “Get out of here before I make you.”
“Last I checked, she was more my friend than yours,” Sirius replies.
“Guess you haven’t checked recently.”
Sirius narrows his eyes at Barty as his arm pulls her waist closer to his.
“Guess fate is being extra cruel tonight,” Barty mutters to you and you nod in agreement. “I’m going to be fine, but are you?”
“Eventually, I assume,” you say. “I just feel defeated, and that doesn’t help.”
“What did I do?” Sirius asks, knowing that he was what you were referring to.
You and Barty look over at him.
“The fact that you have to ask…” you sigh with a sniffle.
“Do you want me to go?” Barty asks.
“Yes,” Sirius answers.
“I wasn’t asking you, Black,” Barty snarls. “Potter? I’m not leaving you with him unless you ask me to.”
Sirius gapes at Barty. The Slytherin seemed genuinely concerned to leave you alone with Sirius, someone you had been alone with many times before. He doesn’t understand why people weren’t trusting him to be around one of his friends. He didn’t think he had done anything to earn that.
“Stay,” you say.
The one word hits Sirius hard. He feels like he is going to throw up. In what world would you be asking Barty Crouch Jr. to stay?
“What the hell, love?” Sirius asks.
You shoot him a hurt look. “Burbage? Really?”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair.
“Is that what this is about? I thought we talked about this.”
You let out a cold and empty laugh. “We talked about this? No. You were just incredibly cryptic about some feelings you may or may not have as you let James run your life.”
“So you get with Crouch?”
You and Barty look at each other and make faces of disgust before slightly pushing away from each other, as if suddenly becoming aware of how close they actually were.
“We… no. Absolutely not,” you stutter.
“I don’t… I’m taken,” Barty says.
“He is,” you confirm with a nod.
You scoot back from the ledge, still sitting much closer to Barty than you were to Sirius. Barty does the opposite, leaning further over the railing and slumping like a rag doll. Sirius looks from one to the other.
“Then what is this?”
“One upset person comforting another?” Barty offers.
“And you’re upset?” Sirius challenges, not quite believing him.
“You don’t seem upset nor are you comforting Potter. So that would leave me being the other upset person. Yes.”
“Whatever. Darling, can we go?”
“No?”
“Hey, come on.”
“No.”
Barty gives you a wary look. Then he stands up, moving slowly toward the door.
“I’m going… to go. You two… need to talk.”
“Barty, no,” you plead. Your eyes looked ready to cry again. “Please, stay.”
“No, bye bye Barty,” Sirius says, standing up.
Sirius claps Barty on the shoulder, walks him to the doorway and makes sure he leaves. Then he walks over to you and holds out his hand.
“Come on, darling. Let’s go.”
You don’t take his hand. You spin where you sit to face away from him. Whenever he moved to be in front of you, you’d spin again. You know you are acting like a stubborn child, but you feel that you’ve earned that. He allows you to act like this for a few minutes before he gest tired of it.
“Pumpkin, come on. If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to go back and James will come get you.”
You make a disgruntled face and finally take Sirius’ hand.
“What did Junior mean by we need to talk?” Sirius asks as you walk toward the stairs.
“The Marauders need to get their shit together,” you say, not looking back at him and starting to descend the stairs.
Sirius follows you, picking up his speed to stay just one step behind you.
“So it’s not just me?”
You stop abruptly. Sirius bumps into you and you have to grab onto the railing to stop yourself from falling.
“Prongs needs to keep himself in check. He needs to stay in his lane. Moony needs to stop getting a girl’s hopes up. You need to go after that one girl you like and stick to her. I’m tired of hearing about a new girl’s tongue down your throat every day.” You pause. You had brought their friend group’s name into it so you had to name everyone. “Wormtail… uh, needs to be less of an idiot. Get him a real sense of humor or something.”
“And you told Junior all of that?”
“Yes.”
You walk the rest of the way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Sirius isn’t sure what to say that would make you feel better so he settles on silence. You still sniffled a few times, but they were getting less frequent. You seem to be more furious now than sad, which was something of a win. When you enter the common room, you both keep walking to your individual dorms. You go straight to bed, closing the curtains around so that no one will bother you. Sirius is met with James, Remus and Peter anxiously waiting.
“Took you damn long enough,” James says as soon as Sirius walks through the doors. “What did that bastard do to her?”
“Gee, no Thanks Padfoot, thanks for getting my sister back safe and sound?” Sirius mocks. His mind is still stuck on what you had said to him about all of them. He sighs. “If what they both said is true, they simply talked. She was crying; he comforted her.”
“What was she crying about?” Peter asks.
Sirius makes eye contact with Remus. It seems like Remus knew immediately what she was crying about, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of James.
“Coudn’t get it out of her,” he lies.
---
You follow the girls around Hogsmeade on Saturday. You don’t really care where the group goes and you are able to mostly drown out their conversations. Your brain is empty. It is easier for it to be empty than to think about everything that made you cry the previous night.
Mary, Lily, Marlene and her girlfriend, Dorcas, carry their own conversations and manage to stick together as a group all day. They don’t seem to notice that you are in your head. They just make sure that you are still tagging along, not left behind anywhere.
“It’s good to get out of the castle for a good, safe time,” Mary had told you this morning when she insisted that you come instead of rotting in bed all day as you had planned to.
The group is heading back into Hogsmeade Square from Dogwood and Deathcap when they run into the Marauders in the cemetery. No one questions why they were messing around the tombs. With them, it is better to just accept it and move on with your day. The boys insist that they all go to the Three Broomsticks and end their day with as many butterbeers as they could drink. You, being determined to not talk to any of the boys, pinch the bridge of your nose as the girls enthusiastically agree. Lily hangs back as the boys lead the way to the pub.
“We could probably sneak back to the castle,” Lily mutters to you as you follow the group at a short distance.
“So you’re delusional,” you reply. “James will most certainly notice you’re gone.”
“They would notice you’re gone too… Don’t think I haven’t taken note of how quiet you’ve been.”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place,” you hiss.
Lily reaches out to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers. “Well, we can suffer through butterbeers together. And then rot in our beds tomorrow.”
“Lily Evans doesn’t rot,” you snort.
You allow the girl to pull you into the Three Broomsticks after your friends. They somehow managed to push two tables together to accommodate their large group, which is an impressive feat given how busy the pub always was when students visited the village in troves. It doesn’t take long for Madam Rosmerta to get foaming mugs of butterbeer in front of everyone. The group sat divided by gender at the table. You made sure to sit on the same side of the table as James so if you accidentally looked down the table, you had a near impossible chance of making eye contact with him. It helped that he was at the complete opposite end of the table. Although Lily had said you would be suffering through butterbeers together, she is quickly engulfed into an animated conversation with Dorcas, Remus and Peter. Mary and Marlene were listening intently, but didn’t offer much to the conversation. James and Sirius appeared to be in their own world at their end of the table. You were content ignoring everyone’s conversations.
You slowly sip on your drink, looking around the pub. A handful of Slytherins are sitting at a table in the corner. You somehow manage to catch Barty’s eye and you share a small smile. Next to him sat the blond Evan Rosier and he was throwing back drinks and laughing loudly. You could see what Barty saw in him. There was a certain lightness to him.
“Mind if I sit here?” a voice asks, bringing your attention to a boy standing at the end of the table with a chair in hand.
“What?”
You recognize him from classes. Davey Something, Ravenclaw. You never really paid him any attention.
“Can I sit here? All my friends went back to the castle already.”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Davey, right?” you ask, pulling your mug closer to you.
He sits kitty corner to you, despite there being empty space across from you. You assume that he didn’t know that no one was sitting there.
“That’s my name,” he replies with a smile.
He glances down the table to the rest of the Gryffindors and Dorcas. None of them seem to notice or care that someone new has joined their table.
“Anything interesting going on in Gryffindor Tower lately?” Davey asks, returning his gaze to you. “Most interesting thing to happen in Ravenclaw is a fourth year beat a seventh year in Wizards’ Chess.”
You chuckle and take a sip of your butterbeer.
“Oh, there is always something happening in our tower,” you say. “I slapped James. Argued with him in front of the entire common room. Sirius pulled an all-nighter for no reason. He’s also been snogging anything that moves in a skirt.”
Davey’s smile dips slightly. “Been snogging you?”
“No,” you say with an eye roll, before chuckling as you continue. “James banned him from being within a meter of me for that very reason.”
“That what you argued with him about?”
“Part of it. He’s been acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I had a simple chat with Remus and James threw a fit.”
“He got pissy because you were hanging out with his mates?”
“Yes! That’s also why he got slapped. Those were two different days…” You pause as you glance down the table. “And from what I can tell, he’s still on his bullshit.”
“Definitely is bullshit,” Davey agrees. His brilliant blue eyes looked deep into your eyes. “I think the whole castle knows how capable you are at handling yourself.”
“Do I really have a reputation of more than being the female Potter?” you ask, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, darling, you do.”
“Tell me about it.”
You take a drink of your butterbeer, draining it. Rosmerta is quick to bring around another one and one for Davey as well. You hadn’t noticed that he didn’t have a mug in front of him previously.
“If you didn’t have Sirius or James as your perpetual dueling partners, you’d have trouble finding one in Defense class. You’re.. too good. It’s almost scary.”
You smile widely with a faint blush on your cheeks. You knew you were good at dueling. That’s why you went off to fight poachers when you knew where they were and didn’t bother buying potion ingredients that could be gathered if you ventured a little further than teachers normally approved. You had also been told by many teachers that you were exceptional at dueling, but hearing from a decently cute boy did something to your ego.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re amazing in every subject. We don’t have many together anymore. But when we were younger, I remember seeing you taunt James whenever you got a better grade than he did… which was pretty often.”
“What’s the point of having a twin if you can’t be better than him,” you laugh.
“Are you better than him at quidditch?”
You groan at that question. “No…”
“Darn. I was hoping you could make the Gryffindor team better.”
You lightly hit Davey’s shoulder playfully.
“Gryffindor is a damn good team!”
“Your seeker is trash!”
You take a second to think about who your seeker is.
“Isn’t he a second year? Cut the kid some slack!”
Davey laughs. “But if he’s the best that tried out? I’m doubting the captain’s skills.”
“Too bad that isn’t a James diss. For some reason he wasn’t made captain this year, but he was last year. Quidditch politics baffle me.”
“I’d try to explain them, but I think they differ by house.”
“You’re not on Ravenclaw’s team?”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who are.”
“James likes to make it his entire personality so I’ve become fairly good at tuning it all out. There are better things to focus on.”
“Yeah? What captures your pretty little brain?”
“During the summer and over breaks, I’m a top-tier chef and baker. I honestly don’t know what my parents eat while we’re at school because I literally make every meal when I’m home.”
“You cook? Isn’t that what house elves are for?”
“Not everyone has, or needs, an elf,” you say firmly. “But, like, cooking is good for distracting my brain. Although I could be better in Potions…”
“You’re in N.E.W.T. level Potions. I’m sure you��re fine,” Davey assures you, placing his hand over yours on the table. “What else do you do besides dueling, cooking and looking beautiful?”
You feel yourself blush more.
“Merlin, this sounds nerdy, but I really do love learning about obscure magic. Haven’t gotten my hands on any good books yet this year because they are usually deep in the Restricted Section and Pince has been watching it like a hawk.”
“Obscure magic? Very Ravenclaw of you.”
You were trying to not look at his hand that was still on yours. His gaze is fixed intently on you. You have all of his attention.
“I plan on either being an Auror or an Unspeakable after school so a deep understanding of magic is important.”
“Look at you. Big ambitions.”
You look down at your empty mugs. You aren’t entirely sure when either of you had finished your drinks but apparently you had. You cast a quick glance down the table as well. You don’t know why you are relieved that no one was paying attention to you, all completely engulfed in one large conversation now.
“Want to get out of here?” you ask, looking back to Davey.
He smiles widely at your suggestion. He stands up and pulls out your chair to help you up.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers into your ear. “Lead the way.”
You take Davey’s hand and you head for the door. You make sure to bump into James’ chair.
“Oops,” you say with a giggle before pulling Davey out of the pub into the autumn evening.
James and Sirius watch you leave with equal looks of distaste.
“Where’s she going?” Sirius asks.
“Better yet, who the fuck is she with?” James follows up.
The rest of the table turns to look but the door has already closed behind you. Despite wanting to follow them, Sirius and James return their attention to the group’s discussion about whether the foul smelling liquid from Gobbstones would cover up the smell of Amortentia. They hadn’t discussed the potion in class yet, but they had heard of the powerful love potion.
You and Davey walk around Hogsmeade, weaving in between buildings. There’s easy conversation between you, nothing too deep or heavy. You can tell by the way he looks at you and lets his touch linger that he’s looking for something more, but conversation feels so platonic. It feels like two acquaintances getting to know each other, which is what it was. You can’t deny that Davey’s attractive, but there’s no draw to him besides a little bit of attention and maybe some revenge aimed at Sirius and James. You find yourself in the garden outside of the village, walking up to the platform that overlooks the Black Lake. The distant glow of Hogsmeade lights it up just right so it feels far more romantic. As you lean over the ledge, you wonder if Sirius’ method of snogging someone else helps you get over them. Looking at Davey, or his lip if you’re being precise, you debate giving it a shot.
Then there’s a burst of noise that makes both of you jump and look over your shoulders. You can barely see the Three Broomsticks and the herd of people leaving it. It isn’t hard to tell that they are arguing. You can pick out James, Sirius, Lily and Dorcas’ voices. Both of you stare for a moment before looking back at each other.
“What do you think happened after we left?” he asks.
You shrug. “Not sure.”
“Don’t be rash!” Lily yells.
“I’m going to kill him!”
“James! Slow down!” Dorcas yells.
“When I find them, I’m going to kill him!”
“And I’m helping!” Sirius adds.
“Like hell you are,” James resorts.
“There!” Marlene exclaims, her voice sounding more cheerful than the others.
You turn to look at Davey nervously when you notice that Marlene is pointing in your direction and the group begins running. James and Sirius shrug off Lily and Dorcas’ grips on them as they tried to hold the boys back. The two are in a full on sprint with the rest of the group jogging behind them. It appeared that they came to the conclusion that none of them could outrun them.
“Gudgeon, step away from her,” James snarls once he reaches the platform.
Davey raises his eyebrows at your brother. “Why?”
“Because he bloody told you to, you git,” Sirius adds, heaving from running.
“But why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to fully face them. “He came out here with me.”
“And you’re coming back with us,” James says. “Been a long day, time to go home.”
You hum and look at Davey.
“I think I want to stay out a little longer.”
Davey smiles widely at you and then looks back at James and Sirius. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.
“You boys heard ‘er. She wants to stay.”
“James,” Lily warns as the rest of the group approaches.
She noticed before you that he had started to reach for his wand. James looks at Lily.
“Lils, you must-” he starts to say, but then Sirius is ripping Davey’s arm off of you and picking you up to throw you over his shoulder.
Your yelp of surprise is what cut off James’ excuse to Lily.
“SIRIUS BLACK, YOU PUT ME DOWN!” you holler, trying to remove yourself from his grip.
“Ready to go?” he simply asks the rest of the group.
“Yeah, I’m good,” James answers, much more calm than he had been moments before.
Davey watches as Sirius carries you in the direction of the castle, followed by James and the rest of the group. Peter and Remus bring up the rear, shooting him glares for having gone near you. While the girls didn’t seem to approve of how Sirius and James had gone about getting you away from Davey or why they had, they do seem to support getting you back to the castle.
“Sirius, are you going to put me down?” you ask, sounding defeated.
“No.”
“Why’d you leave the group?” Dorcas asks, moving into your line of sight.
“Too loud and hot,” you lie. You weren’t about to say that you were looking for a pretty distraction from the irritation your brother and boy carrying you caused you.
“Just talk to us next time, yeah? We’ll leave,” James says. “Afterall, you know the buddy system.”
“I had a buddy,” you correct him. “Davey is a just fine buddy.”
“A buddy who just wants to get into your pants,” Marlene sings.
“Huh?”
“He’s just looking for a quick shag, darling,” Mary clarifies.
“Which is why we came to your rescue!” Sirius says.
“Rescue or ambush?” you grumble. “Maybe I wanted a quick shag too.”
The rest of the walk back to Hogwarts is quiet. Your ribs have grown sore from being slung over Sirius’ shoulder and your head feels light. At one point, you close your eyes and just listen to the crunching of leaves underfoot.
“Alright, down you go, pumpkin,” Sirius says as you arrive at the entrance to Hogwarts’ grounds. “Figure you can walk from here.”
He puts you down gently and all you can do is glare at him. You walk slowly into the grounds and the group takes that as a sign that all is well.
“Marls, come on. I got something for you in the dungeons,” Dorcas says, grabbing Marlene’s hand and pulling her toward the castle.
The rest of the group follows suit, picking up their pace to get inside the warmth of the castle. You, however, keep your slow pace. You certainly aren’t in the mood to be sitting with them around the fire in the common room after you were literally hauled back. Sirius is the only one who lingers with you.
“You alright?” he asks quietly, bumping shoulders with you.
You sigh and look up at him. Damn those grey eyes and how warm they make you feel.
“Just tired of James acting like he controls my life.”
Sirius nods and takes a deep breath.
“Come with me,” he says and holds out his hand for you to take.
You hesitate. Your mind is screaming both to take it and to slap it away. How dare he offer his hand to you after being the one to carry you back? But, also, he was offering it to you, giving you the choice to take it. So you do. You take his hand and let him lead you down some stairs to a secluded area near the greenhouses. Light shimmers through their windows, giving the small clearing a subtle glow.
“I think James would back off you a bit if I stopped listening to him about some things,” Sirius mutters, standing in front of you. A gentle hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear and lingers there for a moment.
He’s looking at you like he did that day on the couch, like you were the only one who existed in all of Hogwarts, in all of the world. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to understand what he was saying. All of your focus was on the hand that softly held your cheek. He takes a step toward you and before you can process anything, his lips are brushing up against yours. It’s soft and gentle and momentary.
“I think I can tolerate him more if you do that again,” you mumble.
And he does. The second is still soft and gentle, but it lasts longer. It only deepens slightly when he places his other hand on your waist. Sirius is holding you with a featherlight touch like he doesn’t want to break you, but his hand never leaves your cheek. Inside, despite what you just said, he fears that if he lets go, you will disappear and leave him.
“You could never be a checked box. Because you’re everything,” Sirius whispers.
“Then stop with your stupid list, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
"Good, because I think I like this a little too much."
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