#already put in the courses I plan to follow (one from previous year and the language practice sessions from the foreign langs dept lol)

[misskamelie]

Girl's so out of her mind and tired of life that the only thing that brings her a minimum amount of joy is writing down a hypothetical timetable for the next few months/academic year

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | One

— Friendly Banter

Series summary: The teasing, fleeting touches became much more on the night Carlos won, the sexual tension between you two reached a breaking point. Perhaps it was that night, or the many nights that followed, but you were pregnant with his child, putting you in a difficult situation.

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut yet

wc: 2.9k

Note: here it is, the first chapter of many more to come. lemme know what you think, feedback is always appreciated.

You had caught the eye of a certain Ferrari driver from the moment you joined the team. He always looked at you in fascination, having the urge to find a way to figure you out but that's all it was for the longest time. Until it wasn't.

Carlos Sainz vividly remembers the first time he set his eyes on you. He was on his way to leave the headquarters in Maranello while you were on your way inside. Carlos' gaze was watchful, almost heavy with judgment as you hurried in through the doors with more items in your arms than you should've been able to carry.

He almost stopped you to ask who you were, but he noticed the badge clipped onto your jeans, media personnel. You had already passed him before he could read your name, and shook his head knowing that your name was the more important detail compared to your role.

You hadn't noticed him that day, but he noticed you.

He didn't see you again until the new season came around, having almost forgotten about your brief encounter at the end of the previous year. He had to do a double take once he saw you setting up the cameras for some content he was supposed to record along with his teammate.

It was a simple video that required the drivers to answer a few questions sent in by their fans, something that should've been easy since they've done it before. But he couldn't focus on anything but you. Given that you were the ones asking the questions, reading them off the short stack of cards you had in your hand, he wasn't outed for being distracted.

Knowing the drivers still had a busy day ahead of them, you began packing up the items once the video was filmed. Keeping your eyes locked on the task, you expected the drivers to be led away by their PR managers, so you were surely startled once you heard a voice acknowledging you.

Carlos stayed back, and roaming your gaze for a split second behind him, Charles had left. You knew who he was of course, after all you followed the sport for many years before you were given the opportunity to work for one of the teams.

"I don't think we properly met, I'm Carlos." He extended his hand out and you gladly accepted, shaking it while introducing yourself. You found it sweet that despite being one of the two faces of the team, he still introduced himself like you didn't know who he was.

As a junior media employee who was still relatively new to the team, you were informed in advance that you would rarely be interacting with the drivers.

So it wasn't surprising that while working in the same team, you rarely saw Carlos in person. Working under Silvia—the head of communications—you would usually be the one tasked to edit the challenge videos, creating enough content from various footage to keep the fans engaged. The few times you did see him in person was to conduct media challenges that the team planned every once in a while to give the fans a chance to know the drivers underneath their helmets.

As the season went on, you found that you were indeed given the wrong information; you did in fact meet the drivers again and again. You were given many opportunities to travel with the team, and it would've been absurd if you denied those opportunities—not that you had a choice since you were needed at almost every race.

You were glad to experience the thrill of Formula 1 from the front row seats, able to watch all the sessions in the weekend itself but also be a part of the journey with the drivers that not many people get to see.

It was inevitable to befriend many people along the way, especially with their welcoming nature despite some news outlets suggesting otherwise. Formula 1 could be considered as one giant family that obviously had issues every once in a while but no one outside of the sport could relate to them like each other. Especially since it was described like a traveling circus by a few drivers.

While you had befriended many other employees whether it was within your team or others, you also spoke to the other eighteen drivers often.

But no other driver invaded your thoughts like Carlos did.

You didn't know if you were overthinking it all, but you believed that Carlos was a tad bit too friendly compared to Charles or even any other driver for that matter.

Whether it was a compliment that left you a blushing mess, a lingering look that followed you until you left the room, or even a small graze of his fingers against your back while crossing your path, you couldn't think of anyone but him lately.

You heard a Monégasque accent calling your name and you slowed your pace, allowing him to catch up to you as you greeted without needing to look to see who it was, "Charles"

"Here, it's still hot," he was holding two disposable cups of coffee in his hands, extending one towards you.

You gestured to your own hands, carrying one too many things again.

He sighed, "I still don't know how you do that." He stopped walking as he neared a surface to put down the cups. "Here, give it to me," he spoke but didn't let you make a decision as he grabbed the various folders, a clipboard, and a tablet from your hands. You were still holding on to a tripod and a camera but he freed up one of your hands so you could hold the cup.

"I will have to let you know, that tablet you're holding, is very valuable to the team," you stated, mainly in a joking manner because you knew he wouldn't do anything to it.

"Oh is it now? What's on it?" Charles asked once you resumed walking, this time sipping on your coffee before answering his question. "First, perfect," you hummed, gesturing towards the cup. "Second, it has all the schedules for meetings, interviews, and everything that you or Carlos could possibly need a reminder for during the weekend."

He gasped, almost offended, "I do not need reminders for anything during the weekend, not like Carlos does."

Despite how it may seem, your role didn't entail being a driver's assistant. In fact your job was to manage a few social media accounts and create content that included the drivers as much as possible but every now and then you also helped the company keep the public images of the drivers reputable.

Lately, Carlos had been finding reasons to talk to you, and most of that time would be spent reviewing his schedule multiple times throughout the day.

"He can be a little forgetful sometimes," you commented but Charles shook his head.

"A little? He needed you to remind him what time the race was."

You grimaced, knowing Charles was correct. "Well, you're his teammate so you know him better than I do."

"Yeah, I guess I'll ask him, thanks for the coffee," Charles stated as you two entered a meeting room. There were still fifteen minutes before it started, but you preferred to use that time so you could prepare yourself for all the notetaking it usually required. Since you were still a fairly new employee, you wanted to absorb all the information like a sponge.

Confused, you responded back, "you're the one who got the coffee."

He placed the items he was holding on the table, then noticing the time on his watch, a brief gasp overtaking his expression. "Thanks for the company then, I'll see you later," he playfully winked like he always did before leaving the room.

Moments later, a knock distracts you from reviewing the previous notes and stats from the last meeting. Thinking it was Charles, you ask, "did you forget somet- oh, Carlos."

"Are you busy?" He asks as he leans his forearms on the back of a chair. Shaking your head you respond, "not really, what's up?"

"I forget how crazy the crowds can get outside, so can I stay here for a few minutes?" You smile, "of course you can, come sit." He rolled a chair out and sighed in relief after finally getting off his feet.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the moments of silence in his hectic life. It didn't last long as you hummed a random tune which you usually did while working. It was so faint but since it was completely silent otherwise, Carlos' ears perked up as he heard it.

Instead of looking for the moments of silence he thought he needed earlier to even do a simple task as breathing, Carlos leaned forward with his usual watchful gaze focused on you. "Are you planning on more ways for us to make a fool out of ourselves?" He asked.

You chuckled, "I would never do that." Carlos gave you a look that indicated he didn't believe you.

"The last challenge was planned by you, no?" He countered and when you sheepishly smiled, he knew he was correct.

"You know, Charles is right," you spoke after a few moments of silence.

"How so?" He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head for a moment that almost caused you to lose track of your thoughts. You've gotten better at keeping yourself calm and collected around Carlos lately, but you still took a little moment to appreciate how his muscles flexed in the full sleeved shirt he wore.

"There's a team debrief happening in about five minutes where you're needed, and it's a bit of a walk so I'm wondering if you're gonna reach in time." To confirm your words, he glanced at his watch, raising his eyebrows when he realized you were spot on.

"You know my schedule so well now," he couldn't help but comment, chuckling as he did so.

"Only because you forget it," you retaliated.

"Maybe I do that on purpose," he stood up, once again stretching to the point where the hem of his shirt raised a bit, revealing a sliver of skin that your gaze immediately shifted to. While you might've gotten better, you still needed a bit more practice every now and then. Carlos chuckled when you didn't have a response right away, knowing you were distracted but he didn't feel the need to expose you just yet.

As he pulled his shirt down, your eyes snapped to his, finally coming up with a response "and almost get me fired for making you late?"

He shrugged, "maybe." You knew he would never do such a thing that would jeopardize your job, so you shrugged off his comment.

"Go now, Sainz" you urged, waving your hand to emphasize your point.

"I'm going, I'm going, relax, cariño." You could hear his laugh as he left the room, and you didn't focus on the papers in front of you until his footsteps had faded away.

It was just friendly banter, you reminded yourself even after hearing the nickname he gave you. Sometimes your conversations were borderline flirtatious, but it was still fine. Until it wasn't.

As the year progressed further, you were no longer just an employee with a career in motorsport; you were a member of the team that celebrated each high while consoling and sticking together during the lows.

While your job wasn't directly connected to the race, nor could you help in changing the outcome like the mechanics and engineers could, you helped uplift the mood in the room on multiple occasions.

Which is why when Carlos stood on the top step of the podium, claiming his first place trophy that would eventually become a part of a larger collection, you felt like you won.

The spray of champagne reached the crowd of his team waiting below the podium. A laugh bubbled up your throat as Carlos tried to aim the spill of the drink in the team principal's mouth standing on the floor a few feet away from you.

A proud smile grew on your face as you watched the drivers and a representative from your team that collected the constructors trophy gathered together on the top step to take a photo.

The celebrations continued in the team garage, since both drivers made it on the podium. The energy buzzing through each member was noticeable, knowing that this win would be celebrated until the next. After the team photo was taken, the champagne popped once again.

A few people were able to get away from becoming soaked, others were being targeted. Charles managed to slip away, but Carlos couldn't. He happily accepted the spray, soaking his race suit further after the podium.

His eyes however, darted across the crowd and landed on you. Standing just out of reach of the champagne shenanigans but still close enough to celebrate, Carlos decided to pull you even closer.

Grabbing the bottle from the nearest person, he covered the top and shook it. Releasing his thumb, he let the fizzy drink spray out, directing it at you this time. "Carlos!" You shrieked, but laughing nonetheless.

Once satisfied, he took a sip from the bottle, his gaze fixed on you as yours moved down to his neck, watching his Adam's apple bob while he swallowed. Passing the bottle to you, you moistened your lips before tipping it up and sipping the cool champagne.

His attention was diverted as Charles had found another bottle of champagne, deciding to drench his teammate even further after the celebrations began to die down. You smiled as Carlos tried to run away, dodging the alcohol, but it quickly dropped once he used you as a shield.

"Oh, no, no, no," you held your hand out at Charles who smiled mischievously, stopping in his tracks right in front of you.

"You are a part of the team," he commented, and you almost ignored his words as you felt Carlos' hands rest on your waist from behind, feeling his breath on your neck.

The heat of your thoughts was ruined when Charles decided to rain champagne down on you, cooling you off instantly. "Charles," you groaned, knowing that it would be an excruciatingly long process to wash all the champagne out of your hair, especially if it began to dry soon.

The team began to disperse, rightfully so as everyone wanted to change out of their champagne soaked clothes, you included. Trying to wring out as much liquid as you could, you muttered a curse under your breath. This was the first time you ever experienced a win like today.

Speaking of, the winner of the race was standing off to the side, shirtless. Carlos had removed his fireproof top but still had his race suit zipped down to his waist and placed a cap on his head backwards to keep his hair out of his face.

You parted your lips and watched his back muscles flex as he moved around, then hastily looked away as he turned. You kept wringing your shirt as he moved past you, and despite the fact that there was enough space for him to pass you without touching you, his fingertips brushed over your back, down to your waist. He lingered on your hip for too long, but he didn't say anything, only smiled when you inhaled deeply.

You had returned to your hotel room and immediately rushed towards the shower. The champagne from earlier had dried, creating an unpleasant sensation as a layer of tackiness remained behind. Washing away all the sweat and champagne, you sighed in relief, standing underneath the shower for a few extra minutes to release all the soreness in your muscles.

You still felt the buzzing excitement of the day running through your veins as you dried and dressed yourself, but you were also exhausted, ready to climb into bed and drift away into the safety of your dreams.

That plan was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door. Pulling your shirt over your body, you peeked through the peephole, smiling when you saw him standing on the other side.

"Oh hello, don't tell me you forgot your room number," you greeted Carlos as you opened the door.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he was transfixed by the sight of your hair, still wet from your shower, dripping down to your shirt beginning to cling to your body.

"I think I did, tell me you don't remember it either," his voice dropped an octave, and his stare was no longer calculating, but rather enticingly seductive.

"And why would I do that?" You almost whispered, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

He stepped forward, leaning one arm on the doorframe while his gaze glanced over you to briefly look inside the room. "I'm sure yours is big enough for two people."

The corner of your lip turned up at his words, knowing it was just a ploy to let him in. The realization that he desired you just as much as you had grown to want him dawned on you as you stared at him standing in front of you.

Trapping your lip between your teeth for a moment, instantly attracting Carlos' gaze towards them, you nodded.

"Let's check," you stepped back, pulling him inside by the collar of his shirt.

——

Taglist is open!! Lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

@xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @gay-hoes-blog @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @fwhore1 @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @khaylin27 @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @teamnovalak @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport

[latenightdaydreams]

Eldritch!König X Princess! Reader

The reader is a stubborn princess with a childish personality, she is considered a treasure by the king, loved and pampered, however because she was imprisoned in the castle for too long and learned too many royal rules and rituals, she decided to escape to leave the castle and on her journey of discovery, she accidentally strayed into the forbidden sea of the kingdom... if you don't mind, there is rape

thank you for doing my previous requests,i always follow your posts everyday,i love the way you write your fanfics,by the way,can you post your fanfics at 6am or 6pm?the time hook in asia and other continents are different,so it will be difficult to adjust the time to receive your post notifications,thanks!!!🥰😍🫂🤲😗😙

Of course! I've been trying to post later after reading this and I appreciate your recommendation!

Eldritch!König x Princess (fem)

MDNI🔞

🚫!Trigger Warning!🚫

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, creature, tentacles, non-con, virginity loss

1.6k word count

👸

.

.

Being the eldest daughter to the King means a lot of responsibilities are placed on your shoulders, one day this will all be yours. The sad thing is that you want none of it. You’d love to be free, like the children in the town outside the castle walls.

Every day is consumed with boring lessons and practice. While your body may be here, your mind wanders often to what lies beyond your gilded cage. The King is a kind but overprotective man. He tells you continuously about a scary world filled with evil, yet all you can find is magic in the stories you’re told.

Today is like every other day. While sitting at the piano, you mindlessly press on keys as you stare out the open windows. It is a beautiful and bright day; the sound of the birds carrying through the light breeze makes you crave only a moment outside. You smash your hands down on the keys with annoyance. It’s as if the world is teasing you.

The staff around looks at your out the corner of their eyes, rolling them. You often act out as if you’re a child, yet you’re in your twenties already. What more should they expect from such a spoiled brat? They fear the day your queen; you’re nowhere near ready for that type of responsibilities.

Lucky for them, they won’t have to worry about that. You don’t plan on being here for much longer. Over the last few months, you’ve been putting together an escape plan. Armed with the knowledge of lore spoken and countless hours of studying; you’re ready to make a new path for yourself. The thought of being a Queen has never appealed to you, you’ve always dreamed of living like a daring adventurer. Someone not bound to the confines of their overbearing parents.

You wander down into the kitchen to see a room of busy bee workers preparing dinner. Some look at you, but choose to ignore you as to not get wrapped up into any of your wild antics. Walking over to a bowls of freshly picked blueberries, you grab a handful and twirls innocently towards the door. As you scan the room, you notice that no one is looking at you. Perfect.

The door opens with a bit of weight applied. You quickly slip out the door without anyone noticing. The kitchen faces the woods; with only a bag with money and some food you begin your new journey.

Your feet carry you eagerly through the brush and into the woods; your escape is almost too easy. For a moment you turn to look at the castle for one last time, letting yourself commit the view to memory. You don’t know when you’ll be back again and it’s bitter sweet. Once you feel as if you’re ready to move on, you turn with no intentions of running back a scared little girl.

Hours of walking tire you quickly. You never figured that the ground might be difficult to walk on, meaning you haven’t made it as far as you planned to before sun down. Off in the distance you can hear the sound of waves crashing, piquing your interest. All these years and you’ve never seen the ocean before, it’s always been a dream.

The sun setting causes a stunning golden hue to cover the water, making it feel as if you’ve just stumbled into heaven on earth. You quickly remove your shoes, eager to feel the sand between your toes. As you rush forward, the warm sand is relaxing. The small worry that lingered in the back of your mind is completely forgotten as you become entranced by the crashing waves.

You approach the shore line allowing the cool water to wash over your feet. It’s such a welcoming feeling, it’s impossible to believe that your father said this world is evil. How can it be evil when such beauty exists? You sit, your dress gets wet but you don’t care. Minutes pass as the sun continues to set. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something poke out of the water.

König sees you; you’re new. His eyes drift over the royal purple dress that you’re wearing. A princess? In this part of the world? How did you ever get here? Either way, he wasn’t going to complain. It’s as if the universe just hand delivered a new toy to him. He watches you curiously as you simply…enjoy the view.

You lay back, closing your eyes with a big smile on your face. Day one of freedom and you’re already confident that you’ve made the right decision. Then, you feel the presence of something- someone- approaching you. When you open your eyes, you see a large man looking down at you. His eyes a pale blue, body nude other than a piece of fabric covering his face. From underneath the fabric, eight large purple toned tentacles move about.

There is a moment of just staring at him with a slack jaw. He’s a massive eight feet tall, making the way he looms over your much smaller body that much more intimidating. You watch as his eyes trail over your dress; he somehow makes you feel exposed while fully clothed.

“Hello…” You speak in a timid tone.

“Hallo…Prinzessin.��� His voice is low and gravely.

“Y- you know who I am?”

“Ja. You’re Princess y/n.” He begins to walk around you, inspecting you.

“I am…who are you?”

“König. You’ve wandered into my kingdom, Prinzessin. Did you know that?” He kneels and looks into your eyes as you sit up, feeling uncomfortable with him. “People don’t usually come here.”

“Why?” Your voice shakes slightly.

“Because of me.”

For a moment you linger, staring up at him. Your stomach churns and you feel sick. He smells of the ocean and it’s very unpleasant. The alarm going off in your line is telling you to get up and run; that you’re in danger. You decide to try and just push that feeling down.

“Wh- why is that?”

König can smell the fear emanating off of you. A small band of sweat forms around your hairline from the warm day and the heavy dress overheating your body. A small drop drips down the side of your face, traveling over your delicate features.

“You’re wearing far too many layers.” One of his thick tentacles slowly wraps around your ankle, slipping up underneath the hem of your long dress.

That is what triggers panic within you. You quickly jump up, but his tentacle tightens its grip and pulls you back down. Your face smashes into the sand, cutting your lip from the impact. The sand slips through your fingers as you grab at it, trying to get away.

König grabs your arms and turns you around, laying you on your back. As you sit up to hit him, he grabs your arms and slams you back down. A loud laugh leaves him, he wasn’t expecting such a delicate little thing to be so feisty.

“Where do you think you’re off to? You’re in my world now, Prinzessin.”

“Get off of me!” You scream.

“I’ve been looking for a queen. A warm body for my offspring to grow in.”

König’s slimy tentacles come up and wrap around your wrist, pinning you to the ground as you squirm. His massive weight rests on your legs as he begins to slip the fabric that covers you up, exposing a sweet little bush covering your precious center. A low hum rumbles from his chest as his pale eyes meet yours.

The stomach churning feeling of his appendages slithering up your leg makes you jerk to the side but you can’t move. König is much bigger and much stronger than you; it would be a useless waste of energy. You can feel the tip slip back and forth, parting your folds.

“You can’t do this to me! I’m the princess!”

“You’re no one here.”

König shuts you up with a hand over your mouth as his tentacles move to hold you down and your legs apart for him. Tears stream down your face as you realize that no matter how much you scream, there is no one here that can help you. His unsettling gaze lingers on yours as he moves his erection closer to you.

Your muffled cries are drowned out but the loud sound of König’s moan as he presses the tip of his leaking cock against your pure cunt. A virgin princess, exactly what the king deserves. A stinging pain travels throughout your body as he struggles to press his girthy 13 inch cock into you.  

“Mein Gott, you’re so small. I’m going to break you.” He chuckles as his hips buck forward.

The walls of your vagina feel gummy as they wrap tightly around him. You’re like the perfect little glove, little sex toy for him. He pulls his hips back and repeatedly continues the assault on your defenseless smaller body. Unable to do anything, you just lie there and take it.

“Does daddy know where you are?” He mocks in a low gruff voice as he thrust at a merciless speed, not allowing you to catch your breath.

“M-mm” You mumble and shake your head, his hands still on your mouth not allowing you to speak.

“Stupid…little…brat.” König manages the words between each thrust. His hands move to your legs, pulling them back so he can angle himself deeper into you, trying to shove more of himself into you. Your pained pathetic mewls boom out across the empty beach.

Back at the castle there is panic after hours without any sight of you. Your father went to your room to see a note placed on your bed. In a hurry he reads it, tears streaming down his face as he reads your final goodbye to him. He is torn between sending every knight to find you and just leaving you to be the woman you’ve dreamt of becoming. Little does he know you’ve only doomed yourself to the life of being bred.

[corvidcrossbow]

Since I made a post about Mother's Day w/ Daryl, I gotta make a Father's Day one too.

For obvious reasons, he didn't like Father's Day (me neither Daryl). It felt insulting to see people celebrating their dads, felt so forced and unfair, stupid even. How come other people got to have fathers who were there for them and cared for them while he didn't? What made him undeserving of that? (Mother's Day was already hard enough when he was young, sitting in class and nearly trembling from how hard he was straining himself to not cry while those around him made cards and talked about their plans for the weekend with their moms) So he tried to push the existence of the holiday out of his mind.

Fatherhood was never something he pictured. Even when the hypothetical idea of kids crossed his mind, he was sure it would never be plausible: he'd just follow footsteps and end up some doped up abusive deadbeat as well. Although he never pictured an apocalypse with the undead either, and that pushed the idea of fatherhood even further into a realm of impossibility.

So both those happening, and someone as perfect as you being directly involved in it, was leagues outside his imagination.

The first Father's Day after your child was born was rough. He enjoyed how the collapse of society made people lose track of the dates, too occupied with survival to care about minor things like this. But with the stability Alexandria provided, over time celebrations reintegrated into routines, this included, and he was not fond of the reminder.

He didn't mention the day at all leading up to it, or of, continuing his ignorance and hoping it'd slip your mind. He knew it wouldn't: you were too attentive and appreciative of him to miss any excuse to celebrate and congratulate him no matter the context.

But you threaded lightly, knowing it'd be touchy and let most the day pass by as any other would, just being extra sweet on him. You never wished him a ‘Happy Father's Day’, instead when you were going to bed that night thanking him for being a father, for everything he did for you and your daughter and how good he was at it.

He ended up just breaking down, falling apart in your hold and attempting to bury himself in you the same way he tried to bury so much else.

The next couple years were largely similar; little acknowledgement to the day, but extra acknowledgements to him. It was your daughter that started to make it more distinctive. A little older now, she saw the other kids in the community making little gifts and cards for their fathers the same way they did for mothers on the respective day. Even those who didn't have dads made them in memoriam.

So of course she did it too, she loved her daddy and did those things all the time anyway. Why not do it when it's even more special? She didn't even tell you about it, secretly assembling it all herself.

You shared Daryl's surprise when she presented her crafts, repeatedly saying the token phrase you'd held off from using. He was mostly frozen for a moment, trying to just see her and this singular day rather than previous decades of Father's Day's that came before, all negatively tinted and crossed out from his personal calendar.

He accepted it all, and her innocent recognition of the holiday's purpose. Though the urge flared up in some part of him, he couldn't shut her down. She meant well, and wasn't to blame for his rocky relationship with the day and his own father. He wouldn't create reason for her to despise the holiday too, and how could be cold to the human embodiment of sunshine while her toothy smile was beaming at him?

He put her to bed that evening, spending an extra while stroking her hair and admiring how peaceful she looked while sleeping. Despite the state of the world, she had the privilege to not only sleep, but feel safe while doing so. And he's what allowed that; gave her that.

She got to feel safe from all the horrors he'd seen: the walkers, blood, guts, violence, death, immorality, all the disturbing things about life that were amplified by the apocalypse.

But more importantly, she felt safe with him.

She got to excitedly jump on him while he was still asleep in the morning, roll around and shake him till he finally got up. She got to play with him in the dirt while out in the yard, or sit him down with jewelry and accessories surrounded by stuffed animals and toy dinnerware. She got to chase him around and bombard him with curious questions and learn everything she could from him.

She got to make messes and break things, make mistakes, and know he'd always help her clean or fix them.

She got to show her emotions and be a kid and cry, and know he would always hold and soothe her, wipe away her tears and do anything to make sure she was okay.

And she never knew a different response. She never knew the yelling or insults, the degradation, the mockery, the beatings and burnings and whippings. She got to fall asleep by her father's side, lulled to rest by his comforting voice, be in the most vulnerable state a person could be, and know that the last thing he would ever do was hurt her; the idea – the worry – of him hurting her did not exist in her mind.

Daryl'd crumbled to tears by the time he returned to you that night, collapsing into your arms the way he did every time the reality of being a parent hit him. He would never truly understand how he got to this point in life, how every unfathomable thing – good and bad – had genuinely occurred and this is what was real.

From the instant you found out you were pregnant, he'd promised you, promised himself, and promised his child he would always be the father he'd wanted, that he'd deserved, that his kid deserved and that every child deserves. He healed his own childhood by assuring his daughter'd have a good one, and that he'd be regarded as a good part of it.

She made Father's Day something that could actually be ‘happy’ for him.

The daddy issues hit a little too hard while writing this

I fr don't know where the last week of my life went I just remember watching Lost 🗿

[alienpossession]

After a very demanding workout session and having several hours to spend before his date, Dean decided to slide into his Instagram and treated his close friends with some personal Q&A sesh

But, all the close friend and Dean himself are not necessarily of this world, to put it simply. Hence, the question that started to pile up might not sound like a series of question that you would ask in a normal human conversation

"How can you end up in his body? What's the trick? My host is a decent-sized jock and the battle to gain control over his body was crazy tough, cannot imagine yours,"

I just followed the manual, you know. Caught them off-guard and ensure that they are tired. He fell asleep inside this personal sauna after a grueling workout. Add the fact that he was cutting to prep himself for a bodybuilding competition, well, that's a cocktail for success to tame a beastly jock this size

"Is the sexual stamina better compared to your previous host, noting the size differences 😜😜"

LOL, sorry for the disappointment back then, Gustavo. There's not a lot of people that can withstand your sexual prowess anyway, but I'm definitely the top if we are ever hooking up again

"How do you handle the first 24 hours? The crash after all his memory become accessible must've been out of this world!"

Messed my bed like a baby, but it's cum and sweat instead of piss HAHAH. Yeah, crazy shit, dude is a horny, power-hungry muscle beast

"So, have you converted his significant others? Or do you plan to just mindfuck them later so they will be working as indentured labor?"

Nope, not yet. He lived on his own anyway so we gotta wait for the 4th of July break for it to happen. But the girlfriend already fell though, bitch never stood a chance once I plugged her throat with this monster, she was a sobbing flailing mess when mini-mes swarmed her throat and entire body. Now I told her to help out on slowly infecting my friends. Gotta do it subtly though, no reason actually, just love to play with those oblivious human

"Favorite thing to do as human, aside from sex obviously,"

To be honest, partying. It's just so nice being a 6'6", 225 lbs mass of a presence in a dark, packed club or even festival grounds with great music. I always have party or at least a night out inside my calendar for most of the week, such a blast. And of course, sex also involved to really spice things up, but honestly I don't mind if there's any sex or not as long as the party is lit

And Dean keep on answering all sort of other questions, thinking that his identity as a converted alien puppet remain hidden due to the close friends feature. But his little brother, a 21 years old sophomore living 300 miles away from him, took screenshot of every single close friend stories that Dean made, his mind distraught by the fact that his older brother practically no longer exist but his dick chubbed up to the point of leaking pre as his wildest sexual kink manifested in real time and happened to someone he personally knows.

So, like any horny 21 years old, he decided to rub one out while letting his brother stories played in loop. Should he confront Dean about all of this? Or will that risk him turned into a puppet too?

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Jealousy (Sihtric Kjartansson x reader)

synopsis: An order from Uthred has Sihtric and you in a situation that is less than to both of your liking, for very seperate reasons. However it also brings to light more than what you were sent there to do.

warnings: Sihtric being jealous (obvi), smut but nothing too graphic, p in v, love confessions, afab reader

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

(If you want to be tagged in the `kissing booth AU´, for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you @wildchild2707 for the lovely request! I´m sorry it took a bit to actually get to and finish it. I still hope you like it!<3

Dividers by me

You thought it was a bad idea, but when Uthred had come to you the previous night to talk to you about his plans for you and Sihtric to secretly spy on another clan of Danes that had settled to draw the borders between Daneland and the remaining land ruled by Saxons even further, you couldn't deny him. Still, you spend the whole night awake with all sorts of bad feelings swirling in your stomach. It was one thing not to let the others know where you went, but to stage a fight... It wouldn't have been your first choice. The allegiance of the men surrounding you seemed to waver from day to day as it was already. Of course, Uthred wouldn´t hear any of these concerns. According to your leader the clan was prone to violent behaviour just because they could and made up of many different country men. Your knowledge of languages would come in practical according to Uthred, but the prospect of being able to use your knowledge didn´t make you any happier. Instead of planning a staged fight, he should have been planning the attack that wiped out the clan. A deep sigh left your lungs as you sit with the others, waiting for the operation to start. The sound luckily goes unnoticed by Finan and Osferth, who are too busy with their own banter to pay attention to their surroundings. It was driving you crazy. They had fought against Danes alongside women before. What made you so different from them that you weren’t good enough to do something you were easily capable of. At least in his eyes. He had seen you fight and now when he had the chance to harness your power, he was going so far as to even put someone by your side to, what, secure everything would go to plan? Sihtric breaks your line of thought by 'provoking' Uthred, catching the attention of everyone sitting around in the tavern. It was a mess with the two men 'arguing´ while Finan tried to intervene and conciliate them, of course to no avail. After several fruitless attempts you begrudgingly play your part.

“Sihtric.” You call out to him with a firm voice. Surprisingly having his attention immediately. The brown puppy eyes search yours as you continue to speak in a calming tone. “Let us go.”

The two of you make your way away from the ground. Ignoring the off handed comment from somewhere in the crowd about how whipped Sihtric must be to follow you so easily and how you had him henpecked. It made your blood boil and fists clench tightly to be reduced to this caricature of an angry housewife, but you had to prepare for the coming night.

When everyone finally goes to sleep, you sneak to the stables, take your horses and begin the journey to the new camp. It is tough, but you get accepted by them eventually and trusted enough to collect the information you want to get. Yet the longer you stay there, a change settles over your life, that no one could have foreseen.

Your plan going into the mission was to get in get the information and get out. To get involved with anyone as little as possible. If only plans always worked out the way they are supposed to.

Over time, you grew closer to one of the men. He had to be a few years older, yet you found yourself sparring with him often and even outside of that, something akin to the sentiments of a friendship formed between the two of you. Even if it admittedly made Sihtric quite huffy, you felt like Krystof saw you for all of you, there were no lingering or lusting glances or looks of underestimation and that felt nice, it truly did. It was a welcome change, even if the simple sight of it soured not only Sihtric's mood, but also the friendship you had once shared. If one could have called it that before, it surely wasn't anymore now. Discussions of what information you had gathered and steps to take from then on were laced with sarcastic comments of all kinds. Every single one going ignored or being answered by a roll of your eyes. You told him often enough why you were leaning into the affectionate behaviour of some of the men. It is not until one dinner that you get an explanation ass to where these remarks stemmed from.

Krystof and you sat together, eating and talking with your heads close together as to understand each other over the noise of the others, when you catch Sihtric shooting you another one of those sour looks.

“You are aware he is far beyond wanting to simply hump you, right?” Krystof asks with a conspiratorial grin.

“Do not be silly now.” You scold him, but the smile on your face is firm in its place.

“I am not being silly; this is a man deep in love if I have ever seen one. A very jealous one at that.” He insists.

You look over to Sihtric who looks about ready to murder the entire settlement by himself. Quickly and to not raise suspicion, you turn back away from him, but barely get enough time to open your mouth to say something to your new friend, when someone taps you on the shoulder.

“We need to talk.” Sihtric began. The words not a question, but a statement. “Now.”

“Are you feeling well Sihtric? You are quite red in the face.” You noted the state he was in. Breath heaving his chest, fists clenched and a red tint colouring his face.

“Yes, I have never been better. I need to talk to you.” He insists.

“What is this about? You have been behaving so differently ever since we arrived here.” You question the dark-haired man as the two of you enter the empty stables nearby.

“Do you seriously have to ask why?” His answer is more affected and rawer than you would´ve thought it would be, making your heart skip a beat in surprise.

“Would you please just explain it to me?” You ask this time with more insistence.

For a moment there is silence between the two of you while Sihtric is struggling to find the right words.

However, the moment concludes with not a verbal answer, but his rough hands cupping your face and as your eyes widen and your heartbeat accelerates, he pulls you in to press his lips to yours. Expressing every feeling he harbours for you with the touch. It takes a moment to process what is happening, moving you to pull away from him.

“The depth of the affections I have felt for you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you is too far to ever be accurately put into words. Out of respect of your lack of interest in romantic relationships I swore myself to stay away, but seeing you fully lean into the pretty words those men poured into your ear like honey, drives me wild. Tell me, what changed so suddenly?” Sihtric's words are raw with emotion. So much that it would have stunned you, where you a different person.

“Sihtric, you would not have to ask this if you heard the way any of Uhtred’s men talked about women? Even the women who fought along them? We are nothing more than objects in the end. Here I am recognized for the qualities I have, not the ones that men wish I would have. Besides, it got me a ton of information we otherwise might not have gotten at all.” You doubt your words will make much of a change, yet Sihtric seems to always be good for a surprise.

He pulls you close once more, the hold on your body is gentle enough for you to pull away should you wish to, but still firm enough to show his intention.

“If you allow me, I will prove to you that I am not like them.” He whispers against your lips, waiting for a sign of your consent.

Which follows in the form of a nod and a whispered “Yes.”

In the blink of an eye his lips crash onto yours again in what this time is a reciprocated kiss. Your lips move together in perfect synchronisation. Languid movements speak the depth of your affections for each other into the world. Your hands move to wander over his strong upper arms, feeling the muscles tense underneath. All the while the dark-haired man pushes you backwards to lay against the stack of hay, never once breaking the sweet, yet passionate kiss.

Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage, warm breath huffing against his face like his does yours.

“I have dreamt of this forever.” Sihtric muttered.

His hands are all over you. Caressing you with the most reverend touches anyone has ever graced you with, making your heart beat out of your chest as the two of you begin to undress each other slowly. Hands moving over ever inch of skin as it gets exposed. Everything about this moment steals the words and thoughts right from your brain. In truth you had been feeling much the same for him, yet you had never seen a chance for the two of you to be together like this.

“You are a goddess.” Sihtric´s quiet voice in your ear pulls you from the attempt at coherent thought.

His surprisingly soft lips ghost over the shell of your ear, but the tingling is soon overshadowed by his hard length running through your folds to tease before positioning himself at your entrance. With slow, deliberate movements he pushes inside of your tight hole, setting a steady pace. Even the dull feeling of fullness only aids in the conveying of the affection the two of you have for each other. This isn't senseless humping. With expert moves Sihtric brings you closer to climax.

A string of desperate “I love you”´s falls from your lips uncontrollably, like a prayer, voice raw from whining and moaning.

Each one is answered by Sihtric calmingly shushing you as one of his hands caressed your forehead, eventually settling to rest against your cheek.

Your eyes move up to meet his and Sihtric bows his head to lean his forehead against yours.

“I have always loved you.” He mutters breathily.

His lips capture yours to muffle the louder growing whines and whimpers and with steady, deliberate, perfect rolls of his hips, you are made to feel the waves of pleasure crash over you. Your legs tighten behind his back to pull him close as your hips shake and walls flutter until he follows off the edge. Shooting his seed into your cunt until he has no more to give.

The two of you remain there until you hear voices filing out of the hall, basking in the afterglow of your love making and each other’s presence now that the tension had been dissolved. You were aware that there were still things to talk about probably, but now was not the time.

[the-s1lly-corner]

How do you think the digital circus crew would react to a new member who genuinely to want to stay and doesn't want to leave at all?

TADC cast x reader who doesnt wanna leave the circus !

i lied about the previous post being the nights last post, imma spit out one more before i call it a night!! hope this is okay anon, this one may be a little on the short side; maybe.. i always write these notes before everything and forget to edit them accordingly

wrote this as general reactions instead of platonic/romantic/whatever relationship stuff! i like to imagine reader says this when the topic of trying to find an exit comes up... like imagine the atmosphere the looks the !!

CAINE:

hey i mean, hes not gonna stop you from not leaving! caines part is a little weird, since ive seen so many theories on his whole deal and i like them all, i cant settle on just one idea and roll with it... i think he would be thrilled that you want to stay, though.. doesnt have to remind you there is no escape because youre not interested in it... i think he would casually ask why you dont want to leave, though, its not often he finds someone whos content, at least not content without the loss of hope

POMNI:

she was the one who brought up trying to find an exit, again.. she kind of just looks at you with confusion written all over her face. she asks you if you meant that you have given up on trying to escape. you assure her that you just dont want to leave, giving up has nothing to do with it. she just gapes her mouth, before closing. blinks twice, and just asks why. why stay in a program like this? you cant provide an answer that seems to appease her, though... definitely some weird and confused looks from her

RAGATHA:

she doesnt know what to think of it. ragatha herself has come to terms with her position. like sure if there were a plan to escape that truly seemed like it would work, i think she would jump on it and try to leave.. i dont think she would pry you for answers, she believes you have your own personal reasons

JAX:

honestly i dont think he would care, assuming this is as i said in the note above where the topic of escape comes up and you guys arent dating or like best friends. i mean its your life and hes not going to argue with you, if you wanna be stuck in this shithole thats your business. oddly enough doesnt use it as ammo against you, though, and he bullies everyone over just about anything... maybe he cant come up with a cool nickname that makes sense, or otherwise find a way to make fun of you... but. idk

KINGER:

i think kinger would like to escape but i think he just accepted hes going to be stuck here forever. now if he had someone to fight for and be with and they wanted to leave, he would follow them. otherwise hes content with staying put because he doesnt have much incentive or desire remaining to leave. being there for years and seeing so many people fall does that to a person

ZOOBLE:

very similar to jax, in the case that its your business, of course this is assuming you guys arent close to one another. theyre not going to lecture you on how to go about your life. nothing to say here that wasnt already said in jax's segment

GANGLE:

gives you a soft and meek "but why" when you speak up to the group that you dont plan on leaving when pomni brings the topic up. you offer a shrug, or just say you dont want to leave. true utter confusion, and in a dark way believes that you prefer this world over the real one; even when your memories are smeared and burned, if any remain at all

[pandorasprongs]

CHAPTER ONE | nothing good starts in a getaway car.

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: after attending the last richmond match of the season and being stranded in nelson road, reader has to hitch a ride with an old friend, jamie tartt.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: welcome to chapter one! the title of this makes it seem a little more dramatic than it actually is, but i just thought the lyric fit haha. hope you all enjoy!

“Oh my God, I really can’t believe it. AFC Richmond might actually make it back into the fucking Premier League!” Liv exclaimed, and you playfully rolled your eyes while putting on your shoes. “And I can’t believe my awesome boyfriend got us tickets to the finals!”

“What better way to spend the eve of our anniversary, yeah?” Freddie pulled his girlfriend into a side hug before helping her put on her jacket.

You hold back from smirking at the couple. If only your best friend knew what was about to go down, you'd probably go deaf from all the additional squealing. Even now, she was way too excited about the game to even notice how shaky her boyfriend was acting and the small bump on the left side of his jacket.

You never really liked watching football anymore, let alone going to games, but after Freddie told you a month ago about his plan, you just had to be there for his proposal. Well, possible proposal. The whole thing hinged on Richmond being promoted, so he needed at least a draw to get down on one knee. Of course, if the team lost, the two of you had already planned a backup proposal for their dinner tomorrow — which was the whole reason Freddie asked for your help in the first place.

You were so excited for the two of them, but it wasn’t enough to stop the pit in your stomach from forming. While you hadn’t been following football as much as you used to, you knew at least that Jamie was back at Richmond. You’d sometimes see your co-workers watching their games and praising the guy for being such a great player. They never asked you about your own thoughts cause they just assumed you didn’t know anything about the game, given you never talked about it. And that was good enough for you. But this was for Liv, and you’d do anything for that girl.

As you exit onto the sidewalk, Liv leans in to whisper, “Sorry about the shirt, by the way. It was the only one available at the stand. Apparently, there’s a surplus of Tartt shirts in stock.”

You had been friends with Liv since university when you became dormmates, so she knew about your former friendship with the player. Who else would know better than the girl who comforted you as you wept that night in your second year? But that was years ago, and you’ve been doing your best to put that in the past.

“It’s fine,” you laugh it off as you interlock your arm with hers. “It’s just a shirt, anyway. And not to mention, pretty low likelihood of him seeing me specifically in the crowd.” At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You weren’t exactly sure where in the stands your seats were, but even if you were right near the dugout, wearing this shirt meant you’d just blend in with the sea of red and blue. Plus, it was sunny out, so it was socially acceptable for you to wear shades to the game, too.

The three of you load into Frankie's car, with you in the back seat. During the ride, you started to tune out whatever the couple was talking about and mainly focused on trying to stop your legs from bouncing. You try and admire the surroundings, but you've lived in London for so long that the touristy effect has worn off. If anything, looking around Manchester would excite you more.

It was a short ride to Nelson Road, but there was still a hefty amount of walking given that cars weren't allowed past a certain point. You'd tried your best to get there as early as possible, but there was already a swarm of fans heading to the stadium.

You'd already claimed your tickets a few days ago, so you only had to push your way through the crowd once to get to your seats. Frankie managed to get tickets for the ones right behind the net, so you had a pretty good view of the game. If only that was all you were worrying about.

As you settle down in your seats, you try and shake it off. This isn't about Jamie; it hasn't been for years. You're here for Liv and Frankie, and that's all it was.

Though, after that terrible first half, you were wondering if the results would be too disappointing for the couple to even enjoy.

"What the actual fuck is going on with them?" You question as the teams return to their locker rooms.

Neither Liv nor Frankie gives you an answer, but the latter leans into you and whispers, "You double-checked the reservation for tomorrow, right?"

You sigh and nod your head. No matter the outcome, Liv was going to have a great proposal story, but wouldn't it be nice to tell everyone you got engaged at the same place and time as Richmond's promotion?

When the game starts again, you join the rest of the fans at the edge of their seat. Despite your efforts to distance yourself from the sport, — and in turn, Jamie — you couldn't deny the rush you got from watching it, especially in the stands. So when Sam Obisanya manages to score a goal, you're up with the rest of the crowd celebrating.

"Christ, I didn't realize you such were a big fan of Richmond," Frankie jokes, but you're quick to deny it.

"I'm not!" You cool down your tone when you see him widen his eyes and explain, "My formative years were spent in Manchester, so I know enough about football. Haven't been to a match in so long though," All of that was true, but you hold back from telling Frankie about your history with a certain player.

He seems satisfied with that answer and you go back to watching the match, your hands curling on the railing.

"Tartt is there. Is this the moment for Richmond?" You hear one of the sports commentators say and that gets all three of you out of the chair.

"Come on, Jamie." You whisper under your breath, and for a moment you forget everything that's happened between the two of you. He's just a football player and you're just a fan watching.

So when an opposing player tackles him, you're quick to shout, "Referee!" with the other people in your section.

"And it's a penalty!" You turn to Frankie and Liv as the crowd starts cheering, before turning your focus back to the teams getting ready. His cockiness wasn't always a good look, but it's kept him winning his entire career.

Jamie walks up to the net and you get the urge to keep your head low and avoid eye contact. But he hands the ball over to Dani Rojas, and so you look back up to watch the deciding goal, joining hands with Liv. You watch Dani mumble something under his breath before he kicks the ball right into the net.

"Richmond have done it!" You and Liv hug in celebration, but after a moment, you quickly separate. Your best friend keeps her eyes on you, but you watch as Frankie gets into position.

"You're gonna have another thing to celebrate." You say and before Liv can even give you a confused look, you turn her around to face her boyfriend, who is down on one knee.

Some of the other fans in your section started watching the proposal, with varying expressions. Some of your fellow hopeless romantics had a fond look on their faces, while the people who just wanted to watch a football game couldn't wait for it to be over so they could get back to celebrate in peace.

You knew Liv well, so it was no surprise when she started jumping up and down again, shouting "Yes!" repeatedly. You smile and let the couple have their moment before your best friend turns to you. "I can't believe you managed to hide this from me."

"I told you I was a good liar." You joke, then pull the two of them into a group hug. Now, today had two celebrations.

As the team headed back to their locker room and the crowd started to disperse, the three of you start heading back down Nelson Road to the car. You were lagging behind the couple and crowds of people around you made it harder and harder to keep up.

It's their special day anyway, you think, and once you manage to catch up to them, you say, "I'll find another way home! You guys enjoy yourselves,"

"You sure?" Frankie asks and you nod enthusiastically. The couple start walking to the car and you look around to find a shop to wait out the crowd in.

Luckily, there was a nice bakery on the other side of the road with a good number of people. You order a chocolate muffin and a caramel macchiato before settling down in one of the seats near the window. You decide to start booking a taxi now because judging by the crowd, it was going to take a few tries.

As expected, you managed to find a driver after twenty minutes. Most of the crowd had already left, so it would've been easy for you to find the car. Then, the driver canceled.

You went through that routine two more times till this point, where you were waiting outside for the fourth and final driver you booked. You were starting to regret letting Liv and Frankie go off on their own and promise that if they cancel again, you're walking.

When you hear someone call out your name, you sigh in relief till you realize that the map showed the taxi wasn't anywhere near Nelson Road yet. You turn to see Jamie Tartt peeking his head out of his car window. The look on his face is a mix of surprise and confusion.

Well, shit.

"Is that you?" His Mancunian accent catches you off guard after years of not visiting your childhood town.

"Hi, Jamie." Words you didn't expect to say ever again. You're not sure what else to say, especially since it's your first time seeing him since you were 19.

After a few more quiet moments, Jamie looks around the empty walkway before he asks, "You waiting for someone?"

"Yeah, I just," You glance back down at your phone to find the driver canceling on you once again. "Nope, the driver canceled for the fourth fucking time," you swear and instead of a sympathetic look from the footballer, he just laughs. 

Your expression morphs from disappointment to judgment, while Jamie remarks, "Christ, is your rating that bad?"

You roll your eyes. "Fuck off, will you?" You may have said it harsher than you intended. Well, that's on him for joking around like nothing ever happened. Not just that, but you were clearly not in the mood for it, especially from him.

You watch the footballer's expression falter but he quickly bounces back. "Deserved that." In more ways than one, you think to yourself. "But I didn't mean it like that. I probably have a shittier rating than you do after the times I've vomited in a taxi."

That makes you crack a smile, though you hide it from Jamie. He didn't need any more reason to think it was fine to joke around like you were seventeen again.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Jamie." You move to turn around and start walking home when he calls out to you again.

"D'you wanna ride? You always hated exercise, even walking." Jamie offers.

"Bold of you to assume I haven't changed in half a decade." You try and keep a straight face when turning to him, but you think about it. You squint at the accuracy and sigh. "Even if you're right. Thanks,"

You head to the passenger side and get in the car, and when you do, you encode your address in the GPS. As you lean towards the console, you can't stop yourself from tensing up. This is the closest you've been to Jamie in years. After, you tuck your hands under your thighs — a nervous habit of yours since childhood — as the car starts heading off Nelson Road.

The footballer notices this action but decided not to say anything. The fact he was even able to get you to accept his offer was a miracle in and of itself. He didn't want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were. He was just glad to see you again, after everything. 

Maybe he did come off a little strong earlier, and your response to his joke was warranted, but seeing you in a Richmond jersey — specifically his — brought him back to his teenage years, filled with happy memories with you. He almost completely forgot about how things actually ended between the two of you.

And when a Taylor Swift song starts playing in the car, you start to feel Jamie's eyes on you.

Nervous about his reason for staring and possibly crashing, you decide to ask, "What? Is there something on my face?" Your tone wasn't playful, but it wasn't hostile either. An apathetic sweet spot, you might call it, even if it's far from what you're actually feeling.

"No," Jamie answers quickly. "It's just... Taylor Swift," he nods towards the console. "You used to love her back then. Wouldn't let me get near the controls when a song of hers was playing, so you could sing along."

"Yeah," You start getting flashes of fond memories involving driving around town when you were bored on weekends, specifically, the time when Jamie officially got his license.

"Are we breaking the law?" You ask hesitantly, as you buckle your seatbelt. "You sure we're not gonna crash?"

"Hey! You're acting as if this is the first time I'm driving you." He protests and you shake your head.

"You picked me up from a failed date. We just drove home and even then, you almost drove off the road, didn't you?" You recount the memory.

Jamie scoffs. "In my defense, you asked me if I thought you were hot. Any guy would've lost control too!"

"Excuse me, I was very vulnerable that time because of stupid Tim. And, all I asked was if you thought I was attractive." You're practically gripping the seatbelt with your left hand, your knuckles turning white.

"Same thing," Your best friend rolls his eyes, but seeing as your nerves haven't subsided, he raises his right hand and promises, "I solemnly swear that I will not crash the car. If I do, (Y/N) will be permitted a lifetime of 'I told you so's,’ so help me God."

You try and act annoyed but you soon let out a chuckle. "Just drive the car, Jamie." As he backs out of the driveway, you turn on the radio, and just your luck, it's Taylor Swift's newest song.

"Christ," you hear Jamie mutter under his breath. Despite how he reacted, Jamie loved listening to you sing. Even if you only ever did it in front of him and your respective families. It always gets you into a good mood, even if you said it made you look goofy. He was just happy to see you like that.

You laugh at Jamie's supposed annoyance. "If you want me to calm down, you have to let me do this." You say, before breaking into song, matching the lyrics word for word.

You stop yourself from smiling at the memory when your chest starts to ache at the reminder of how things used to be. You quickly change the topic, pushing that flashback to the back of your mind. "I forgot to say, congrats on the promotion. It was a really good game, especially as a spectator."

"Yeah, thanks. The team really stepped up today," Jamie says, sounding like he's answering one of those after-match interview questions. It wasn't like before, when after every game, he'd recount every feeling and thought he had to you, mentioning even the smallest details like how blades of grass managed to get into his sock and he had to power through the inconvenience for the second half of the match.

"Thought you'd still be off celebrating with them. I mean, don't football teams usually go out for drinks after wins, especially promotions?" You point out, before turning to face Jamie for the first time. You realize how much he'd grown up since the last time you'd seen him. 

He changed his hair, you note. Well, it was closer to what it was before he joined the league. You always cringed when you saw his spiked-up hair from last season and even more so when you would see pictures of his fully slicked-down hair when he went back to Manchester City. It was the same kind of hair he had when the two of you were eight because his mom was always too scared that the loose strands would get in his eyes and he'd get into an accident.

This suited him, but you think a middle part would be better. You get the urge to reach out and move his hair around just to see how it would look, but Jamie's response snaps you back to reality.

"Yeah, we do. We're meeting up at a pub later tonight, but everyone wanted to head home first." He explains, and you turn back to the road. Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie sees you nod at his answer. 

There are a few moments of quiet silence before he finally asks. "Did you come to the game," to see me play? he almost adds before backtracking. "alone?"

You're slightly taken aback by the question, but when you remember how Jamie found you, — alone in the walkway, staring at your phone, — then it doesn't seem like such an obnoxious assumption.

"No, I went with my best friend and her boyfriend." Ten year old you would be heartbroken to hear you refer to someone else as your best friend, but that was the reality now. You explain your presence at the game, "He was planning to propose to her after the match, as long as you guys got promoted. So thanks for that."

"Oh, that was them?" He turns to face you as he stops at a red light, before expounding. "Dani and Sam saw it happen and mentioned it on the way back to the locker room. They were 'aww'ing the whole time."

"It was pretty cute," you add, smiling and remembering the feeling of witnessing it. "But honestly, I didn't really think it through 'cause then I would've had to third wheel them for dinner. Which isn't the first time, but newly engaged people can be so fucking horny."

You're not sure why you added that, but it causes Jamie to chuckle. "Guess you dodged a bullet there, yeah?"

"Yeah," you laugh as well until you remember you're supposed to be mad at Jamie. Your smile disappears quickly and you swallow the feeling.

Jamie watches your expression change, but he continues to drive until he finally has enough of it. This might be the last time he gets the chance to do it and he has been on a self-improvement kick these past few months. Might as well try and fix one of his oldest relationships. And if not fixed, at least improve it enough to let yourself laugh around him.

The car arrives in front of your building, but before you can leave, Jamie says your name. Softly, softer than his voice has been this whole ride, and you already know what's going to follow this.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for," Jamie pauses and swallows the lump in his throat. "That night. It was a real prick move, especially after I gho—"

"Jamie, can we not?" You interrupt him before you even comprehend the words coming out of your mouth. Jamie backs up slightly, taken aback by your statement, but he shuts his mouth.

You sigh and close your eyes for a second. You didn't realize how much harder it would be to actually confront him about it, despite your harshness towards him earlier for acting so chummy with you. Maybe Jamie was on to something, pretending as if nothing had changed. That you guys were just old friends who were catching up after ending on good terms.

And you thought you were ready. You've spent multiple nights imagining how it would be to hear him apologize, to talk about what an arse he was back then, and how he never meant to hurt you. You imagined slamming the door in his face, shutting him out, and hurting him in every way that he hurt you. But as you’re faced with it at this exact moment, the thought of going through all of that makes your chest heavy. Almost heavier than it was that night in the pub.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm been weird this whole time." You start, shaking your head. "But you don't have to explain anything. Honestly. These past few years, I've just been trying to forget that night." And you. "Because if I did, then it wouldn't ruin all the memories we made as kids. So, let's just not talk about it, yeah?"

Jamie still seems to be processing your words, but you continue on and propose, "We can pretend the last time we saw each other was when I left for uni."

Dr. Sharon told Jamie that avoiding conflict will never actually solve it and he's tried to internalize that. That's part of the reason why he wanted to apologize. But at this point, if you didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to make you.

"Sure," he finally says and you feel your muscles relax. "If that's what you want."

Was it what you wanted? It was the easy way out, but easy wasn't always the best way. Then again, Jamie always brought out your less logical side, even after all this time. Maybe knowing that he was sorry was enough. And after the whole drive, you were starting to believe those articles that said Jamie Tartt was no longer the prick he was before.

"Okay then," you say. "Thanks for the ride. And uh, good night, Jamie." You smile at the footballer, a genuine one to try and convince him — and yourself — that all was well in the world again.

And maybe it was. At least, for now.

"Wait," You sense Jamie reaching out to you, but you turn before he can actually grasp at your shirt. "Could I have your new number?"

You hadn't actually changed your number since you were 15, but things seemed to be going well, so you decide not to mention it and type it into his phone.

"Thanks," Jamie flashes you a smile and your heart swells, just like it did when you two were kids. Maybe it was going to be okay.

"I guess, call me when you're missing an old friend," are your parting words with the footballer. You miss his reaction when you slide out of the car and walk into the building resisting the urge to look back at him.

A/N: yay, first chapter! just a warning, things are definitely not going to be resolved this easily.  this denial thing is actually gonna make it so much worse later on but! right now, things are looking up for reader and jamie. also, you'll find out about that night in future chapters hehe. :) i hope you guys liked it and stay tuned for chapter two!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

[quoththemaiden]

The final chapter of @mrghostrat's Big Name Feelings Good Omens AU is dropping tomorrow, so obviously there was no way I could resist writing another fanscene. (Previous scene 1, 2, 3) Inspired by the sheer domesticity of chapters 15 and 16, enjoy this end-of-series scene.

—

Crowley's key fumbled against the lock — still Aziraphale's lock, technically, but very firmly Crowley's key. "Dinner was good, though?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes a little at how much more attention his face was getting than the keyhole. Sherlock Holmes might have blamed the wine they shared at dinner for the scratches around the lock, but Aziraphale knew better. "It was delicious, of course. You should know; you were there."

"Nnyeah, well, it's your opinion I care about." As if that weren't obvious from Crowley having gotten them a table at one of the city's best restaurants on Valentine's Day and insisting on not even letting him see the bill.

As if Aziraphale was ever any good at hiding his appreciation of good food.

"Quite sure," Aziraphale replied with a gentle touch on Crowley's arm that swiftly turned into snagging the key from him to open the door himself. Crowley let out a huffy laugh as he followed him inside. "Tea?"

"Sure, if that goes with whatever we're doing next." Crowley had been trying to wheedle Aziraphale's planned gift out of him for the past two weeks, and Aziraphale had remained utterly firm in not sharing it with him. Crowley insisted that whatever Aziraphale planned would be alright with him so there was no reason for Aziraphale to be shy about it, and Aziraphale had said "I know, dearest," and somehow that's as far as Crowley's attempts at learning Aziraphale's plans ever got.

Aziraphale fussed around with the tea and put on some music — old-fashioned stuff on actual CDs, the sap — and Crowley was left to lean against the doorjamb watching him and coming to terms with being so terribly, completely besotted that their evening plans could be "absolutely nothing" and Crowley wouldn't love it a single speck less. Aziraphale had said that he'd always thought of Valentine's Day as just another day, and that he'd certainly never considered that he might be able to celebrate it publicly, so Crowley was already delighted at having coaxed him out to dinner. Crowley found himself very suddenly aware that if Aziraphale's supposed plans amounted to nothing at all, he honestly wouldn't mind. His fifteen-year-old self would eat him alive if he knew, and Crowley felt warm inside to know that that was his younger self's loss.

Crowley blinked out of his reverie in time to help Aziraphale carry the teacups into the living room, and was almost surprised when Aziraphale brought a bag in with him as he followed. "Whazzat?"

"Painting supplies, dear." Aziraphale set the bag down on the coffee table.

Another point in favor of another evening spent doing nothing unusual. Crowley relaxed back into the couch, wondering if his melting heart could leave stains on the fabric. "What're you gonna paint?"

"You!" Par for the course again, then. Aziraphale gave a happy wriggle. "I hope you aren't ticklish!"

Wait, what?

"Uh?" Crowley picked up one of the paints Aziraphale was setting out and found that the label said, quite clearly, "body safe." "Angel?"

Aziraphale looked at him with a smile that said he was still 100% confident in his plan despite Crowley's confusion. "I thought it might be a nice reminder of the con. Getting an airbrush and making stencils didn't seem sensible, really, but I know how to use a brush well enough."

Crowley let out a breathy laugh. "'Well enough' 's an understatement. Geez, now MY gift feels—"

"—completely, perfectly tailored to me," Aziraphale cut in. "I would have been actually cross if you'd insisted on getting me another sword." Crowley laughed again, and it warmed Aziraphale's heart that he'd seemed to do nothing but laugh all night. Aziraphale patted Crowley's hand before picking up his tea, taking an appreciative sip and willing it to calm the excited fluttering in his chest. "What do you think? Another serpent on your cheek? I was thinking a tree would look rather lovely spread across your spine and shoulder blades..."

Crowley shivered a little at that, easily able to picture Aziraphale straddling his hips as he lay on the bed, Aziraphale's left palm spread flat on his back to keep himself steady with the rise and falls of Crowley's breath, his paintbrush tenderly tracing a line along his spine...

"Snake first," he agreed quickly. "And then..." He looked down on Aziraphale's arms and swallowed. "Think you could paint on your own arm? I could help hold things steady for you."

"Oh," Aziraphale breathed, and Crowley's heart clenched in the best of ways. He had no idea how Aziraphale always managed to say that like he was falling in love all over again, time and time again, but he did.

No, that wasn't quite right. Crowley probably did know. He suspected it came from the same place as the way he'd looked at Aziraphale as he helped him out of the car today. Aziraphale had taken his arm without hesitation and looked up at him with a warmer smile than any mortal had ever earned, and Crowley had been certain he was wearing his own heart on his sleeve, his vest, and every other garment he owned.

He adored him, and somehow, ineffably, it was the smallest moments that made it stand out the most.

"...right," Aziraphale managed to say around the happy tightness in his throat. "Some art for the both of us, then."

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter eight: somethings missing

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: the group deals with Daniel and his antics, max and Charles fight for the championship, reader is actively fighting her car.

Warnings: hospitals, drugging, talks of infertility, no consent medical procedures, anxiety, talks of abuse, mentions of depression, sexual innuendo

Notes: this one was hard to write tbh. There was just a lot going on. Also I feel like I’m getting bolder. I blame it on the face I’ve been on A03 a lot the last week.

Previous <-

7.5 <-

Masterlist

Moving day could not come fast enough.

Turns out Daniel is more perverted than they expected. They found him spying on them multiple times.

Mostly just enough for stolen kisses. Once on them doing things when they thought he was gone for the night. Turns out he lied.

That being said, he is a caring friend and made safety the number one concern. None of them posted anything about where they were. Daniel never had anyone over. He checked his locks and windows multiple times before bed just to help them sleep.

It was a relief to finally have their own space again. More space compared to the original apartment. Dating a world champion definitely has its perks.

The security is much better here also. More cameras around the outside. Not being able to come up unless personally invited and cleared with the front desk of the building.

They felt themselves being able to relax. Something they drastically needed before the start of the season.

~

The 2022 season came around fast. Already two races in and redbull was ready to dominate.

Much to Charles misfortune.

They didn't have hard feelings about anything, though. They all celebrated each others highs and consoled in the lows. The rest of the grid wondered how they managed.

Unless, of course, it's Daniel who knows exactly how they manage given the Brit slipped about his phone password and never changed it.

The third race of the season had just concluded. It's her first, Charles second, and Max third. Not exactly sure how she managed to get up there, but she didn't care.

As celebrations ended, she found herself going back to her room to get ready for the press conference. Occasionally, being stopped by fans on her way.

Charles spots her and is jogging in her direction. "Off to get the champagne out of your hair, I assume?"

"Correct. I'm leaving it everywhere else, though, for later." She winks. Her confidence had been getting better lately. The boys doing their best to help her come out of her shell. It also helps when the hate and nasty comments get to much for her. They make sure to stick her back together.

Her and Charles take a corner, and every sound goes underwater. It didn't matter that it had been six years since she'd seen him, her father looked exactly the same as the day she left.

Air left her lungs. Her hands shakily fumble for anything to help hold her up. Grateful that Charles is there to help her stay on her feet.

He's wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans. His face has more wrinkles now. He looks more built than she last remembers, yet he remains the same.

"Chéri? What's wrong?" Charles is scanning over her body and trying to follow her gaze. His eyes land on the figure moving towards them.

Then she's running with Charles in tow. The Monegasque is trying to put pieces together, but nothing comes to mind. That wasn't the man who'd given them the box. Was it..? No way. He absolutely refuses to believe her father had managed his way here.

"I need to know what's going on so I can help." He cradles the girls face. Her eyes are distant and moving rapidly to assess her surroundings.

"It's him- need Seb." She pants. Her words mildly slurred from her body's current lack of control.

Charles’ plan to text them is foiled by the figure - her father - now coming around the corner. Heading straight for them at a rapid pace.

Charles knows he's not going to get anywhere fast enough, and he'll just follow anyway. Instead, he takes the girl and tucks her protectively behind him.

Charles feels himself recoil in disgust. The entirety of this man drips unpleasant things. He tries to put up a brave front as he feels the girl behind him shaking like a leaf.

"Do you need something?"

"I actually want a picture, with just y/n if you don't mind." The man's voice is coarse and unpleasant to listen to.

"We're actually on our way to a press conference, but possibly later." Charles smiles unwillingly. Hopefully, playing along with whatever this game is will get him to go away.

Charles is taken off guard when he's shoved abruptly aside. He curses himself for trying to look relaxed, letting himself be moved so easily.

He tries to pull her away by her shoulder. Force her to keep walking until someone can help them. But she's frozen in place. The proximity of her father and his disgusting hands on her biceps makes Charles broil with anger.

Charles makes a move to get in between them, but he's too late.

A hand has left her arm and into his pocket. A blunt needle comes back at her so fast that even as Charles pulls her, it still makes contact. The contents spilling into her.

It is cold and unpleasant, and she hates it. Her father is just laughing as Charles drags her to safety. "You should have come home! Now you'll have to come back.”

Charles tries to hold the needle where it lands until he can pull it out. The awkward angle it entered below her collar bone makes if difficult.

Her body is failing. She wants to blame it on shock, but this feels different. The energy she's gotten good at controlling now surges with a lack of purpose and a heap of vengeance.

Charles can feel her skin heating up as he drags her to the redbull motor home.

He's thankful when he spots Christian and yells out to him. The team principle is volting to his side when he sees the female driver unresponsive.

"What happened?"

"It's a lot to explain. We need to get her somewhere safe, and then I need to find Sébastien." It's a demand and he's thankful Christian can tell he is trying to figure things out.

They successfully get her into her small driver room. Then he's calling Seb and texting their group chat.

When he receives confirmation that they are on their way, he turns his attention to the comically large needle stuck in his lover.

"Somone came at us while we were walking. I tried to pull her out of the way, but it didn't matter. He was too close." Charles is on the brink of tears now and Christian can see it.

The older man does his best to slide the needle out, wrap it in a towel, and throw it away.

Max and Lando come barreling through the door seconds later. Terror hitting both their faces as they set eyes on their sick looking lover.

She's lost color in her face, she's sweating more now then when she races on a blistering hit day, her body temperature is burning, and her eyes are rolling into the back of her head.

Seb also runs through the door and halts in his tracks. "Was it... was it him?"

Charles just shakes his head. Then Christian is yanked outside the room by Seb. The door clicking behind them.

All three of them get to work trying to soothe her. Max starts running a cold shower to bring her body temp down. Charles is patching the hole in her collar bone, and Lando is perched right next to her, talking and running his fingers in patterns despite the burn.

It doesn't matter, though. She isn't waking up.

~

They end up taking her to the hospital. Praying they don't take her away from them if they find something unusual.

She's woken up a few times, but her panic just made the doctors put her back under. They said she was drugged, and they needed to flush her system. Again, they hoped it stayed that way.

The press conference didn't happen. Neither did any other media, for that matter. The paddock was closed down due to the security issue.

Seb had done his best to explain to Christian that her father is a madman and had made threats but now was acting on them. The team principle is now working with security to try and figure out how to keep him away.

The boys left the room in shifts. Usually having to send a runner to go get essential items for survival.

They watched over her with vigor. Trapped in the ICU for three days. Only leaving when they were forced out by the nurses for the night.

Max was the one to greet her when she woke up. His fingers thread through her hair in hopes of keeping her from thrashing and trying to get out.

It worked.

"I feel awful." She rasps. Her throat is dry from lack of use and lack of liquids. She lets Max's piercing value eyes ground her as she gets her bearings. "Why am I-"

"It doesn't matter right now. You're alive, and that's what counts." Max brings her knuckles up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against them.

Now that she's awake, Seb forced the boys to take proper showers and eat a real meal. Claiming that she's going to need them at their best.

Hanna stays with her while they are gone. Something she didn't know would be best until a female doctor came in with unexpected news.

"Have you ever had a menstrual cycle before?" She asks carefully.

The girls eyes dart between Hanna and the doctor. "I'm not sure, actually. I've never bled before if that's what you mean."

The doctor sighed sympatheticly. "While we were running some tests, we did an ultrasound. We wanted to make sure you weren't pregnant, and we needed to also treat the baby just in case. We found that your uterus and ovaries have been removed."

The girl looks at Hanna. The older woman is on the brink of tears. "Thank you." She says. "Can you give us a moment please?"

The doctor nods her head politely then leaves the two alone.

"I'm confused. What does that - Can I not -"

Hanna shakes her head. The only confirmation she needed. Then she's mourning something she didn't even know she lost until now. Something she didn't even know she wanted.

Her father had put her through a lot as a child. She was drugged and unconscious for weeks sometimes.

Another thing he stole from her.

~

Seb is comforting an emotional Hanna when the trio returns. All of them are frantic now. Desperate to get into the room.

Seb stops them before they can get there. "Be gentle with her." Is all he says before letting them in.

She looks like she's not in her body anymore. Like her mind is in another place.

All of them file on around her. Max and Charles are taking the chairs, and Lando slides himself onto the end of the bed with her.

"He took something else." She stared at the wall. Lando touches her arm but gets no reaction. “My reproductive organs are gone.”

Their faces are shocked. Her period isn't something she brought up. They just assumed she's private about it or it's irregular because of everything she's been through. Now, it makes sense. Why she's never run out of hygiene products and why she never complains of cramps in her lower abdomen.

They don't mourn for her, but with her.

"It doesn't change the fact that we love you."

~

Going home felt scary. Like somehow he would be there waiting to snatch her up.

Max is hyper aware of everything. Charles is attempting to hold off any media that wants the story. Lando is dutifully keeping phones away from all of them. Then there's her, sitting, breathing, wondering if she deserves to be here with them still.

The bed is her new home. She spends her days recovering there. Everyone else is bustling about as she waits for the hours to slink by.

Max is the first to drag her out of bed. Well, not drag, more like man handle. He picks her up out of the comically large mattress and tosses her over the laps of the two boys on the couch.

She doesn't protest. Even as Max slides himself under her to join them.

"It's movie night and your turn to pick."

"Didn't I pick last week?"

"... we skipped three weeks to make it your turn again."

The boys shake their heads at Landos' poor excuse. It's a miracle they managed to come out to the world on their own.

They don't end up watching a movie. Instead, they just talk. The four cuddled up on the couch together. The comfortable atmosphere making her nerves settle.

And she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she can make it through.

~

The next race comes around far too quickly. She's not fully recovered, but she knows she wants to race.

Christian takes his time with her. He doesn't know everything, but he knows enough. He made sure to tell her that her health and safety is their number one concern.

She convinces him that she's fine.

The weekend goes smoothly until Q3 of qualifying. The car decides to not stear as she tries to take a corner during a flying lap, sending her straight into the wall.

Nobody understands what happened. She had seen it coming and tried to adjust, but nothing helped. She felt useless.

All these times, she could have prevented these terrible outcomes, and yet it feels as though something is actively working against her.

Her race engineer and Christian are quick to reassue her that it's not her fault. Logically, she knows that. Mentally and emotionally, she keeps blaming herself.

It's almost as if the car is trying to kill her.

The same thing happens on Sunday during the race. The brakes malfunction, and she hits the wall at speed that makes the crowd go quiet.

Thankfully, she's fine. The boys continue their race, knowing she's okay.

The next race is filled with more of the same. All four wheels of the car manage to puncture and leave her stranded along the track. Then, during the race, she struggles to deaccelerate.

It's unsafe, and her team knows it, but she refuses to retire the care. She manages to cross the line in third in a heap of exhaustion. Nobody knows how she managed that one.

The notes have started showing up in random places around Monaco. She feels like she's being watched all the time.

They tried to go out to a party one night just for her to end up with a spiked drink and an unknown male figure trying to take her somewhere else.

The boys were quick to put a stop to that and take her home.

Race after race, it seems as though everything is working against her. She can't help her team or Max in regards to racing. She's left to just watch and celebrate whichever of the two championship contenders comes out on top of each race.

It's high, and it's low, and she is definitely ready for the much needed summer break.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @jjsprobablywrong

@chanshintien

[daisynik7]

Reap What You Sew

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~5.5k

cw: explicit language, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), established relationship, kissing, suggestive, angst, fluff

Summary: A dinner with you, Mitsuya, and your parents quickly goes south. Mitsuya makes a decision that could lead to dire consequences. 

Author's Note: Hello everyone, thank you for your patience with this! Heads up, this story is going to reach a pretty dramatic turning point in the next chapter, so be prepared! And with that ominous warning, enjoy lol. Thank you for reading!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Mitsuya spends the remainder of their date giving his girlfriend a crash-course in the history of the Tokyo Manji Gang, skipping through the boring, less significant details and emphasizing what she absolutely must know. The most important takeaway is that Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma are not to be trusted at all costs.

Since the encounter, the two left the arcade promptly, Mitsuya glaring at the sketchy captains on the way out, who matched his expression with equal vigor. He made sure they weren’t followed to the station and boarded the train, returning to the park where they had previously spent the most amazing day together. He regrets forcing them to the arcade in the first place, wishing they had stayed laying in the grass, blissful in their own little world, away from any potential danger. How could he be so arrogant to think he could keep these two major parts of his life separate? How could he be so careless to let Hana become involved in this?

Sitting on a park bench, she listens, barely interrupting, nodding along to indicate her understanding. She’s now aware of all the players involved, of who she should avoid and who she can trust, including all of Mitsuya’s closest friends. At one point, she asks, “What about Mikey?”

If this was three years ago, at the height of Toman’s regime, Mitsuya would have a confident answer. However, the founder’s current favoritism towards the new captains leaves many open-ended questions for those who’s been loyal to him from the start. Deep down in his heart, however, Mitsuya still believes in Mikey. He chooses his words carefully. “They’re trying to manipulate him, but we’re going to bring him back. We have to get him back.”

Eventually, he suggests befriending Emma Sano and Hinata Tachibana to learn the ins-and-outs of being a girlfriend of a Toman boyfriend. They’ve both managed to succeed in it without harm, for the most part. Maybe the reason for that is because their boyfriends have both put the gang on the backburner to focus on their personal lives, Draken preparing to be a father and Takemitchy preparing for university. Mitsuya even has his own plans for after high school, but he always figured he would be able to balance his responsibilities all at once. Now that he’s a proper boyfriend, can he add that into his already teetering workload without sacrificing what he already has? Or without one collapsing on top of the other?

Mentally drained from explaining as much as he can, there’s a prolonged silence between them as she lets all the information sink in. After what seems like an eternity, she speaks, a slight waver in her voice, though resilient. “Takashi, it’s going to be okay.”

His brows are tight with worry, holding her hand with a firm grip. “How are you so sure? What if they try to hurt you?” 

She smiles at him. “Because I’m with you. I’ll always be safe when I’m with you.”

He’s scared, absolutely terrified. But her confidence in him moves him to tears. He blinks them away, grinning at her with as much confidence as he can muster. “I’ll keep you safe, Hana. I promise you.”

This is one promise he swears to himself he won’t break. 

~~~

A week after your date, your parents put the pieces together and ask you straight up. “Are you and Mitsuya dating?” It’s your mother who poses the question, your father still as uncomfortable with the subject as he was the morning you announced that you were hanging out with a boy.

The three of you are eating dinner, about finished with the meal on your plate. You almost choke on the last bite, surprised by her very correct accusation. Clearing your throat, you answer honestly. “Yes.”

Your dad makes a strangled nose in his throat, clearly shocked. Maybe he was hoping with all his might that the answer would be no, or that you’d lie about it. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Your mother isn’t quite as keen on playing dumb. She’s noticed the change in your demeanor, the pep in your step, the sound of your hushed voice through the thin walls, speaking to Takashi well into the night on the phone. She doesn’t miss these things. A mother’s intuition never fails. She studies you carefully, almost challenging. “We should invite him over for dinner.”

You know better than to argue with her, so you agree. The next time his mom isn’t working a night shift, that’s when he’ll come for dinner. It’s been decided. 

It’s a Wednesday night when he arrives to your house, dressed in a lavender buttoned-up shirt and black slacks, a colorful bouquet of spring flowers in his hands, smiling wide when you open the door to greet him. His hair is swept back more than usual, gelled and parted to the side, his effort to make a good impression evident. You want to give him a kiss, giddy at his appearance, though you decide against any form of physical affection throughout the night, assuming it wouldn’t be a good look in front of your parents.

He removes his shoes, laying them next to yours on the rack, giving you a sly wink before walking with you into the kitchen, where your parents are putting the finishing touches on their homemade dinner. “Mitsuya, good evening. Thank you for coming,” you mother says, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. She nudges your father, who’s surly near the stove, arms crossed over his chest. He sniffs, avoiding his gaze while he mutters, “Yes, hello.”

Takashi bows, holding out the bouquet when he stands up straight. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Shimizu. Mr. Shimizu. It’s an honor to be here with you tonight to share this wonderful meal. I brought these flowers for you.”

Your mom accepts them, smiling politely. “These are lovely. Thank you. I’ve got the perfect place for them. Honey, go ahead and show your boyfriend to the table. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Your father makes a noise, somewhere between a disgruntled huff and an incredulous laugh. You’re unsure how he feels about this whole situation and you pray that he doesn’t grill Takashi too hard tonight. You’re confident in your boyfriend that he will be his authentic, good-natured self and that your parents will learn to like him just as much as you do. You take your seat at the table, Takashi right beside you. Under the surface, hidden from view, he reaches for your hand, squeezing you gently until your parents join you. Your mother sets the flowers in a vase at the center, adding a splash of color to the setting. 

Tonight’s dinner is glazed miso salmon with white rice and steamed vegetables. Takashi admires the meal with sparkling eyes. “This is incredible, Mrs. Shimizu!”

She waves him off. “Oh, this is nothing, dear.”

“It’s definitely something,” he beams, picking up his chopsticks to dig in. “My mom can’t even make rice without burning it.”

She giggles. “So who does the cooking at home, then?”

“Me. I only know how to make the basics for me and my sisters. Hana here has significantly improved our instant ramen by adding fresh ingredients, which is genius. My sisters love her recipe,” he brags, glancing at you. 

“That’s nice to hear. Anyways, help yourself.”

Altogether, you clap your hands. “Thank you for the food!”

There’s a moment of silence while the four of you begin eating, only the tap of utensils on ceramic plates to occupy the silence. Takashi takes a of bite, commenting, “It’s delicious, Mrs. Shimizu.”

“Oh good. If you’d like, I can give you the recipe. Something new for you and your sisters to try at your house,” she offers. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.”

Your father suddenly speaks, startling the rest of you. “So, Mitsuya. That bike of yours. Do you have a license to drive that thing?”

You clench your jaw, nervous about the interrogation that’s about to occur between your father and your boyfriend. Takashi wipes his mouth with a napkin, clearing his throat, giving him his full attention. “Yes, sir. I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

Your father raises a brow at him, elbows propped on the surface, hands in prayer, tapping his fingertips to his chin. “Do you enjoy riding it? Seems dangerous if you ask me.”

You almost mutter, Nobody asked you, but you resist the temptation, stuffing your mouth with fish to prevent yourself from blurting anything out. Takashi seems to be handling well, explaining, “I only go the speed limit, sir. And I wear a helmet every time I ride, so it’s pretty safe.”

“And you’ve driven Hana on your motorbike several times already, haven’t you?” His brows are tight, scrutinizing and intimidating. 

“Yes, I have. She has her own helmet and I’m very cautious when she’s with me. Her safety is my top priority. It always will be.”

Your father hums, and you hope you’ve gotten past the worst of it, not expecting him to bring out the big guns. However, you soon find out that it’s far from over. “Are you in one of those biker gangs?”

“Dad!” you cry out, cheeks hot.

Even your mom interjects. “Honey!”

He doesn’t waver, waiting for Takashi’s answer. “Well?”

The smile on your boyfriend’s face drops, his expression more serious when he replies, “Yes, sir. I’m in the Tokyo Manji Gang.” He stutters a bit while adding, “I was one of the founding members.”

As if he cracked the code, your father nods, smirking in a wicked manner. “I’ve heard about them. I noticed your jacket a few times whenever you dropped my daughter off. Don’t think I didn’t do my research on you. I’m aware of your little gang, all the havoc you’ve caused throughout the years.” Your mom calls him by his first name, urging him to stop. He doesn’t relent. 

“I understand your concerns, sir. I won’t deny that I’ve been involved with violence in the past. But I’ve changed a lot since then. I don’t like fighting, I never have. I want a life outside of the gang, and I think I’m on my way there.”

“Oh? How so?” 

“Well, I want to be a fashion designer. I’m quite handy when it comes to sewing.”

“Are you planning on going to a university?”

“Vocational school. After graduation, I’ll be taking a year off to work at a local tailor to save some money for tuition. I’m applying to a school nearby, so that I can be here for my family. And for Hana.” He glances at you, smiling. You reach for him, holding his hand. 

Your father leans forward on the table, intrigued. “So, you’re aware that Hana is attending a university here in Tokyo.”

“Yes, I am, sir. And I know she’s going to study to be a teacher.”

“Yes, that’s right. That means she cannot afford any distractions from her studies.” 

Takashi places his palm over his chest. “I’ll make sure nothing gets in her way of that.” 

“You misunderstand. Boyfriends are a distraction.”

This time, you do interrupt. “Dad, Takashi hasn’t been a distraction for me so far, and he will never be a distraction. He helps me, he supports me. I’m happier because of him.” 

His voice is stern as he bangs a fist on a table, frustrated. “This boy is trouble. It doesn’t matter what he does in his spare time. Sewing, babysitting, I don’t care. At the end of the day, he’s a gang member. A delinquent. A punk.”

Tears well in your eyes, skin prickling with anger. Takashi gazes at his lap, at a loss for words. “How can you be so prejudiced?” you argue. “You don’t even know Takashi, yet you’re judging him. He’s been nothing but kind and sweet to me. It doesn’t matter to me that he’s in a gang, he’s important to me, and I won’t let you belittle him like this!” 

He stands up, throwing his napkin on the table, pointing his finger at you. “You are naïve, Hana! Disillusioned by this silly little fantasy of yours. I won’t let you ruin your life for someone like him. I just won’t!”

You’re on your feet, matching his expression. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Hana.” Takashi’s voice is quiet, the slightest tremble in it. He tugs on your wrist, urging you to calm down. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” you whine, cheeks wet with your tears. 

Takashi stands with you, taking a deep breath, directing his words towards your father. “You’re right. I am a gang member, a delinquent, a punk. It’s all true. There was a time that I would risk life and limb for the gang. I almost did after getting my skull fractured by a metal pipe in a fight. My mother and sisters were terrified, thinking they lost me.”

He swallows hard, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “And now with Hana in my life, I’m surer than ever what I need to do. I’m going to leave Toman. For good.”

~~~

It’s Friday night and Mitsuya sits in Draken’s kitchen, a devoured bowl of his friend’s homemade curry in front of him. Emma and Hana are inside the guest bedroom, which is slowly transforming into a nursery. He can hear his girlfriend’s sweet laughter at Emma’s weekly work drama while they assemble a crib that the expecting couple recently purchased. They had met no more than two hours ago, though it seems like they’ve already become fast friends. 

Mitsuya finishes recounting the drama from over a week ago. Draken stands up on the other side of the table, collecting the dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink. “So, what did the old man say after that?”

“Nothing. He ate the rest of the meal in silence. Her mom started rambling about some other stuff to lighten the mood and that was it.” He checks behind him on the two ladies, making sure they can’t hear him. In a hushed voice, he adds, “Hana hasn’t really spoken to him much since then. She said it’ll fizzle out eventually.” 

“Ah, I see.” Draken lets the water run, soaking the bowls. “Do you really mean it?”

“What?”

“Leaving Toman.”

There’s a heavy pause while he thoroughly contemplates his response. “Yeah, I do.”

At the time he announced it, his entire body was buzzing with emotion. It slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was actually saying. As the days passed, the more confidence he has gained about his decision. All the dreams he has for his future no longer revolve around Toman. And while he wants to remain loyal to his friends, his brothers, he figures he can do that without being involved in the gang anymore. He’s long grown tired of the unnecessary violence and drama.

“Wow,” Draken responds, whistling through his teeth. “Good for you, Taka.”

“How about you?” Mitsuya gets up, leaning against the counter, watching his friend. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

Draken focuses on scrubbing the dishes with a sponge. “Of course I do. But I can’t do that to Mikey.”

“Am I a bad friend?”

Draken stops the faucet, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel, turning to face him. He places a hand on his shoulder. “Not one bit. You should be happy. If this is something you have to do, then do it. You’ll always have our support. Me, Emma, and little Ken Junior.”

It takes a beat to realize his last words. “Wait, Ken Junior?”

Draken beams at him. “Yeah. We’re having a boy.”

They hug, Mitsuya patting Draken’s back extra hard, so excited that his cheeks hurt from smiling, tears welling in his eyes. “Fucking Ken Junior, holy shit.”

Draken sniffles, squeezing him in a tight embrace. “KJ, for short. Emma thinks it’s cute.”

They break apart, laughing. “It is. Does Mikey know?”

“Not yet. Emma finally managed to convince him to come over for dinner next Friday before the Toman meeting. Maybe you should come to, so you can leverage your bad news with our good news,” he jokes. 

“That’s not a bad idea.” A lightbulb shines in his mind, remembering what he overhead a couple of weeks ago at the arcade. “I almost forgot, I have something else to tell you.” 

After recapping the incident with Kisaki and Hanma, Draken stares at him, uneasy. “Are you sure they said that?”

“Positive. They’re trying to take out Mikey.” Admitting it out loud has Mitsuya’s throat dry, the seriousness of it all creating a sense of dread in his chest. This feeling hasn’t left since that day. Voice trembling, he adds, “They also threatened Hana.” 

Draken huffs. “Sons of bitches. I always knew they were scheming. I don’t know why Mikey even trusted them to begin with. We have to tell him. Who knows when they’re gonna go through with it? Could be today, could be tomorrow.”

“I don’t think it’d be random. Kisaki is trying to work his way up, get as close to Mikey as possible. Maybe even take over your spot.” 

“Mikey’s too smart to fall for that,” Draken states, dismissing the very idea of it. 

“I don’t know,” Mitsuya ponders, biting his lip. “Kisaki is in his good graces right now after all that shit with the Leviathans.”

With more conviction, Draken says, “It takes a lot more than that for Mikey to truly trust people. He probably already suspects Kisaki’s true intentions. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He’s always been a big believer in that.”

Having known Mikey for years, ever since they all first founded Toman together, Mitsuya reconsiders the current situation. Could Mikey’s icy behavior towards his real friends be part of a more elaborate plan to foil Kisaki and Hanma? Is it all an act to test the gang’s loyalties to him and to Toman? After all, their fearless leader has always been one for dramatics. “So should we tell him?”

“We’ll wait until Friday,” Draken suggests. “He’ll want to make a big show out of it, in front of everyone. Have dinner with us and tell Mikey everything, even the stuff about you wanting to quit. Yeah, he might be a little pissed, but once we tell him about Kisaki, he’ll have his fun and feel better.” He smiles at him reassuringly. “Mikey cares for you. We all do. Not because you’re in Toman. Because you’re you.”

Mitsuya’s been contemplating all week long about what he truly wants to do when it comes to his future. It’s terrifying to take that leap outside of what he grew up with and into the unknown. Sure, it’s easy to think that leaving the gang life is easy. For him, Toman has been his comfort. Brothers who protected him, supported him, even when his own family couldn’t. It was exciting, an escape from his less-than-glamorous life.

He doesn’t need that anymore. He has Hana and being in love with her is just as thrilling. The surge of adrenaline that rushes through him each time he touches her, kisses her, hears her voice. He has someone who loves him for all that he is, someone who will continue to love him no matter what. His fellow twin dragon reassuring him is exactly what he needs to solidify his decision. It’s time to move on.

~~~

There’s a palpable tension in the air as you walk into Takashi’s home, fully aware that you’re alone with one another the rest of the night. It’s the first time in a while that your boyfriend’s mother doesn’t have to work on the weekend, so she took this opportunity to bring the girls to their grandparents. Takashi was extended an invitation of course; he declined, wanting to spend some much-needed alone time with you. You’re nervous about staying the night with him though you can’t deny it any longer that you’ve been thinking about this next step in your relationship.

The same genuine smile is on his face when he welcomes you in with a big hug. “Hi,” he greets, kissing you. You drop your bag to wrap your arms around him, melting into his lips. The jitters you had on the way here soon fade as you relax into his embrace. You could stay like this forever, given the chance. He pulls away, cupping your cheek lovingly. “The pizza should be coming soon. Do you want to put your stuff in my room?”

You nod in response, watching him grab your bag, heart racing once more while he leads you by the hand into his bedroom. You’ve been in here before, but never like this. Never with the preface of something more intimate happening, and soon. You still haven’t spoken a single word to him and he senses your trepidation. “Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. 

Unconvincing, you reply, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” He plops down at the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. 

You sit, hands on your lap, twiddling your thumbs. “I’m a little nervous.”

He holds you, lacing his fingers with yours. “About what?”

You face him. “This.”

Understanding, he leans closer, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I’m nervous too. But you know what? You and I have all the time in the world. We can go at whatever pace we’re both comfortable with. If that means tonight, great. If that means years from now, that’s great too. I just want to be with you, like this.” He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing along your knuckles. 

Your heart swells in your chest, not from nerves this time. “I want to be with you too.”

There’s a slight hitch in his voice before he whispers, “I love you, Hana.” He swallows thickly, repeating himself more surely, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

It slips from your mouth easily, naturally. “I love you too, Takashi.” It’s a sentiment that’s been lingering on the tip of your tongue for a while now, and you’re relieved to finally let it out. Ecstatic that he feels the same way as you. 

You and Takashi eat pizza on the couch, laughing over silly stories until there are tears in your eyes and your stomachs hurt in the best way possible. After dinner, you get ready for bed, Takashi gushing about how adorable you are in your pajamas, scooting to one side of the bed to make room for you, instantly cuddling you once you’re in. Moonlight streams dimly through his window, enough for you to see the soothing lavender in his eyes as the two of you stay up a few more hours talking about anything and everything. 

It gets close, almost too close. Chaste kisses that leave the both of you breathless and clearly aroused. Lingering touches, grazes of bare skin, I love you chanted over and over again. But you don’t consummate your relationship tonight. Instead, you fall asleep snuggled together, completely committed to one another for the rest of your lives. And somehow, this seems more intimate than anything else. 

~~~

Another week passes and Mitsuya finds himself once again at Draken’s for dinner on a Friday night. However, the setting is a bit different than usual: the notoriously absent and distant Mikey Sano has joined them. 

The obviously tension is quickly dismissed when Emma makes her important announcement to her brother, who reacts accordingly. After being cold and lifeless to those around him, Mikey sheds his frigid demeanor and cracks the first genuine smile they’ve all seen from him in months. “A baby?” he repeats, almost in disbelief, studying his sister’s tummy, which is starting to show signs of pregnancy. 

“A baby boy, Mikey. You’re going to have a nephew!” she says, tearing up. She holds out the sonogram to him. 

Mikey laughs softly, shaking his head, inspecting the picture. “I can’t believe my little sister is going to have a baby. And with this guy of all people,” he jokes, pointing at the man beside him.

“Hey!” Draken yelps, shoving his arm playfully. “I’ve been doing a damn good job so far providing for your pregnant sister while you’ve been off gallivanting with the Leviathans.”

Mikey’s expression sullens, realizing how accurate that is. “You’re right. I should have been here for you, Emma. I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?” Draken prods, focusing his attention on him. “Come on, Mikey. We’re your friends. Your family. You can talk to us.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, taking his time to ultimately ignore him and deflect the attention to someone else. “What’s Mitsuya doing here anyways? Don’t tell me he’s gotten someone pregnant too.”

Mitsuya’s alarmed at the sudden spotlight. Chuckling nervously, he replies, “No one else is pregnant, don’t worry.”

“Though he did snag himself a sweetheart, didn’t you, Takashi?” Emma nudges him, grinning. 

“Oh?” Mikey raises a brow, curious.

He waves them off, embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s true, but that’s not why I’m here.” He clears his throat, ready to explain. “Mikey, there’s something you should know about Kisaki and Hanma.”

Mikey listens intently as he recalls the incident from a couple of weeks ago, fresh in his memory. He doesn’t interrupt and his expression remains neutral. When he’s done, Mikey sits in silence, processing this new information carefully. Eventually, he utters a single word. “Interesting.”

Draken’s face contorts into a grimace, unsatisfied with his friend’s reaction, or lack thereof. “That’s all you have to say?”

Mikey shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “What else should I say?”

“Kisaki is trying to get rid of you. Aren’t you upset?” Mitsuya asks, bothered by his cavalier attitude.

He smirks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch on to that motherfucker’s plan?” 

Draken barks a laugh, slapping Mikey’s back jovially. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! Didn’t I tell you, Mitsuya?!”

Mitsuya relaxes, smiling at the two of them. “So you knew about Kisaki this whole time?”

“The Leviathans aren’t as loyal to him as he thinks they are,” Mikey explains. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wasn’t sure who to trust. At first,” he answers. 

Draken raises his voice. “You doubted us? After everything we’ve been through –”

“I know. I know, Draken.” His gaze lingers on the sonogram of his soon-to-be-nephew. “It took a while to come back to my senses, but I did. I’m sorry.”

“What about Emma? Why have you been ignoring her?”

Mikey gulps loudly, staring directly at his sister. “I wanted to protect you, so I distanced myself. I didn’t want Kisaki or Hanma thinking I was close to you.” He reaches out to hold her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Emma sniffs, wiping tears away from her eyes with her free hand. “It’s okay, Mikey. I’m just happy to have you back.”

“I promise I’ll be around more, for you and the baby,” he says, smiling at her. 

Mitsuya’s chest is heavy with emotion, happy to see his friend has returned to his normal self, anxious about the news that’s been weighing on his mind lately. He doesn’t want to put a damper on this joyous moment, but Draken doesn’t give him much of a choice when he announces, “Mitsuya has something else he wants to tell you.”

Mikey focuses his attention once more on him. “What is it, Takashi?”

He takes a deep breath, trying not to let his nerves prevent him from doing this. “I’m leaving Toman.”

Mikey blinks at him several times, processing, then his expression softens. “Is this because of this new sweetheart of yours?”

“It’s not just her,” Mitsuya explains. “It’s time for me to move on. Pursue my dreams of becoming a fashion designer. I can’t do that if I’m active in the gang.” He looks down at his lap, avoiding whatever reaction is on Mikey’s face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s silent for a few moments and Mitsuya is convinced that his friend is ready to shun him for the rest of his life. When he hears his soft voice, he looks up, relieved that he isn’t yelling or glaring daggers into his soul. “You don’t have to apologize, Takashi. It’s alright.”

“It is?” 

“Of course it is. We’re brothers. I’ll support you no matter what you decide. And if that means leaving Toman, so be it. It’s tough losing another founding member, but if this is what’s best for you, I have no choice but to be okay with it.” He grins at the picture in front of him. “Besides, there will be a new little one coming soon. Who knows? He could be my successor.”

Emma giggles nervously, not fond of the idea. “Let’s hold off on that for a while longer, shall we?”

It’s almost too good to be true, the way the stars have aligned just right for Mitsuya. His dreams are this much closer to becoming a reality. He’s got everyone in his corner with his entire future ahead of him, brighter and more tangible than it’s ever been before. 

With everything finally out in the open, they’re able to enjoy a relaxing meal, courtesy of Draken, who cooks a delicious dinner for them. Mikey catches up with Emma and Draken on their journey to become parents and Mitsuya shares in small detail about his serious relationship with Hana. 

When they’re done, the three men ride out together towards the shrine, nostalgia hitting Mitsuya hard and directly in his heart. This very well may be the last time he rides with them like this. It’s almost enough to change his mind about leaving. Almost. They’re no longer kids anymore, and he’s learned to be okay with that. 

They have a vague idea of how Mikey’s going to proceed with Kisaki and Hanma, but of course, there’s always something unexpected when it comes to Mikey. After the usual announcements, he calls out for the two to join him front and center. They’re surprised by the unexpected attention, unsure what Mikey could possibly be recognizing them for. 

Mikey’s voice is calm at first. “I want to take this moment to recognize these two, Shuji Hanma and Tetta Kisaki. I trusted them to infiltrate the Leviathans and they did so successfully.” There’s a hesitant round of applause from the confused crowd. 

Mitsuya notices the obvious buzz coming from the Leviathans gathered near the back but resists the urge to turn around to inspect. Takemitchy nudges him, whispering, “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” Mitsuya responds.

Mikey continues. “Most of you may not know this, but I’ve grown a bit closer to the Leviathans myself. I wanted to gain their trust, since we were previously rivals. You see, trust is very important to me and very important to Toman. It’s one of the foundations that keeps a brotherhood together, don’t you agree, Kisaki?”

Kisaki’s shoves his glasses up his nose, suspicious of what’s happening. He nods, silently agreeing with him.

Mikey’s voice gets louder. “That’s why when someone breaks my trust, it’s hard for me to look pass that.” He directs his attention to Kisaki, eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that right, Kisaki?”

Hanma interjects, rolling his eyes, impatient with all the banter. “What the hell is this about, Mikey?”

“I’m expelling you both from the gang. Your Toman memberships are revoked immediately.”

There’s a collection of gasps and chatter, mostly everyone surprised by the sudden expulsion of the two captains who were previously praised just weeks before. Draken remains calm next to Mikey, occasionally glancing at Hanma, who flashes a creepy smile on his face, unfazed.

Kisaki yells, “What?! You can’t be serious!”

“Does this sound like a joke to you?” Mikey replies, stone-cold. 

Kisaki throws his hands up in the air, outraged. “What did I do?” 

Mikey walks up to him, nearly nose-to-nose. “You know what you did. Did you really think you could plot to take me out without anyone warning me about it first? Who do you think you are? Have you forgotten who I am?”

“I never did anything like that!” he argues, desperation laced in his tone. “You’re going to trust these nobodies instead of me?! I joined Toman to help you, Mikey. Everything I do is for your sake. Together, we can make Toman the most powerful gang in all of Tokyo. You need me!”

Mikey grabs him by the collar roughly. “I don’t need any part of you. I never have. Now get out of my sight.” He let’s go of him, waiting for them to leave. People from the crowd shout their support of Mikey’s decision, subsequently adding in their malice towards the two ex-Toman members. Hanma has yet to react properly to the situation, seemingly finding this entire altercation amusing, an eerie smirk on his face with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. When they refuse to leave, four burly brothers escort them out. Kisaki is in hysterics, continuing to blab on and on about how much Toman is going to suffer without him. 

Hanma finally speaks when he passes by Mitsuya. “You’re going to regret this,” he threatens loudly to no one in particular, yet Mitsuya has this awful sense that it may be towards him. He bursts into a maniacal cackle as he’s shoved towards the exit, his wicked laughter still ringing in Mitsuya’s ear even when they’re completely gone. 

[ladymunson]

The Boardroom 18+

Fic Summary: After your encounter with Bucky in his house you’re surprised to find out he’s your new boss. His assistant Mary is about to retire and he’s looking for a someone new to take the position. Another co-worker has her sights on the job but Bucky only has eyes for you, much to her chagrin.

A/N: Thank you for the support for part one and sorry it’s taken so long to post part two. I really wanted to get this right.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, sex in the workplace, unequal power dynamic, drama.

Word count: 2803

Previous | Next

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by reblogging

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

“Y/N wait!” Bucky calls out as you leave the meeting room. You stop and turn around as everyone else files out. Angela gives you the evil eye as she walks past.

“Yes sir?” You say, not making eye contact.

“Please don’t do that. I’m so sorry, I had no idea you worked here.” He says.

“What happened between us will not happen again.” You say in a hushed voice. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment. I’m also going to invest in some blinds, it’s not appropriate for that to continue.”

Six weeks later

“Hey there y/n” your college Mary, Bucky’s personal assistant says as you’re pouring your morning coffee. “Do you have a minute to talk in my office?”

“Of course!” You say as you follow her. Her office is decorated in florals and pastels, very feminine but homely.

“Please shut the door hon.” Mary says, your stomach drops. Are you in trouble? You shut the door and proceed to her desk. “Take a seat.” You oblige and sit down, your heart pumping wildly and your palms beginning to sweat.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Everything is wonderful actually, no one knows this yet but I’m retiring at the end of the month.” Mary says with a smile.

“What?!” You say open mouthed. “Why? And why are you telling me before anyone else?”

“Well… someone needs to replace me as Mr Barnes assistant and I wanted to offer the position to you before I announce.”

“Me?!” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve seen how much of a hard worker you are, even though you’ve not been here long. I see you take great care and pride in everything you do and that’s exactly what this job needs.”

“Doesn’t this need to go through HR first?”

Mary sighs. “I’d rather not, I already know that everyone who applies will get turned down.” You raise your eyebrow in question. “Angela set her sights on James the moment she found out he was taking over from his father. She would instantly put herself in the position, and attempt to put herself in his bed. He’s like my nephew and I just couldn’t let that harpy get to him.”

“If he wanted to bed her, then that‘s his decision.” You reply.

“He doesn’t want to y/n but she won’t take no for an answer, she’s tried to get her claws into him for the past three years when he’s attended company functions with his father. I really want you to take this job, not just because you’re a great worker but you’re also professional.”

“Can I think about it?”

Five days later

“Why did you pick her for the job? What has she got that I don’t?!” Angela pouts as she confronts Mary in her office after the announcement of her retirement.

“I would say it’s nothing personal Angela but that would be a lie. I made my decision, you need to respect it.” Mary replies as she folds her arms across her chest.

Angela scoffs, “We’ll see how long she lasts, Bucky can be SO demanding.” She smirks before exiting Mary’s office.

Mary let’s out a sigh before picking up the phone and dialling Bucky’s number.

“Barnes.” He answers.

“James we have a problem.”

“Let me guess, Angela?” He responds.

“She’s gonna make y/n’s life miserable…”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next morning

“What’s this?” You ask as Bucky hands you a brand new smartphone.

“I’ll need to be able to get ahold of you at all times and all instructions and duties will come from this new number. If anyone tells you I’ve asked you to do something, you can ask me on this number. And don’t tell anyone about it, except Mary.”

“Why would…? Ah. Angela?” You ask. Bucky nods and leaves your office.

One week later

Bucky- I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight, we have a meeting.

You- How late?

Bucky- Meeting is at 8pm.

You’re thirty minutes early for the meeting, training as Bucky’s assistant has been gruelling but tonight, you have to set up the conference room. Having this meeting at 8pm means you skipped dinner to be here, it’s that important. If you can land this contract it will be a huge thing for the company, there may even be a pay rise in it for some of us.

You place your bag on a chair and get to work. You use the key to open the supply cupboard and take out a brand new pack of note pads and a new box of pens. You open the note pads and place one on the table in front of every chair and a pen on top of each pad. Next are the water glasses which you place around the table, the refrigerator in the corner of the room is stocked with bottles of water which will be distributed when the meeting begins.

You hear Bucky come into the office, so you quickly grab your bag and run into the ladies room. In the bathroom you change from flats into heels and check your hair. The elegant chignon from this morning has lost its setting so you decide to remove the clips, letting it loose and cascading around your shoulders. You grab my brush out of your bag and run it through your hair, the chignon has left your hair with a bouncy curl which looks really cute. You check your dress, making sure there are no stains on the white of the fabric. Once satisfied you grab a lipstick out of your bag and apply the dusky rose colour to your lips. You usually wear nude lipstick to the office but changed your bag this morning, leaving this colour as your only choice. The colour isn’t very bold which is great so it will do.

You exit the bathroom and head back to the conference room, passing by his office quickly. “Y/N?” You hear him call.

“Yes Mr Barnes” you reply from the conference room doorway.

“Can you please make sure there are note pads and pens around the table? And make sure you set out a place for yourself, I need you to stay and take notes for me.” He calls from his office.

“Pads and pens already set out sir and I’ll add a place for me.”

“Thank you!”

You head to your office and grab your iPad, taking notes on that will be much easier. Then you head back to the conference room and place it at the end of the table, opposite his place. You also get yourself a glass.

He walks into the room, looking at his phone “Y/N they’re arriving now, is everything...?” He trails off as he looks up at you, his mouth slightly gaped. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down at the office... pretty” That last word sounded like it should’ve been a personal thought but you don’t draw attention to it.

“Thank you sir. Is there anything else you need before the elevator arrives?” You ask. He shakes his head as you hear the ding and the doors open.

“James...” the first man exiting the elevator says, extending his hand to him.

He shakes his hand. “How are you Bob?” Several other people get out of the elevator behind Mr Kellerman, he always travels with an entourage.

“Can’t complain. Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” Mr Kellerman walks into the conference room and takes a seat in the middle of the table with his back to the window. His assistant Ms Deacon sits to his right and the other members of the party take seats around the table. You get up from your place at the table and get the bottles of water out of the refrigerator, handing them out.

You can feel someone looking at you, like their eyes are boring through you. You ignore it before taking a seat and opening the notes app on your iPad.

The meeting gets underway, you follow everything that’s being said, writing in code so you can interpret them later.

As you listen to Bucky speak, you realise how incredibly sexy his voice is, shifting slightly in your seat and noticing the dampness in your panties. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you try to erase the thoughts of him slamming you up against the wall and taking you hard and fast out of your mind. You open your eyes and look up straight into his baby blues, you feel the dampness grow as your eyes lock, the small moan he lets out causing you to soak your panties.

You stand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, may I be excused?” You ask.

He licks his lips and nods his head. You head to the bathroom, stepping into the stall and locking the door behind you. You lean against it, “fuck!” You whisper as you shimmy out of your underwear. You have no spares in your bag so you’re gonna have to go without underwear.

You throw the panties on the floor behind the toilet to collect later and flush, stepping out of the cubicle and washing your hands.

When you get back in the conference room, they all have beaming smiles. “What did I miss?”

He smiles at you. “We reached an agreement to combine our companies!” You smile and clap.

“That’s fantastic! I’m looking forward to working with you Mr Kellerman.” You respond as you shake his hand.

“I might have to steal your new assistant away from you James, she’s marvellous. And may I say very easy on the eye!”

“Y/N will be staying here Bob” he chuckles and waves goodbye, his fans following suit. The elevator doors close and Bucky lets out a huge sigh.

You’re already clearing up the table when he comes back in. Gasping at the sight of you bending over it. You hear footsteps behind you but you don’t turn, thinking he is going to help clean up.

He stands behind you, eyeing up your ass bent over the table. You move slightly on your feet and he moans. Thoughts race through your mind, should I? You take a deep breath and move back ever so slightly until your ass grazes him, you feel his erection straining through his pants. He groans and reaches out, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him. You gasp.

“Mr Barnes!” He thrusts his hips forward, jerking you upright. He spins you around and grabs the back of your head, possessing your mouth with his.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth. You return his kiss as he grabs your ass, lifting you onto the table, opening your legs and moving between them. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and continues the kiss, loosening his tie before removing it. Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, undoing them quickly, eager to get him shirtless. You pull his shirt off of his shoulders and throw it across the room. Then unbutton his pants, pushing them down, freeing his raging hard on. He steps out of them and moves them out of the way.

Bucky’s hand slips up your dress, he moans as he finds you bare pussy, wet and ready. He pulls you to your feet and reaches around to the back of your dress to undo the zipper, slipping it down your arms and watching it fall to the floor below you. He lifts you back onto the table and kicks the dress away, his hands caressing your breasts as he kisses you again.

He pushes you onto your back and kneels, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He blows gently, making you sigh in pleasure, then kisses your inner thighs. Before placing his entire mouth over your mound, sucking hard. You moan and groan, your head rolling side to side as you play with your breasts.

Bucky releases your pussy from his mouth and licks his lips. He opens you up with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your hard bud. “Ohhhhh... fuck!” You moan out, as his tongue continues it’s relentless flicking over your clit. You can feel an orgasm building deep inside you, your pussy creaming at the thought of an orgasm. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks, gently flicking his tongue over your bean. Your hand reaches down and grabs the back of Bucky’s head, grinding your pussy on his face, chasing your orgasm. It hits hard, making your hips jerk involuntarily and your toes curl. You ride the waves of pleasure, body convulsing in climax, his tongue still licking as the spasms subside.

Bucky stands, evidence of your orgasm running down his chin. You sit up and pull him to you, kissing him passionately, tasting yourself on his kiss.

You jump down off the table, your juices running down your legs as you kneel in front of him. Licking the precum off of his cock, then lifting his cock up to lick from his balls up the underside of his cock to the tip and back down again. You repeat that three times before taking his cock in your mouth, taking it to the back of your throat. His hand grips the back of your head and holds you in place as he shoves his cock in and out of your mouth. He groans as you suck his cock, he grabs ahold of your hair and pulls you to your feet.

Bucky spins you around, bending you over the table and wets the tip of his cock with your slick before sliding inside you. He grabs your hips and begins moving in and out. Your breasts are pressed against the table, hands splayed out in front of you as his hips thrust hard, he grunts as you use your inner muscles to squeeze around his cock.

That releases Bucky’s inner beast and he reaches out with his left hand to grab your hair, pulling you back into him hard. His right hand spanking your ass, leaving red hand prints as his relentless fucking almost splits you in two. You moan again and again as he pounds you, he reaches around to grab you throat making you cum hard around his cock. He chokes you as his fucking becomes primal, you can tell he’s seconds away from coming.

“Fuck me Sir!” You shout, he growls as his orgasm hits and he shoots his load into you, before it drips out and onto the conference room floor.

He turns your head to kiss you, breathing hard. “Well... that was unexpected”

You giggle. “Yes it was Sir” He spins you around and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your back. Compared to how he just fucked you, this was intimate, sweet.

“I’d like to do that again if you’re interested.” He says as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Now?” You ask.

“No not right now, but again. And again.” He says as he bends to pick up his pants and your dress. He throws your dress onto the table next to you.

“We really shouldn’t!” You reply, “Even if I really want to.” He smiles and get begins to get dressed. You sit on the table and watch him before starting to get dressed yourself.

“I’ve changed my mind...” Bucky says. You sigh, disappointed. “Yes now” You look confused. “I’m going to fuck you again, right now!” He grabs the dress out of your hands and throws it to the end of the table and steps between your legs. He grabs your head and kisses you deeply as he spears your still dripping pussy with his cock.

You let out a moan, he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, then your legs around his waist.

“Hold on tight!” He says as he begins thrusting his hips hard, making you bounce off the table. He kisses you passionately as he pounds into you, chasing his orgasm...

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: @jobean12-blog @eddiesprincess86 @bettyfrommars @pattiemac1 @jadeylovesmarvelxo @existenciosa

[roseyreveries]

Far Away - 4

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Muggle!Reader Previous Part <- click! Summary: You wake up inside the Harry Potter universe without any explanation as to why you're there. Disclaimer: All characters are being aged up for PLOT (1st years are 15, 7th years are 21) but characters may act immature and childish in the beginning at times to keep their character development. Not accurate to the books or movies. A/N: okay, all parts from now on are going to be in the regular font because if I put it in the chat font (the font this A/N is written in) Tumblr won't let me post long parts. CW: drinking, partying, dares Directory <- click!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

“You’ll see,” Lila said with a wink, yanking the door open. The music hit us instantly— a pulsing rhythm that made the floor vibrate. Voices shouted over the beat, laughter rang out, and the smell of something sugary and spiced wafted down the corridor.

The common room was alive.

When they stepped into the room, the sight was straight out of a party movie. Someone had enchanted green and silver lights to dance across the walls, casting an otherworldly glow over the space. The tables were piled with snacks and drinks— some magical, some very clearly not Hogwarts-approved. A group of students had pushed the couches aside to create a makeshift dance floor, and even the normally aloof seventh years were swaying to the music.

“Surprised?” Lila asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, watching my wide-eyed reaction.

“This… is not what I expected,” I admitted, torn between awe and sheer nervousness.

Lila chuckled, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, newbie. You can’t just stand here gawking. Let’s mingle.”

I stumbled after her as Lila navigated the chaos like she’d done it a hundred times before. A few students turned to look at us, but most were too busy having a good time to care.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, raising my voice over the music.

“Start of term,” Lila said with a shrug. “We like to set the tone early. Let everyone know Slytherin knows how to live.”

I hesitated as Lila reached for two butterbeer bottles on the table, handing one over with a knowing smirk.

“Relax,” Lila said. “You’re one of us now. Might as well enjoy it.”

I took the bottle and sipped cautiously, my tension easing a little with the warmth of the drink. “This is… not bad.”

“See? Told you,” Lila said, clinking her bottle against mine. “Now let’s find you someone to talk to before you chicken out and bolt back to the dorm.”

“I wasn’t going to bolt,” I protested, but Lila just laughed, already pulling me toward a group of students arguing over who cast the best Silencing Charm last year.

I was just starting to relax, the warmth of the butterbeer and Lila’s sarcastic commentary easing my nerves. I let myself be led around the room, meeting a few other students and even laughing at a particularly dramatic recount of someone’s summer holiday escapades. The party felt almost… fun.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

As I turned to follow Lila through the crowd, I collided with something— or rather, someone. Hard. My butterbeer sloshed out of the bottle, splattering all over the front of a perfectly tailored black robe.

“What the bloody hell—” a sharp, cold voice hissed.

I looked up and instantly regretted every life choice that had led me to this moment. Standing in front of me, staring down with a look that could freeze fire, was none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Are you completely blind, or just unbelievably stupid?” he snapped, his pale eyes narrowing into icy slits.

My heart raced, but instead of cowering, I squared my shoulders. I wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t stand in the middle of the room like you own it.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “That’s because I do. Unlike you, new girl, who clearly doesn’t belong here.”

“Oh, I belong just fine,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “Sorry if your little superiority complex can’t handle sharing the space.”

Draco stepped closer, his gaze sharp and assessing, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be furious or amused. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you? Let me guess—Dumbledore’s latest charity case? That would explain a lot.”

My jaw tightened, my hands curling into fists. “You’re right— he did bring me here. Probably because he saw something worth value. Which is more than I can say for you.”

A flicker of something crossed Draco’s face— surprise, maybe? But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual disdain. “You’re going to regret saying that,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Is that a threat?” I asked, my tone steady, though my heart was hammering. “Because I don’t scare that easily, Malfoy.”

The tension crackled between us, the air heavy with unspoken challenges. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had disappeared, the party fading into the background as our eyes locked.

Draco’s lips twitched, as if he were fighting back a smirk. “You’re either very brave or very foolish,” he murmured, almost to himself. “We’ll see which soon enough.”

“Try me,” I said, refusing to back down.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Lila’s voice cut in sharply, breaking the moment. She appeared at my side, gripping my arm and shooting Draco a glare. “Y'know you're new too, Malfoy. Just because you're royalty doesn't mean shit.”

Draco’s smirk finally broke through, though it was anything but kind. “I’ll be seeing you, newbie,” he said, his tone mocking as he turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Well, that went great,” I muttered.

Lila dragged me toward the quieter corner of the room, shaking her head. “Are you trying to make enemies, or is that just a natural talent of yours?”

“I didn’t start it,” I defended. “He was being—”

“Draco Malfoy,” Lila interrupted with a sigh. “Yeah, I know. I've been dealing with his shit since we were in diapers. But word of advice? Maybe don’t try to take him on during your first week here. He’s dangerous.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous how?”

Lila hesitated, then shrugged. “In the ‘he’s got power and knows how to use it’ way. Just… be careful, okay? I don’t want to have to dig you out of trouble.”

I nodded, though my mind was still replaying the encounter. I'd never met anyone quite like Draco Malfoy— cold, calculating, and yet somehow magnetic in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

“Come on,” Lila said, nudging me. “Let’s get you another drink before you pick a fight with the entire house.”

Before we could leave anywhere however, a voice rang out above the music, amplified by a Sonorus charm.

“All right, you snakes, shut it for a second!” It was a tall, third-year boy standing on one of the tables, his grin wide and mischievous. “You know what time it is— First Year Initiation! Get up here, newbies!”

The room erupted in cheers and jeers, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as a handful of wide-eyed first years were pushed to the center, including me. I barely had time to process what was happening before I was dragged forward, Lila shoving me along with an infuriatingly gleeful laugh.

“Lila!” I hissed, trying to pull back. “What the hell—”

“Relax,” Lila said, giving me a nudge. “It’s tradition. Just go with it, newbie.”

I wasn’t alone, though the sight of a scowling Draco Malfoy being shoved into the circle made my stomach flip. He looked every bit as annoyed as I felt, his sharp glare cutting through the room as if daring anyone to laugh at him. Unfortunately for him, it only made the older students laugh harder.

“Look at that,” one of the seventh years said with a smirk, pointing at Draco. “Even the mighty Malfoy can’t escape tradition.”

“What’s the ritual?” I whispered to Lila, who was conveniently standing just outside the circle and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“You’ll see,” she said, not bothering to hide her amusement.

“Alright, firsties!” the third-year announcer said, clapping his hands. “The rules are simple. You’ve gotta pair up— don’t care who— and then complete the challenge. Fail, and you’re cleaning up the common room tomorrow. Succeed, and you’re officially one of us.”

I groaned internally. Of course it would be something ridiculous. As the other first years began pairing off, I felt a familiar presence beside her. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“Don’t even think about it,” Draco said coldly, his voice low and full of warning.

“Trust me, Malfoy, you’re the last person I’d want to pair with,” I shot back, equally annoyed.

“Five seconds!” the announcer called out. “If you don’t have a partner, you’re automatically cleaning duty!”

I turned, realizing with mounting dread that everyone else had already paired off. Of course. I locked eyes with Draco, who looked equally displeased.

“Fantastic,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

I didn’t even have time to respond before the announcer clapped his hands again. “Your challenge: Polyjuice Potion Truth or Dare!”

The crowd roared in approval, and my stomach dropped.

“Here’s how it works,” the announcer explained. “We’ve got a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion— don’t worry, it’s temporary. Each pair picks a random vial containing hair from someone in this room. You drink, you transform, and then your partner gets to dare you or ask a question. You chicken out, you lose. Got it?”

I glanced at Draco, who looked like he was on the verge of murdering someone. “This is ridiculous,” he snapped.

“Welcome to Slytherin,” the announcer said cheerfully, shoving a vial into Draco’s hand and another into mine. “Drink up, you two.”

I sighed, shooting Draco a glare. “Well, bottoms up.”

Wedowned the potion simultaneously, the taste making megag. Within moments, my body began to twist and morph, my reflection in a nearby mirror shifting into a familiar face.

“Lila?!” I exclaimed, my voice now an exact replica of my roommate’s.

Draco, meanwhile, had turned into a gangly third-year boy with a mop of curly hair. The laughter from the crowd was deafening.

“This is ridiculous,” Draco hissed again, now in a much deeper voice, glaring at his own reflection.

The announcer grinned wickedly. “Alright, Lila 2.0, you get to dare Draco Lite first. What’s it gonna be?”

I crossed my arms, a mischievous smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “Fine. I dare you, Malfoy, to—” I paused for dramatic effect, watching his narrowed eyes. “—sing the Hogwarts school song. Loudly.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Draco’s pale face flushed— though whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

“You’ve got to be joking,” he said, his tone deadly.

“Nope,” I replied sweetly. “Or you can clean the common room tomorrow. Your choice.”

The tension between us was palpable, the air charged with unspoken challenges. For a moment, it looked like he might refuse— but then, with a glare that promised retribution, Draco stepped forward.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But you’ll regret this.”

His rendition of the school song was stilted, his voice dripping with sarcasm and annoyance, but it only made the crowd cheer louder. When he was finished, the room erupted into applause, and Draco spun to face me.

“My turn,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Truth or dare?”

I hesitated, but there was no way I was backing down now. “Dare.”

Draco’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. “I dare you to tell the entire room what you really think of me.”

The crowd fell silent, and my pulse quickened. The tension crackled like electricity as I met his piercing gaze.

“Fine,” I said, lifting my chin. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re arrogant, entitled, and way too used to getting your way.”

The crowd gasped, laughter and murmurs rippling through the room, but I wasn’t finished. “But… I also think there’s more to you than that. And maybe one day, you’ll actually let someone see it.”

Draco’s smirk faltered, his expression unreadable. Before either of us could say another word, Lila burst into the circle, pulling me back.

“Alright, that’s enough drama for one night,” she said with a grin, though her eyes flicked between the two of us curiously. “Come on, newbie. Let’s get you out of the spotlight.”

As I let myself be dragged away, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Draco’s eyes still on me, his expression a mix of anger and something I couldn’t quite place.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

Read the next part here! Join my Taglist! @ferntv @Katie_kinz @forever-living-in-my-head

[jessicafangirl]

Creatures of the Night

I got this inspiration of what would happen if Papa Copia decided to take his little ghoulians out for trick or treat on Halloween. It's fluffy wuffy goodness and I will take every opportunity to put Copia into a cape. So...there. Yes, I'm still working on my main Ghost fic, but this wouldn't stop poking at my brain. Enjoy a meet cute and cute ghoulies.

Halloween was always a special time of year for the Ministry. It started early of course because the spirit was in full swing.

Papa Emeritus IV loved this holiday as did all the previous Papa's, perhaps more than most. He was a dyed in the blood horror movie fan and seeing all the creature feature marathons, the ghouls and goblins up and down the city streets, and the excited faces of the siblings as they decorated always made him happy.

But what was one of his favorite parts of the holiday was being the chaperone for the youngsters of the church and the young ghoulians who were always excited to get outside without having to hide their faces. Their masks were the lack of them, and they were adorable with their tiny fangs and bright eyes.

Now as Papa he didn't know if he'd get to this part of the tradition as he had more work on his plate and a now famous visage in face paint across the world. But Copia had a plan...and he was Papa, wasn't he? He could make, what was it...an executive decision.

Though Sister wasn't thrilled with the idea (You're taking two of the grown ghouls with you Cardi!) Copia came up with a similar form of camouflage as the ghoulians...his lack of his mask would be his disguise.

Although he was rather proud of the fact so many of his fans and followers dolled themselves up in his paints during the holiday, he didn't want to risk being recognized. Not that he didn't love his fans etc. but it was about the kiddos, and he selfishly wanted to watch their fun first hand. So Copia dug into his closet and found his cape. He dressed in his tight (maybe more so that day) black dress pants, donned a black frilly shirt from the tour and went full on vampire with his makeup, adding a dramatic little line of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.   The design he created was one similar to his old Cardinal paints with a bit more bat involved.

"Blah!" he said to the vampire in the mirror...which wouldn't make him much of a vampire come to think of it, "Ehehhehe...this works". With the gloves his look was complete. He'd even added a bit of black to his hair, not that the grey and silver peppering wasn't sexy and distinguished in its own right. But the black added to the whole vampire mystique and his alter ego. And well...just his ego.

The night of trick or treating came.  Copia and his group of two adult ghouls, 3 young human children and 3 little ghoulians walked through the leaf covered streets of the small town outside of the Abbey.  It was a crisp night with Halloween decorations all around and the laughing voices of children and those who still felt like they were children in the air.  Woodsmoke from chimneys mixed with the breeze as twilight fell way to the full velvet of night.  Copia was, for lack of a better word, in his version of heaven. 

There was a small-town square area where vendors had set up kettle corn, apple cider, and apple cider doughnuts for sale.  The children, who had already filled their skull shaped buckets full of candy, were begging Copia for some of the food.  Copia was a soft touch if ever there was one, and even though one of the adult ghouls was shaking their head, Copia quickly gave each of his charges five dollars to go splurge.  He turned to the ghoul.  “I’m Papa, it’s my job to spoil them.”

Even though all the eyes of the chaperones were on the little trick or treaters, ghoulians were quick and notoriously curious about the human world.  As such, one of them got separated from the group.  The little girl ghoul was dressed like a gothic ballerina, a lacy black tutu and black crystal tiara in her hair.  Her skin was light grey, and her teeth were sharper than a normal little girls.  With her long black eyelashes she looked like a beautiful vampiric fairy. 

The little ghoul found her way over to another small group of human children.  Two adult women stood with the kids, one dressed like a pink princess and the other far more in the spirit of what the little ghoul was wearing.  Black lace, pale make up, and dangling bat earrings. 

It was the woman dressed in black lace that saw the little ghoul first, the telltale powdered sugar of doughnuts standing out on her black dress and tutu.  The little girl looked lost, her big dark eyes searching around and getting glossy with near tears. 

“Hey Valerie, I’ll catch up with you guys…I think this little girl is lost.”  She called to her friend who was the actual mom of half the kids, the rest school mates who had found them.

Valerie nodded her blonde head, nearly knocking her own tiara off.  “Oh, okay…hey call me if you need help Kris.” 

Kris gave her a thumbs up and walked over to the little ghoul.  “Hey kiddo…are you okay?”  She asked her. 

The little ghoulie chewed on her lower lip with her sharp teeth.  She didn’t know where Papa or the others were but maybe this sister could help her.  Concentrating she managed to whisper out “Lost…” 

Kris felt that tiny word right in her heart.  The poor kid.  “Okay, I’m going to help you find your folks, alright?” 

The little ghoul nodded.  The lady held out her hand and the little one placed her small grey fingers into it. 

“Did you go to the food trucks?”  She asked her, pointing to the sugar on the front of her clothes.  The ghoulian nodded. 

“Alright, lets start there.”  Kris headed in that direction, the little ghoul in tow who now felt a little better.

At that moment though, Papa Emeritus IV was feeling nowhere near better.  He and his ghouls had realized they were short one child and were frantic.  Copia knew Sister would have his hide quite literally if they couldn’t find the little one without some additional help.  He and the two adult ghouls split up, each taking a couple of the kids with them to ensure no others were missing in action.

After a search that went nowhere Copia and his charges returned back to the food area, only hoping that the ghouls would do better.  The little human and ghoul who were with him could tell their Papa was sad and they were worried about their friend too.  Each of them reached into their buckets and pulled out one of the best pieces of candy they could find and offered it to Copia with big eyes.  “Here Papa,” the little boy who was dressed as a skeleton said.  “Candy always makes me feel better.”

Copia gave his tiny tesoro’s a sad smile.  “Grazie but I will not take your candy.  You earned those dolci.  Your Pappa is not deserving of it.”

They both pouted at him, the little ghoulian in his knight costume looking at his skeleton companion and nearly starting to cry.  Copia wouldn’t be able to keep it together if both of these children started crying.  He’d end up crying too.  Some creature of the night he was.  Some Papa.  Before he could spiral into a full-on depression and an anxiety attack though a little voice cried out “Papa!”

Copia looked up and saw his missing charge running towards him dragging a lovely gothic vision behind her.  They could have been sisters or mother and daughter in their black lace finery.  Copia stood up just as the little gothic ballerina with the sharp teeth barreled into him and wrapped her arms around his leg.

“Piccola principessa!”  Copia exclaimed kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her.  “You gave us all such a fright.”  He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Sowwy Papa.”  She muttered, glancing at the ground with guilty eyes.

Copia released her from his hug but kept hold of her hand.  “It’s okay little one…just stay with me si?  It’s a pretty night with lots of things to look at and explore, but not alone.” 

The ballerina nodded and kept hold of his hand.  She leaned close and whispered softly “I wasn’t alone for long Papa…this sorella helped me.”  Copia stood up and met the smiling, painted pale face of the woman who had saved the night for him.  “Dolce signora…I cannot thank you enough.”  He said meeting the kind gaze that watched the reunion. 

Kris smiled.  “It was my pleasure, I’m glad to reunite her with her dad.” 

Copia’s eyes widened.  “Oh…no no….I’m…I’m not her father but I am her guardian.”  He cleared his throat a look of embarrassment crossing his face.  “I’m not doing a great job of it tonight.”

Kris looked confused for a moment after hearing the name Papa being called but didn’t push it.  “Don’t feel too bad.”  She told the handsome vampire.  “I had a group of kids I was helping with and it’s like herding cats who have all snorted ether.”  

Copia laughed at the image she’d just created, realizing it was every bit true.  “Well signoria...”

“Kris, nice to meet you.”  She held out a black nail polished hand for him to shake.

The Papa took the proffered hand and instead placed a kiss against her chilled knuckles.  “Copia Emeritus.”  He replied.

She felt a shiver run up her spine as she looked into his mismatched eyes.  It was quite the effect but somehow she didn’t think that was a contact lens causing him to have that pale eye.  “Well Mr. Emeritus…”

“Just Copia please.”  He told her and released her fingers. 

“Copia,” Kris gave him a smile, “Like I said, don’t beat yourself up too much.  It’s a relatively safe town, even on Halloween.”

The little ghoulian held his hand and Copia was still feeling the anxiety at thinking she was gone though it was slowly dropping.  “Si, I know it is but all the same…I truly thank you for bringing her back to me safely.”    The Papa paused for a moment.  This kind sorella had truly done him a service this night.  He felt an obligation as well as a desire to repay it.  “Kris…if you…well if you ever need assistance please don’t hesitate to ask.  You can find me at the Abbey there on the hill.”

Kris’s hazel eyes widened.  “Oh the mystery church?” 

Copia let out a nervous chuckle.  “Si, si…the mystery church.” 

“All the rumors about that place.”  She glanced up at the hillside where it stood like a gothic Hogwarts.  She looked back at the kind eyed vampire.  “I’ve heard some great music coming out of there though.”

He kept his face neutral as he asked “What…what rumors have you heard?”

She shook her head.  “Oh I don’t put that much stock in it.  I’ve seen some of the good things you all do, the food drives, the soup kitchens, the charity for battered women and children.  I mean…that’s what a church should be doing.  So again…don’t worry about repaying me finding your little ballerina here…you all do enough.”

Copia felt a warmth in his chest at that remark and even more determination to do something to repay her for what she’d done.  He felt a little tug on his hand and glanced down.  His ballerina gestured with her tiny fingers for him to come closer.  He knelt down and Kris watched as the little girl whispered something into her guardians ear and then placed something in his hand.  After whispering a reply he gracefully stood up.

“Well…I shall not let your service go without some reward and nor will my charge here.”  He glanced over at the ghoulian who let go of his hand but dutifully took hold of his cape.  He turned back to Kris and held out his hand “If you would please.” 

Kris raised a brow and with a small smile placed her hand in his.   Copia held her hand in his right and with his left placed a red plastic ring in the shape of a vampire bat on her finger.  “From we two creatures of the night to another, thank you dolce Kris.”  He quickly placed one more kiss on the ringed finger.

Kris beamed at him and his charge, who was smiling up at her too with sharp white teeth.  “You are quite welcome fellow dark dwellers.”  She said and gave a little curtsy. 

It was at that moment that the two other ghouls and their own charges came running up after seeing that Copia had their missing ballerina next to him.  The children in tow quickly surrounded the ballerina and started asking her where she’d been.

“Ah, the gangs all here.”  Copia said then glanced at her.  “I believe we should be heading back.  With all the candy and excitement we will be lucky to get them to sleep before dawn.”

Kris nodded “Yeah I think you’re in for a challenge.”  She was sad to see them go though.  The gallant vampire was interesting and quite the charmer.  “I should be finding my own gang.”

“Si, well…farewell principessa della notte.”  Copia said, rather reluctant to see her go.  “You will always have a safe place when you need it with us.”  His expression was serious as he told her this, wanting to make sure she knew the offer was real.

Kris stared into the mismatched eyes surrounded by the black design of a bat.  They nearly glowed in the light from the street lamps and hanging lanterns.  “Thank you…Count Copia.”  She gave him a smile.  “You keep your little devils safe.”

Copia’s eyes widened a little at the turn of phrase.  “Oh…I shall make sure of that.”  He replied, trying not to choke and hearing the full-grown ghouls behind him chuckle.

Kris gave them a wave and turned, heading back to where she expected to find her group.  Copia watched her leave, a wistful expression on his face.  He felt a tug on his cape and glanced down at his little ballerina with the big dark eyes.  “Si piccolo ballerina?”

“I like her.”  The ghoulian said in a sibilant whisper. 

Copia nodded, glancing back to see the woman in black lace turn a corner and disappear from his view.  “Si, so do I.”  He replied.

When Kris walked home from her trick or treating adventure after saying goodbye to the kids and Valerie she glanced down at the bat on her finger and smiled.  When she came to the door of her apartment she stopped and looked down in surprise, finding a skull-shaped Halloween bucket filled with the really nice candy and a single rose laying across it.  She picked up the rose and inhaled the scent and grinned again.  Creature of the night indeed. 

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Alone on Christmas

1986 wasn't kind to Wayne Munson, even after the strange phenomena following the earthquake settled down and life slowly returned to Hawkins. It didn't matter where he was, if the house was new, if the street was vastly different from the trailer park - he would still see Eddie standing in his kitchen, boiling water for any leftover tea bags they had because the heating wasn't exactly willing and they would wrestle for the last pair of clean warm socks. He would catch a glimpse of a head of dark curls outside and lose his breath, his mind conjuring up an image of his nephew's mischievous grin before it dissolved, revealing a foreign face. A song on the radio that Eddie loved and used to blast throughout the trailer, a leather jacket in a shop window, a forgotten poster calling for Eddie's lynching...the town was unforgiving, even if there was nothing to forgive. Any grieving was difficult, Wayne was no stranger to it, but grieving while not being to talk about who you missed because people refused to believe the person Eddie was...it was a new and imaginative kind of torture. Wayne wasn't a social creature, but he'd never felt so utterly and thoroughly alone.

And if the year itself was painful, Wayne's first Christmas without Eddie hurt beyond belief. The traditions made no sense with Eddie gone, just empty gestures, sparkle with nothing underneath. Of course, Wayne knew that Eddie would have wanted him to celebrate, the boy was kind and ridiculously fond of Christmas even at his age. But even after the kid from Eddie's club, Dustin Henderson, visited Wayne and kept him company before excusing himself for a Christmas dinner with his mother, Wayne just couldn't conjure up a single spark of the festive spirit. After fighting to keep down two mouthfuls of store bought turkey and leaving his hot chocolate untouched long enough to go cold, he gave up. Grabbing his jacket and car keys, Wayne walked out of the door.

He didn't exactly plan where to go, but his body had known the destination long before his brain did. The drive itself was a blur and yeah, it wasn't really safe, the streets of Hawkins were covered with snow and it was already dark, but everyone who had something to live for was inside, sharing food and laughter, so the town might have looked deserted had it not been for the twinkling lights in the windows.

As for Wayne, he found himself in front of the Hawkins cemetery.

With the unbelievable amount of tragedy Hawkins had seen in previous years, it was no surprise that there were candles lit up on the graves, flowers, small presents. For the better or for the worse, people of Hawkins remembered, came to see their loved ones before retreating into the warmth of their own homes. In the dark, the cemetery was quiet and deserted.

Or almost.

At first, Wayne thought he must have been imagining things, but the closer he got to Eddie's gravestone, the more obvious it became that he wasn't the only one who decided that Christmas cheer just wouldn't do it. In the quiet of the snowy evening, the walkman hung over the slab of stone with Eddie's name sounded much louder, almost like a speaker. He couldn't tell the name of the song, but the voice sounded familiar - Dio, he recalled, one of Eddie's favorites. And in the front of the grave, on a thin blanket that must have done nothing to protect from the cold, sat a familiar figure. Steve Harrington.

Wayne knew Steve well enough, he saw him at the graveyard, at the relief center, driving the kids around. He also found him once knocking on his door past midnight, on one of Wayne's rare days off, and spent one of the strangest nights of his life sitting down with him, talking, Steve fidgeting and looking around with panicked eyes. But the boy was determined and slowly, almost apologetically, he told Wayne what exactly happened with Eddie, with Hawkins. "I know it sounds insane, I know it's too much and I'm putting both of us in danger, sir. But you deserve to know. Not some kind of a cover up story they will eventually tell you. You deserve to know what happened to Eddie. I used to think keeping everyone safe was a priority, that maybe it would help if we didn't think about it, but...yeah. You can stop me any time and I'll leave, no questions asked." But Wayne never stopped him and now he knew everything. It was a small consolation and the truth did nothing to soothe his anger and grief, but at least he had the full picture.

And now Steve Harrington was sitting in front of Eddie's gravestone - not a grave, no body to be buried, yet another stake through Wayne's heart - as Dio's voice broke through the silence of the night. He was grasping a mug of hot chocolate, another one leaning against the cool slab of granite, and somehow he even secured a tiny plastic tree, with small baubles and a tiny star at the top. Wayne's throat suddenly felt even tighter.

Steve's shoulders jerked when he heard the crunching of snow under Wayne's feet. He tried to get up, but his legs must have been cold and he fumbled with the fabric, almost crashing into Wayne in the process. "Shit. Sorry, sir, I just-!"

Wayne's large hands grasped his shoulders, stabilizing him. "Easy, boy. And I've told you before, it's Wayne. You happen to have a free spot on that blanket of yours?"

The boy still looked shaken, but he quickly nodded and smoothed out the blanket to allow both of them to fit. It was uncomfortable, way too cold and frankly depressing, but the silence between them felt right. Steve unscrewed the cap off his thermos flask (so that's how he kept the chocolate warm!) and handed it to Wayne. Unlike the cup still waiting on his table at home, Wayne sipped this one and actually enjoyed it.

After a few more minutes of shared quiet and listening to the finishing tones of Holy Diver, Wayne cleared his throat. "Nice tree you got there. You even got the colors right. Eddie loves...loved," he corrected himself, one of the worst habits he'd picked up recently, "the red and gold combo."

"I know." Steve's voice was strained, quiet. "I mean, I didn't know, originally...but I talked to Gareth. You know, the guy who played drums in Eddie's band? He told me...a lot. Well, I also asked a lot, so it's fair. I wanted..." his words trailed off, uncertain. "I guess I wanted to do something nice for him. Even if it's too late."

Wayne smiled into his hot chocolate. "My boy would still appreciate it. I sure do." Looking at the small twinkling tree, he sniffed, maybe not from the cold. "Hell, you did more for him than I did today - I just wanted to see him, easy as that, but you had the whole thing planned. I didn't...I didn't even get him a present."

The shuffling next to him surprised him enough to suppress the bitterness creeping up his throat. When he turned to Steve, the boy was holding a tiny wrapped package. "It can be from you then," he said, dropping the present into his gloved hand. "I didn't know where to set it, thought the snow would ruin the paper, but...maybe you can unwrap it on Eddie's behalf?"

Fucking depressing indeed. But also warm, so terrifyingly warm.

Steve watched as Wayne removed his gloves with his teeth. "Okay, Eddie. Let's see what Santa brought you," he muttered and tore off the paper, revealing a red D20. He glanced at Steve and they both started chuckling at once, finally easing some of heavy atmosphere.

"Dustin said this was like, Eddie's thing. He'd carry them in his pockets all the time" said Steve and swept aside some of the snow so Wayne could set the die down, under the tree.

"Oh you have no idea." Wayne was putting the glove back on and returning to his hot chocolate. Stupid December. "He'd leave those things lying everywhere. Ever stepped on one of these when you've just woken up? That hurts."

They were laughing again, watching the steam rising from Eddie's cup of hot chocolate. It would be cold soon.

But eventually, Wayne had to ask. He turned towards Steve, touched his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate the company, Steve, but...why are you here?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, clenched his jaw. But Wayne knew when to push and when to wait.

Eventually, the silence got to Steve, made him desperate to break it. "I told you. I wanted...I wanted to do something nice for him. So I came here."

Wayne shook his head. The grip on Steve's shoulder never wavered and the boy didn't shake him off. "I get that. You're a good kid, Steve. But no one should be alone on Christmas Eve."

He didn't have to look to tell that Steve's lips were trembling, his breathing uneven. "But Eddie is," he whispered. Then, louder, more stubborn. He met Wayne's eyes. "You are."

If that truth didn't hurt. But Wayne couldn't bring himself to be mad, to flinch at another stab into his heart. Twisting on the blanket, he pulled Steve into a hug. He didn't give many and received even less, but maybe Steve needed it. Maybe they both did. By the ease with which Steve let himself be pulled forward, with the firm grip of Wayne's arms, it was hard to dispute.

"I know, Steve," he muttered against his shoulder. "We're both alone and it sucks, it sucks so much, but there's nothing we can do about it. And you don't have to tell me why you're not with your parents, girlfriend, friends, anyone...but making yourself miserable won't bring Eddie back. It wouldn't make him happy." Patting Steve's heaving back, he continued, staring into the night sky. "You know, if he was here, he'd probably yell at us both. And then he'd have us both drive home and warm up before we lose a limb or two."

Steve chuckled into his thick winter coat. "Not sure about it. He wasn't my biggest fan...until the last week. But even then, I think he'd enjoy watching me squirm a bit."

"Maybe so," said Wayne and glanced at Eddie's name on the gravestone. "But there's one thing I know about my boy, Steve. He saw people for real, how they felt. He just had a knack for it, he could see when you were lonely and that was when he was the loudest, most annoying. If he saw you like this, I don't believe for a second he'd enjoy it. He'd probably annoy the hell out of you to snap you out of it, then adopt you like a puppy or somethin'."

They were laughing again, the sound so foreign that Wayne couldn't believe it was coming from his own mouth.

They would have probably stayed there much longer, but the cassette finished playing and clicked loudly, drawing their attention. Wayne let Steve go, but not too far. He might have not been able to save his own boy, but maybe the adoption thing ran in the family. "Hey, Steve. Could you help me with a thing?"

The boy nodded immediately, not taking a single second to think. "Sure thing, sir- I mean Wayne. What is it?"

Wayne took a good look at him. Even in the darkness of the graveyard, in the flickering light of a candle he kept lit on Eddie's grave, he could see the circles under Steve's eyes, the haunted look he'd seen so many times in Vietnam and after. The lines in his face that weren't supposed to be there. "I have a turkey at home that needs eating. It's not good, mind you, but I hate wasting food."

Steve's mouth hung open. "I...I couldn't possibly..."

But Wayne was already rising to his feet, extending his arm to help Steve up too. "Na-ah, Steve. You already agreed. Now help this old man. I also have some more hot chocolate at home, pretty sure what we have here is still chocolate, but definitely not hot."

He saw how Steve's eyes traveled to the gravestone, the tree, the die underneath. The nearly cold mug. He took a deep breath, then another one. And nodded. "Of course. Let me just pack the blanket."

Wayne smiled and pulled him upwards. "Let me help, son." The word slipped from his mouth, almost automatic, but it wasn't just a phrase. Like this whole meeting, it felt right.

As they shook snow off the blanket, the baubles on Eddie's Christmas tree gleamed, like his smile.

[hikaritakaishi]

Takari Week 2024 - Day 4: Fourth Contact

Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: Carnelian (Fourth Contact)

Characters: Takeru Takaishi, Hikari Yagami, Sora Takenouchi

Summary: It wasn't a conscious decision. It wasn't even a decision. It just happened. When she noticed, she was already looking into his eyes, wanting to drown in them. Quickly. Desperately.

That wasn't a coincidence. But it wasn't planned either. When he noticed, he already wanted to feel her touch. Madly. Profoundly. Intertwined souls, made to recognize each other in every lifetime.

They had it all. They had each other.

Note: A collection of stories that gives us an insight into Takeru and Hikari's relationship over the years. It was really hard to put all the prompts explicitly in the story, so I tried to metaphorize some of them, in order for them to make sense at the end.

It is composed of two prologues, one for Takeru and one for Hikari, exposing events before 1999. And a final epilogue, summarizing all the feelings exposed in the previous chapters. In the intermediate chapters, we follow all the challenges that a long-term friendship has to face when it becomes a romantic relationship, and how we form solid and permanent bonds with the ones we love the most.

・。。・゜゜・。。・

Something was missing.

A progression, a discussion, an enlightenment. A hug that brought no closure to her spirit nor erased her doubts. Not completely ease her mind. She needed it, she wanted it. But she needed to put her heart to rest in some other way.

Required advice. And thought of someone right away, who used to give the best advice for any type of hard situation. The mother of their friend group. The person she knew was her brother’s first love and Takeru’s brother last. Sora.

Hikari first wanted to call, but reevaluated the position that she was on, and decided to text asking if she could meet her in person. Some things are simply better discussed face to face, eye to eye. Feeling the other person's empathy and seeing their facial expressions while reasoning runs.

Sora didn't even take 10 minutes to respond the message. Did she sound too alarmed? Or too desperate?

“I'll be home all Saturday. Take as much time as you want and as you need, I have plenty.” Followed by a pink heart emoji.

Sora was always so incredibly soft and solidary. Always available to help, even with tight work schedules, and meticulously studying the future she wanted to build. No wonder Taichi and Yamato loved her for so long.

“Thank you so much Sora! I will be arriving after lunch time, early afternoon. I promise it won’t take too long!” Followed by a red heart emoji. Perfect. Finally, she will let herself speak about it for the first time. That thought made her a little nervous, honestly.

As much as she knew it was necessary, Hikari still had troubles opening her feelings to others. It still felt uncomfortable hearing her own thoughts out loud. Messed up argumentative lines, misplaced words, long silences. Failed attempts to explain what seemed inexplicable. Giving up. Quit easily. Self-sabotage.

It was a process, she emphasised to herself pretty much every day. A time-consuming process. But still imperative. Baby steps, little by little, small progresses flourished.

She walked slowly to Sora's house. Mentally preparing what she would say, how she would say. A flawless script. Not that it was difficult to explain, but she wanted to not sound foolish.

Everything simply evaporated from her mind when she arrived. Great. Took a deep breath and rang the bell.

“Hikari!” A very radiant voice welcomed her. It was impossible not to smile and feel loved. Sora was the personification of lovely. “Come inside! I was making some tea; would you like to have some?”

“Sure! What kind of tea is it?”

Chamomile. Of course. Perfect when it comes to avoid nerve wrecks.

“I am alone at home, but let's talk in my bedroom anyway. It's more comfortable. Can you help me with the tea?”

“Yes of course! And thank you so much for your time!”

“You don't have to thank me, I'm always here for whatever you need. Would you kindly be able to bring the cups? I take the pot of tea and biscuits” A plate with Sembei biscuits was placed right next to the pot of tea.

They calmly walked to Sora's room. She closed the door as soon as they arrived.

A small table sat in the centre of the room was waiting for them, with two pads on the floor, one on each side of the table. There was an undeniable effort to make everything look as welcoming as possible.

“Make yourself comfortable!” Sora said while placing the pot of tea and the biscuits plate on the table. “I hope you like the tea and the biscuits; I didn’t know what to prepare so I went for the safest option.”

“You didn't need to bother; I just needed your company.”

“I am so glad you came; we didn’t spoke in such a long time!”

Sora sat in front of her and started pouring the tea into the cups.

“I know right? And I am sorry if I am taking time from you that you might need for…”

“Oh Hikari, you have no idea how I really need and missed these moments. Just to talk to a friend and having them around. So don’t apologising, really, I am very happy that you came! So…”  She handed her the cup of tea, with small pieces of the tea plant floating calmly inside of it, contrasting with Hikari’s flustered emotions. “You said you needed to talk about something important, what could it be?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know where to start…” Hikari sighed, inhaling the smell of the tea to calm her nerves.

“Take your time” Sora smiled, and it filled Hikari’s heart with a warm kind feeling of comfort. “Is it something that happened recently or have been happening?”

“Actually, it has been happening for quit sometime, but before getting there… How can I say this...”

Sora remained silent, not wanting to pressure Hikari into saying anything she didn't feel comfortable or prepared for. Hikari was stirring the tea with a spoon and looked away.

“Promise me not to tell anyone about this… specially Yamato.”

“Oh, of course not…” Sora’s voice tone changed, and she could sense the intrigue in it. “But why specially Yamato?”

“It was to do with Takeru.” Said finally, feeling some of the weight she carried on her shoulders finally fall.

“Takeru? I think I know where this is going… “Sora laughed a little bit.

“You know? Did he tell you what happened?”

“No, he did not tell me anything, but I can imagine. But please continue, at the end I will explain you everything that I have in my mind.”

“Ok.” She said suspiciously.” Well, since the beginning of high school, Takeru has become very popular, and when I say very, I say immensely, popular. Mostly around, girls. To the point that he receives several loves letters every single week.”

“Oh really? That much? I mean, he is a very sympathetic person with a gentle eye-catching personality, always cordial and courteous… how do you feel about all of that?”

“At first, I didn't pay much attention, I thought it was normal, for the reasons you mentioned mostly. But lately it has been bothering me a little bit…” Took a sip of the tea, to give Sora space to say something.

“And why is it? Is because you are afraid that he will distance himself from you, or is he acting any differently now that he is receiving a different type of attention?”

“I don’t feel like he is acting differently than before, and I do admire him for the way he deals with his recent popularity, always being careful with the words he uses and always being humble despite everything. A lot of boys would’ve taken advantage of the girls and probably hurt them.”

“Takeru is a soft soul; I don’t believe he would do that. “

“Neither do I. But I keep imagining that one day he might give one of them a chance. And start really… love someone.”

“And that is a completely plausible scenario.” She took a Sembei biscuit from the plate and broke it in half.  “Soner or later, he will find someone he really likes. And will go on dates with her, spend time with her…” Continue to talk while eating.

That was exactly what she was afraid of. Felt her heart sinking a little and her throat started burning. Sora was undeniable right.

“… and that makes you feel nauseous, right?” Sora finished.

“Yes, a little bit.”

“Do you want to be that person?”

“I cannot be that person Sora, that is not even an option.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because…” Hikari began to search in her mind for the best words to describe what she had been feeling in the last few months. A tough but sincere analysis. “Because that could do more harm than good. We have been friends for many years, and we have an incredible friendship. Our connect is rare, and I don't want to destroy it. I don’t want to hurt him if I’m not able to be... enough for him.

“I sincerely understand you, Hikari, seriously.  I went through something similar when I started to date Yamato, but you know, when you really love someone, the best thing you can do for them and for yourself is to be honest about those feelings. “

“You cannot imagine how betrayed by myself I felt when I realized that… I was falling for Takeru.”

“I can imagine. Have you thought about... exposing it to him? Do you think he might feel something as well?

“I don’t know… I never really planed on saying anything but a few days ago, he received another love letter from a girl he rejected, and I think that now he suspects that I might like him because of the way I acted around it.”

“What did you do?”

“I was so tired of pretending that I was ok with all of that. The love letters, the girl’s whispers whenever he passes by them in the hallways, him pretending that nothing was going on. My feelings simply boiled up and I couldn’t take them anymore. I distanced myself the rest of the day and avoid Takeru as much as I could. And I know what you might be thinking! Like, what a stupid thing to do! But I just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Oh Hikari, I understand you so well, I felt that too. Yamato had the band, and the band was a huge success for a long time. “Sora looked around, remembering the days before she confessed herself to Yamato. “Too many girls, too many concert, and too much pressure on me to be perfect. I almost gave up on him because of that. But I was being overcome by fear, just like I think you are. “

“Do you think he will be ok with me… confessing all of this? The last thing I want to do is mess up with our friendship.”

“I believe that your connection is unique enough to make those feelings you have something much more than you expect, Hikari, you just have to let them do their magic.”

“I can agree with you… but why is it so hard? To just be honest?”  

“Sometimes your feelings can eat you alive if you don’t get them out of your chest. Even if you try to ignore them, they will still exist.”

Hikari continued stirring her tea impatiently. Seemed infinitely easier said than done.

“I need more sugar, otherwise I'll have a drop in my blood pressure.” She took tiny cube of sugar out of a small pink jar that was on the table.

“Do you know what I was referring to earlier? Everyone expected you to fall in love with each other Hikari, it seemed beautifully inevitable. You built something that very few people experience in a lifetime.”

“Beautifully ironic if you ask me. “

“You should romanticize it more, maybe it was fate that brought you together, at the right time, at the right place. I mean, who knows. And even if it was just a coincidence… what an incredible one.”

“You cannot romanticize total chaos, Sora.”

“Oh, how dramatic!”

Hikari rolled her eyes while Sora kept laughing at her facing expressions.

Time went by and they kept sharing memories and advice, in a light tone that almost gave Hikari total certainty that what she was going to do was the right decision. What else could she do? The worst that could happen was that her feelings weren't reciprocated, which Sora dismissed almost immediately. It was either that or lose the opportunity to be honest and see Takeru with someone other than her in the future. You do what you need to do.

・。。・゜゜・。。・

Another week came a way too fast. The weekend was so fastmoving that Hikari did not even notice until Sunday night, when she was preparing her materials for school, and remembered everything she had shared with Sora. Now that the morning was dawned, she will have to go and face him. She had a little knot in her stomach and even her mother noticed that she had barely eaten breakfast.

“Come on Hikari, you got this!”

She asserted in waiting for the ideal occasion, and deliberately waited for the classes to finish.

Takeru noticed her impatience throughout the day. She seemed far, far away from him. Tried to catch her eye multiple times unsuccessfully and could not tell where she was in the intervals between classes. He expected everything to be back to normal, posterior to what happened. It was clearly not, something strange hovered over them. To convoluted for him to decipher. Yet.

“Can you wait for me, after class?”

Hikari was right behind him, standing, speaking graciously and quietly. He was sitting in his desk, waiting for the teacher to come and to start the last lesson of the day.

“Of course, is everything ok?”

Tried not to sound too analytic. Maybe a bit causally worried. She smiled. He knew she had done it on purpose. The distance, the quietude all day long, no mention of the love letters or that afternoon after class. Hikari laid the emotional groundwork.

“Yes, I only need a moment with you, alone. To talk.”

“Sure, I may need it too.” He played her back.Felt the tension build, while observing her confused expression. She did not expect that, and it was apparent.

“Wait for me then.”

Perceived her go to her sit. There was something stimulating about her existence and the way she simply was. Whenever he could, he looked at her distractedly. In her most natural way of being. For as long as he could remember, he had admired her. Beautifully soft, gracefully strong. Consciously vulnerable.

 The school bell rang, and Takeru did not want to wait much longer. He packed his things and got up, heading towards her.

“Follow me, I can think of a better place for us to talk.”

That was certainly unexpected. Decided to trust him, and packed her things quickly as well, and hold his hand. Together they walked out of the room, waving Daisuke goodbye, leaving him with a strange feeling that something was about to change.

“Where are we going?”

“To a part of the school where no one had classes today.”

They went down to the top floor, still holding hands. Hikari felt her knees getting weaker and her hands were sweating. She tried to breathe slowly, but it was difficult, mainly because of the speed at which Takeru was pulling her. They passed through several rooms and entered the last one in the corner. He was right, it looked like no one had used those rooms that day. Everything was tidy and quiet.

“These rooms belong to the art and sculpture clubs. They only come from Tuesday to Thursday. We are safe.”

He let go of her hand to open the door. Courteously, he let her in first and followed. They went to the end of the room and placed their backpacks on the table in the right corner, which was next to the window.

The entire room was filled with shades of orange and brown. Carnelian. A slightly stuffy environment, with a little dust visually hung in the air.

Takeru leaned on the edge of the table and looked at Hikari, waiting for her to feel comfortable enough to look at him.  She leaned against the windowsill and avoided his eyes, trying to calm herself first. Stretched her back a little and relaxed her shoulders. Took a very deep and loud breath.

“Takeru… I don’t even know how to start… I”

“Look at me, please.”

She looked up to meet his eyes. They brough her an uncomfortable cosiness.

Maybe due to the sunset colour pallet, his eyes seemed more crystal clear now, an angelic blue. The orange touch of his freckles contrasted with the blonde of his hair in a melodical way. Would it be too pathetic to want to hug him again?

“I missed you today.” Takeru broke the silence. “I don’t know what you are thinking, but I hate feeling you distant.”

“I missed you too.” Hikari said honestly. “I've been wondering all day how to ask you to talk about what happened, last week.”

“I thought about the possibility of that being the case.”

“Takeru, I just don’t want to ruin our friendship because of my selfishness.”

“I think we should have talked about this sooner. We could have avoided misunderstandings and…discomfort.”

“That's not an easy conversation to have” She looked out the window. No one was around, but she bet their colleagues were all on their way home.

“I understand, and please be as sincere as you need. I don’t mind being a little hurt” He laughed. “If you do is because I probably deserved it. “

“First of all, I want to apologise for the way I handled what happen the other day. I think I took it too… personally.”  The words came out choppy, as if she was trying to force them out. “I just don’t want to lose a… friend, as special as you are to me.”

Hikari waited for a reaction. His face was neutral, until he started laughing.

“Takeru… I am being serious…”

“I know, I know, am sorry but…”

He pushed himself off the table and approached her. He placed one hand on each side of her body, leaning on the windowsill, facing her and looking into her eyes.

Her pale skin felt like snow. Light brown eyes, light brown hair. A scent of vanilla and coffee. Hikari was calmness, even when was being drowned by an ocean of insecurities he never really saw as such. Her lips were dry, probably from impatience to express herself. He did not mind, she looked as perfect as always.

Hikari let her weight fall onto her back, she had no space to move away from him. He was close, leaning down a bit to reach her height.

“What you are telling me is… and please correct me if I am wrong.” His lips move slowly, and those words came out like a whisper.

Hikari looked at his lips first, and then his eyes.

“You've been jealous… can we call it jealous? All this time because of those letters, and yet you say we're…friends?”

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes went down to his lips once again. Whole body shaking from anxiety. Felt his breath close, very close.

“Can you guess?”

Takeru slid a hand to her cheek and placed his lips on hers. Quickly.

One

“Don’t go yet.”

Hikari whispered, when she felt the kiss breaking. Locked their lips once again. A much longer contact. Warm, humid. Her hands pressed in the windowsill. His hand still in her cheek. Felt the other hand reach her waist, pressing it.

Two

“What are the chances of someone showing up here?”  She asked, as an excuse to get some air. Her cheeks were burning. Their bodies were burning.

“None. Literally none.” The urge in his voice.They’ve wanted each other for too long. It took them to much time to reach to that.

Three

Hikari put her arms around his neck and let him carry most of their weight. Takeru struggled not to take his hands off her waist and go further. Their noses bumped many times.

They let go for a moment, going for a small perfunctory kiss afterward.

Four

They remained hugged, wanting to eternalize that moment. His head on her right shoulder, hers on his chest. Takeru was inhaling as deeply as he could, pressing on hand flat against her back, smelling her vanilla accent. Their heartbeats synchronized. A powerful feeling that was as beautiful as dangerous, terrifying even. Terrifyingly human.

The heat, the excitement, the nervousness. They had it all, they had each other.

・。。・゜゜・。。・