#I keep messing up words & editing this I'm sorry
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livewireprojects · 1 year ago
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Got the idea to draw this cause I need to explain shit at some point. Also want to mention I made a mistake drawing the baby cause she's not meant to be born yet.
You can find a bio for the tall guy here(LINK) but pretty much this is Ivan, @tay-likes-toons's OC meant to be Dimitri's husband. Ivan is a quiet man living in a small village that does wood work, he's currently wondering what's going on due to Edred possessing his wife when Dimitri was off doing his job in London. Ivan was the one that gave Dimitri the outfit he has on right now, it was Ivan's old outfit & Dimitri needed new clothes when he transitioned.
Below is an explanation for the baby
The baby's name is Anna Petrovka but she's usually called Anya, in fact her name was Anya for a while before it was turned into a nickname.
Below is the first pic I drew of her
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Anya started off as an idea of what a Dimitri x Emma kid would look like. Dimitri would go on to raise her while traveling preforming his magic shows.(Though at one point raising her with Winston & Emma) She'd become his little assistant doing simple things like have people pick from cards.
As of now Ivan is her father & Dimitri is one month pregnant with her when he got possessed. By some miracle it seems like the pregnancy has been stalled while in the cosmic realm considering Edred & the others haven't aged 4 years when Winston said it had been 4 years inside the cosmic realm when Emma returns. The pregnancy has resumed after leaving it though so who knows what will happen with Edred as he deals with Dimitri's pregnant body.
Though she helps her male mom as his assistant, enjoys his magic tricks & loves her mom Anya is a daddy's girl. She enjoys spending time with him, listening to him read to her & eating his cooking as Ivan is good at cooking & Dimitri can't cook past really easy stuff like toast or frying something over a fire.
Her design would later be used as inspiration for Dimitri's design for before he transitioned. Said design is also now inspiration for Anya's adult design.(She doesn't have one yet the design just shows what Anya could look like in the future)
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itstheghostofmypast · 6 months ago
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Big Spoon
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Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader
Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.
Genre: Fluffish
Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)
Word Count: 1.3 k
Est.Read Time: 10 min
Rating: PG-13
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network
Banner: @cafekitsune
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"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-
"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?
"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.
"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"
"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"
Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!
"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.
"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him
"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."
His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"
"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.
Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"
"We're never getting a puppy."
"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"
With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"
Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."
"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"
"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.
"I like being the big spoon."
Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-
"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."
"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."
With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.
"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.
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Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky
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2-dsimp · 1 month ago
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(period is talking im sorry) dear god. the way i need an absolutely filthy marathon with danny for like a week or two.... is danny cool w degrading his darling? does he fuck with a mean mating press? started crying thinking of danny with a darling dressed as if they were straight outta nekopara...
If Danny the boss has a million fans, then I'm one of them.
If Danny the boss has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE.
If Danny the boss has no fans, that means I'm dead.
(i think im now 🫙 anon. if thats cool)
---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---
Cw: NSFW MDNI FEM! Reader Dubcon, degradation, slight pet play, objectification, creampies, cosplay, overstimulation
---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---
“What the fuck… Did you spill soda on my goddamned limited edition figurine? On purpose?”
You jumped, at the words he seethed under his breath. You were wearing a cat maid outfit determined to seduce your shut in otaku. Which wasn’t all that hard to be honest, but you craved getting dicked down in the most degrading way possible.
Danny was always the sweetest, worshipping your body as if it were the holy grail. Loving on every part of you, it was endearing but at times you craved for his cruelty. Whenever he got that cold icy smolder in his sunken eyes, it always made you shiver from how sexy he looked when pissed off.
“Since you want to desecrate my prized figurine…How bout I take my time in getting payment from your body. Maid-chan? Since I doubt you’ve got the money to reimburse me.”
He hissed in a gravelly tone, snatching you up by the wrist to send you scrambling to grip the edges of his desk for support. The Hitman Boss’s expression was heated as he hunched over you. tired red-blue eyes trained on your every facial expression.
While he one handedly flipped up your skirt, a slender finger snapping at the waist band of your panties. Before digging his fingers greedily in the meat of your ass.
And soon enough your funishment began.
“Oi maid bitch-chan. I didn’t give you permission to stop wiping my figurine down, now did I?”
The Otaku drawled out, having you bent over his PC monitor making you put that be maid cosplay to use. By shakily wiping up the soda spillage with a rag while he humped your ass.
“Keep going until it’s spotless. You can at least do that much besides just being a sweet fuckhole for my stress relief yeah?.”
He had a firm grip on your tail which ensured the rocky slapping of his balls against your folds. As he grinded his pelvis viciously against your mound. To make every pump of his cock scrap crudely within your squelching cunt.
“Cmon don’t get quiet on me now! Meow for me, you’re a neko maid right? So you better act the damn part, you dumb whore”
Your hand eye coordination became extremely faulty from the tremors of the impact he left on your body. You pathetically mewed trying your best to live up to expectation but it came out as a garbled mess. And the Otaku wasn’t too happy about it as he trailed a hand down to your chest to squeeze those breasts like a stress ball.
“Fuuuck. You’ve got me so pissed off you know that? Do you think I wanna call you a useless slut every time your cute ass. Can’t focus on anything other than cumming on my dick?”
“You know how I love to praise you baby so why do you gotta make me the bad guy?”
After Danny creampied your pussy till it was dripping globs upon the wooden flooring underneath the desk. It was only then he had forgiven you for your transgressions. After you finally managed to undo the damage you’d done with the cleaning supplies he had prepared at the ready.
The Otaku did feel a little guilty about wrecking you, so he made sure to give you his anime themed snacks and sat you on his lap to stream some episodes of Windbreaker. He didn’t clean you up of course, he was still peeved. So he figured that you could carry his seed inside you. As a reminder to you, should you ever did that shit again.
.
.
A/n: if you wanna be degraded the best way would be to piss Danny off since it’d be awkward from the start if he’s of clear conscious. You’re his goddess after all and he’d want nothing more than to worship you like the wonder you are.
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megamagimugi · 3 months ago
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He's-a Gone
Luigi time! To suffer, that is.
(CW: character death)
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This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!
Lore:
Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.
Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.
Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.
So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.
Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.
Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.
But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.
[Good night]
…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.
Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!
But alas,
You can no longer play as Mario
Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.
@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!
@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.
Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.
@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf
@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117
And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈
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boiohboii · 1 year ago
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Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)
Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic
When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life
or
in which we finally get to see the roles reversed
N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it
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Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others
itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!
Comments on this post have been disabled.
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Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others
F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.
username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH
username: yn doing God's work
username: yn serving justice
username: that's what we needed
username: hot girl shit
username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her
username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles
username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?
username: another one
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others
itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy
username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?
username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice
username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song
itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚
username: and I oop-
username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!
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Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others
itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️
username: FINALLY!!
username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose
username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️
itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.
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Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others
F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.
username: good for her
username: charles is so lucky
username: I love how she always stands up for him
username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.
username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.
username: this shit was so heartbreaking man
username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim
username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it
username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒
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unboundprompts · 1 year ago
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Hello! I got another request. Can you do prompts where a character is having a breakdown? Maybe they just went through a traumatic event? Or perhaps they're so stressed they can't handle the pressure anymore? Them sobbing in an isolated room. Just having that overwhelming sense of impending hopelessness? Character distancing away from others. Bonus points if the character is normally stoic and apathetic. Sorry if it's a bit too long. I got a bit carried away. I'm just a sucker for these types of prompts. Anyways, I hope you're having an fantastic day today!
Check out my post for how to write a panic attack, I think it might help with this too.
Prompts for a Character Having a Breakdown
-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.
She couldn't stop sobbing. Hot, desperate tears streaked down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Her head was pounding. She felt like she was dying. What was worse, she didn't know what had caused this pathetic display. She had been packing away all of her emotions for weeks now, leaving them to be dealt with later. Now, they came rushing out of her like an angry flood and it left her a crumpled mess on the floor.
It felt like a dam had burst. He left the room without a single word, ignoring the strange looks he got from his friends as he all but ran down the hallway to the nearest door with a lock. It slammed shut, and as soon as he pressed the lock the rampage of tears came streaking down his face. He couldn't keep up appearances anymore, not when he felt like his world was falling apart. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to his knees. A desperate gasp escaped his lips and he pressed his hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet. He couldn't let his friends see how pathetic he was being. What would they think of him?
"Leave me alone!" They screamed, pushing away the only person that seemed to care about them. They didn't care about the consequences, they didn't care that their friend was looking at them as if they had burned them, all they cared about in the moment was that they were falling apart in front of the last person they wanted to see them like this. Their face felt hot, their throat so dry, and their chest squeezing from embarrassment and guilt. "Please," they sobbed. "Please, just go."
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pretzel-box · 2 months ago
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Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D
Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos
Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao
(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)
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Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.
Words: 1,1k
Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!
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It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.
You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.
By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.
Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.
You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.
“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.
You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.
“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”
You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.
It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”
You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.
Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.
“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”
You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”
Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.
The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”
“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*
“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”
You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.
“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”
“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”
He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”
You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.
As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”
For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.
When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.
You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”
“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.
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soapssuds · 2 months ago
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There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair
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Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader
Chapter 4 | Honeyed Words and Commonplace Lies
Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!
Note | reposted because the original wasn't letting me edit it
want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^
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You smoothed your dress out.
"If you keep fretting, then the Emperor will know you're faking."
You sent Blade a side glare, "well, I wouldn't be worrying if you and the vidyadhara hadn't tasked me with-"
There was a knock at the door which effectively shut you up. Your eyes glancing to Blade then at the door.
"Enter."
The moment the word left his mouth, you tried to calm your racing heart.
"Blade. How is she?"
Your ever vigilant and very annoying guard bowed to the Emperor, "she's already awake," he said as he gestured towards you.
And you were quick to follow in a bow.
You never really got to meet the Emperor up close, except for that one time that he took you away from your home. So being so close to him now was ...frightening.
"Y- your highness. I- I deeply apologize for the mess that I caused, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive- forgive me," you stumbled over your words, your syllables wobbling out of your mouth. You could just start crying here and now!
"Has Blade told you anything else?"
You bit your lip as you mimicked a thinking face, "he told me... told me that I'm a princess and that I'm supposed to marry you, but I- I'm sorry. I don't... I don't remember you at all."
No time for crying now! This was your chance. To make him believe your act, or die trying.
So, as you stood before him. Lips trembling and eyes watering, you watched as he silently looked you over. Contemplating his next move.
Though, he didn't judge for long as he took long strides for you. Blade, eyes widening, moved his hand to the hilt of his sword. If he needed to, he would kill you, just as you both had promised, but-
Surprisingly, he didn't have to. As in the next moment, Jing Yuan had swept you up into his arms into a bone crushing hug. His arms wrapping tight around your waist as he pressed your face into his chest.
Blade dropped his hand from the hilt of his sword. Blood red eyes, watching carefully for any hints of danger to your safety.
"It's alright my love."
MY LOVE?! You and Blade both thought in unison.
"Even if you don't remember the love we shared with another. I'll be more than happy to travel this road again with you."
Again?! What road?! You hate my guts!
Jing Yuan then pulled a little away from you. His fingers gently brushing against the softness of your cheek. His eyes, you noticed as you looked up at him, held so much love and adoration, you wondered where these feelings were at the beginning.
But...
No matter.
You knew how he truly was. You weren't going to fall for any of this!
With that in mind, you decided to play the part as you raised your hand to cup his hand that was cradling your cheek.
"Th- thank you so much for not giving up on me. I- I hope that I'll be able to remember you and the love we shared."
Your breath hitched when Jing Yuan leaned down and placed a tender kiss against your forehead. His lips felt incredibly soft. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning into it with how warm he felt against your head.
"No matter how long it takes, I'll be here."
You gave him a light smile, "thank you, your highness."
Jing Yuan chuckled softly, his thumb tracing the skin of your cheekbone, "we're engaged, you know. You can call me by my name."
You felt how hot your face got as you stumbled your words out, "i- I deeply apologize again your highness, but Blade has only referred to you as the Emperor. So I- I- I'm afraid I don't remember your name either."
You felt your hand fall from his as he moved his hold from your cheek, down your jawline and to your neck. His fingers resting there gently as you felt your pulse quicken, your breath immediately becoming uneven.
Blade grabbed the hilt of his sword again.
Then, using his thumb, he pushed it underneath your chin, forcing your head to tilt up so you were looking into his bright, gold eyes. The color flickering in a dangerous light. His face was close, too close. His lips slowly brushing against your mouth as he spoke.
"My name is Jing Yuan. Don't forget it again, little sparrow."
You nodded, but the moment you did, you felt his fingers dig into your neck a bit, "say it."
"Jing- Jing Yuan."
Your voice came out breathless as your hands raised up to grab at his wrist. Your chest felt heavy, your lungs constricted.
You were panicking.
But soon, that panic was gone when Blade's voice broke out into the room, "she's still recovering Your Highness. It's probably best if you don't rile her up too much. You both have all the time in the world for her to remember you, after all."
Alright, so maybe Blade wasn't completely annoying.
Jing Yuan let go of your neck after pressing another kiss to your forehead.
"You're right. We have all the time in the world," he stepped away from you, "but before I leave. I advise for you to get some more rest before lunch comes around."
"Why," you managed to utter out, your whole being still shaking from the exchange.
"Because," Jing Yuan smirked at you, "we're going out."
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sashi-ya · 10 months ago
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𝑩𝒚𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒚𝒂 & 𝑮𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒔/𝒐
🏹 request: anon. For the January requests !! I wanted to ask if you could write some Byakuya and/or Gin head cannons for what they would be like with an s/o who seems to be a degenerate and is constantly acting kinky, only to be inexperienced when it comes to the real thing :> //you can ignore this if you want I just wanted to see your take on it 🥰 🏹tw: mdni. headcanons for byakuya and gin reacting to a kinky but pure reader. soft depictions of sexual matter. edit: I changed the banner, cause I was informed Gin's previous picture was a fan art. I honestly didn't know, since the style looked exactly like Kubo's art. I'm sorry!
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ᴋᴜᴄʜɪᴋɪ ʙʏᴀᴋᴜʏᴀ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
🩰 “How could they? How could they be that degenerate?” that’s exactly what he asks himself before discovering how hard he is. There is something about avoiding repression that gets Byakuya going. Not to mention how attracted he is to your face and how he imagines it tinted in pleasure expressions.
🩰 Every time his s/o makes some type of “kinky” commentary, every word reverberates inside of him hitting against “the barriers” he voluntarily choses to build. His frown gets even more serious, but his lips separate with warm air passing through them. He is glad his pants are that flowy, or else his hardness might start showing.
🩰 At first, he will not proceed. The more “kinky” commentaries you do, the more disapproval his look will show. But then, there will be a day in which he won’t be able to hold back much longer…
“Captain, why are you showing so much of your chest? Isn’t it a bit… improper? Or are you trying something with me?” you ask, knowing damn well the more you tease him, the madder he gets.
“Is none of your business. It’s summer. Is hot” he mutters, fixing a pile of papers he has just finished reading. He is right, his office is becoming steam hot, and you are not sure if it’s because of summer or his sole presence. In any case, you see him squirming just a little, giving you the impression he is uncomfortable with the clothes he is wearing or maybe his body.
“It is, since I’m getting horny because of those collar bo-“ you try to keep going between laughter and giggles, but his shunpo is faster than anyone and your hands and belly are now pressed against the desk. His body topping you, his hardness grazing your ass, his mouth breathing so close to your ear. You swallow, after all this time he has finally woken up… but now, what should you do? You have no idea…
“Since you are that horny… why don’t you let me fuck you right now, right here?” Byakuya whispers, in between panting, with the menacing tone of a man that has been holding back for so very long. It is so weird to hear those words coming from his lips, but they definitely make you shiver.
“Bya… Byakuya-sama, I… I seriously- I was joking… I have never, ever… done this” you excuse yourself. Should you let him handle this? is it the moment in which he discovers your purity? Yet, it sounds so well to let him take it.
He stops pushing you against the desk, slowly helping you to stand up. Lovingly turning you around, kissing your lips so carefully.
“I know you are the purest flower of my garden… you pushed my limits, I should have behaved, and for that I’m sorry” he mumbles, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“No, Byakuya-sama. Please take me, show me, enlighten me, and punish me”
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ɪᴄʜɪᴍᴀʀᴜ ɢɪɴ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
🦢 Gin is not as patient as Byakuya. He won’t let you mess with him for too long, because he will definitely take advantage of your attitude. He knows very well, as wise as he can be, your true nature. You can’t fool him. Gin is not an innocent man.
🦢 He discovered that you were inexperienced way before you could even realize. All this time, he has only been playing dumb.  
🦢 He in fact, will try to push your limits even further, even to the point where you could be publicly exposed for such “indecency”. Some sort of humiliating game that really, really gets him hard and drippy.
🦢 During one of those weekend gatherings, where captains, vicecaptains and soldiers get together to have some sake fill their veins, Gin pulled you closer to him. He remembers every word you said before coming, all the things you joke you wanted to do in the bathroom.
His long fingers, cold and bony, curled around your waist. He kept pulling you towards him, to the point you finally sit on his lap.
His nose, also cold, buried in the crook of your neck with him inhaling your scent. His closed eyes, were shut tight. His lips, planted a sweet kiss on your skin. Before the eyes of everyone there, a depiction of lustful immorality was about to be shown.
“Since you are such a degenerate, why don’t we show them all, all the things you want to do to me?” he asks, very low, in your ear. His hand, snaking down your pants, relying only on the table to cover it up.
“Gin… I- I swear, I don’t- I didn’t mean it” you desperately try to whisper back, this is not the place… nor anywhere else for that matter.
He laughed. He laughed at you.
“I know, I know.. I was just joking. I know you are not exactly what you seem to be. Look at you, all worked up! How fun!”
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idiotmf · 4 months ago
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Hear me out...Amur Leopardess x Cane Corso husband helping her out with her heat
Hey! Sorry for the late response, work is very busy and I'm a chronically sleep deprived mess.
This one is a little short, I really wish I could've come up with more but my brain is so tired, I'll stow it back and maybe reopen this idea at some point.
Edit: Yup, me calling a non-anon anon also proves my point I think.
As always:
Minors DNI, NSFW
Who is in heat again?
When you start your heat, hubby is a little surprised, since you never really let him see you in that state.
You're quite shy when it comes down to it, and perhaps even a little insecure. Of course, he would never let you feel like that for long; he'll lick your body up and down, whispering reaffirming words about how he only wants you and no one else.
So, naturally, when your heat does arrive, he vows to be supportive and alleviate the stress of feeling so vulnerable.
Well, that is until he catches a whiff of you; his mind immediately going into "I must breed my wife" mode; however, for your sake, he tries to keep himself together, repeatedly telling himself that your heat is only a few days long.
He does, of course, help with your physical needs; he can't resist you that much, but he's gentle. Much to your disappointment.
You're too shy to tell him you need more, and he's too worried to unleash his full need for you, instead humping the pillow on your couch during the night when you sleep.
By the third day, he couldn't take it anymore. He's tried holding back; he's tried fucking you gently so you'll cum and calm down for a while, but that's not what he wants; hell, it's not what you want either.
When the evening comes around and he helps you cum again, using nothing but his tongue, instead of stepping away to let you fall asleep while the heat is low, he positions himself between your spread thighs, his cock resting on your lower abdomen.
Without too many words between you, he thrusts inside, not even giving you the courtesy of adjusting. Instead, he sets a punishing pace, the tip of his cock forcing itself against your cervix over and over, making you mewl and purr at the same time.
He's rutting into you over and over, changing positions as he goes. First it's missionary, since you were laying in bed anyways, then he fucks you from behind, but by the end he's got you in a mating press, cum gushing out, but oh, he's not stopping, and you're not that bummed out about it either.
He keeps snarling something about you carrying his pups, but your mind isn't capable of thinking about much other than the way he fucks into your needy cunt and pulls on your tail while his thumps against the mattress behind him.
It does make you wonder which one of you was supposed to be the one in heat. 
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saffusthings · 2 months ago
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It's Written All Over Your Face
oscar piastri x personal assistant! reader
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summary: the one where they learn feelings can be messy. and weird. word count: 15.9k (...) warnings: abuse aftermath, a sprinkle of angst, don't try this at home kids, poorly edited writing a/n: i have a love/hate relationship with my writing of this chapter, but it seems alright. but it's got a couple scenes i'm excited for y'all to see :) also mc is a Hot Mess but i love her sm
Part 1 | Part 2
“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional. “I think s- something’s wrong…”
He pulls her in tightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. 
"Shhh," he whispers. "I'm here. It's okay."
He's trying to be strong for her. He knows that she needs it right now, and even though something inside him is vibrating with fear.
She covered another cough with her hand, only to find it smeared a deep red.
Oh, that's blood. 
"Y/N, what happened?" He finds himself asking, even though he already knows the answer.
“I don- I don’t know,” she wheezes.
It’s been a few minutes since Oscar went into the bathroom. Lando also doesn’t hear any of the tell tale signs of two people… well, getting it on - so tentatively, he calls out for his teammate. “Everything alright, Osc?”
"No" Oscar finally manages to get out, his voice choked and thick. "Things don’t look too good. Can you… Can you go get help?"
“What?” Lando rushes in at the first sign that something is not right.
He turns to give Lando a panicked look, his eyes wide and desperate. "I don't know what's wrong - just go get help or something!" he demands, desperate for someone, anyone to help them. 
He wants to run his fingers through her hair again - wants to be able to soothe her - but he's worried he'll make it worse somehow. 
This can't be happening. This isn’t fair.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come t-to lunch. I was g- going to, b-but…”
Her hands feel cold. Why are they cold?
"No, no," he says, giving her his most convincing smile. "Don't talk, don't apologize - just breathe. Breathe." 
He's saying the words just as much to himself, he thinks. His mouth has gone completely dry, and he's sweating profusely. He can't tell if it's from the heat or terror or both.
Lando grabs his keys and reappears in a moment. “We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive.”
He nods numbly, before forcing himself to think straight. This is not the time.
He tries to figure out how to do that. He's going to have to do most of the work here, but she's already weak as it is. He's going to have to try and carry her. When they finally reach the car, what feels like months later, Lando gestures for Oscar to ride in the back with her.
“Think she’d want you with her,” he explains quietly, before opening the driver’s seat and getting in. Oscar gives the older man a nod, climbing into the back of the car. 
She's so out of it now, his efforts to sit her up only causing her to cough harder. He tries to keep his hold on her strong, trying his best to keep her upright on his lap so she'll have an easier time breathing. 
"It's okay," he keeps whispering to her, countless times. "It's okay."
“It…” Her speech is getting more and more strained as time passes. “Hurts.”
He gives her a pained smile, trying to hide how absolutely horrible this is really going. 
"Hey, I know it hurts right now," he says quietly. "But it's all going to be okay. We're on our way to the hospital now, okay? You've just gotta hold on. You can do that, can't you? Hold on for me, I know you can."
She wraps one of her hands around one of his. The touch is soft, gentle.
It takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s meant to be a firm grip on his hand.
He feels completely useless - more useless than he's felt in his life. He wants to be able to do something, help her out in some way - but he can't. He's helpless here, completely at the mercy of whatever is happening to her right now. 
That's something that makes his stomach turn in terror. He's never been this scared for someone else's life before - and he doesn't like it.
As her eyes become half-lidded, he turns to face Lando.
“What do I do? Something is wrong with her, and I can’t tell what the fuck it is,” Oscar asks, frustrated, an undercurrent of panic in his tone.
"Hey, hey, just concentrate on getting her to stay awake, okay? She just needs to stay conscious. Just keep her talking, just anything. Doesn't matter what it is," he reassures him - although honestly, he's feeling just as scared, just as anxious as Oscar. His friend is coughing up blood in his backseat, and these cars ahead just won’t fucking move. In his mind, all he keeps hoping for is that they'll make it just one damn minute closer to the hospital. Just one more minute.
He starts to rub her sides gently - trying to get her to focus. His face is the picture of calm, a soft small on his lips as he soothes her.
"I'm sorry I got grumpy at you earlier. You didn't deserve that. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," he says.
“…Yeah?” She smiles weakly, trying to make him feel a bit better.
"Yeah, I will," he says, trying to sound brave. 
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Once they reach the hospital, Oscar wraps her arms around his shoulders as he works to prop her up, supporting her weight. He ends up looping an arm underneath both of hers, before he practically drags her along with him. They inch towards the doors of the emergency room, Oscar hoping against all hope that she's still conscious. 
He can manage anything - he'll work through absolutely anything if she's okay. 
There are no clear images - the entire rush of the hospital sounds like it’s happening… underwater?
She can vaguely register that she’s in someone’s arms - probably Oscar’s. The ceiling lights look more like blurry blobs, disfigured and unclear. She tries her best to keep her eyes open.
Oscar is the one to spot a couple of nurses walking out of the double doors, and instantly, starts striding up to them in a panic. "Excuse me? Help, please!" he calls out desperately. 
He's trying to keep his voice from shaking, trying to get her to a hospital bed - and fast. His voice draws the gaze of the nurses, who look at them in astonishment, their eyes widening at the sight of the blood on her shirt. Immediately, they snap out of their stupor and get to work. 
"Bring the gurney over!" one of them cries out, as they push one the double doors open, allowing him to rush into the hospital - the girl now limp in his arms.
“…O-Osc?”
He hears the sound of her small voice, the word coming out broken and barely there. She’s speaking, barely, and for now, this is enough assurance for him that she's okay. 
"Oh, hey - it's okay, we're at the hospital now. You're gonna be okay, okay? Just hold on to me a little longer. We're gonna get you to a doctor, and it's all gonna be good - you'll see," he tries to reassure her, his hands gripping her shoulders gently - keeping her in his arms.
“I can’t-“ she wheezes out. “Can’t–“
He hears the sound of her labored breathing, and his eyes widen in panic. 
"Shhh, shhh, it's okay,” he coos gently.” You don't have to talk - just keep breathin’, alright? You just have to keep breathing," he tells her, voice straining to stay even, his knuckles going white with how hard they're gripping her.
“Can’t breathe–“ she finally manages to get out.
His eyes search desperately around for help, for a nurse, a doctor, somebody to come and help her. He’s just about to resume shouting for help when, like a breath of fresh air, he hears the clatter of the gurney being wheeled in, and two nurses pushing it up to him - ready to load her into the gurney. 
"Just stay awake," he tells her desperately, his face going deathly pale as she is shifted from his grasp. He only just manages to keep the sob of relief in his throat as he watches them wheel her away from him, towards a trauma room.
The sound around him feels like it fades in and out - distant shouts for an IV, for blood, about a fracture causing a lung puncture leading to internal bleeding. Time is too slow and too fast all at once. 
When something pulls at the corner of his mind, it’s only then that Oscar sees Lando trying to get his attention. He feels Lando gently nudging him again, trying to pull him away from the trauma room door - and his head snaps up, almost as if he's been woken up from a deep sleep.
"Huh?" he repeats back to Lando blankly. He blinks and shakes his head, feeling the fogginess in his mind start to clear a little. "What'd you say?"
He feels a little lightheaded - and it takes him a moment to realize it's from the fact that he's still not breathing right, too busy trying to listen to the nurses talk to the doctor through the door. Lando looks at him with a sympathetic expression, pulling him further from the door. "Come on, mate. She's gonna be alright. They've got it handled." 
He lets Lando shepherd him towards some of the waiting room chairs - a little bit further away from the door - as he listens desperately, trying to get some hint of what was happening from the murmurs inside. 
The only things that actually register in his mind is what he's pretty sure is the sound of beeping heart rate monitors - and the sound of the nurse informing the doctor that there's more bleeding somewhere then they'd originally thought.
For a second time, Lando's voice is what breaks his train of thought.
“I don’t mean to overstep,” he starts cautiously, afraid of setting off an emotional trigger of some sort. “But… do we know what happened?”
He blinks, and tries to focus on Lando, and not the faint sounds coming from the trauma room a few feet away. "I don't know," he tells Lando honestly, his eyes going cold like he's about to say something that he really just doesn't want to admit. "… But I'm betting it had something to do with her parents."
Lando’s not sure he understands. While he doesn’t know the exact nature of whatever is going on between Oscar and his assistant, he knows there’s something there. And he’s willing to bet that that means Oscar is the one who probably knows the most here.
His brows furrow. “What, like she’s sick?”
The younger man  nods, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."
"I'm fine, Lando," he says quietly when Lando seems to continue to hover nearby - because he thinks maybe Lando's concerned about him, and he needs his best friend to understand that right now, he's okay. "I'm just worried about her."
“And why’s that?” Lando asks knowingly.
"Because she-" he stops himself again, realizing that the one thing he doesn't want to say about her is exactly what he's just about to blurt out. But before he can utter another word, their attention is stolen by commotion in the trauma room.
His head immediately snaps up, eyes wide as he takes in the noise. The heart rate monitor sounds different - the rhythm of the beeping is somehow even more intense. It makes a strange sense of panic encroaching across his chest - the way suspense music in horror movies are meant to, except a dozen times worse. 
He can make out the sounds of nurses shouting different medical directives and things to each other. 
What the hell is going on in there?
His throat tightens as he takes in the noise. There’s shouting - they're commanding each other to do things, and it sounds like discord. It sounds too hurried, and incessant beeping of  the heart rate monitor doesn’t ease up either.. 
Lando spares a quick glance to check on Oscar, worried for him. He knows this cant be easy for him, and yet, Oscar's face has the serenity of a blank slate. He then turns his attention back to the room, trying to observe and figure out what’s going on through the small windows on the doors to the trauma room. Oscar, of course, does the same.
He can barely see anything through the little window. 
It's all flashes of movement, and he's not even sure which colours belong to who - but whatever is happening, it's happening really fast. The nurses are still shouting and the heart rate monitor is still beeping furiously and no-one has come out to tell him what's happening, and nothing about this seems remotely okay.
This isn’t real.
This isn’t real. It’s all he can think, feel - over and over again. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.
When Lando turns to look at Oscar, he’s gone pale.
Paler than usual.
“Oscar?” Lando’s voice sounds far away. “Osc? Hey, mate, I need you to look at me, okay? You need to breathe, yeah?” He feels Lando's hands on his face, gripping his chin and turning his head towards him. 
He opens his eyes slowly - they're wet. 
When did the room start getting blurry for him? 
God, this feels like his worst nightmare is coming true.
If Oscar thought he was scared before, when the commotion started?
Then his heart stills in his fucking chest when the commotion is no more.
No. 
No, no, no, no. 
The silence feels all-encompassing - like it's drowning his senses. His chest feels impossibly tight. The room disappears - the noise around him mutes into a dull roar, and he can't breathe right now. He can't even feel his own fingertips.
“Sir?” A young man tries, attempting to get Oscar’s attention.
His head snaps up at the word, eyes blinking back into sharpness and his vision sharpening in an instant. He looks around, the sound of the nurse's voice bringing him back to his senses. 
“Are you…” the young resident checks his clipboard. “… Mr. Piastri?”
The Australian nods quickly, swallowing hard before speaking. 
He knows his voice is shaky right now. It's obvious that he's freaked out right now - everyone who walks by him is looking at him like he's going to fall apart, and he would if they'd just tell him what happened to her. 
"Y-yeah," he manages, "that's me. That's me. Can you tell me what's going on?"
“Could you provide a valid form of identification? It’s all procedure - we can’t release medical information to anyone except to the emergency contact we have on file,” he explains.
Right. Right. 
Provide information. Valid form of ID. Procedure. 
It's all very logical. It's all very reasonable. 
Oscar nods, reaching for the wallet on the other side of his back pocket. His fingers are only shaking a little, but it takes him an absurdly long time to pull out the card - because he can't remember where he keeps his ID and when he finally does find it, his hands feel some degree of numbness.
Lando puts a warm hand on his. “Mate, breathe,” he whispers, trying to get him to calm down. He’s just watched Oscar fumble with his ID four different times as he fails to slip it out of his wallet.
Lando gives him a small smile that he hopes is at least a little reassuring.
He takes a slow deep breath in and out - his fingers still shaking. Come on, Piastri. He tells himself - but the words ring false in his mind right now when he doesn't feel like he's really fully himself at this very moment. 
Someone needs to tell him what's wrong with her.
“Mate, he needs your ID,” Lando grounds him gently.
"Right. Right. Yeah," he agrees, trying to compose himself. It's impossible. He can't think straight. 
He finally manages to pry his ID from his shaky fingers, handing it to the man in the powder blue scrubs without another word. The assistant, after taking a moment to confirm, returns his ID and checks his notes before eyeing Lando warily, unsure if he should provide Y/N’s medical update in front of the third party.
He’s not looking to get fired, after all.
When all he gets in turn is a nod of confirmation from her emergency contact, the assistant swallows, and then starts to speak. 
"Based on the X-rays and MRI tests, we’ve been able to conclude that Ms. L/N has suffered an extensive lung injury. That's most likely the cause of the bleeding. We've also taken her to intensive care for urgent treatment."
The man in the lab coat hesitates before ultimately continuing.
“Right now, the doctor suspects the cause to be an untreated fracture of her ribs,” he reads off his documents before looking up at Oscar. “We believe that the cracked rib or ribs placed pressure on the lung, causing a puncture and the subsequent internal bleeding.”
Cracked ribs.
He wants to throw up. He thinks he might even dry heave for a second, but he stops himself. "I don't- I don't understand," he tries to say, his voice thick.
Lando watches the blood drain from Oscar's face. He needs to get Oscar out of the situation - out before the dam breaks. So he takes a small step closer and rests a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder again. 
"C'mon," he says gently. "Let's go take a walk, yeah?"
Lando’s caught off guard when Oscar plants himself in that spot, his body resisting the older man’s hold.
"No." he forces himself to say. He can't think straight right now, but he doesn't want to move from the exact spot he's standing in. 
He stares at Lando, his jaw clenched, "I'm not leaving until I see her."
“Oscar-,” Lando tries, gently yet firmly using his arm to usher Oscar in the direction of the door leading outside.
He knows what Lando's trying to do - he's trying to help him not freak out in public, he's trying to keep him from falling apart in front of the nurses. 
Goddammit, Lando. Leave me alone. 
He shakes his head, his hands subtly clenching into fists, "No! I'm not- I don't need to go outside, okay? I'm fine! Just let go of me!"
He glances at Lando, his face desperate, before he repeats his plea, trying to focus on the one thing he wants right now.
"I'm not leaving until we see her."
Lando’s hands come up to both sides of Oscar’s face. They don’t shake him, but they do hold him - Lando’s hands a warm and firm pressure against him. “Mate,” Lando says slowly, evenly. He makes it a point to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not talking sense. I need to know what’s going on, yeah?”
Oscar meets Lando's eyes, taking a steadying breath. "I just… I need to know that she's okay," Oscar whispers, his voice rough and hoarse.
“Okay,” Lando nods, trying his best to be understanding. “Yeah, I’m with you there.”
Lando’s eyes search his face for any indication of what he’s thinking.
"I like her," Oscar says quietly, finally managing to meet Lando's eyes, "A lot more than I should, and I'm afraid she might…" 
Oh.
That wasn’t what Lando was expecting. But I can work with that, Lando thinks.
Lando nods, and he understands and for some reason, Oscar feels like he might start crying in sheer relief right there. That, of course, would be horribly embarrassing. His pride won't let him do it, so he holds back. But he thinks he can start breathing a little bit easier, knowing that Lando gets it.
He swallows hard, his eyes closing for a moment as he forces the words out, "With her, it's just… it's different, y’know? Like someone who speaks your language in foreign land, she just-"
He cuts himself off, choking on the words.
“Yeah?” Lando teases good naturedly. Sue him for having a little fun with it. “Sounds like she’s special.”
Oscar nods. "Yeah," he says softly. "She is."  He looks up to find him wearing a small smile. 
“Say, how’d you bag an assistant like that anyway? No way she came ‘cause of your stats,” Lando shrugs, something smug brewing in the curve of his lips. 
Lando sounds genuinely curious as he asks, and it throws Oscar off a bit.
"I…" He stops, trying to force his mind to work right now. "She started out as a junior assistant at the team," he continues, trying to focus, but the memory of her at the beginning - her shy smile, her quiet, gentle nature - it's all flooding his mind again.
"She was… shy. More than shy - she didn't really talk, but- she was so quiet. The others-... they’d crack jokes about it, snide remarks and the like.."
"But when she did talk, she was... she was just so smart. And know how her sense of humor is - hers are the jokes that are actually funny.”
“That so?”
"Yeah," he says, the memory still fresh in his mind. He'd watched, completely entranced. 
He'd never thought of taking the assistant out for a drink before, but he'd somehow found himself offering her one that weekend.
"She didn't agree to go," he remembers, his mouth curving into a bitter smile. "I think she thought it was like, a joke or something. Like I was doing it to make fun of her."
"She was pretty wary the first few times," he continues, his voice softer now. She'd always been shy and quiet as his assistant, but once he'd begun to earn her trust, slowly but surely. It was only then he'd seen a different side to her - the confident, sweet, gentle persona that only he was privy to. 
"But then she got a little more open, a little more herself- god. It was this beautiful thing."
The idiot’s in love, Lando thinks. But some self-preservation instinct tells him that if he’d like to keep his body and his car intact, then he should keep his mouth shut.
At least this once.
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They cross the threshold into the room, the sight of her broken body in a hospital bed greeting Oscar immediately. The room smells overwhelmingly of hand sanitizer, paper products and latex gloves. Fluorescent lights are dimmed, a couple of them on across the tiled ceiling.
She lays there, still and silent - not unlike the way she’d been asleep in his bed just last night. But like sand slipping through his fingers, that image gives way to the one before him: the present.
There’s dried blood on her lips from when she’d been spitting up blood earlier. She’s connected to all sorts of machines - the IV, the heart rate monitor, a couple other things Oscar’s sure must also be important. She’d hate this, he finds himself thinking.
Instinctively, he steps closer.
He’s almost frightened to get too close to her, too scared to make the wrong move somehow as he stands by the edge of the bed. She’s always had an elegance - a grace - about her that’s always commanded his attention. But right now, it’s all gone.
“They had to put her under to stop her from trying to speak or move,” an attendant pipes up, from where she’s been noting down her vitals in the corner of the. “Because of the fracture in her ribs.”
Oscar's face remains the picture of neutral, dancing somewhere between stoic and lost. 
“She can still hear you,” he informs him quietly.
He reaches forward, resting his hand carefully on the top of her head, his fingers gently smoothing down her loose strands of hair. “I’m here now,” he murmurs quietly, his voice cracking with an emotion he can’t place. “You’re okay - you’re okay,” he repeats, more to himself than to her.
He watches her for a moment again - she looks more peaceful now, now that he’s standing here, talking to her. His fingers move through her hair, the way he sometimes did when she’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder. 
“Do you think she can feel too?” he asks aloud, directed towards no one in particular. The attendant has left the room a while ago, but minutes blend together into one long indiscernible stretch of time.
Lando seems to consider the question thoroughly, his brow furrowed. 
“I’d say so,” he answers, quietly. “She might not react to it, because of the drugs, but her brain would register the touch regardless. I don’t think there’s anything that would stop her from feeling it.”
He takes his free hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around her much smaller, bruised one.
Lando briefly wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him when the beeping of the heart monitor speeds up by a fraction of a second.
Oscar, on the other hand, remains focused elsewhere. It’s the oddest thing, he thinks - how he was dying to be near her and now that he is, he’s not sure what to say.
Say something, he thinks to himself. 
But he’s drawing a blank. Everything he thought he’d say to her in a position like this vanishes from his mind and he’s left standing here, still holding her hand, a complete and utter blank.
He looks down at her face again, studying her. He can make out a scratch on her forehead that seems to disappear into her hairline, and he carefully runs his thumb over it. He stays like that, running his thumb over her forehead, over her eyebrow... until his eyes finally move down to her mouth. 
He pauses, watching the slight part of her lips, her lower lip still caked with the dried blood.
He doesn’t quite know why, but all of a sudden the idea of her being dirty, of being covered in blood - of looking so unlike her - feels like venom in his veins. 
His gaze is fixated on the dried blood stuck to her lip, and on an impulse, he grabs the tissue that’s resting nearby and reaches forward to clean it away. His touch is so gentle as he brushes the tissue over her lower lip, the dried blood coming off on the tissue. 
He wants the image of her, bloody, dirty, to stop plaguing his mind - he wants her to look like herself again.
He continues wiping carefully, his touch feather-light, wiping away the dirt that’s stained her face. She deserves to be clean, to be safe, and so he keeps gently wiping at her lip long after the blood’s gone from her face.
“Osc,” Lando calls tentatively, trying to bring him back to the present from wherever his mind has gone. “It’s alright, it’s okay. She’s clean.”
He snaps out of his reverie at Lando’s voice, stopping the repetitive brushing of the tissue against her lip. 
“I miss her too, y’know,” Lando pipes up. He’s not sure whether that’s helpful, but he says it anyway. The younger man doesn’t turn around to look at Lando, eyes still fixed on her face, afraid to miss anything if he loses focus for just a second. 
“I know,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost as he continues tracing mindless patterns on her palm.
“I’m not saying it’s the same,” Lando corrects gently. “I know that this… this is different. I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but anyone with eyes can see. “With you it’s different. You and her… it’s different,” he finally shrugs.
He doesn’t say anything, but he nods - his only acknowledgement of Lando’s words, not wanting to make a sound in case it disturbs her - in case she’s listening.
“She came to me.”
That makes him lift his head up for a moment, surprised by the statement, and he looks over his shoulder at Lando. 
“She… what?” he questions, confused.
He nods, a fond smile on his lips as he reminisces.
“Yeah. Asked me a whole bunch of questions, all about you - what you like to eat, where you like to eat, what kind of gifts you like.”
He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters, more to himself than to Lando, “I have no idea where the hell this girl manages to get so much energy from.”
Lando’s reply is simple, like it’s obvious. “You.”
His brow furrow. Huh? 
“Me?” he all but echoes, confusion clear on his face.
“Can’t you see it?”
He can’t figure out what Lando’s hinting at, so he shakes his head.
“I- I’m lost, mate. What d’you mean?”
“It’s… she’s different with you, mate. With everyone else, she’s more guarded, more reserved, more sarcastic. Not that she isn’t charming, but…” he trails off, trying to figure out how to put it into words.
“I don’t think she notices it either. She comes alive whenever you’re around.” For a moment, Luisa flashes in his minds eye.
He turns back to look at her again, his eyes scanning over her face, and then shifts his gaze to their hands - to his fingers, still tracing mindless patterns against hers.
He’s never noticed it - he thought that she always had this energy, that this was just who she was. But different? Oscar isn’t too sure about that. He looks down at her again and wonders why he never noticed anything himself before.
“She’s friendly, always. But anytime it’s the three of us, it’s like I get to be the third wheel to the most awkward and embarrassing old married couple ever,” Lando jokes.
For a split second, the joke makes him smile - a real, proper smile that’s genuine and not forced for any sort of public appearance. And, in that second, he almost imagines what it would be like if they were a married couple - like it wouldn’t be so bad.
“You guys finish each other’s sentences,” he deadpans.
“She’s just good at reading between the lines,” Oscar explains. 
But he can’t deny that in spite of that, Lando’s not entirely wrong. Even in all their time alone, they’d fallen into a certain sort of rhythm - an easy flow, like they both just instinctively knew what the other one was thinking at almost all times.
“It makes work easier,” he adds on, trying to downplay it.
“Yeah. Work.”
He ignores Lando’s sarcastic tone - he’s too focused on something else right now.
“She should be awake by now, right?” he blurts out, looking back at Lando.
“I don’t know,” his teammate says quietly.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” he presses, his tone harsher than he’d intended.
He takes another glance at her face, hoping for some sign of change, some sign of life. 
Nothing.
“Just talk. Whatever you want to say to her, anything - you can just talk,” Lando suggests awkwardly. It’s often that Lando finds Oscar a bit difficult to read, but now it’s impossible to know what will help and what will set him off..
“Right, okay, yeah,” he mutters, nodding.
He turns back to her, silence filling the room while he thinks. There’s something he really wants to say, a phrase that’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now - but the timing is awful.
He decides to start with something simpler instead. His voice sounds shaky when he speaks up again.
“Hey,” he calls out softly. “…Hey.”
He waits for a response, any response - a word, a twitch, a blinking of the eyelashes - but nothing comes. He takes another deep breath before he continues.
“You’re really stubborn, you know,” he chides. “Stupidly stubborn.”
“Just… just wake up, okay?”
He takes a glance at Lando, who’s standing off to the side and observing silently, before looking back down at her face. But she’s still the same as before - no response, no movement, no sign that she’s even heard either of them.
“Oscar…” Lando starts cautiously.
He has a feeling he knows what Lando’s about to say. 
It’s not what he wants to hear.
“No,” he cuts him off before Lando even utters a word. “No, not yet. Just… give her a minute, okay?”
“Oscar…”
“No, stop,” he pleads, his voice cracking for a fraction of a second.
“Os-“
“I said stop,” he snaps back, turning to give him a pleading look. “She just… just give her a minute.” 
Lando takes it upon himself to try to limit the damage. He’s already got one friend laying motionless in a hospital bed - he is not going to let Oscar lose it now. 
“I just don’t think that that yelling at her will do-“
“I wasn’t yelling,” he bites back, though he knows that the volume of his voice was edging towards it. 
“Oscar,” Lando commands, trying to get Oscar to listen.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look back at her. “Sorry, I just…”
Lando’s face molds into a sympathetic expression. He’s usually more comfortable in joyous environments, always the one to crack a joke or make things more relaxed. But here, he forces the discomfort down. Lando Norris is not one to let someone suffer alone.
The Australian knows what he wants to tell her - has desperately wanted to tell her, wants to say it so badly that it’s taking all of his willpower to not blurt the words out.
But the timing still feels wrong - the circumstances around them feel completely off and he can’t bring himself to do it. He looks back at Lando for guidance, Like there’s something the man can do that he can’t.
“She’s easy to talk to, isn’t she?” Lando remembers gas station runs, forbidden slushies and the dark of night as accessories to conversations that never seemed to end. Y/N is eloquent - there’s no doubt about it. Her words can command a room, can simplify the most 
“Yeah,” he replies automatically.
“Then just talk to her. She was your assistant, our friend - before she was ever anything else to you,” Lando says indignantly. “Talk to her. Tell her what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. This might be the onl-“
“Don’t.” Oscar is quick to cut him off. “Don’t say that.”
Lando’s lips press together into a straight line, falling silent.
He turns to look down at her again, his mind working overtime as he tries to figure out what to say. Oscar says the only thing he can, sparing no time for niceties or lighthearted anecdotes.
“You have to wake up, okay?” he mumbles, almost to himself. “I need to tell you that you were right about the error in our tyre deg numbers.”
He laughs softly, in spite of himself, as the memory of her being the sensible one for once comes to mind.
“And… and while we’re on the topic, I just need to say that you were also such a pain in the ass during flights, alright?” he continues. “You’re always so difficult with me when we fly together.”
“And don’t get me wrong, it’s almost endearing when you’re all bossy and sarcastic -” he’s talking faster now, his mind speeding through all the things he wants to say to her “- but it makes me want to strangle you sometimes. You drive me absolutely mental sometimes.”
“But at the same time…” he hesitates. Oscar’s never really been a man of many words. He thinks a lot more than he speaks.
He hesitates because it’s the truth - she drives him crazy, in some of the best and worst ways.
“At the same time, I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you, somehow. Despite all the insane, impossible things I put you through, you’re always here for me, always taking care of me, always by my side.”
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Her first thought feels like it’s a distant memory, located in some faraway room that she can only think of if she tries with all her might not to let it melt away.
She can feel her fingertips.
He’s rambling, the words tumbling out faster with each sentence, and he doesn’t even notice that her fingers twitch against his hand.
“And I know you never ask for anything in return, I know you don’t expect anything in return, I know you just want me to be happy and healthy and I don’t even know how you just-“
The next sensation she registers is much less kind.
Before she can settle into the moment of unexpected peace, a sharp, stabbing pain pierces her side. She feels like molten lava dunked in ice cold water. She feels painfully cold and burning hot simultaneously.
It’s the way her body suddenly twitches involuntarily, so fast and hard that it jolts him out of his rambling, that he realizes something’s wrong.
“Hey,” he says, gripping her hand a little tighter to get her attention, “hey.”
Her hand twitches once again, but they barely have time to pay any attention to it because suddenly the monitor spikes, sending off alarms, the loud sound blaring through the room.
A cold chill runs down his spine, and his grip on her hand tightens without him even realizing. The next thing he knows, a swarm of doctors are rushing into the room. Instantly, her hand is being ripped from his and he’s looking at Lando with wide eyes.
He jumps up to his feet instinctively, wanting to follow where they’re taking her but being pulled back by Lando.
“Wha-“ he asks, his voice carrying an uneasy pitch, his heart threatening to break his rib cage with how hard it’s beating now. “Will someone tell us what’s going on?”
The words would have been loud, but the alarm bares over them. Everything’s happening faster than they can keep up with - one moment ago he was trying to think of a way to say how much he cares about her and the next she’s being pulled away and the machinery around her is going crazy.
There’s a man in a white coat suddenly ushering them both out of the room.
“Why?!” he demands as he attempts to wriggle out of Lando’s grip, trying to dig his feet into the floor to prevent himself from being thrown out. “What’s going on?!
“No,” he protests, resisting Lando's pulling, “No, I need to see her-”
“Sir, you can’t be in there-“
“Why not?!” he demands, his voice rising in volume. “Why can’t I be in there?!”
Lando has his arm around Oscar's shoulders now, trying to physically pull him away. “Mate, we don’t want to get in the way-“
“No! I’m not-“
He stays frozen there like a historic statue, but the man is physically stronger and he’s not able to break free. It only serves to make him feel more claustrophobic. 
Lando sighs. He never thought he’d need to wrestle Oscar. That kid’s got some serious fight in him.
He proceeds to put all his strength into holding Oscar back, trying to usher him into the waiting room. He can’t let Oscar thrown out of the hospital for not cooperating because forget the media circus - he’s not sure Oscar will be able to take not being able to see her.
Lando feels like something in his chest is cracking at the sight of seeing his teammate, his friend, practically his brother -  the calm and rational one of the duo - fall apart.
Instantly, when he feels Oscar shift, Lando’s muscles tense in anticipation of holding him back as he tries to break free.
Except he doesn’t.
Lando looks down to find Oscar shaking.
He’s crying.
Oscar’s head is suddenly hung low, and his shoulders are hunched forward.
He’s practically shaking, on the verge of breaking down completely. And it probably shouldn’t be such a surprise - he’s been running on adrenaline the past few days, and it finally feels like his body is finally crashing. He’s leaning heavily against Lando, and it’s the only reason he’s being held upright.
He can’t help but think there’s a chance that while he’s out here, he’s losing one of his best friends.
That could be the last time he’d get to see her.
The possibility of that just makes him cry harder, his shoulders shaking violently despite his best efforts. He’s slumped against Lando now, practically being held up by his best friend. He buries his face in the crook of Lando’s shoulder, not even trying to fight any more.
“It’s okay, mate. You’re okay, you’re alright, yeah?“
The words help somewhat - Lando’s familiar voice, and the firm embrace - but he can’t help the broken sobs. His brain is running through the last few days, the last few hours, over and over.
“I can’t  do this,” he rasps suddenly, his voice shaking. “I don’t know how to do it without her.”
“I know, I know…”
“I’ve never even…” he chokes out, shaking his head. “I’ve never even told her-“
“You’ll get to,” Lando winces, trying to console his friend. He inhaled deeply, internally praying to any deity that exists that he isn’t lying to him.
“You will. Breathe, mate.”
Lando stands there, arms locked around the younger man for what feels like forever. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt himself somehow or collapse to the floor. It’s a while later when his body finally loosens up a bit.
“I’m tired,” he mumbles over Lando’s shoulder, his voice still shaky. 
“Yeah,” Lando breathes shakily. At least he’s talking. “Yeah, o’course. Let’s get you sat, yeah?”
He nods his head weakly, allowing himself to be guided over to some of the nearby seats. He collapses onto the chair. His head is in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and takes several shaky breaths as he tries to regain some sense of control over his own body. 
Get it together.
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Lando is awoken a few hours later by the sound of approaching footsteps.
He’s startled and disoriented when he’s suddenly woken up, and he has to spend a couple seconds piecing together where he is. He always did appreciate a good nap.
He tries to process the time - it’s dark outside. He’s in a waiting room chair, and Oscar’s in the seat beside him, sleeping with his head propped up on the palm of his hand.
His eyes instantly lock onto the person approaching them, and he blinks a couple times before recognizing the doctor from earlier. The woman seems nice enough with deep smile lines and warm auburn hair. She speaks quietly, presumably in an effort not to wake the sleeping man beside him.
“Mr. Piastri?”
Lando gives a quick nod, silently gesturing to Oscar as he does. He’s the other one.
He looks over, gently shaking at Oscar’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, mate. It’s the doctor.”
Oscar’s eyes instantly shoot open, and he sits up quickly, any remaining drowsiness from sleep disappearing instantly. He’s instantly alert, his body tense, and a hopeful sort of fear in his eyes.
“Mr. Piastri?” she tries again.
“Yes,” he acknowledges, his voice coming out a little shaky. All the fatigue and tiredness from before seem to have left him at the doctor’s approach.
“Oscar Piastri?” she confirms.
“That’s me,” he nods again, watching her carefully. He’s trying to judge her expression, figure out what kind of news she’s come to give him. His heart is skipping beats, playing some sort of sick game, as he holds his breath.
“She keeps asking for you.”
The words immediately have the tension in his body dropping.
“She- What?” His tone is disbelieving, but there’s a part of him that feels lightheaded with relief.
The doctor smiles warmly at him, happy to be able to give some good news. “We’ve been successful in artificially resetting the bone in her ribs as well as patching the lung puncture.”
Pausing before she continues, she tells him, “In fact, you were very lucky to catch her when you did - if the nurses hadn’t seen her then, she likely would have choked-“
“Is she okay?” He swallows hard, trying to hide his voice shaking. “That means she’s well then, right?”
The doctor nods. “She’s still healing though, of course,” she reminds him, with a hint of an accent filtering through. Scottish, perhaps?
“I can see her?” he asks hopefully, already getting to his feet. “I can go in?”
The doctor nods in confirmation, before flipping a page up on her clipboard. “Just a few things before she has any visitors:
No outside food for the patient, and we wanna be as gentle as possible with her. Let's also try to avoid anything that would cause her stress - she’s just come out of surgery and we want her to recover nicely. Alright?”
He nods quickly, not even really caring what she’s saying to him at this point as long as it means that he can see her.
“Yes, of course. No stress. Gentle. I’ll do whatever you say.”
The doctor shoots Lando a wary look. Lando gives her a weak smile - He's harmless, he tries to tell her. “I need to see her,” Oscar explains, like it's the most obvious thing.
“He just wants to see her,” Lando reassures her. “Let him, yeah?”
Oscar shoots Lando a grateful look, before turning back to the doctor, his eyes practically begging the woman to let him in. She smiles kindly, turning around to guide the young man to Y/N’s room.
"That's funny,” she smiles, the kind that even has her teeth on display. “She said the same thing about you."
For the first time in what feels like so long, he starts to allow himself a spark of hope, and it makes his heart beat a little faster. His eyes roam over the doors on either side of them as the doctor leads him closer and closer to her room, his heart in his throat.
“When she was asking for me,” he asks, aiming for casual. “What did she say?”
The woman glances back at him and gives him a knowing look, like she knows something he doesn’t.
“That she wanted to see you,” she tells him as she stops before a door halfway down the hall. “She kept asking to see if you were here or around - likely to reassure herself.” 
She chuckles, a deep, hearty laugh. “But she was quite determined - nearly told off a nurse before we finally calmed her down.”
The thought of her asking about him, and asking to see him, soothes a part of him that he wasn’t even aware was aching.
He lets out a shaky exhale of relief, his entire body relaxing as the doctor stops in front of a room. His gaze locks onto the door, and then back at the doctor, his eyes wide with anticipation.
"Don't worry," the doctor reassures kindly. "Your girlfriend is quite brave. The hard part is over, - she'll be okay."
“She’s not-“ He clears his throat, forcing himself to speak again. “Can I go in?”
"Of course," she replies softly, opening the door for him to enter before turning away to leave them be.
He gives her a short, grateful smile - before finally turning back to the open door. But then his eyes land on her figure on the bed and his breath catches in his throat.
She seems so small, so silent and peaceful. She’s covered in cuts and bruises that look fresh, dark purple and red marks covering her skin. And there’s an IV on her arm and god, he’d tear this place to pieces if he thought it’d bring her any comfort.
His eyes scan over her body, taking in the injuries on her, the way the bruises and cuts are scattered along her skin. His stomach clenches, bile suddenly threatening to rise up and overtake him. It’s more than he’d been expecting - more than he could ever be prepared for, the thought of her in this much pain-
He forces himself to take several deep breaths, steadying himself before continuing to approach the bed - slowly, carefully, like a scared animal.
“Y/N?” he murmurs under his breath. She barely stirs.
He gently places a hand on her shoulder, gently - so gently, mindful of the cuts and bruises scattered across her skin as he tries to shake her shoulder.
"Wake up,” he whispers under his breath, his fingers trembling. “Wake up, c’mon.”
She's disturbed from the thick haze of sleep by the feeling of warm fingers touching her skin.
Huh?
He feels her wake up, her body stirring as he keeps his hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her and reassure himself all at once.
“Hey,” he murmurs, as she starts to open her eyes. “Hey there-“
Eyes still bleary with sleep, her mind races to figure out what's going on. "O- Oscar...?"
She looks tired and disoriented, and it makes something in his stomach clenches. But the sound of his name from her lips is like a cool mist, soothing and familiar all at once.
“Yeah,” he confirms softly, his fingers gently tracing the same circle on her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Hearing Oscar’s voice after so long makes something in her chest feel weird and warm and-
“Oscar.”
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, his fingers running gently through the strands of hair at the nape of her neck as his other hand traces small circles at her shoulder. 
“I’m here,” he reassures, his tone as gentle as possible. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this, he resigns to standing there awkwardly. “I’m here. You, uh- you asked for me?”
Before she realizes, her face is wet with tears. Warm droplets trickle down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto her neck. She can barely see Oscar through her blurred vision.
“Whoa, whoa, shhhh,” he murmurs, trying to soothe her. “Hey, s’alright - shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”
He reaches forward, gently brushing the tears off her cheek. As the sniffles finally subside and Oscar takes a seat by her hospital bed, she turns her head toward him, taking in his presence. Every detail is one she’s trying to commit to memory - the swoop of his hair, the warmth of his eyes, the freckles that decorate his skin.
He tries to keep his expression encouraging, reassuring as she stares at him, but he’s sure that he looks as terrified and devastated as he feels. Instead of commenting on his own state of mind, he tries his luck. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?”
“Can we go?”
He tilts his head, not entirely registering what she’s said.
“What?”
She blinks once, slowly. “I want to go. Can you take me-“
“No,” he replies abruptly - before catching himself, mentally scolding himself for the sharp tone he’d used.
Instead, he tries to soften his tone as he gently adds, “No, Y/N. You need to stay here - you’re hurt, and you need medical care. They need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine now,” she tries. Whether it's the medications or the sleep or whatever the hell is supposed to be in that IV, she has to find her thoughts through a haze. “They fixed me, remember? I can-“
“No, sweetheart,” he replies gently - but his tone is still firm. “You’re not leaving. Not until you’re properly healthy.”
She turns away, cross.
“You might feel fine now, but you- you were really hurt. You need to recover, and these people know how to take care of you,” he tries to explain.
“Whatever.” The syllables slur ever so slightly, making it sound more like whud-ever.
“It’s not fair of you to be mad at me for this,” he argues.
Her words are icy cold. “You can go now.”
His jaw clenches again, as he feels irritation stirring along with it.
“No,” he retorts, his voice still firm. “I’m sticking right by your side.”
“What if I don’t want you here?”
He falters at her words, something in his heart clenching. 
“That’s not fair,” he retorts, the hurt clear from his voice. “You’re mad at me for no reason.”
She turns over, and continues her silent treatment.
His irritation boils over, and he grits his teeth for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to settle himself down.
“Hey,” he murmurs, fondness bleeding through his voice inadvertently. Placing a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to turn her towards him. “Don’t be mad at me. Just- just talk to me.”
“I don’t wanna,” she mumbles gruffly. “I want to go home.”
He swallows against the painful lump in his throat that forms when he hears the word “home” from her lips.
“I know you do,” he answers, his voice gentle. “And I know you want to be out of here, but they’re trying to take care of you, yeah? This is the best place for you right now.”
She keeps ignoring him, hoping he’ll eventually go away.
He can feel his irritation rising as her silent treatment continues - trying to drown out the voice in his head telling him that she’s just scared and confused, and that she doesn’t really mean it.
“Stop it,” he tries again, his patience starting to run thin as he grabs her shoulder, and turns her towards him this time. “Don’t be like this. You have to know I'm trying to help.”
He’s only greeted by more silence.
He’s silent as well for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the heart monitor, watching the steady rise and fall of the screen, the steady, slow beeping that tells him she’s okay, she’s okay.
He tries to keep his voice quiet and steady, to avoid letting his frustration show. “Please just say something. Don’t do this.”
The silence is deafening, and he hates every second of it.
With a small noise of frustration, he reaches out to grab her shoulder, his fingers wrapping gently around it as he tries to pull her towards him. When she’s forced to turn, he finds she’s hastily wiping away tears.
All of the irritation and frustration and even a little bit of anger immediately evaporates, leaving only the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her until she feels better. Without thinking, he gently uses his hand on her shoulder to pull her towards him, helping her up into a sitting position and then gently pulls her against his side, wrapping a secure arm around her.
He’s quiet for a moment, just holding her close to his side as he feels her body shaking against his. He moves the hand that’s wrapped around her, sliding his fingers gently into her hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to help calm her.
“You can cry,” he murmurs gently against her head, placing a gentle kiss against her hair. “It’s okay, s’alright.”
“M’not,” she mumbles. “I don’t want to be here.”
“I know. I know you don’t..” he sympathizes. “But you need to be here for a while - you need to rest.”
She plays along. “Yeah,” she sniffles. “I s’pose so.”
His hand moves without consciously meaning to, wrapping a gentle hand around her other shoulder and pulling her entirely into his side, so that she’s practically falling against him, leaning heavily against his torso.
“Right,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just rest, okay? Rest - I’ve got you.”
He keeps her close against his side, still absently moving his fingers through her hair as he tries to keep her calm and settled. But what comes out of his mouth is, “You’re still mad at me, huh?”
“Actually…”
He lifts an eyebrow, his hand briefly stopping the soft massage, his heart briefly stopping when it does. “Actually?” he prompts gently.
It’s a wonder that Oscar doesn’t comment on how heart is thudding against her chest. Maybe its because he’s being polite. Yeah, he seems like the type to do that. Or maybe he doesn’t have good hearing. Stallard should probably know about that-
Her mental rambling is only cut off when somehow, words tumble out of her mouth, seemingly of her own accord. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to lay in the bed,” she mumbles, except the words come so rapidly that they’re barely understandable.
Immediately, she goes to backtrack. “Or not! It’s fine actually-“
For a moment, she watches as he just blinks at her. It’s a little disconcerting, really.
“Move,” he instructs her softly, gently maneuvering her so that he can climb in the bed beside her. Eh, he figures. They’ve been in worse situations than this.
Once he’s settled behind her, he pulls her back closer to his chest, tucking her tight against his side, her back against his chest, and wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. He closes his eyes, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Better?”
“Mhmm,” she hums contentedly.
He can feel himself smiling as he relaxes, his body melting against hers. He feels her relax against him as well, her shoulders losing some of their tension, and his free hand moves to rest gently on her stomach.
W
It’s over two hours later when Lando starts getting fidgety - the man is not exactly known for his ability to sit still. It’s been a while since he’s heard from his teammate, and he hasn’t heard any updates. Once Lando reaches his third round of pacing, his phone finally lights up with texts from Oscar:
She's okay
Doctor says she'll be alright
But we're both tired, so I'm going to stay the night.
Oscar glances down at where Y/N is resting against his chest, and he feels some of the tension leave his shoulders.
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Lando successfully forces sends Oscar home to get some real rest before tomorrow’s free practice - only after Oscar makes him swear on his favorite golf club that Lando’d call him immediately if anything happened. He grabs an extra chair and pulls it over so that it sits right by her bedside, and he sits down on it, watching her.
The sight of her like this feels incorrect, like those AI images that distort reality. The hospital room, the tubes, the bandages and the bruising and the cuts - none of it looks right. His mind struggles to wrap itself around how her parents could have done this to her.
He’s lost in thought, his knuckles absently running up and down the back of her hand, when suddenly, her eyes flutter open.
“…O- Osc?”
She’s disoriented when she first opens her eyes, confused to find herself still in a hospital room when she’d fallen asleep beside Oscar. But then she looks up, and she sees Lando’s face. 
“Hey… hey,” he says softly, smiling gently down at her as he keeps his voice quiet. “It’s me.”
“Oscar? Where’s Oscar? He was just…“ She looks around, confused. How much morphine have they been giving her?
“He’s at home,” her companion corrects eagerly, his voice gentle. “He had to go home, get some proper sleep. But he let me chill here and hang out with you.���
“He left?”
“Yeah,” he says gently, still speaking softly. “Only for the night, though.”
He keeps rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, trying to soothe her before she gets more upset than she already is.
“Oh.”
Lando’s heart clenches with pity when he notices the look on her face, her expression fallen, and his voice drops even further down to a whisper.
“I know you’re disappointed,” he consoles quietly. “But believe me when I say he needs the rest. You’ll see him again soon.”
Lando takes a moment to examine her in the hospital bed. He doesn’t need to be a doctor to notice how small she looks in the hospital bed - she always is in comparison with him and Oscar, but this just highlights it even more.
“How are you feeling right now? Are you in any pain?” he asks, his voice still lowered.
“I’m… feeling much better, actually,” she says carefully. If she lays it on too thick, Lando won’t believe her. “The meds have been helping.”
“You sure?” he asks, his voice doubtful, looking at her in a somewhat skeptical manner. “You’re really not in any pain?”
“Just a bit of discomfort, but that’s it,” she lies through her teeth. In reality, any real jostling of her midsection sends a searing pain through her side.
Lando gives her an uncertain look, still not fully convinced by her reassurances. His eyes search her face for any kind of hint to her real pain level, but she’s gotten too good at hiding it over the years for him to tell now.
He sighs. “Okay, fine. But if that changes, you’ve got to tell someone, alright?”
“Of course,” she smiles.
He gives her a look that says he’s still not convinced, but decides not to press the issue.
He returns the smile, gently squeezing her hand.
“Good.”
A beat.
“Are you hungry, thirsty? Or… or something?”
“I’m alright,” she answers, but is immediately interrupted by the sound of her stomach grumbling.
He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. ‘Alright’, huh?”
He takes the hint though, standing up straight and offering her a smile. “You stay put. I’ll go find a nurse and see if I can get you something to eat or drink.”
Like she can go anywhere. “Lando?”
He’s halfway out the door already, but he pauses in the doorway, turning back when her voice calls out to him. “Yeah?”
“Think the cafeteria has mac n’ cheese?”
“Macaroni and cheese?” He repeats, sounding amused, but he’s still somewhat confused by it. “Like, mac n’ cheese, specifically?”
“Just a craving,” she mutters sheepishly.
“You are… something else,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Bringing his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, he declares, “I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Thank you! You’re the best!” she whisper-yells after him, 
He turns to head into the hallway again, and he throws a smile at her over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.
He returns to the room about fifteen minutes later, a large mug of hot tea and a bowl of what smells like shepherd’s pie in his hands. “Made you a cuppa,” he informs her, before her gaze lands on the fresh goods.
“Is that-“
Lando holds the steaming box out to her with an amused smirk, clearly proud of himself for his accomplishment. “Shepherd’s pie,” he confirms confidently, giving her a smile. “Just as you ordered, madam.”
“You didn’t.”
He grins, holding it out to her - he actually went and did it.
“I did indeed.”
“Wasn’t it closed?” she asked as she brought the tray table closer to herself, eyeing the comfort food with delight.
The first bite is so good she has to close her eyes to savor it. The warm, hearty food feels like manna from heaven for her weakened body - she could cry tears of joy. There’s no way this food was made in a hospital cafeteria.
Lando sets the tea on the table, watching her as she tries the food, and can’t help the smile that spreads on his face when he sees how pleased she is with the food he chose.
“Closed, yes,” he says, sitting back down on the chair he’d previously been in. “But I’m very charming and persuasive.”
“So you ordered it from a shop.”
He grins.
“And who’s the smart one?” he asks, watching her eat. “Turns out the place next door does a pretty amazing Shepherd’s pie. Who knew?”
She’s too happy at the food to be bothered to tease him back. “This is amazing, dude. You’re the best.”
He can’t help but smile again, watching her enjoying the food he got like it’s the best thing she has had in years. He’s happy to have done this one thing to make her happy - he can’t help but tease, though. “Well, you know…”
He sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
“I am pretty great.”
“Alright, alright,” she says, waving him off. Now that she’s gotten a few bites in her, she gets a bit quieter. Eating and chewing is a surprisingly exhaustive task for someone who’s still on the mend.
She wipes the corner of her mouth, before finally turning to Lando.
“How is he?” she asks quietly.
He’s a bit surprised when she shifts the conversation, turning to ask about how Oscar is doing now, but he still answers willingly.
“He’s…” Lando hesitates a moment, searching for a word that would most accurately describe the situation .
“He’s… not great right now,” he says at last. Might as well be honest. “But… I think he’ll pull through. He’s a bit of a mess, but he’s… alright.”
“Yeah,” she sighs softly. She doesn’t look at Lando as she says it, feeling too responsible for his predicament. Instead, she tries her best to clean up after her meal - wrapping away the leftovers that feel like too much work to eat right now.
She gives her friend a tired smile before yawning. “Do you think it’s okay if I get some rest?”
He eyes her carefully, noticing the exhaustion on her face. “Yeah, f’course,” he assures her, standing up from the chair. “You’ve had a long few days. You should rest while you can.”
He takes the leftovers and sets them on the bedside table, before pulling the blankets up to her shoulders.
“Thanks, Lan,” she hums, before her eyes fall shut.
Lando doesn’t know when his own eyes fall shut, but they do.
Oscar does not, in fact, return.
Over the course of the next few days, Y/N gets very familiar with the hospital’s jello variety. She decides that she likes fruit punch the most, but that isn’t much of a surprise. What does surprise her, however, is when she wakes to a beautiful bouquet by her bedside. It’s an elegant collection, a haze of lavender florals - peonies and chrysanthemums - beautifully framed by stems of baby’s breath.
She eagerly reaches for the gift, excited to examine it up close. There’s a note tucked into the silk white ribbon that ties the wrapping together - a small cardstock thing that seems to have something written on it. Carefully plucking it out with her fingers, her eyes drift across the angular scrawl, penned in black ink.
“Heard you decided to sit Silverstone out. Don’t worry, it 
was boring anyway. You know it isn’t the same with you.
I’ll swing by sometime with bad puns and greasy pizza. 
That’ll fix you up real quick, trust me.
Get well soon, Loser.”
A smile blooms on her face as she reads the thoughtful words. She searches the note, trying to find the identity of the sender so she can at least send them a message of gratitude. Turning the card over, there's a misshapen looking smiley face next to a familiar name.
Love ya,
Logan
She’s lucky to have a friend like Logan - another American on the paddock, one who’s taken up the role of annoying older brother. They’d met through Oscar, initially - back in those early weeks of their rookie seasons. But then the conversation went to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, and then the rest is history.
The card is returned to her bedside table as shuffles in her bed, turning over to get comfortable so she can take a nap.
Letting her head sink into the starchy fabric of the hospital pillow, she tries not to think of the feeling that rose up in her throat when the name on the card wasn’t the one she was looking for.
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Lando wakes up to his butt uncomfortably numb. Someone seriously needs to work on a better replacement for these inconvenient contraptions disguised as chairs. Isn’t the hospital meant to make you feel better?
Lando’s fairly certain he was much better conditioned when he walked in this morning - at this rate, they may just have to wheel him out.
“-and this one you’re going to take orally 3 times a day, alright? So that’s every 8 hours, to help reduce pain and any inflammation.”
Lando blearily blinks at the noise, but the words slowly get his brain up to speed, and he sits up a little straighter. He glances at her, who looks about as sleepy as he does - her eyelids look heavy, and her voice is still a little hoarse from sleep. 
“Okay,” she nods, taking the meds from the doctor, and putting them away in a bag by the bedside.
The doctor checks something off on her clipboard, before looking back up at the young woman seated on the side of the  bed.
“Right then. And do you have someone with you at home who’ll be able to keep an eye on you these next few weeks once you go home today?”
Suddenly, Lando really doesn’t like the doctor or the way this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the idea of her being all alone for the next few weeks. With all the medication she’s on, she’s not going to be able to drive.
She nods. “Yeah. I do. I live with my boyfriend,” she smiles reassuringly. The lie is so good that it even has Lando confused.
She has a boyfriend? That she lives with?
Lando’s immediate next thought is, Does Oscar know?
But he keeps quiet as the doctor continues to finish up her lecture about Y/N’s instructions for care. Lando sits there quietly, not knowing what to think.
Boyfriend? That’s news to him. If she had a boyfriend that she was living with… wouldn’t he have known that?
He watches her as she quietly nods and talks with the doctor, and he’s left to wonder how long this boyfriend has been around. When the doctor finally leaves and the room goes quiet again, Lando lets out a little yawn and then turns around in his chair to face her. There’s a confused, almost suspicious look on his face as he regards the girl.
“So… you have a boyfriend?” Lando doesn’t know if he feels protective or betrayed, but neither make the conversation less awkward. In all the time the three have spent together, the young assistant has barely, if ever, brought up her dating life. Probably because she’s in love with her Google calendar.
“Hmm?” she says, gathering her things. Finally, free at last.
Lando can’t really blame her for wanting to get out of a hospital bed and away from the crappy food. But he also hasn’t forgotten about her boyfriend comment from earlier. He looks at her skeptically. “You said you live wit’ your boyfriend, do you?”
“Oh,” she shrugs. “Just told the doctor what she needed to hear so I could get outta here.”
Lando blinks at her - and he’s left with the sudden, weird urge to laugh for the first time all night. The Briton stares at her for a few more seconds, trying to sort out the mixed bundle of feelings running through his mind. Then, teasingly bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning like the cat who got the cream, he finally manages to ask, “So… Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” she says with a wave of her hand, like the mere notion is ridiculous. “Single as a pringle.”
“Yeah? That’s not what you told the doctor, though…” He sing-songs. If she is actually seeing someone, then Lando can’t help but be happy for her. He’d be even happier though if it was Oscar - then he could finally make good those on that cash from some of the other drivers.
Lando hums. He’s been meaning to add a new Richard Mille to his collection.
“She wanted to  hear that I had someone at home in case something went awry. So that’s what I told her,” she explains simply. Once she’s done packing her things, she turns to Lando. “Ready to go? Oscar has a meeting soon and I’d like to be there for it.”
“So let me get this straight,” Lando says, no longer thinking of luxury watches. This time when he speaks, the tone of his voice is quite clear that he’s not happy with what he’s hearing. “You lied to a medical professional - told her you were living with a boyfriend - so you’d get discharged earlier… and there’s a meeting at work?”
“Yes,” she deadpans. “Now that you’re all caught up, can we go?”
When they arrive at the MTC, it’s business as usual. They each go their separate ways - Lando off to do whatever it is that Lando does, and Y/N to her office. She turns into the familiar space, dropping off her things, and taking inventory of the stack of papers that have accumulated on her desk in her absence.
Oscar’s sim session was okay. It wasn’t the greatest practice he’s had, but it wasn’t a complete disaster of a session either.
He tries not to think about the fact that he’s only semi-focused on the practice. His mind keeps wandering away from the simulator, and his eyes find their way to the office door that’s right across from the simulator room, where a familiar name plate adorns the door.
He shakes his head. His mind has been imagining her in this familiar setting - filling in the gaps where he’s used to her being. There’s been at least three occasions where he’s walking into her office, caught up in his theories or hypothetical to remember for a moment that she isn’t here.
A member of the janitorial staff saw him one of those times. 
It was embarrassing, to say the least. 
And yet his mind continues to picture her sitting at her desk. His brain supplies an image of her - a memory? - her, hard at work on her laptop or tablet, completely immersed, headphones on, chewing on her pen.
Except, when he blinks… the image of her is still there.
What the fuck?
“Good afternoon,” Y/N greets, trying to keep her voice as casual and even as she can. 
He nearly jumps up at the sound of her voice - but it’s also a familiar, welcome sound. Before his mind can catch up to his brain, he lets out a blunt, “You shouldn’t be here.”
She flinches ever so slightly at that.
“Was discharged this morning,” she smiles professionally, trying to keep it light. She decides to leave out the part where she orchestrated her own discharge from the hospital so that she could be at work, because she has a feeling that her boss will not react well to that.
He wants to be relieved. He does. But he also can’t stop the feeling of annoyance at the idea of her returning to work within hours of being discharged from the hospital.
“Wait, let me get this straight,” he starts, and the irritation he feels is definitely showing in his voice. “You were discharged this morning, and you came here?”
Her lips press together into a straight line. He’s the one who’s annoyed? 
“I am here now. Whether you choose to utilize my services or not is, of course, up to you.”
“That’s not an answer,” he counters, walking towards her. He’s definitely trying to suppress some feelings right now - irritation, relief at the sight of her, and something else that he can’t place.
“You’re supposed to be resting - not here,” he stresses, his stance and tone both authoritative.
“Oscar,” she hisses lowly. “I believe we have a guests.”
Y/N points her gaze in the direction of Zack and Andrea who seem to be making their rounds this morning, the CEO and team principal respectively. He turns to see both Andrea and Zack walking by and greeting people in the nearby rooms, handshakes and half hugs.
He can’t lose his cool now, even if what she’s doing right now is downright idiotic. He clenches his teeth, his jaw tight, but he manages to keep his irritation tampered down.
She can’t help but feel a little hurt by that. After everything, he could at least pretend to be happy to see her.
“Thank you, Mr. Piastri,” she says sarcastically, before plastering a fake smile onto her face. “Anything else?”
The too-tight smile she throws his way is unexpected. 
He tries to ignore the fact that it makes him feel like the world’s biggest dickhead.
“Er… no,” he says, sounding a little unsure. “That should be everything.”
“Very well,” she nods curtly, before walking off to god knows where.
She sets course for her office. When she reaches the sleek door, she pushes against it with, letting herself inside. 
Taking a seat on one of the armchairs placed by the coffee table, she leans her head back against the cushioned backing. Unshed tears of frustration stay locked in her chest, taking a deep sigh instead.
Why the fuck is she so worked up about this?
Everything is fine - she has no idea why she feels like shit. Oscar’s reaction to seeing her back from the hospital doesn’t mean anything. 
It shouldn’t mean anything. Right?
He watches her leave his office, and the whole time - the whole time he feels like he can feel the disappointment radiating from her.
It’s unwarranted - she has no reason to be pissed at him when she’s the one who’s being an idiot, he tries to convince himself. But he doesn’t quite manage.
He knows he’s in for a long evening.
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The nagging feeling in his gut leads him to her door. There’s no reason to be nervous, right? Y/N has been here for the good, the bad, and ugly - sleeve deprived rants and mood swing and one drink too many and even giving him a ride from the sheriff’s office that one time he caused a fender bender.
Before he thinks it over any more, he pushes again the elegant oak door.
Her office is some combination of elegant and cozy. To one side, there is a sitting area - cream coloured armchairs he’s been a frequent visitor of. Against the wall, navy bookshelves frame both sides of an art piece, the shelves of books punctuated by hand crafted decorations.
To the far end of the room is where her desk is, a large monitor displaying the McLaren logo adorning the glass wall. There’s a few picture frames oh er desk that he’s seen dozens of time’s before - a little boy at his first soccer game, friends at a birthday party, someone posing at the top of some rock formation. Her vase has been filled with dainty lilac flowers.
Her tall, black office chair sticks out, and it’s there he finds her, face illuminated by the glow of the computer she’s diligently working on. The clacking of keys is the only sound in the room, interrupted only when she turns to note something down.
She’s a vision. A beautiful, perfect vision, with her hair pulled back into a claw clip, loose strands framing her face. And he’s frozen in place, unable to do anything other than just stare.
His heart is racing out of his chest, and after seconds of just staring, he tries to get his mouth to work.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks gruffly, surprised by how rough his voice comes out.
“Get lost, Lando,” she grumbles without looking. She’s not in the mood for Lando’s attempts to cheer her up - she just wants to be a miserable workaholic in peace.
He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at that. It’s a quiet one, but hearing her think that he’s Lando amuses him.
“What, no time for me?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing even though he’s feeling anything but on the inside.
Her eyes fly open in recognition, before she returns her attention to her desktop. Her eyes focus themselves on the facts and figures, making it a point not to  pay him any attention.
“I’m not in the mood,” she mumbles, still upset from earlier. What is he even doing here?
The silent treatment, really? After he spent the whole afternoon worrying about her? She doesn’t get to just ignore him after he spent the whole day unable to function. 
That thought makes him start to feel irritable. “I don’t care what ‘mood’ you’re in,” he snaps, not caring how harsh he sounds.
There’s something about the way she’s avoiding his gaze, ignoring him - she’s doing it on purpose. She’s making a point of deliberately looking away, looking elsewhere. It makes him frustrated, it makes him feel raw, like he’s suddenly vulnerable, out in the open.
“Look at me,” he says in an authoritative tone, his irritation seeping into his words.
“Don’t want to.”
His jaw clenches at her response. She’s being petulant, and maybe he does deserve it, but god does it piss him off.
He walks closer to her, stopping right before her and blocking her from moving any further away.
“I said look at me,” he repeats, his voice coming through gritted teeth.
With a roll of her eyes, she brings her gaze to his face.
He tries to resist the urge to immediately look her over - to make a visual catalog of each cut, bruise and injury on her skin, to catalog which specific shade of blue and red every mark is, to count how many stitches are on her forehead - to catalog the full extent of the damage that’s been done.
Instead, he forces himself to look into her eyes, his irritation turning into intense, barely concealed anger.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming back today,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Well, here I am.”
There’s more clicking, a shift in the color of the light reflecting her face as she switches between tabs. A beat of silence passes over the room.
“You done?” she says with a raised eyebrow.
Nope, he’s not done. He hasn’t even started.
“No, actually,” he shoots back, his anger bubbling up at her feistiness. “We’re not ‘done’ until we actually have a real conversation.”
“What are you on about?”
“You heard me,” he says, his voice more firm in response to her disbelief. “If you think we’re just pushing this to the side, and act like everything fair and dandy, then you’re very mistaken.”
Finally sparing him a glance, she tells him nonchalantly, “I don’t see much for us to talk about.” 
His face scrunches, eyebrows pinching together as he holds back a scoff. “I’m the one over here who’s trying to fix whatever the hell this mess is,” he points out, gesturing with his finger between the two.. “I’m the one who’s actually worried about you, after what you went through -”
He breaks off abruptly, not wanting to go there.
She whips her head to the side when she hears that.
“Fuck off,” she spits, almost-tears in her eyes. “You don’t get to act like you care about me whenever you feel like it and then decide you don’t whenever you want.”
“Goddamnit - that’s not what I do!”
Anger is rising in his chest. Does she really think that he only cares when he feels like it? Does she have any idea how much time he spends worrying about her, how many times he has to hold himself back because he’s worried of crossing a line?
“You just don’t want to accept that I do care about you,” he accuses, his voice rising, his temper flaring.
Her reply is immediate, a pre-loaded bullet.
“No, ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Glad to have you back.’ No, instead,” she scoffs, “the first words out of your mouth after you see me is, ‘You’re not supposed to be here?’”
That stops him in his tracks.
His eyes widen in realization as he’s suddenly hit with the realization of just how cold and shitty his first words to her had been.
No greeting, no ‘good to have your back’, no ‘glad you’re okay’ - just accusations. His heart clenches in his chest as he realizes it - how careless he must have sounded.
“You know,” she laughs humorlessly, like it’s an inside joke that only she is in on. “I can’t believe I was foolish enough to think that night meant something to you.”
Images of that night, what feels like years ago, flash in her mind - his tender touches, his caring whispers, those soft kisses they shared. The way he’d confessed how much he cared about her as he patched her up,  how he’d come to her aid when she needed it most.
“But apparently not. Because apparently it’s really easy to ignore me for a whole week, to give me the cold shoulder all day, right? To make sure you have anyone else to replace the work I do for you every day?”
The words feel like a slap to the face.
He feels the anger in his gut subside, being replaced by immediate regret.
“That’s not what it was-” he stumbles over his words, his voice coming out more pleading than he’d like to admit. 
“That’s not what any of it was,” he shakes his head emphatically, trying to make her understand, make her see that he didn’t mean to come off the way he had. “I was just- I was just worried about you, I-”
“Tell me you didn’t have Kelsey schedule your meetings then. Or have Hendrix manage your correspondence. Or, maybe you didn’t specifically ask for Annika to run your errands just so that you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”
His heart is in his stomach. When she says it like that - lists all his actions out in such a clinical way - it sounds so damn manipulative that he doesn’t have an immediate response.
“It wasn’t like that-” he tries to protest, trying to say something, anything to make her understand that no, that wasn’t him trying to give her the cold shoulder, that wasn’t him trying to get away from her.
She puts a hand up to halt his train of thought.
“Look, it’s one thing to disagree with a personal decision of mine, but to punish me for it professionally?” Her tone is as incredulous as it is hurt.
“I work very hard, and I am damn good at my job,” she states, certain. “There is a reason it takes so many people to fill in for what I do everyday.”
She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice even.
“So you do not get to insult me and my work this way.”
He takes a few steps towards her, his hands itching desperately to reach out and grab her. He wants to grab her shoulders, make her look at him - to just let him say something, but she’s right.
“I know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with shame, “I know you do good work. I was just…”
“I was just mad,” he confesses with a reluctant sigh. “I was mad that everything… everything happened, and I didn’t know what to do. And I know that’s a terrible excuse, but I didn’t- I was just feeling all these- feelings, and I reacted like an - an ass, and I…”
He runs his hand along his face, exhaling in frustration.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I acted.”
She continues to glare at him, silent.
He hates the way she’s looking at him - like the sight of him hurts her.
“Please,” he whispers, hating the pleading tone that crept into his voice. “Please, don’t look at me like that. Just- just let me make up for it, yeah? Let me make this right. Can you… can you at least…?”
He slowly starts moving closer to her - one, then two steps.
She moves back.
“‘At least’ what? What do you want from me now?”
He takes another step, the distance between them now a mere foot. When he’s standing just in front of her, he stops.
His heart is lodged in his throat. 
“Can… can I touch you?”
“Why? You want me to be your charity case again? Something you can hold and try to fix to make yourself feel better?”
Okay, maybe that was a bit too far. But she was scared because she was this close to forgiving him, to letting all the anger dissipate like it never existed and letting him hold her like he did so many nights ago.
She shouldn’t forgive him so easily. She shouldn’t want to forgive him so quickly.
He shouldn’t influence her as easily as he does.
He winces, as if she’d physically hit him with those words. He hates the way she’s reacting - hates how she’s talking like she doesn’t know him.
“No,” he says shakily, the word coming out as a breath. “No, I… you’re not a charity case. I just-”
He’s desperate now, desperate to fix this.
“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. “I just want to hold you.”
“Why?” she tries to sound demanding, angry, cross with him. But her voice cracks instead.
The sound of her voice cracking makes his chest ache.
“Because I care about you,” he says, the words coming out rushed. “Because I’m terrified that you’ll disappear. And because after everything that’s happened these last couple days, I… I just want to hold you in my arms and make sure that you’re real. That you’re here. I just want you.”
“Please,” he whispers. “Please just let me hold you.”
His heart is beating so damn fast that it’s making his head fuzzy, but he needs her to say yes. 
She eyes him warily. This wouldn’t be the first time he acted like he cared about her like this, only to distance himself after.
“I’m not leaving,” he says slowly, his voice serious. “I’m not going to push you away. I swear. I swear to you, I will not push you away again this time, okay?”
He reaches out slowly, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and puts his hand lightly to her wrist - just barely keeping his touch there, like he’s afraid she’ll recoil away. 
“Please,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Please just… just give me a chance. Let me just have this one thing. Please.”
Still eyeing him, she gives him the barest nod. 
She’s never been that good at saying no to him anyway.
Slowly, he moves closer to her, taking one small step at a time. His hands hover at her shoulders for a moment,  pulling her to stand up, before he reaches out again and gently pushes her shirt sleeves up slightly, exposing her bare forearms.
She watches him curiously, wondering what he’s doing.
He carefully wraps his fingers loosely around both of her wrists, being mindful of a bruise, and gently guides them up and around his shoulders. 
His hands settle on her hips, and then he hesitates. He knows she’s still upset. He knows that he’s still got to apologize and make it up to her properly, but right now, he desperately just wants her close. So he takes a deep breath and gently pulls her body closer, until he can feel her flush against him.
He rests his chin on the top of her head, and god, she feels so good in his arms. She feels so right, and he doesn’t even care that she’s hurt and angry with him right now - she’s here. She’s here, and she’s not pushing him away.
She inhales and that scent that’s so Oscar fills her senses.
She wonders why Oscar smells like coming home.
His hands rub up and down her body slowly - still as gentle as he can manage, not wanting to overstep. He feels her flinch when he accidentally brushes his fingers over a patch of bruise just above her hip bone, and he quickly moves his hand to other spots.
He just wants to hold her. He wants to be close to her.
“Do friends hug like this?” she whispers, not daring to look at him.
The question catches him off guard, and he freezes for a moment.
“No,” he says slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. He continues his slow rhythm of rubbing up and down along her body, tracing an invisible pattern of loops and circles. Silence falls over the room like a blanket of fog, the night sky a backdrop to the intimacy of two people.
“No, I don’t think friends do,” he says quietly.
“You kissed me. The other night, at your place - you kissed me,” she murmurs into his embrace.
He doesn’t move for a moment, absorbing the words.
“I did,” he says simply.
His hands continue to gently rub up and down against her form, his touch careful and calculated. It’d be so easy, so easy just to slip his hands beneath the fabric of her clothes, to just touch her - skin to skin. But not yet.
“And when I did, you kissed me back,” he says quietly.
Her breathing hitches - she wasn’t sure he’d remember. 
“I did,” she admits quietly.
A warm feeling begins to take root in his chest and he tightens his hold around her. Pulling his head back, his hooked finger tilting up her chin, he tries to read her eyes.
“And if I were to kiss you again right now, do you think you’d kiss me back?” he asks slowly, his voice still a soft whisper.
She looks up at him, eyes meeting his.
“Only one way to find out,” she breathes.
He holds her gaze for a moment longer, searching her face for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. 
And then he’s carefully lifting one of his hands to her face, his fingers barely coming to rest against her cheek. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her cheek for a moment, just wanting to savor the brief feeling, before gently tilting her head up. 
And then he’s slowly lowering his head down, until he can just barely feel her breath against his lips.
Foreheads pressed together, all she can see, feel, breathe is him.
“Don’t play with my heart like this,” she murmurs against his lips.
He swallows hard.
“I’m not,” he breathes quietly, his eyes closed. He can’t bring himself to open them now - he’s scared of what he’ll see in her expression.
He hesitates. He wants to kiss her, wants to kiss her so bad, but he’s not sure she’ll let him. He’s not sure she trusts him again yet.
He moves his head slightly, his nose just brushing against hers. 
“I won’t,” he says quietly, this time with more conviction - more force. “I swear I will never hurt you again. I’ll prove it, I’ll show you-“
His words are interrupted by a knock at her door. 
They have the worst timing.
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Part 4
104 notes · View notes
emjiroki · 1 year ago
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Pool Boy Yuuta Okkotsu x Lonely Housewife Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Infidelity, exhibitionism (outside), Yuuta is the lonely housewife slayer fight me
A/N: I'm back babies with Pool boy Yuuta for the lovely Wet Hot Slimeball summer block party collab event! My prompt was 'Humid' so I hope I captured the theme and everyone enjoys! @bastardblvd (look at Yuuta holding the pool skimmer! Im pretty proud of my editing skills)
Collab Masterlist
likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated
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‘God they need to do something about this global warming shit’ You thought as the sun beat down. It had been storming over the last week in Grimetown so the humidity was intense; thick like you were being compressed and forced to breathe the water evaporating from the ground. And with the storms came strong winds, knocking small branches and a whole heap of leaves into the once pristine blue water of your pool. You had made plans to clean it out…soon, maybe ask that big man that stole your package and stuffed that block party flier in your mailbox to fix it, had really planned to ask your husband to do it before he left for two weeks on a “business trip”. It would be comical to believe that these trips were for business at this point, your husband coming home one too many times smelling of perfume that wasn’t the scent you wore. Something cheap and cloying that set a stone in your stomach. But you liked your life, all your bills were paid and your husband still treated you like you were his world, why bother rocking the boat over some whore? He’ll get bored with her eventually and come crawling back, take you on some big vacation as a secret sorry and it’ll be done with.
So here you were lounging on one of your pool chaises trying and failing to read your book with your brain a frenzy of thoughts when you vaguely heard a knock on the gate. You pulled on the slipcover for your bikini and went to open the hefty latch to the privacy fence. The sudden heat to your skin wasn’t from the sun beating down or the suffocating humidity, but most certainly from the man in front of you with a pool skimmer propped up on his shoulder. 
“I’m Yuuta Okkotsu from Grimetown Pool and Landscaping, sorry for the intrusion but I tried the front door and no one answered”. He seemed about your age, maybe a year or two younger, with sweet dark eyes and a handsomely cut jaw. Obviously fit under the company t-shirt that hugged his body. You bit your cheek slightly to try and keep your thoughts in check and not written across your face as you extended your hand to his to shake and introduced yourself. 
“I’m guessing you’re the poor soul that they sent to come clean my disaster of pool?” You asked opening the gate a bit wider for him.
“That’s what was on my schedule for today ma’am,” He said with a sheepish smile as he fumbled to close the gate latch behind him and followed you over to the poolside.
“And in this humidity too? Yikes,” You empathized, taking a discarded magazine from the table and fanning yourself as he surveyed the mess. 
“This will probably take a day or two to clean out and get balanced again,” Yuuta said with a determined look set on his face. 
“Please, take all the time you need” You requested, pulling the slip from your bikini off, “I’m assuming the husband will just write a check for whatever”. 
“R-Right, of course” He stammered, a rosy hue to his cheeks as he not so subtly looked you up and down. But he didn’t look away from your gaze when you made eye contact, going so far as to take a small step forward. You gave him a soft alluring smile before slipping your sunglasses on and lounging back in your chair.
“This humidity is a killer, let me know if you need anything” You commented as he pulled his phone from his pocket, assumedly to call his boss and tell them the plan.
“Oh I will, don’t worry,” He said with a lowkey promise in his tone that had you clenching. 
An hour or two passed as he pulled out branches and skimmed the pool, the humidity absolutely baring down and making the air thick. You were glad for the sunglasses because you couldn’t help but stare when he stripped off his shirt. Sweat ran down his neck to the dip in his collarbones before rolling down his chest and chiseled abdomen, your eyes tracing the wet path down as you unconsciously clenched your legs together. You reached for your drink and realized the glass was empty, the ice slowly melting at the bottom.
“Yuuta, would you like a drink? Take a break in the a/c for a minute?” You called over as you gather your stuff to head back inside away from this killer heat. 
“Sure that would be great” He replied, pulling the skimmer from the water and setting it aside before quickly following you as you lead him in through the back door to the kitchen. The cool was a relief from the stagnant heat hovering around outside, Yuuta gratefully taking the towel you handed him and wiped his face and neck. 
“Water? Lemonade?” You asked as you opened the refrigerator, pulling the pitcher out and refilling your own glass.
“Lemonade is great, thanks” He huffed as he sat back in one of the bar chairs, pushing his damp black hair back away from his face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t ogle for a moment, quickly turning away when looked up at you and filled the glass you pulled down for him. He said thank you again as you handed it to him, watching as he took a few big gulps of the cold liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank greedily. 
“You know Yuuta, I really wish my husband had a job like yours,” You commented, taking the seat next to him.
“Oh? And why’s that?” He asked, surprise in his tone but something curious and almost heated sparkling in his dark eyes. Damn, how could he be this pretty?
“Well, he’s always gone and I think the finance industry is making him dishonest” You admitted, casually messing with your discarded sunglasses on the island. The worst has already happened, at this point, you didn’t care about throwing yourself out there as you gently touched his fingers resting next to yours. 
“I’d be dishonest too if I got a house like this and a wife like you” He commented, a rosy hue to his cheeks though he didn't pull his hand away when you expected him to. 
“But the house is always so empty, it's lonely here… all by myself,” You said tracing one of your manicured nails up his hand to his forearm, goosebumps breaking across his skin, “He gives me everything I want but nothing that I need”. Yuuta turned slightly, leaning in close enough that a gasp escaped you, his dark eyes swimming with something you wanted to be devoured by.
“And what is it that you need?” He murmured, his lips close enough that you would only have to lean in an inch or two to feel them against yours, “Love? Good dick?”. It felt as if someone had lit a fire in your cheeks and it was rapidly traveling to the spot between your legs, your breath not filling your lungs anymore as his hand moved to your bare thigh. Your hands were shaking as you tried to take a drink from your glass, a small splash of lemonade running down your mouth to your chest. You squeaked out a soft moan when you felt his warm tongue against your skin, his mouth following the sour liquid down to the curve of your breast and sucking lightly in a soft kiss. Gripping his arms to keep yourself steady, he smiled up at you, that seemingly innocent shy boy smile from earlier. “Is that a yes?”.
“Yuuta! Fuck!” You cried as he bottomed out inside of you for what seemed like the hundredth time today, you both barely able to get out of your bed this morning.
“You really never get tired do you?” He said with a chuckle, hissing as your walls squeezed around him, “Can’t even get my job done”. He’s right, hadn’t even gotten the chemicals ready for the pool before he was spread on the chaise lounge for you again, your thong bikini shredded by his eager hands and thrown somewhere in the yard. You were both slick with sweat from the heat, humidity ever present as you devoured each other for your neighbors on both sides to hear. His hands were rough against your ass as he squeezed and help you along to take his length, your hands on his sweaty chest as you bounced, spearing yourself on him again and again like you were possessed. 
“You’re just… so good” You moaned as he pulled you down to press against him, nipping his teeth across your throat and thrusting up into you. 
“Oh, you’re so good too beautiful, so fucking hot” He groaned, feeling your slick leaking out and running down to coat his balls in creamy white. He was so deep inside, carving out a place only his cock could satisfy, rutting into your soft walls like an animal. You couldn’t get enough as you moved your hips against his, his hand going up to wipe the drool from your lips as you fell apart.
“With a pussy like this I might just get obsessed,” He said his voice turning to a growl as you raised up again, his dark eyes seeming to grow darker as he watched your breasts bounce and the sweat rolling down your skin. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”. You nodded, groaning out a soft yes as the flames of your climax licked up your spine, your brain foggy with the heat and the pleasure buzzing through your bloodstream. If only your “husband” could see you right now, being ravaged into a puddle in this primal humidity.As if he heard your thoughts, your phone began to ring. You didn’t think to pick up, only looked when you saw Yuuta’s hand move. His hand wrapped around it, squeezing the volume button until it buzzed on silent, flipping it over. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down to lay against his chest again, practically growling as he pressed your face to his throat and fucked so deep into you you could feel him battering your cervix. The sound that broke from your lips as you creamed around his cock was something you hadn’t heard before, breathy and wild.
“That’s right baby, cum on my cock as much as you want” He panted, his hands running soothingly up your back despite him still hammering into your sensitive pussy, “I’m your husband now, I’ll make him disappear and you'll be all mine won't you?”.
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thefallennightmare · 22 days ago
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All Eternity-Matt Dierkes x OFC! Faye[JP UNIVERSE]
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Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC! Faye[JP UNIVERSE]
Warnings: fluff and smut(not my best work but its pretty tame)
Summary: Matt has a promise to prove to Faye.
Authors Note: I hope you all enjoy this little drabble into one of our favorite JP couples! I'm sorry if I missed any tags, I just went off everyone who was previously tagged in the other Matt/Faye fics.
Tags: @blueskylinesx @artificialbreezy @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurado @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-me @sorrowsofsilence @xmads-omensx @dominuslunae @follow-me-down-to-wonderland
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Letting out a yawn, I shook out the tiredness from my bones as I dragged my feet through the back halls of the venue, looking for one person. 
My person. 
Both Matt and I decided at the last minute to help out our friends in The Ghost Inside since they had a show in Los Angeles tonight. Matt used to do their front of house work before taking over with Bad Omens so he wanted to get back to his roots for the night while I decided to shoot their entire set. It was good to get back into the routine of work since neither Bad Omens or Hollow Souls were touring at the moment. 
While I was happy to shift into work mode for a few hours, I was now ready to dive into bed with Matt; in more ways than one. Before we left to come to the venue tonight, we were busy watching our sex tape but didn’t have time to finish what we started because Matt realized the time; us being late. So I’d been wound up all day sexually with the images from our sex tape replaying in my mind over and over. 
I waved and smiled at the crew members of The Ghost Inside as I turned a corner but halted momentarily when my eyes landed on the man that held my heart and soul from the second our gazes locked for the first time so long ago. 
Wow, that was cheesy as fuck. 
Matt, who had his back turned to me, was down at the other end of the hallway talking with Vigil. With a wide grin, I broke out in a sprint towards Matt and jumped on his back.
"What the fuck?!" He yelled with a laugh as he stumbled on his feet a bit but managed to keep us both up right. 
I placed a kiss on Matt's cheek. "I've been looking everywhere for you." 
“I’m never too far from you, Faye,” Matt smiled.
Vigil chuckled at our antics. "I'll catch you guys later. Thanks for everything tonight Matt." 
I waved at him before adjusting myself on Matt’s back. "The Ghost Inside killed it tonight. I'll email over the pictures once they're edited.”
"Take your time, Faye. You guys did us a solid." 
Matt wrapped his arms around my legs and began carrying me towards the back door of the venue and his truck parked on the far end of the parking lot. It was late in the evening so the only noise outside were crickets. 
"I'm so tired," I sighed in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. "Can you carry me all the way home?" 
He squeezed my leg when I said the word home. Our home. I moved in Matt’s place last week after we grew tired of jumping back and forth between our respective places and when it was becoming too much for Boo due to his old age, we both agreed it would be better if I moved in with him. I agreed almost instantly because I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than with Matt. 
"I'll carry you for all eternity if you'd let me, fairy," Matt vowed while tossing a wink over his shoulder.
“OH!” I smacked his chest as we walked. “Noah texted me the plan for Y/N’s birthday tomorrow. Everything is set in motion. I just need to make sure I’m there with my camera.” 
“Time still the same?” He wondered. 
I nodded. “Yep. They have something planned in the afternoon but should be home by four.”
Once we reached his truck, I went to jump off his back which only made him hold on tighter as he walked around to the passenger side and managed to open the door while still carrying me. Turning my back towards the open door he walked backwards a few steps until my ass hit the seat and I giggled while sitting in the truck. 
“My own Prince Charming,” I cooed. 
Matt reached up and buckled the seat belt for me. “Anything for you, fairy.” 
We shared a quick kiss before he shut the door and jogged over to the driver's side. The back seat of his truck was packed up with both of our equipment. Even though it was nearing midnight and we both were exhausted, there was no way Matt would leave the equipment in the truck. He’d spend an hour once we arrived home unloading everything and putting it in their respective places. 
Matt started the truck, letting it idle and warm up a bit since it was a little chilly tonight, and I could help but smile as I watched him type away on his phone. The lights from the dashboard and his phone luminated his face, more so the dimple in his cheeks when he smiled. He tossed his hat on the middle console once he sat behind the wheel and shook out his long golden hair. He wore his typical work fit of joggers with a hoodie and it just urged me on further to snuggle up to him in bed the second we got home. 
“Are you hungry? We can stop at a drive through on the way home?” He asked while tying his hair back. 
“I’m fine,” my voice was quiet. “I really just want to get home so I can change into your sweats and snuggle up in bed with my best boys.” 
Matt leaned over and cupped my cheek, the truck still idling in the parking lot of the venue. “Everything alright?” 
I nodded in his grasp. “More than alright. I love you.” 
“I love you more,” he breathed over my lips before capturing them in a tender kiss. 
It was sensual, slow, yet filled with so much love it made my head spin as his fingers dragged down from my cheek to my neck to hold me in place at the back of it. My hands rested on his chest as my tongue brushed along his bottom lip before exploring his mouth. The kiss deepened as our tongues fought for dominance and soon the air in the truck was no longer chilled but thick with sexual tension. His large hands rested on my hips to bring me over the center console so I was able to sit in his lap. 
Our hands wandered each other's bodies, mine ripping out the band that held his hair together so I could pull on the ends as I continued to kiss him with such fervor. Matt was usually the dominant one but he allowed me to take the lead as I left kisses from his mouth down his jaw and neck line, all the while rutting my hips into his. The hardness of his cock evident in his joggers as it brushed against my pussy through my leggings. 
“Matt,” I moaned while sinking my teeth into the sweet spot of his neck; the one I knew drove him wild. 
“What do you want?” His fingers slipped underneath my shirt to tease my nipples through my bralet. “Come on, fairy. Use your words.” 
His mouth worked on leaving a mark just below my ear and when I pressed my pussy harder against his cock, I could feel the cool wetness between my legs. I’d been so wound up with our kissing that all I needed was another minute of dry humping Matt to tip over the edge. So instead of speaking, I reached for the waistband of his joggers to pull out his cock but when I bent low, wanting a taste, my ass hit the horn on the steering wheel; the noise echoing throughout the empty parking lot. 
My giggles filled the space of the truck as I pulled away from Matt, who still had half of his cock hanging out of his pants; the smallest bead of precum gathering at the slit. 
“We should stop making out like a couple of teenagers and get home,” I sighed while starting to get off of his lap. 
“I’m not going to make it home,” his voice was gone, lost in lust, as he wrapped his arm around my back so he could hold me to his chest. 
Opening the door, he carried me over to the bed of his truck and opened the door with a free hand. He already had a blanket laid out because Zeus loved to ride in the back here when we would drive over to Noah’s and Y/N’s house. 
“Matt,” I warned while looking over the parking lot as he set me on the blanket. “What if someone sees us?” 
He shrugged while pulling off his shirt with such an attractive ease, it made my pussy clench. 
“No one’s here, Faye. Everyone’s left,” he climbed up into the bed of the truck and stalked over towards me. 
My hair cascaded down my shoulders and back causing Matt to twirl a strand between his fingers. 
His blue stained fingers. 
“Do you know how hard it is to get this dye off of you? I had to hide my hands in my pockets tonight when I wasn’t working,” he grumbled under his breath. 
I giggled while linking our hands together and bringing them to my lips to pepper his knuckles with kisses. 
“I told you to wear gloves, dummy. But let me show you my gratitude for dying my hair earlier today,” I muttered while wrapping my legs around his hips to bring him back down towards me. 
Our lips met again in kiss, tongues fighting for dominance once more. Matt made quick work of removing my shirt and helping me shimmy out of my legging. The chilly breeze bounced off my heated skin as Matt pressed his body against mine. He swallowed my moan when his fingers brushed over my soaked panties, teasing my clit. 
“Please,” I murmured against his lips. “I need you, Matthew.”
Matt’s mouth left kissed down my neck, between the valley of my breasts after he took off my bralette, and it hovered over my navel. His warm breath spoke into my skin. 
“I love you.” 
Those dark eyes stared up at me through his long lashes and I brushed away the hairs from his face as I gazed down at him. 
“I love you too.” 
With a kiss to the inside of my palm, Matt dragged down my panties to pocket them right before he quickly worked himself out of his joggers and briefs. Both of us lay there naked in the bed of his truck, the moonlight and stars in our backdrop. He looked absolutely ethereal staring down at me and my heart swelled when the corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smirk. 
“You’re staring,” he teased while shifting himself between my legs. 
“Can you blame me? I have a gorgeous boyfriend and I can't help but stare,” I mused. 
Even in the darkness, only illuminated by the street light a few feet down from us, I could see the faintest crimson hue cover Matt’s cheeks. His fingers wrapped around the head of his cock to gather the precum and rubbed it between two fingers before dragging it up and down my pussy. 
“You’re already so wet for me, Faye,” Matt observed. 
I breathed while arching my back off the blanket. “All I thought about today was you in that ski mask.” 
He hummed while guiding the head of his cock between my legs. “I’m so glad I listened to you and we watched our sex tape this morning.”
Locking eyes with me, Matt slowly pushed himself inside of me and I let out a noise that was a mix between a groan and a moan. His long hair fell to my chest like waves as he rested his forehead there, his hips stilling for a long moment. 
“I’m not going to last long, Faye,” he muttered into my skin, right before his tongue flicked over my nipple. 
“Neither am I,” I breathed while scraping my nails in his hair to pull his face up to me, crashing my lips to his. 
Just like the pace of his cock, our kiss was slow and sensual. We both were taking our time with each other, savoring every part of each other. Matt hooked my legs over his lower back to angel his cock deeper and my head fell away from his lips, down to the bed of his truck. He linked our fingers together, placing them over my head, as his pace began to quicken. Matt was close, his cock pulsating inside of me, and I raided my hips up to meet every one of his thrusts. The base of my spine began to burn with the heat of my blooming orgasm, something I made evident with a whine. 
“Faye,” Matt grunted, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I’m gonna-.” 
I kissed the freckles that lined his shoulder, urging him to fall to the edge with me. My orgasm was quiet yet powerful, as my jaw fell slack. Matt pressed his forehead against mine so look deep into my eyes. 
“Marry me.” 
With one final thrust, he spilled himself inside of me as I continued to stare up into his eyes, white noise loud in my ears as I tried to make sense of the two words he just muttered. 
“Wh-what did you say?” I choked on air. 
Matt brushed his nose along mine. “Marry me, Faye.”
My heart jumped in my throat and my body shook underneath him. Every single fiber of my soul was set ablaze and I couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on my face. 
“Are you sure?” I asked, blinking through the sudden tears that gathered in the corner of my eyes and held his face. 
He now cupped my face to lay a tender kiss on my lips. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I will carry you for all eternity, fairy. I want you to be my wife.” 
Still buried deep inside of me, Matt reached for his joggers that lay scattered in the bed of the truck and dug in the pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. 
“Wait!” My eyes bulged while I rested up on my elbow, the chilled night air brushed over my peaked nipples. “Was this whole thing planned?” 
Matt now slipped out of me, much to my dismay, and sat on his knees while rubbing the back of his neck. 
“Well, if I’m being honest, the question kind of tumbled out like word vomit.”
I parted my lips to speak, suddenly feeling very hurt but Matt noticed so he quickly waved me off. “I want to marry you, Faye. I had plans on asking you but I don’t have a ring. I do have this though. I bought it for you the other day but haven't found the perfect time to give it to you.” 
My body shook from not only the cold but also the shock of everything the last few minutes so before he gave me his gift, Matt wrapped another blanket around my shoulders and then sat in front of me. When he slowly opened the black velvet box, I gasped before snapping my eyes up at him. 
“The Evenstar?” My bottom lip wobbled as I blew out a shaky breath. 
He fucking proposed with the necklace from The Lord of The Rings? 
If Matt hadn’t just fucked me in the bed of his truck, I would have taken him all the way down my throat in appreciation. 
Matt wore that loveable, dorky, smile as he nodded. “You left it up on your laptop and kept muttering around the house about how much you wanted to buy it but it was too expensive.” 
“Matthew,” I breathed. “You-.” 
“Yes, I did,” he interrupted me by taking out the necklace and leaned forward, placing it around my neck. 
“Now, it’s not a ring. But we can take our time and find one that fits you perfectly.” 
I immediately grasped at it, holding it tightly in my hand while blinking away the tears. “I love it.” 
“So,” Matt raised a brow, twirling a piece of my teal hair around his finger. “Is that a yes?” 
“YES!” I yelled out into the night air as I tackled him down onto the bed of the truck, my lips colliding with his. 
79 notes · View notes
cutecinnamon · 7 months ago
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Concurrence II
{ Concurrence II: "The Captain's Incubator" • Levi x Reader }
CW: ⊹₊ MDNI ⊹₊ Mention of Insults ⊹₊ Pregnancy ⊹₊ Morning Sickness ⊹₊
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:gif by pinterest
• 2.1k word count •
Note: Please read "Concurrence I" first since this is a series to avoid confusion for the story, here is the link ♡ Concurrence I
EDITED: Concurrence III is already up! ♡
:divider by @cafekitsune
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Synopsis:
The following weeks after (y/n)'s pregnancy was confirmed she started to experience morning sickness. Rumors also started to circulate inside the regiment, majority of the scouts started to give (y/n) disgusted glances and words of insult. Until one of them namely Floch decided to insult her at the mess hall, catching Captain Levi's attention.
PART II
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
The next few weeks were a bit more bearable.
Despite Levi still keeping the same cold and stern demanor towards you and to honestly everyone at the regiment, atleast you knew he was looking after you and that he cares.
Although it was subtle, it was hard to gone by unnoticed as Levi rarely shows this side of him.
He made sure that you ate properly for you and your baby, that you had time to rest despite still being active in your squad, he also secured the fact that you can only participate in light missions to not further exhaust your now fragile body, and most importantly he always makes sure you were alive and safe.
Although you're relationship was not the very best due to the dent left by your betrayal, it was enough for you that at the very least, he did care about your well-being and your baby.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Your new routine of retching and heaving every morning was not the best, but then again it was part of the pregnancy to feel morning sickness, your appetite was also a bit affected as you became a bit more picky in terms of your prefference in taste.
Levi was woken up by your muffled sounds of throwing up at the sink inside your shared quarters as you tried your best to be quiet in order not to wake him,
You knew that Levi had insomnia and it was a rare event for him to get a good deep sleep.
"(y/n), are you alright?" Levi asked, his voice still sleepish and low due to the circumstance of just waking up from bed.
You wipe your mouth and opened the faucet, cleaning the remains of the quantity you just discarded.
"Yes captain, just the usual." You responded to Levi, not wanting to worry him.
"Make sure to clean the sink properly brat, I don't want to see any pieces of leftover bile in there." Levi reminded with his usual monotone way of speaking as he ran his fingers through his hair fixing a few strands falling at his face.
"I promise to clean it Captain, it is my duty to keep our quarters clean afterall..." you then gave him a small smile.
"Make sure to maintain that attitude kid." Levi said as he made his way towards the small kitchen counter to prepare his tea.
"Its either kid or brat huh?" Ask him and chuckle lightly.
You find it heartwarming when Levi calls you brat or kid, even if it is his way of sometimes annoying you and your squadmates in a very subtle manner.
"Do you want some (y/n)? It might help with your nausea." Levi plainly asked.
"Yes Captain, I appreciate it." you responded as you made your way towards the small kitchen to help him.
Levi professionaly prepared the tea for the both of you, he was very fond of drinking and preparing tea as it was his way of also relieving stress,
It also became a routine for him to drink early in the morning and randomly when he feels like he is up for it.
"Captain, I'm sorry for accidentaly waking you up while I wa-" before you can continue, he cuts you off.
"Don't sweat it, its not your fault that the baby inside you is making your body act up like this." He casually said, his tone proving he is unbothered by the sudden disturbance to his sleep.
Levi then went to the wooden cabinet and grabbed two pearl finished small teacups, one of it in pastel blue, which was your personal cup and the other one in pastel green which is his, he then fills it up with fresh warm tea up to its rim.
He then gestures for you to take a cup and you politely nodded thanking him once again.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
You were now on your way to the mess hall, walking beside your Captain.
Both of you are now wearing your scout uniform as you both walked side by side at the hallway occupied by many scouts also walking towards your direction.
Although you were still not showing since you were just a couple of weeks along, the rumors did spread pretty fast despite it not having proper confirmation.
After entering the mess hall, you were then greeted by either scouts gossiping while looking at you in a disgusted way or them avoiding even the slightest glance of you like you were a walking plague.
You just silently followed Levi through the crowd as you both went towards an empty table beside the table of your squadmates.
"Make sure to eat properly." Levi reminded with his usual stern and firm tone of voice, it sounded more like a command.
You nod and sat down at the chair while Levi takes both of your plates to get some food.
While sitting down, your squadmates greeted you, despite the bad treatment and rude glances they were the contrast.
They greeted you as usual, with their warm smiles and welcoming warm glance,
They care about you, and they don't see you differently.
"Hey, (y/n) how are you?" Armin asked while Jean, Connie and Sasha were arguing in front of him if potatoes taste good if grilled.
"Hi Armin, I'm doing alright." You politely answered and gave him a small smile.
"You should avoid them (y/n), those douchebags don't know anything." Mikasa stated, looking at you, it was obvious she was annoyed with how the others were treating you, throwing glances like that without even knowing the full story behind what happened.
Although the survey corps was a rather busy regiment with the sole purpose of protecting humanity, cutting titan napes, and now investigating any bit of information from Marley, the people in it do have the time to gossip and spread rumors.
Especially about you.
Eversince the news spread about your situation and so called "betrayal", majority of your comrades treated you differently, some of them even regarded to you namely as,
"The Captain's incubator"
"The Captain's stress relief"
"Marleyan whore"
And other insults that you started to just stomach knowing that proving a point was worthless at this rate.
Levi cameback with a good amount of food at your plate, it was evident that he was looking after your health more, making sure you ate enough for yourself and the baby.
You accepted the plate and politely said a "thank you." To him, he then responded with a simple nod as he sat down the chair beside you.
Your sqaudmates beside you also started to eat their meal,
While eating, you felt your nausea attack you again and the overwhelming feeling to discard the contents in your stomach, you then excused yourself from Levi who was silently eating beside you.
You stood up and made your way towards the bathroom connected to the mess hall.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
After the not so surprising routine of another retching and heaving session, you decided to exit the bathroom door to head back towards your table.
Thankfully all the scouts are busy eating their food or rather occupied with their new found gossips or existing once about you, making throwing up easier knowing they are too busy minding their own bussiness to even hear you.
As you made your way towards your table someone called you and insulted you making the other scouts look towards your direction.
"Well... well... if it isn't the Captain's Incubator."
Floch called out to you, insulting you in the process, although you were feeling the strong urge to punch his asshole looking face, you decided to keep a calm and professional demanor.
"Its nice to see you too Floch." You casually replied despite him calling you the "Captain's Incubator."
"Are you in a hurry? I'm just here to ask how the rumored Marleyan Incubator is doing." Floch said in a somewhat teasing tone despite keeping his voice in monotone.
"I honestly am in a hurry, the Captain is waiting for me and I still need to finish my food." You responded trying your best to be civil and ignoring the fact that he called you a "Marleyan Incubator".
"Come on (y/n), I'm sure someone like you isn't all that good to follow the Captain's every order like a little dog." Floch said clearly insulting you in front of everyone at the mess hall.
You decided to stay silent and just walk away to head back towards your table.
"Come back here you walking baby making machine."
Before you could talk back to him, you saw Levi walking towards Floch, there was a different glint of rage expressed in his orbs.
He stands between you and Floch, facing him.
"Captai-" before Floch even finished addressing him with his military title, Levi cuts him off.
"Shut up if you don't want me to cut off your filthy tongue, do you understand?" Levi stated calmly yet firmly, it honestly sounded more of a threat just hiding in the coldness of his professional tone and way of speaking.
"But Captain its true though, the Queen really did order her to just carry your child like an Incubator, and not to mention, she betrayed the whole regiment, especially you since she was under your special operations squad."
Floch rebuked, clearly annoyed that Levi was even trying to protect you.
Levi noticed now, even earlier how the other scouts kept gossiping and looking like they were enjoying the show,
Of Floch insulting you.
Aside from your squad who he stopped earlier from standing up, planning to speak up for you,
because he wanted to do it himself.
"I would appreciate it if you stop talking to the mother of my child like that." Levi firmly stated.
"Rather than spreading shitty rumors and insulting her in front of me, I think that seeing you become Titan's feed is even more amusing than the show you're currently pulling off right now." Levi continued his gaze not faltering, making him more intimidating in front of everyone, especially to Floch that he called a titan feed.
Floch fell silent, he felt embarassed and at the same time his fuel of rage started to ignite towards (y/n) as the scouts were now looking at his direction.
He did not expect the Captain to speak up for you but he did.
After a few seconds of silence Floch speaks as he made eye contact with Levi's piercing gaze, he knew that behind that professional and nonchalant demanor, Levi really was pissed and annoyed.
"My apologies Captain, I won't speak ill of her again." Floch said as he lowered his head a bit to show respect for Levi.
"Just get out of my sight." Levi stated still with his firm and stern approach.
After Floch walked away, Levi grabbed your arm gently as he leads you back to your table near your squadmates.
Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Connie and Sasha were all looking at Levi with their jaws slightly hanging and their eyes flickering with a bit of surprise not expecting the Captain to stand up for you during earlier.
Levi then gave them a glare making them focus back on their food like nothing happened.
"You should eat now, your food is getting cold." Levi stated while he took a bite from his own meal.
You nod and took a spoonful of rice and grilled meat with gravy.
"Don't let it get to you brat, and don't let them speak to you like that again." Levi said firmly, once again it very much sounded like a command.
"Yes Captain, and thank you for earlier..."
You genuinely did thank him for that,
regardless of your current status he still decided to defend you in front of everyone.
"Don't mention it, its nothing." Levi responded in his usual monotone voice.
You gave him a quick small genuine smile, Levi saw it. and for a second you saw a bit of light in his eyes, something warm.
Levi then proceeded to look away, bringing his attention back to his food.
Another small smile made its way to your lips as you took another bite from the food in your plate.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
"(y/n) betrayed Marley, I told you she can't be trusted to bring Intel here, she may have the skill but she is certainly not the type to become a puppet." Porco stated.
"We can't blame her, everyone has the freedom to one's own belief, but regardless she is a Marleyan, she should be at Marley's side and not those people, This is a war." Pieck calmly responded.
"I heard that the traitor is expecting a devil's child inside her womb." Zeke spoke, cutting of the conversation between Pieck and Porco, his tone was his usual, but they can tell that he has plans for her.
"I don't think it is fitted for an Ex-Marleyan Warrior to carry an Ackerman child, a child of a Paradis devil." Zeke added, it was clear as day that he was already planning something.
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Taglist: @levislegislation @dontfollowab @3llawrit3s
( Edited: I tried to proof read it one more time and I decided to change a few words and I tried to correct as much error as I can ♡ )
I really enjoyed writing Levi's lines for this one, but I was really contemplating about a lot of scenes here and I am very thankful for the opinions of those I asked ♡ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
If you also want to be a part of the taglist, please do tell me,
I'll be starting the drafts for Concurrence III soon, I hope you all enjoy this one, ♡
- Cinna
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lynaferns · 7 months ago
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The Forest On The Other Side
Chapter 1: I want to go home.
Ver. [ENGLISH / SPANISH]
EDIT: This fic is now on AO3
A girl gets lost in the forest and finds a misterious gate in the middle of nowhere. At the other side she meets a... very peculiar individual who seems to only want to befriend her and play. Everything seems fine. Until night falls and someone else joins to play...
Again, I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. English is not my first lenguage and I still mess up sometimes.
This is in some way a more "joyful" story than BIOMáquina, still with its dark themes. I wrote this a year ago. By this I mean I forced myself to get it written down and ended up hating it and burning myself out. A couple of weeks ago I decided to reread it and I though it was pretty ok actually, so I edited it a bit to make it flow better. It used to be written more as a script for the comic I wanted to draw buuuut that didn't happen (cough stressed myself out cough forced myself cough don't force yourself to make content out of a hobby, a hobby is supposed to be for your own fun). I'm not completely satisfied with the final draft but I think is good enough for my first ever fic written.
I originally planned to make it a Y/N thing but that didn't last long. But I keeped the original idea of the first person POV. The Y/N stories I've read has always some narrator telling you what you do insert you in the story. I thought of making the MC the narrator, this way the reader can insert themselves like it's their story or they can read it as if someone else is telling them a story. This is also a bit limiting, since the narration is also the MCs thought process and sometimes I may skip details MC couldn't have seen.
AU, Magical forest, DCA centered, Sun fnaf, Moon fnaf, Elves Sun & Moon, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (kind of), Moon is agresive at first, Moon is also a bit of a gremlin, Protective Sun (I think), OC is a potty mouth, Female Main Character, First person, Angst.
The first post where I showed this AU and my first sketches ideas.
Tumblr archive with all of the art, ideas and anwsered asks.
Youtube Playlist which I'm pretty proud of how it turned out :] It's in a specific order but you can put it on mix.
Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers.
CW: Anxiety, Suicide ideation, Implied death, Choking, Non sexual abuse.
Wordcount: 9,700 (It's not rounded, that's literally the number Word tells me it's at lol)
Welp.
Here we are again, in the old village house (yey...). Well, 'I am', my family won't arrive to settle in for another week. They brought me here beforehand a few days ago for organizational reasons. They took a quick look inside before they left to see the state of the house, if it needed any repairs and such, and they headed back to the city. While they finish preparing everything, I take care of the house and text them messages about anything that may be needed for when they return.
We haven't been here in years, the house needs some repairs, and I'm sorry for the spiders, but it could use a deep cleaning. We can't do a deep cleaning but I have been cleaning what I can these last few days, at least so that it looks decent... at first glance.
Well, it's not like anyone is coming to visit.
It's a quiet town, until the kids from the town next door come to make a racket with their bikes. They play in our field, scare away the cats and throw cans around. They are assholes.
Anyways, the people in the village are nice. The adults I mean, the kids I used to play with, I don't get along with them anymore. Some of them aren't kids anymore, we have grown up and are going down different paths. But those who are still kids... they're still interested in the only older kid in the town who listened to them and let them do whatever they wanted, to a certain extent.
I don't want them to come looking for me to go out and play. I've been avoiding them by saying that I'm busy cleaning the house and getting it ready for when my family arrives, but I feel like interacting with them less and less. That's why I'm going out to the woods behind the house to get lost for a while, as always. The kids don't go near the forest so they won't bother me there.
There is an area for tourism and hiking but not many people come, some police cars border the forest from time to time but they never go inside. The reports of missing people in this forest have been coming in for decades, only some lost children have returned but there is no trace of any of the adults who disappeared along with the rest of the children. The areas marked with signs are safe but you can't go out of bounds unless you want to disappear with those people.
And I, who right now am alone and with no one to notice my absence if I go missing, am going to head straight to the forest. Don't you think, I don't want to disappear, I just don't like people and I usually go into the forest but I don't go too far away. As long as I see my house in the distance, I know how to return.
I grab my bag with my sketchbook and pencil case, in case I feel like drawing (probably won't) and step out to the back porch. The outer sliding metal door that protects the inner one is rusty and difficult to open. It would be better to oil it but I don't know when it will be done, considering that the broken railing has had a wooden board tied to it for years. I already sent my mother a message talking about it.
I enter the forest and start walking around. It's hot, of course, it's early summer, but it's quite noticeable after being in the cool inside the brick and stone house. That's the good thing about coming here in summer, the houses are made to stay cold inside and it's great, sometimes I even need to wear a jacket. But outside I'm dying, the trees don't provide enough shade. In fact, some trees are missing. I used to have my routes memorized but time has passed and some paths have changed, some have disappeared and others have formed. I admit that it makes me a little sad... I began to walk absorbed in my thoughts not paying attention to where I was going.
I'm walking away, I should go back. I'm not going to draw anything here anyway, and it's hotter outside than inside so I'm gonna to turn around-
I hear screams and laughter in the distance, the sound of the voices produces me an immediate disgust. It's those kids from the next door village. They must have come to 'investigate' about the disappearances or maybe they don't care and they just came to be idiots-
They're getting closer.
I don't want them to see me. God. Don't let them see me. Anyone but them. They're getting closser. Don't let them see me. I can't go back home now. They're cutting me off. Of all the people who could have found me. It had to be them. No, please. Don't let them see me. I have to go further into the forest, I can't let them see me. They're getting closer. Don't let them see me. I want to leave. I want to leave. I'm getting too far. I want to leave. I don't see my house. I want to leave. I don't see the village. I want to leave. I don't see the kids.
...
...
...
Where am I?
Fuck.
Where am I?
I want to leave.
I want to leave.
I want to leave.
I want to leave.
Now I'm wandering through the forest. I don't want to go back. I want to get out of here. Even though I'm walking in a straight line I feel like I'm going around in circles, and I'm not going to get out of here now. Great. I'm lost. Now what? People who get lost in this forest don't return, no one has returned except for some children.
...
I'm going to disappear.
...
For now I keep walking until something happens. Maybe there's an animal that kills people who get lost, or maybe it's a group of kidnappers, or maybe I should stop giving myself anxiety and focus on getting out of here. Maybe if I find a field or road, or even the tourist area, I'll be able to get out of here and return bordering the fores-
...
There is... colorful graffitis on the trees. Someone has painted eyes, hands, stars and more on the bark of the trees...
What's this?
I don't know where I've come to, I didn't know this was here, in the middle of nowhere in the forest. The trees have red leaves like in autumn even though summer has just started... The first thing I thought was 'climate change's fault' but there is something that stands out in the middle of this entire flat area and it is disturbing me.
In the center there is a kind of circular gate made of stones supported by roots.
Okay, maybe it doesn't sound aaaaas disturbing as, I don't know, a totem with a human figure being impaled or something, but it's giving me a bad vibe. What is this place? Who built a stone arch in the middle of everything and why?
A bird appears flying from behind me and goes through the gate, but nothing comes out on the other side... wait what? how? The bird has crossed the gate, and disappeared behind the stone arch? ...I had to imagine it, it's not possible that that happened. I approach the arch but not before picking up a rock from the ground and throwing it to the other side of the gate.
It's still there.
For some reason the thought of going through the gate makes me uncomfortable, so I go around it.
...
...And the rock? It's not there.
I go back and look from inside the portal.
The rock is there.
...
I look from outside. The rock is not there. I repeat this multiple times. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock... What?
Alright, this is weird, this is VERY weird.
Even though it is clear that this isn't normal, I have to go back, pick up a fallen branch from the ground and pass it through the portal. This time I don't throw it, I've grabbed a branch long enough to see it peek out from the other side of the arch.
...
Welp.
I should be seeing not only the branch, but also my hand sticking out of the side, but I'M NOT SEEING IT. OKAY. OK. ALRIGHT. IT'S CONFIRMED. THIS IS WEIRD.
I'm asleep, right? Or unconscious. I must have passed out from exhaustion from endlessly wandering through the woods and I'm delirious or something. No, wait, it can't be, in my dreams I'm not this aware of what's around me. Where am I?
A breeze begins to pass through the gate. It's getting stronger but not enough to push me. The leaves rise from the ground and float towards the portal, none slipping outside, all entering through the stone arch. Suddenly the breeze that had become wind stops. The leaves fall to the ground.
...
I look back for a moment, as if there was something behind me that could help me make a decision. Grabbing with both hands my bag strap I look back at the portal again. Okay. Alright. This is possibly the death of me. I'm going to cross. I'm going to go to the other side. I'm just one step away from crossing. I wrinkle my face and narrow my eyes before taking the last step.
...
Nothing has happened. Everything seems the same. However, I know it's not the same... Or at least it doesn't feel the same!
Well, I've already crossed. I'm gonna... keep walking, I guess, even though this is scaring me and I don't know if I'll know how to go back. For now I'm moving forward. The red leaves have disappeared several meters ago. It's starting to look like a normal forest, except for the multicolored drawings and handprints that I keep seeing on the trees. In fact, it seems like the trees are taller with every step I take. So high that I can barely see the top. I almost tripped while looking up. Whether this is the same forest I come from, I no longer know.
This was a bad idea. I just hope to find something that'll help me know where I am, a sign or the road if possible.
*cling*
...?
I hit something with my foot. There is a ball attached to a small chain on the ground. Oh, no, wait. *cling diring ding* It's a rusty bell, I think. It doesn't have the typical cross-shaped hole or slot, rather it has several holes in a pattern. It looks like it can be opened.
There's nothing inside.
?
There's nothing? But I could have sworn it had rang. I close it again and shake it.
*...*
Nothing.
I'm going to put it in the bag, it's totally a good idea. I'll think about it later, for now I'm moving on.
I've been walking for a while now and throughout this time I had a constant chill on the back of my neck, as if someone had their eyes on me.
*din dirring* I hear a soft tinkling in the distance.
Okay, I'm not alone, awesome, what do I do now? Do I say hi and risk the potential danger finding me? Do I ignore the sound of bells and keep moving? It's very possible that whatever made that sound is watching me right now...
“Hello?” Still nervous, I try to say hello looking around “...” “Is someone there? H-hello?”
“-HEEEEELLO!”
“AAAAAH-!” I cover my mouth with my hands as I turn to look at what the hell has greeted me back. I take a few steps back while I look at the figure of earthy and sunny tones who responded, he seems as surprised as I am, I think (with the scream I made, normal), at least it looks like he's surprised. He wears a two toned wooden mask... it looks like a sun, with a crescent moon on its right... It gives the impression of two faces merged into one... Damn, he is tall, he's almost doubles my size. He appears to have two skin tones dividing him in half, his right side being the lighter and the left darker, especially the arm, which also has a light-colored tattoo of lines representing a sun symbol that covers from the shoulder to the pectoral and to the middle of the bicep. The right arm is covered by a long fingerless glove that reaches to the shoulder and is tied around the chest. He's wearing baggy pants with leaves coming out of the waist and legs, some... cloth boots? with a long toe bending sharply and curving in a geometric swirl with a bell at the tips, a bag hangs from the waistband of his pants and falls below his hips. His chest and neck are tied by ropes decorated with hanging stones, metals and crystals, he wears a pendant that ends in a carved symbol of a crescent moon with rays. Some of the 'sunrays' on his mask have ropes tied between them holding them in place and some metal dangling. Some red ribbons along with bells hang from his wrists.
“um... Helloooooo.” He greets again, this time he lowers his tone of voice. I manage to react, I turn around and walk away. “¡ah- eh- Wait!” Nope, I'm not going to wait and see what he does with me, I'm leaving. “He-! Hey!” Nope. I quicken my pace and try to get lost among the trees, changing direction every time he appears in my vision angle. “Human? Human-! FRIEND. Can I call you friend?!” Nope, nope, nopnop, nop, nop, nope. “Friend! Hey!” God, no, god, god, no, why are you following me? “Look, I know what you're trying to look for...! And believe me, you're not going to find it~!” How are you still following me? Where do you come from? “Hey! Listen! Why don't we do something else besides running in circles!?” Noooooooooo... “There are TONS of other activities we could do! Like... HOLY MOLY, look at this stick! Do you like sticks!?” Leave me aloneee... “You aren't looking at it! Okay, alright, you don't like sticks, erm... what might be of interest to you...” If I don't look at it it doesn't exist. “Could you help me a little here?” I want to leave... “Look, no matter how much you wander around, you won't find the portal-!”
“STOP—! STOP FOLLOWING ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The sudden scream startles him again, making him jump in place. He stands completely still looking at me. I'm leaving before he gets angry.
“B-but I- ...okay.” I thought I heard him say before I left him behind.
It seems that this time he's not following me, finally... Although I'm not calm, he could still be following me and simply not be in sight. Anyway, I think I'm coming back? I hope I am. I want to find that portal as soon as possible and go back to the house- what the fu-? “WHY?”
He's there. Right where I left him. Sitting on a rock. Waiting. “...! I haven't moved from the spot!”
“Yeah- but- WHY?”
“Because I knew you were going to come back here!”
“...What?”
“Is what I was trying to tell you! You can't leave! No matter how hard you try to find the portal, it won't appear before you!” The Sunman exclaimed.
“…” I'm just about to turn around. In fact, I'm already turning around.
“N-No, wait! Please don't go!” I stop in my track and look back at him. He gets off the rock he was sitting on but remains squatting, almost at my height, a little below. I move back, keeping my distance. He puts his hands up. “Look, I'm not doing anything! I won't chase you! Just- ...don't go.”
“…”
“L-look, listen, there's no way it's going to show up! Well, not to you at least. But even if you find it back, it won't work! It only works when it wants to work.”
“...” Let's imagine that I trust what he says “Ok... and when does it want to be working?”
“...” “No idea!”
“...”
“...”
I'm about to collapse on the spot. At least he doesn't seem hostile, for now. “...” “Okay... Good... Great...” “...” “FanTAS-tic.”
“...” “You don't seem like it.”
*ಠ_ಠ* I could only look to the side in frustration in response to that. I looked back at him with concern showing on my face and grabbing the strap of my bag with both hands. “And... what... do you plan to do with me?”
He took his hand to the chin of his mask and with the other he held his elbow in a comical thoughtful pose. “MmmmnnDUN know! What do you plan to do?” He asked so nonchalantly. He ended up sitting on the ground crossing his legs. “You have a good while until the portal opens again...!”
“...”
“...”
“...”
He started swaying. The silence has become uncomfortable for a while now, but I can't organize myself on what to say, and I don't know if I trust him. I don't even know if he's human, although something tells me he's not.
“You could wait here.” He suggested, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Or anywhere else, if you want. I would recommend somewhere high like the treetops (for no particular reason)! If you're going to wait... But wouldn't that be really boring?” There was something in his tone of voice... “Being there... at the top of a tree... waiting... alone... with no friends to hang out with (can I call you a friend?). Aaall on your own until the portal opens again.” He looks aside for a moment “...” And back at me again. “With no one to be with you.” He repeats the head motion “...” “alone...” Wow... I wonder what he's implying, ahem. “Wouldn't you want to have someone...? ...Someone...keeping you company?” Yeah, yeah...
“...” I guess... “I-I guess I wouldn't want to be alon-?”
He rises to his knees. “That's what I thought! Do you want me to accompany you? Only if you want! But can I?” He clasped his hands together as if asking a favor.
“um...”
“Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?” He approaches, dragging his knees on the ground.
I'm starting to miss personal space. “Okay! Okay, alright...”
“REALLY?” He started hopping and jumping around me. “OH, ohoho hO! Great! Oh, there are TONS of things we could do! Like... Like...!” He moves faster, doing bigger and bigger flips and jumps, it almost seems that he is very light, as if the breeze of air lifted him. “We could paint and decorate trees! Or we can also paint on rocks! Or paint leaves! Or paint us! Oh! We can tell stories! I'm very good at making shadows and puppets.” He moves from place to place with each sentence he says. “We can also play something!” It's moving so fast all I can see is the wind and the leaves it stirs up as it moves. “Anything! Whatever you want!” Finally he stopped in front of me half crouched. “What do ya say?! Hmm! Friend!?”
“Don't... call me like that.” Makes me feel awkward.
“Oh...why not-? Oh true, true! How silly, I don't know your name! What do you call yourself, potential friend?”
“...”
“...” “Aren't... you gonna tell me your name?”
I twist the bag strap “Depends...” I must say I'm a little skeptical about this. “Are there any consequences for telling you my name?”
“...Consequences...?”
“Like... I don't know... Mmm-by telling you my name I become your possession and cannot regain my freedom until... certain conditions are met...”
“...”
“...”
“Why- how-? Where did you get that from!?” It did sound a bit stupid when I said it out loud.
“I dunno- that's what they say in old children's stories about elves and fairies!” I just hope the embarrassment isn't showing on my face.
“Really?” I could feel his deadpan expression behind the mask.
I shrugged.
“...” “Okay... Oh, what if I tell you my name first? Will you tell me yours? It's only fair, I'm Sun!”
“...”
“Can I know your name now?” He asked expectantly.
“...How do I know you're not trying to trick me?”
“...” I must be driving him crazy with this “The only thing I can do with your name is treasure it in my memory.” He put his hands together as if he was carefully holding something and brought them to the forehead of the mask. I gave him a distrustful look. It doesn't seem like it made him desist “Please?”
I grip at my worn out bag strap “...” “ Fern...” I ended up murmuring.
“Hmm? Fern? OH, I like it!” “Sounds like FRIEND.” He emphasized the last word by making a gesture like jazz hands, leaning to the side and moving his head closer to me.
“Yeah... I think you are missing a couple of letters.”
He straightened his posture again. “Nope, I don't think so!”
“You're still not my friend.”
“Oooowwwwwnnnnnggghhh” He lowers his head dramatically until it practically touches the ground “nnnnnnngggghh, alright!” And cartwheels to stand up again “So... what will it be?”
“Hm?”
He straightened his posture and puts his arms on his hips “We have plenty of time, ya? What do you wanna to do?”
“I don't know, what do you want to do-?” Bad mistake.
“Come with me!”
“aaAAAAA-!” Before I knew it, he had grabbed my arm and I was being dragged through the woods. We visited several places and he offered me an activity to do in each of them.
Sun took me to a place where the trees were full of colorful paint “We practice painting on the trees here!” He said.
“Ah.” That explains the crossed out lines and the repeated imperfect shapes. By the look of it is also where he tests the quality of the paint.
“Do you want us to paint something!?”
“Not really...”
“Oh, would you prefer it to be on a rock?”
“Nah.”
“...And in star leaves-?”
“I don't want to paint, Sun.”
“Oh... Well, I can show you more places!”
“OkayyEEEEEE-” And I'm being dragged away again.
He brought me to another area of the forest, the ground here seemed more leveled. Not a single tree was straight, all of them were twisted and even seemed to be hollow. “How about playing something!? Like hide and seek-! No, wait, I can’t let you out of my sight.” He mumbled at the end “And chase?! We can climb a tree and see who reaches the top first! We have a place full of vines and it's perfect for swinging- and jumping from one tree to another-!”
“I don't... really want to move a lot…” With the way he runs without getting tired and me, who doesn't exercise... he would let me dead.
“Oh... well, theeen-”
We arrived at a place full of vegetation and humidity. Sun seemed quite excited... “This place is full of insects! We can look for cool bugs!”
“Mmmmmnoooo... I don't want to.” I had to tell him, trying to show as little disinterest as I could.
“You don't like them?” He sounded a little disappointed hearing my reaction.
“No, I do like them, some of them, but I don't like to touch them.” And I'm terrified of them flying into my face.
“Oh, well, it's okay!” He said brushing it off and we moved on to the next stop.
“I know that bird!” He stopped us on the way to point at a robin high up on a branch.
“ah.” I said as I removed leaves from my hair and clothes, and checked that I still had my glasses.
“He's a little rascal!”
“...” I think the bird is making us the equivalent of 'mooning'.
“Look fish-! Oh, they're gone…” The noise must have scared them away “We can go find more places to look at them if you want!”
“...” “...no, pass...”
“…”
“Look at this stick!” Sun had suddenly sprinted past me, picked up something from the ground, and came back just as fast, showing me the stick as if it were a sword.
“oh.” It's a cool stick, must admit it.
“Do you want to look for more sticks!?”
“No...”
“oh...” He looked at the ground in disappointment.
“Why would we go looking for sticks? There are all over the ground.” Specifically, in this area the ground was all sticks. We are literally just stepping on sticks right now. I don't see the ground.
“Variety!” Sun said pointing at the ground with both hands. A branch is heard falling in the distance.
“That's a deer!” He pointed at the deer passing nearby. The deer stopped to look at us.
“Yeah, I see.”
“We call 'em Adoquín!”
“...Why is it called Adoquí-?”
*THUMP!*
“…”
The deer smacked itself against a tree when trying to run away. It stands still for a minute, processing the hit, looks at a side and then the other, then runs off again but this time avoiding the tree.
Another *thump!* is heard in the distance.
“...” Alright.
“Do you wannaaaa look for pine cones? There will be some fallen around here. Oh! We can also look for mushrooms!”
I keep saying no to everything he suggests and it doesn't look like he's going to run out of ideas to pass the time. In fact, he's very insistent that we do something. I guess at some point I'll have to say yes to something. “...” “...okay...”
“Hmm?! Okay? Okay to what?” His exaggerated surprise offends me but I don't blame him.
“To... I don't know, pine cones?”
“...You don't look very convinced.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“OKAY! On the hunt for pine cones then!” I startle a little at the sudden shout. He makes a pose pointing in a direction, as if he were leading an expedition.
He takes me through the forest looking for pine cones. We aren't finding many, especially me who's not paying any interest. He tries encouraging me to put more effort into it but I keep looking at my boots.
We passed near a shingle river. I find a pebble at my feet and bend down to pick it up and take a better look. It's like a bluish gray, it has some reddish lines in the shape of waves, it feels good to the touch.
I hear the soft tinkling of a bell and feel a shadow fall beside me. “You like pebbles?” Sun is crouched next to me with his arms full of pine cones.
“…” I nod.
We go down to the river and spend some time collecting pebbles with curious shapes or small details of colors, lines, spots, etc. He comes over to show me one every time he finds weird shapes.
“…”
*rin* This time he's hunched over resting his hands on his knees. “You look… a little down.”
“…”
“Hey... we can do something else if you're tired of the pebbles.”
“...” I drop the pebbles I was looking at on the ground.
“...” He turns his gaze from me to the sky. It hasn't gotten late enough to be getting dark, but it's been a while between the walks we've taken (dragging me from here to there), looking for pine cones and then pebbles in the river. He looks back at me. “Oh, I know! Can I take you to one last place? A better place than the ones I've shown you!”
“…” I got up from the ground and waited for him to start leading to follow him.
We enter the increasingly thick forest. The trees are taller and bigger, in fact, I start to see platforms and bridges lying between the trees, I even see small shanties in them.
“Wait here!” He takes a run and jumps onto one of the trees with bridges. He takes three steps running up the tree, with a jump he pushes himself off and climbs with agility until he reaches the platform and climbs on it. “Just a moment!” It can't be seen from here but I can faintly hear some squeaks. I have no idea of what he's doin-
*rush*
“........eh?”
A rope.
A rope has fallen. At the level of my head.
“.......”
What?
He said he knew a better place.
No. It can't be this.
“Is it at a good height?! Can you reach it?!” He says...
It can't be.
A better place.
He can't be referring to this.
A better place.
A better place. A better place. A better place. A better place.
“Can you put your foot in?!”
“..........” For some reason what he said throws me off. “WAT-?”
“Can you put your foot in the loop and hold on to the rope so I can pull you up!?”
“..............”
“You can't climb trees, can you?! ...or you can?"
… “...” Oh “....It's...It's too high!”
“Okay!” Squeaks are heard and the rope descends to the ground.
I put my foot into the rope as he told me and hold on to it. “O-okay...!”
“Are you ready!?”
“Yes!”
“Okay!”
He begins to pull up the rope (which doesn't tighten around my foot as it supports my weight) and helps me up to the platform. (That's what it was for, obviously, what else would he want? I'm such an...) “Come on!” He says cheerfully, as always, and takes me over the bridges. “You seem tense... Don't tell me you're afraid of heights!”
“S-something like that... it's nothing.” He tilts his head at that but he says nothing. I have an unpleasant sensation in my throat.
We arrived at a high place with a view of waterfalls, I can't see above the trees. We sat on one of the bridges, resting our arms on the rope that serves as a railing and letting our legs hang off the bridge. I've thought about taking out the sketchbook to draw... but I don't really feel like it right now, so I just quietly observe the landscape. It is a better place, yeah.
I feel watched. I turn to look at him ...Of course he was looking at me. I don't even know whether to say something or keep quiet. ...I decide... not to say anything and look to the front.
“You... aren't very talkative, huh.”
“…”
“Not that it's a bad thing! Many people who have come here weren't very talkative at first either.” More people...
“...” “I have… nothing to talk about.” I don't want to talk.
“...” “Well, I do.”
“…”
“If it's okay with you, of course.” He laughed. Although something tells me that he is going to talk anyway.
“…”
“...” “What brings you to the forest?”
“...” Really? “I got lost.”
“Yeah, I already know!” He says between laughs “But what made you get lost?”
“...” “There was a group of kids I didn't want to get close to and I decided to go into the woods to lose them.” He makes a 'hum' sound and looks at me expectantly waiting for me to continue “And... I ended up getting myself lost...”
“...” “Only that?”
“...” “Well, yeah.” What do you mean 'oNlY tHaT'?
“...Mmm...” He places his hand on the chin of the mask.
“...” “What?”
“Nothing!” “...” “You know? You're the first human to visit the forest in a loooong time. For several cycles now…”
“Cycles?”
“Mhm” He nods.
“...What are cycles?”
Sun points to the sky “The turns that the Moon makes in the sky!” He emphasizes by rotating his arm in the air. It's pointing right at the Moon that's visible in the sky.
“Oh...” He uses the lunar cycles to know what day he's in, makes sense. “...” “So no one has been here in a while.”
“That's what I said! Well no, but yes!”
“A-and so the humans who came are still here? Have they been here all this time?”
“Yeah...! Well, no!” He paused. “They're gone!”
“What do you mean they're-?” He didn't let me finish the question.
“They are gone! They 'left'!” It sounded like he had given this answer many times already.
“What do you mean they left-?”
“They 'left'!”
“...” “...You mean...they disappear-?”
“Nope!” “...” “Something like that!” “…” “Mmmore or less…” He hesitated between one answer and another.
It seemed worthless to ask about the missing people. “...okay.” “Can I ask you-?”
“You can ask me anything!” A hint of nervousness escaped his tone.
“...okay. What is this forest?”
“My home! And the home of many other animals.”
“...” “Alright, and... how many are you...? How many of you live here? I mean. You have taken me everywhere and we haven't seen anyone of your…” I make a pointing gesture, spinning my hand around in the air. He can't be human, it doesn't look like he is. “...” “Honestly, I don't know what you are.”
“...” “There's only me... And someone else!” He looks away, as if trying to hide something.
“Oh... and who's that someone?”
“Oh! N-no, don't worry! He’s… just a friend… But it’s not important that you meet him or anything!” He brushes it off making a gesture with his hand. “Uh-um- How about we talk about you!? huh? What things do you like? Earlier, since you said no to everything, I thought you didn't like ANYTHING!” He continued talking without letting me respond. “I didn't know what to do if I ran out of ideas. I started to worry! But at least you're not one of those who spend all day shouting and threatening with a weapon in hand, ahaha...” He let out a nervous laugh.
“Um-”
“Well, you ran away screaming, yes.” He began to gesticulate widely as he complained “Like everyone-! No, not like everyone, some don't run, but those who, apart from running and screaming, attack you...! I mean...!” Something tells me he wasn't going to shut up and I was already half listening. “First they throw rocks at my head, then they insult me and run away. And I have to run after them because I can't just leave a human running around alone! No! I can't! Not in this forest! Anything could happen to them! But they never let me warn them!” He sounded tired. “And when I get them to stop running away from me, they throw things at me again and yell before demanding me to tell them where are they and how to get out of here, and when I explain it, they yell at me even more and accuse me of lying!” He turns to look at me with his hands pointing to his chest. “What reason would I have to lie?!” I don't know if he hasn't noticed or if he's ignoring the deapan I responded with. “UGH! I don't know what to do with those! But anyhow... I'm so glad we found something to do in the end!
“eh?” I snap out of my thoughts. It seems that now he is directing the conversation to me.
“The pebbles!” He sits turning his body towards me, leaving one single leg hanging from the bridge and the other resting on it. He takes out of his pocket some of the pebbles that he had been collecting with me. “I don't know why I assumed you wouldn't want to look for rocks. Maybe because you didn't want to paint them before... You left them back in the river in the end tho, I thought you would keep some.”
“Ah... I don't know. I didn't think I could take them with me.”
“You can keep some of mine!”
“No, it's okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“You suuuuure??” He insist.
“Yeees.”
He puts a pebble very close to my face “Suuuuuuuure?” Each 'u' sounding higher than the last.
“...” I push the pebble away from my face “Yeeeees.”
“mmmh... Okay! But I hope you don't regret it later when you don't have a cool rock like these and think 'Oh man, I could have a cool rock right now!'.” After a bad impression of me, he keeps the rocks in his pants. “So... Besides pebbles, what else do you like? Mm? I haven't been able to deduce much from today.”
“Don't know.”
“What do you mean you don't know!? Oh! Is it a secret?” He approaches and starts to whisper, putting his hands to the mask's mouth “I won't tell anyone, promise.”
“No. I don't know.” I looked to the side. “I can't think of anything... so suddenly.”
“ooow...” He slumps a little over the railing, looking sad.
“…” I hesitate whether to say something or not “...Drawing...”
“Mmm?!” He no longer seems sad.
“And listening to music, I guess.” “It's... all I do... most of the time.”
“Really!? Oh! I also like drawing! And music! But is that really all you do all day? Don't you do other kinds of things? Like reading! Or writting. Don't you go out for a walk or play with your friends?” I wrinkle my face at that last bit and he tilts his head in confusion.
“I don't go out.” “I have comics, but I rarely read.”
“Comics?”
“Um... They are stories but instead of narrating what happens there are drawings and only what the characters say is written.”
“...It's a book with drawings?”
“Yeah, but with a lot of drawings on each page, from start to finish.”
“WOAH.” He sounded perplexed. “That's drawing A LOT.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Ahh, I'd love to see what they look like.” He rested his arm on the railing to hold his head in his hand “Too bad I can't…”
“I didn't bring them anyway.”
“Do you normally carry them around?”
“No, it's just that I didn't bring them to the village with me, I left them at home.”
“...” “Oh!” It seems that something has clicked on him. “You are not from the village.”
“No, I'm from a more urban area. My family used to come to the village every year in the summer, but we stopped coming. Now it seems that we are trying to get back into the habit.” I sighed.
“Why did you stop coming?”
“...That's personal.”
“Oh... okay.” He let a minute of awkward silence pass. “Hey, I can bring some books that I have at home! I think you might be interes-!” He looks away from me to the sunset behind us, the sun is almost gone. “-ted...” I look at the sunset too and then at him with confusion. “...” “...oh...oh-OH, Oh-no!” He stands up abruptly causing the bridge to shake slightly. What could have he seen? “We have to move!” He extends a hand to help me up. “We have to start moving!”
I get up in a hurry on my own, ignoring his hand. “O-okay, to where?”
“Come, run!” Once again he grabs me by the arm and leads me over the bridges between the trees until we reach a tree hut. It's small and dark, it looks like a small shelter. He opens the door and enters “You'll spend the night here, stay inside, do not go out, try to hide well and don't open the windows or doors, okay? Here, there are some blankets. I'll come back later.”
“Wait wait wait! What? What do you mean you'll come back later? What's happening? Why do I have to hide-!?”
“Sssh-ssh-sh” He grabs me and covers my hand with his, his left hand resting on the back of my right hand. He begins to speak in a calmer tone, with a voice that I had not heard him use until now. “It's okay, nothing happens. I have to go, I'll come back, but I can't stay now. You hide, try to rest, I'll be back, I promise.”
“...” I take my hand away from his. “Okay.” “I'll stay, but don't take too long.” Please, I don't want to be here alone.
“Yes. I'll be back.” He affirmed one last time. I watch him run away and disappear among the trees and undergrowth. I enter the small shelter to inspect it.
*TAP TAP TAP* *PLOK* *TAP TAP FOOSSSH! *
…? A noise comes from behind me. I turn around and there's a pebble on the floor.
Okay.
I take out my phones flashlight to see better inside the house. There are what appear to be some trunks, small cabinets, and a trapdoor in the floor, It seems that there are corners and blind spots for the windows where the little moonlight that enters through the cracks cannot reach. It's freezing cold and I haven't brought my jacket. I leave the bag on the floor against the wall, I cover myself with the blanket and curl up in a ball in the most hidden corner I can find. I'm tired, I want to sleep, but I can't close my eyes.
It's been a few hours now.
I can't sleep, I simply can't.
It doesn't look like he's coming back.
*creek*
…?
*rin*
*tap tap, creek*
Sun?
“S-...” I pause before saying a word, I have the feeling I shouldn't speak. I remain silent and wait.
*tap, tap, tap, creeeeeek, tap*
*rin dirrin*
If it were Sun he would have already let me know it is him. That or he's playing a prank on me which isn't funny, but I'd better stay silent. From the shadow I look at the windows. I notice movement through the cracks, something has just passed through the wall next to me.
*dirriring dirring*
I cover myself more with the blanket, back against the wall, I stay as still as I can, I leave a gap between the blankets and the floor to see. A red glow sneaks through the cracks in the window and scans the room.
The glow is gone.
*tap, tap, rin, tap, dirring, tap, tap*
It's on the roof.
*tap, tap, tap...*
It moves again.
*rin *
It sounded on the other side of the wall.
“nghehe...”
It laughed. Why did it laugh? Whatever is on the other side of the wall just let out a laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck and all over my back rise.
Oh no.
Oh no no no no no no no no.
I have to move. I have to get out of here. I can't stay here.
*creeek*
It came from the door. It's trying to get in.
*rin*
The trapdoor.
*rin dirring*
Where was the trapdoor?
*creek creeeek*
I crawl across the floor making the minimum noise, carefully feeling the floor, looking for the edge of the door.
*tap tap ring dirring*
…!
I found it. I open it carefully. It's too high. I'm at a very high altitude, I don't know if I'll be able to go down.
*rin, creeek...*
Fuck it. I slip through the gap quietly, closing it slowly, but that doesn't stop the door from creaking. I cling to the bark of the tree-
I left my bag. If it comes in and see it it'll know for sure that I have been there-
It doesn't matter now. I have to focus on getting down from the tree without killing myself. My fingers hurt and I can't put my foot down properly because of the soles of my boots. I feel like I'm going to slip at any moment. Somehow I make it to the ground. Still attached to the tree, I look up at the house. I don't see it-
A shadow appears from behind the tree. I press myself against the tree and hold my breath. It's looking for something. When he doesn't seem to look I move to a nearby tree, he moves to another tree, I move to the next, and the next, and the next. We continue like this until I start to get further and further away from him. When I think I've lost him I start running. I hide behind a tree to catch my breath.
I slowly peek out from behind the tree.
*rin*
It sounded above me.
I don't look up, I run.
“nnghehee...” He laughs.
He gives me a few seconds advantage before coming after me. The chase begins.
I run forward as much as I can, I hear his footsteps behind me but I don't look back, there's no time for that. I hear him laughing like a madman as he moves from left to right, from one tree to another, crawling on the ground, trying to confuse me, waiting for me to make the slightest mistake to catch me.
“Ah-” I trip. As soon as I fall to the ground I get up, ripping my stockings and scraping my knees, falling again, my nerves not letting me stand up.
“Nnhehehhehe...” Asshole. He has stopped running, he approaches by walking. I try to keep as much distance as my hands and legs allow me to move. I search desperately with my hand for something on the ground to throw. Finally my hand finds something.
I throw a rock at him “AGH!”
The rock passes by him, flying one or two meters away from him. He hasn't even moved, he didn't move a single muscle to avoid it, he just watches me still from where he is. I hear the nearby *pof* of the rock falling to the ground.
“...”
“...”
I get up and run. He grabs my leg and I fall to the ground again. He won't let me get up, every time I try he throws me to the ground. I struggle, I kick, but I don't break free from his grip. He never stops laughing, he is enjoying this. He drags me closer to him, no matter how much I twists, he doesn't let go. “ACKH-!...Hhhh-hh...-hh-h...” He grabs me by the neck, red pupils stared at me, I'm looking straight into his crescent moon mask (or waning, I don't know. Do you think I care right now?). He raises his free hand and his veins begin to glow a platinum color that extends to his fingertips. The hand approaches my face, I don't know what it's going to do to me, I'm scared, I don't want to look. I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands. I wait.
…?
Nothing's happening. It stopped. Why?
“Mun, nïe.” I hear Sun's voice. I open my hands a little to see what's going on. Indeed, it is Sun, several meters away from us... He looks exhausted. The one with the moon mask stares at him for a moment, until he decides to look at me again while bringing his glowing veiny hand closer. “¡Mun!” The Moonman looks at Sun again “Fehreh.” He seems to speak another language, I don't understand what he says.
“...” “Nïe” For the first time I hear him say something else besides laughing. Even though I can't understand him.
“Fïer pehgïer.” Sun responds.
“...” Moonman remains silent again.
“Bïelïe óubseh góuh...” Sun continues.
“Móu txehb móunsuvïe.” The Moon responds.
“Lïe bóu ¿Sóundïe mïesugïeb fehreh nïe txehtehrlïe?”
The air feels tense. Probably because of the hand grabbing my neck.
“¿Zkaóu fuóunbehb txehtóur tkaehnvïe nïe bóueh mehb zkaóu ïesreh rehuh óunsóurrehveh óun leh suóurreh?” Longest sentence I've heard him say so far.
“...” “Fïer óubseh góuh.” “...” “Vóuyehmóu óuntehrdehrmóu vóu óulleh” Sun takes a step forward “Nïe suóunóu fïer zkaóu ehtehkehr ehbu” Another step forward “Nïe sóunóumïeb fïer zkaóu txehtóurlóub... óubsïe” Another step “Óullïeb bïelïe óubsehn... fóurvuvïeb.”
“...” There's no response from the moon man.
“Behkehb tïemïe óub óubïe.”
“...”
The hand that grabbed my neck now grabs my shirt and yanks it. I grab his wrist as he pulls me to my feet and drags me to Sun, making me stumble. He throws me against him. Sun catches me before I fall over.
“Ska óubpkaóurhïe óub óun gehnïe.” The moon says something as he walks past. Sun puts a hand on his shoulder before letting him go, there's a pause between the two. The Moonman disappears into the trees. Wind and leaves are heard passing by.
He's gone. I feel dizzy. I fall down.
A faint light begins to seep through the cracks, illuminating enough to wake me up and make me open my eyes, I look around. I see my bag propped against the wall. I'm at the shelter where Sun left me.
My body aches, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open, it feels like I've been sleeping on the hard floor. No, wait, there are some blankets underneath me... It's still too hard to sleep well, either that or as I said, it shouldn't help me at all that everything hurts. After a while of staring at the ceiling I try to sit up. I emphasize trying. With every slight effort a pained moan escapes me.
“Oof...” Hurts.
*creek, tap tap tap tap*
Those wood creaks bring back bad memories from last night (which by the way, I'm alive, wow, I just realized), I can't help but cringe at every noise, I hear footsteps approaching, I try to move but the stinging pain prevents me from it.
*creek... *
The door opens.
Triangular shapes appear through the door followed by orange earth tones. “…Oh…!” “Early bird!” Thank god it's Sun and not the other one, or something worse “I didn't expect you up this early!” He says laughingly.
“ah?”
“How are you feeling?” He walks in. When he sets foot inside I lean back, towards the wall. “...” I don't really know why I did that. Sun stands at the door showing confusion with his usual head tilt. “...Arrr...re you okay, Fern?”
“...” I became tense suddenly. I really don't know still if I can trust him? He hasn't done anything to me yet but that doesn't mean that I can trust him. I don't know if he plans to do something with me like whatever that other one, the moon one, was going to do last night. “...ehh...hhh...h...” I can't get a word out, I'm afraid to ask.
“Mm?”
“...” I don't know what to say to him. My eyes go somewhere else.
He enters further into the house, ignoring that I keep my distance from him, leaves a bag he was carrying on the floor and begins to open the windows, letting in the little light of the dawn that is just beginning. He kneels on the floor in front of me with the bag. “Are you hungry?” He opens the bag and takes out an apple “Do you like apples?”
“...”
“No?”
“...”
“Um... I also brought berries... (It's what I had on hand coming here) There are... different types, you can choose” He brings the bag closer to me. I move further away. “uhhh...”
“...” I want to leave.
“You don't like them either...?”
“...” I don't want to eat. I want to leave.
“...”
“*snif... *”
“u-um...!”
“...*snif* *sob*...” I started crying out of nowhere.
“Ahhh...! D-do- don't cry! Ah-I-Um- Ca-can go find other things you might like-!”
I felt ashamed for crying and I put my hands to my face trying to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. “*hic, sniff, snif *” I looked away in an attempt to cover my face. I ended up looking at the floor, letting my hair act as a curtain.
“I can go in a moment!” Sun was already getting up.
“...w-want to leave...” I managed to get a murmur out.
“...W-what? Um...”
“...” *hic, hic *
“O-okay, um... If you aren't hungry... -we can do something else- uh- we can go look for rocks like yesterday in the river!”
“...” I don't want to do anything “...want to leave...”
“O-or we can do something else! Ah-bah-b-b-b- W-won't you like to go draw??! Somewhere, some landscape?! Wherever you want! We can draw together! If you prefer we can look for animals instead of landscapes!”
“...leave...want to...go... *hic, snif *”
“¡D-don't n- uh! ¡L-let's... um- let's not- uh!” He no longer knew how to order his words “H-hey, ¿Why don't we go to-?” He extends his hand towards my arm.
“I want to go home...”
He stops before touching me and removes his hand. “...” “...home?” There is a pause. He remains silent and unmoving. He finally speaks “Do you want…?” His tone became more serious.
“...”
“...to... go see the portal?” I look up slightly, I can't see through the tears and the fogged lenses of my glasses.
“...” I nod my head.
We didn't walk far until the red began to become visible. He brought me back to the portal. The same plain of red leaves and stone arch in the center of it all, as yesterday.
Sun has been quiet the entire time.
He advances towards the portal and stands facing it. He turns. “Come.” He extends his hand towards me. “You can pass through.”
“...”
I advance towards the portal. I stop before crossing. If it doesn't take me back home, what do I do? I don't want to stay.
A breeze begins to come out of the portal. The breeze turns to wind, the leaves rise, they pass through us. It's the same thing that happened yesterday when I went to cross. I turn to face Sun. Motionless, he looks back at me, the leaves pause in the air for a second as if time has stopped, the wind changes. From where the wind and leaves came now they come in, they push me towards the portal. I finally cross it.
Am I in the forest I know? I turn to look at Sun who stayed behind in the portal. “...Sun?” He's not there. I look around. He's not here. I've already crossed the portal, he must have left.
I notice a sudden draft pass by me. It's soft, like someone walking past you. I turn towards the forest, I have to start moving, I don't want to be here another minute.
...The air current that I noticed has lifted some leaves, they reach the trees, between them the wind does something strange, it forms a transparent silhouette. It looks like Sun, I can barely see him but I could swear it's him. The wind figure raises its hand and makes a gesture, it wants me to follow it. When I approach it turns around and walks into the forest, leaving a trail of leaves behind it. I follow the trail of the air current. Sometimes it stops to look at me, making sure I'm still following it. The red-leafed trees and the paintings disappear from view the farther we go. We crossed the forest until we arrived at the entrance of the town, near my house. There is no one on the street. If I walked into the house and pretended nothing had happened, officially no one would have noticed my absence.
I'm not one hundred percent sure if the wind figure that guided me is Sun or not, but I should at least thank him for bringing me back.
The air current has dissipated before I turn around. I look around, there's no one.
I enter the house, go up to my room and throw the bag on the floor. I go to the bathroom to wash. …I feel something strange in my hands but I couldn't say what. Doesn't matter. I change my clothes and get into bed, the tiredness of the previous night makes my body succumb immediately and I fall asleep instantly.
“ah...!” I wake up with my lungs begging for air. I need a moment to calm my breathing. I look at the clock without lifting my head from the pillow.
It is 12 midday. I rub my eyes and from my eyes I move to my face. I'm still tired. My body still aches. I stare at the ceiling.
My bag. I reach out to pick it up from the floor, making strange positions so as not to get out of bed.
I open it and search in the pockets. The bell. I put the bell to my ear. “...” I shake it.
*rin, diring diring*
“...”
I open it.
It's empty.
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solarwonux · 7 months ago
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Business Proposal || knj (9/?)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.
Rating: mature, 18+
w.c: 8.0
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!
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10 Years Ago
Things were finally looking up.
“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 
You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 
Maybe things weren't really looking up. 
“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 
He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 
Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 
It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 
The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.
You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 
Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 
“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 
Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 
In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 
Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 
“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 
“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 
“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 
“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.
You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 
Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 
You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 
Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.
“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.
Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 
“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 
You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.
Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 
Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 
He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 
There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 
During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 
Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.
He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 
You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.
“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 
If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 
“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 
Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 
You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 
“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 
You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 
“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 
Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–
“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 
“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 
If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 
Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 
You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 
“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 
Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 
“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 
Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 
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Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 
Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.
Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.
His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 
You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 
One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 
When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 
A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.
It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 
It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 
“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 
Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 
You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 
This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 
A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 
“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 
With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 
At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 
“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 
He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 
His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 
For what? 
You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 
“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 
For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 
When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 
Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 
Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 
“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 
He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 
Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 
He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 
As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 
With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.
You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 
He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 
The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 
Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 
He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 
 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.
“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 
Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 
Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 
Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 
He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 
“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.
“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 
You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 
He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 
“Who?” 
“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.
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Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 
Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 
He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 
He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 
For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 
Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 
He cares. 
In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 
He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 
So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 
Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 
He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 
You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 
You're his girlfriend now. 
He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 
“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 
You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 
He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 
“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 
His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 
“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 
He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 
Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 
You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 
He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 
It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.
Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 
Your big “what if.” 
Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 
“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 
“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 
You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 
The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 
He could never wait. And he never did. 
He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.
He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 
“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 
“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 
You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 
Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 
“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 
“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 
You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 
“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 
You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 
The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 
Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 
Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 
“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 
He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 
“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.
He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 
You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.
Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 
“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”
You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 
You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 
You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 
“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 
“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 
“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 
“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 
“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 
You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 
So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 
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“You’re late.”
Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 
You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”
“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 
You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 
“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”
Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 
Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 
You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 
It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 
Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 
“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 
You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 
“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 
“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 
“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.
“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”
Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 
“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 
Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 
The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 
“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 
Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 
If only it were that easy. 
“I’d love to but he never has time.” 
“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 
“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 
“No, I’m not busy now.” 
You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.
All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 
“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 
You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.
“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 
“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 
You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 
Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 
You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 
“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 
“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 
The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 
“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 
Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 
“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 
You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 
He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 
You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 
He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 
“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 
His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  
You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 
Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 
“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”
Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 
“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 
“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 
“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 
He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 
Namjoon is happy. 
His friends are happy. 
Things in his life were finally looking up. 
“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 
You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 
Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.
He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 
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a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!
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