#and he hopes everyone else can do the same
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“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.
Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?
A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.
“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.
I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”
He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”
“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it.
By the time I got there, it was too late.
“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.”
It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.
I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer.
Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”
I stubbornly ignore him.
He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”
He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.
Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”
“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”
Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”
“Why do you-”
“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years!
“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”
I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”
Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”
He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.
The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.
Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.
I chose the latter.
your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times
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isnt the same without you.
warnings: comforting, fluff, insecurity, a little bit of blood.
summary: jj goes to a party without reader for the first time, and when jjs phone dies, she starts to overthink. (based off this ask, thank you anon!)
a/n: this is sort of short because its just a blurb, but i really love this request, its so cute!
pairings: insecure!reader x soft!bf!jj
you weren't feeling up to this big party that everyone was attending tonight. unfortunately, you and jj were planning to go for a few weeks now, and since you didn't wanna go, you didn't wanna stop him from attending it as well.
he insisted that he would stay home and look after you, he offered to buy you snacks and even watch those cheesy romcoms that he absolutely despises, but he tolerates them because you love them.
but you assured him it was okay, and he can go even if it made you feel a little uneasy.
you had never done well with being away from jj for long periods of time, let alone him going to a party without you. but you told yourself to 'grow up' and 'stop being a baby' about it. you needed to get a grip.
you decide to text him about an hour in, just to make sure he was safe, and then you promised yourself you would stop bothering him after that.
imessage:
11:01 pm: hey jay! im just checking in to make sure your okay, i dont wanna bother you or anything so im gonna let you have fun! bye i love you <3
-
you chew your nails, anxiously waiting on a response from your boyfriend.
about five minutes went by, and you were constantly picking up your phone, swiping up for any sign that he had read the text or responded. but there was nothing.
you waited another ten minutes, then got back to anxiously checking it again, still nothing. delivered.
you told yourself your being dramatic, and went to occupy yourself with doing the dishes, and sweeping the kitchen floor. by the time you had gotten back to your room about fifteen minutes later, there was still nothing.
you toss your phone down onto the bed, feeling frustrated but also upset at the same time. had he been hooking up with another girl? is he drinking too much? what if hes talking to someone else?
all these thoughts cloud your mind, and you find yourself biting down on the skin beside your nail bed. as your chewing away at your skin, your phone dings unexpectedly, causing you to jump a bit, tearing a piece of your skin off. (ouch.)
the sting of the bare skin makes your eyes water a little, a bead of blood trickling down your finger. "ow." you mumble, before picking up your phone and looking at whoever texted you.
it was jj. all your pain was instantly forgotten the moment you seen his text on your screen.
imessage
jayj🤍: "hey beautiful, im sorry i didnt text you back. i forgot my charger like a dumbass. but im at home now, and i didnt have fun. it was boring as shit without u baby."
you instantly reply to his message after reading it, your heart no longer feels like its carrying a weight anymore.
you: "thank you for texting, i was worried sick baby...i literally hurt my finger trying to answer the phone. I thought you might've been cheated on me or something."
you send that text with a underlying hint of insecurity in it, hoping he wont just brush you off. your in need of some reassurance from him right now.
jayj🤍: "baby you hurt your finger?!! and what do u mean 'cheat on you'? thats not even possible for me mama."
the next text eases your worries a bit, but you wanted to get everything off your chest.
you: "i just hate being without you for a long period of time, i wish i would've let you stay in with me tonight, but i know how excited you were for the party."
jayj🤍: "oh baby, no. parties are not the same without you. i would never cheat on you, im sorry if i made you feel that way, but that isn't me. you know your stuck with me forever mama, whether you like it or not."
now all your worries and insecurities are instantly gone, touched by your boyfriend's loyalty to you.
after you let yourself think for a moment, you remember the minor injury you caused yourself a few minutes back and wince slightly at the sting.
as if exactly on cue, jj double texts you.
jayj🤍: "oh and im on my way with some bandaids and snacks, i love you baby. unlock the door for me beautiful."
after he sends that text, you hear jjs dirtbike pull up.
#jj maybank#outer banks#imagine#fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#obx fic#rafe cameron#the kooks#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank icons#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#obx jj#jj obx#jj maybank rp#jj maybank series#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x kiara carrera#jj maybank x pope heyward#jj maybank x sister!reader
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Holy Server B@tman! Fanfic Rec List 2.0
Hello and welcome back to a very special fanfic rec list!
The members of the amazing Holy Server B@tman! Server are an extremely talented bunch - many great artists and writers together in one place to foster each other’s creativity and joy to participate in fandom.
That has to be celebrated!
So, please welcome a list of stories our writers loved to create, their very own Greatest Hits!
(please click on your own discretion - you’ll find the appropriate warnings on ao3)
Fujiwhara Effect by byrambles / @byrambles
Fujiwhara Effect: When two tropical cyclones spinning in the same direction pass so close to each other than they begin spinning around a common center. Or: Dick is NOT a fan of Bruce’s new kid (seriously, WHO brings home a new kid weeks after the old one moves out and then doesn’t even have the courtesy to tell – ). When he gets trapped in Gotham by an East Coast hurricane, though, he has to figure out how to be in the same room as Jason without losing it.
byrambles's words: This was so much fun to write! I think it has a sweet mix of angst and fluff — plus a silly little surprise part-way through!
The Lines that Bond Us by canaf_lilah
Reclusive author Bruce Wayne's most recent book, The Bat Man, was a critical success and a mass market flop. As he struggles to make sense of a sequel, he shocks no one more than himself when he brings home recently orphaned Dick Grayson. Bruce could never have predicted the impact on his life - and his writing - the remarkably resilient young acrobat would have. Batman and Robin may only exist on the pages of Bruce's books, but that doesn't stop them from saving the people they touch.
Lilah's words: to me this is by far the best fic I've ever written. I'm determined to finish it one day, but don't be too put off by the incomplete status! It works well as a standalone.
red like blood (they won't wash clean) by silver_the_phoenix
Tim snaps. It's a lot bloodier than he thought it would be.
Silver's words: I started this one because Tim deserves to go a little feral, as a treat; and I finished it because I'm a simp for Good Brother Jason Todd.
Cared For by 1Zukoneedsafamily2 / @trashcollectshere
Jason smirked as he stood over The Replacement. He stroked the feathers of the splayed-out wings, before he gripped a group of feathers and yanked. Not hard enough to pull out feathers but he wanted him awake when the fun started.
Krys' words: also everyone loves a tower fic right???
Brother, Go Find Your Brother by sleepingcreep (JaySgrech) / @misplacedspleen
Brother, go find your brother: A method of finding something lost by attempting to lose something similar in the same way, in the hopes that it gets lost in the same place and both can be found. “You should match, right?” The grin cracked wider as the lanky captor rolled the knife between their fingers, strolling closer to where Tim was pinned to the wall. Jason didn’t comprehend what the creep meant, too focused on trying to pull his hands against the cuffs in the right way to pop his thumb out of place to get free. There are many years of scars between Jason and Tim before they match.
Jay's words: I'm reccing it because I'm proud of how the settings turned out and I think I wrote a unique take on Jason and Tim's relationship
dirt piling up, putting me to bed by rutaceae / @applejee
Jason never imagined that a simple trip to a bookshop could end with him trapped in the basement of a collapsed building with Tim, but you don't often get what you imagined when you live in Gotham.
Luka's words: i’m quite happy with how contained this little fic is (for me); i always wanted to stab someone, and have someone else panic so bad they don’t realise they’re fucked up themself. fun times!!
Do-Si-Do's Churros & Other Curious Things About Love by sElkieNight60 / @selkienight60
Being a beta in a house full of alpha’s is rough. Especially if you’re trying to be heard.
Selkie's words: I like it because I really enjoy reading Platonic Omegaverse stories, and the Batfamily are so unrepresented here, (I say, in the meaning that I simply crave more of them, there are truthfully quite a few out there, but I just enjoy them so much).
Maui Melon Mint by motleyfam / @motleyfam
In the case of Bats vs. Stomach Bug, there can only be one victor.
Motley's words: I had a ton of fun writing from Damian’s POV for a change and letting Alfred wear his sassy pants
Writer's Cellblock by pinstripedJackalope / @the-ghost-of-jason-todd
Mystery writer and father to five, Bruce Wayne has no great fortunes to fall back on. No reserve of social charisma, no family jewels. He no longer has a butler, though Alfred does his best to visit regularly. He is, in short, not the kind of man who can buy freedom. Heck, he can barely make ends meet some months. So you can understand the… concern… he feels when, late one night, two FBI agents come knocking at his door.
K's words: ngl it was hard to pick a fic, and i would have picked one with more than one chapter but i always did think this one was kind of fun
Golden Silence, Golden Yolks by BabblingBookends / @babblingbookends
Words between Dick and Bruce have never been easy. Dick talks, Bruce doesn’t listen. Bruce talks, Dick is expected to listen. Better if neither of them speak at all.
Babbles' words: If you watch a TV show for long enough, there will inevitably be some character moments in a diner, and I just think that's fun, hence this fic!
keep your head up (it's a cruel world) by lookforanewangle / @lookforanewangle
“If the past is anything to go on, sir,” he says kindly, “this boy will be in your care for a good many lifetimes, and you will do all you can to keep him safe, just like you have with the others.” Or, the Batfam/The Old Guard reverse verse au with Dick's introduction to the world of immortals
Lyss' words: I put a lot of work into this one and while I know reverse verse isn't everyone's cup of tea, I think it works best in this universe in this order, with many surprises yet to come, and room for this universe to grow!
A Promise to Stay by xerzi / @xerziartblog
No one needed Tim Drake, but Tim Drake still needed to be needed. And well, who better to choose than the one person who could never stop needing him? So inherently broken that his job would never be finished. Yet so unfortunately resilient that he would never be left the sole survivor. And so desperate to serve that he would never be betrayed again. In other words, no one else needed Tim Drake, but certainly, he knew there was someone who could make use of his particular skill set. - Tim Drake, 12-year-old independent adult, professional birdwatcher, is offered everything he’s ever wanted…for the low, low price of his verbal agreement. All he has to do is say yes.
Xerzi's words: I just want to put Tim Drake in a jar and try to figure out what's wrong with him…so I put TWO Tim Drakes in the same jar so they can work together to figure out what's wrong with them (and how to fix it)
The End of Man by AuroraKant / @sassydefendorflower
Dick Grayson wasn’t meant to be caged in, but then again… Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer, and look at him now. (was this what insanity felt like?) Dick Grayson gets captured, forced to shift, and put into a cage - surely, this is the worst that can happen?
Aurora's words: Look... I always wanted to write a deranged Shifter AU in which Dick Grayson goes absolutely mental. What can I say? I love it when my boy is broken and covered in blood <3
Catching Stars and Comets by Faeriekit
From this tumblr prompt: "Reverse Robins AU but instead of making Damian oldest and going down the line so on and so forth, it’s a bunch of assembled weird vigilante-crime men and their accidentally adopted autistic eight year old rich boy, Bruce, who calls himself “batkid” for reasons beyond their mutual understanding of expected kid behavior."
Faeriekit's words: it's been a fun AU to work on, I hope people enjoy it, also it's got kids. It's basically an ageswap!AU where all the batkids are "villains" without Bruce's influence. And it was either this fic or the bees.
cardboard box by A_Canceled_Stamp / @a-canceled-stamp
Robin!Tim is exposed to Ivy's cuddle pollen. For the first time, he reaches out to Bruce for help. How he wishes he hadn't.
Stamp's words: this is my first hurt/no comfort fic and I am very happy with how it turned out! The comments I've gotten on it always make me cackle lmao
a flower called you has bloomed by dottie_dc / @dottie-wan-kenobi
The real problem is that, well. Last time Tim went undercover, he kind of… came home and embarrassed himself. It’s not that he’s shy about being seen in disguise, okay? They can all tease him all they want but it doesn’t bother him. He has way more blackmail on his siblings than they do him, so whatever. It’s just… Caroline Hill is a different story.
Dottie's words: I saw the inspo art and it gave me immediate motivation to write something, which was really fun. I loved writing it and seeing people in the comments be able to relate. queer headcanons my beloved <3
Of The Covenant by Kgraces / @kgraces
Dick Grayson is many things, and foremost among those, he's a detective. He can't stop himself from noticing things about Tim Drake — things that make him question not only his home life but his relationship with Bruce Wayne, too. (Things spiral from there.)
Gracie's words: I’m gonna toss my current longfic your way so hopefully it motivates me to work on it more lmao. It’s a Dick & Tim fic where Dick basically takes a look at all the adults in Tim’s life and goes “is anyone going to take care of this feral, unsupervised child? No? Guess he’s my responsibility now.”
Now and Then by librarylexicon / @librarylexicon
Dick’s spent the past few months recovering from an ordeal he’d rather not think about, so when Bruce asks him to spend quality time with Tim outside of their masks, he instantly agrees. Amid conversations, itineraries, nightmares, photos, revelations and a whole lot of chocolate, he and Tim navigate the Great Ocean Road—and learn more about themselves and each other along the way.
lily's words: Dick and Tim are my favourite Batboys, so I've been wanting to write a fic about them for a long time, because of their long history and close brotherly relationship in the comics. This story is a love letter to their bond, and I'm very pleased with the way all the emotional whump turned out!
How to tape a card castle by Fleur_de_Violette / @fleur-de-violette
Dick saves the new Robin one day. This is it. This is all. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have a relationship with Jason, it’s just that it’s too complicated. He doesn’t know how to deal with being an adult on top of being Nightwing. He can’t deal with Jason, with what Jason represents, on top of it. Except, when a small injury doesn’t heal up the way it’s supposed to, he ends up being the one who needs saving and he’s finally forced to face the new Robin.
Violette's words: This is my longest published fic so far ! I really enjoyed writing it, both the Robin Jason and Dick part and the little case stories in between and I'm happy about how it turned out!
See You At Your Worst by wildsofmarch / @wildsofmarch
Dick has only been a mob enforcer for six months, but delivering a shipment of guns to an up-and-coming crime lord in Gotham should have been easy. All he needs to do is win the man's trust and secure him as a repeat customer. Unfortunately, the Red Hood is not impressed with him.
Wilds' words: I like this one because I go ham with the identity porn!
The Nature of Things by FidotheFinch / @fidothefinch
After a mission gone wrong and a spat with Drake, Robin is benched. Worse than that: Damian is grounded. As serendipity would have it, it gives Damian the opportunity to facilitate the rehabilitation of the manor's new ward, a dog Batman rescued from a fighting ring.
Fido's words: I got to memorialize pieces of my childhood pups in this story, and it was my first fic in the fandom
in vitro by genericlesbian72 / @femmescooter
Shadow-girl did not know much. She didn't need to. But she knew her first kill would be for the baby.
Hedgehog's words: This fic was a challenge to myself on how Cassandra would view her first kill, without words to describe it, while also a take on ‘joining the Batfamily early’ for her that I haven’t seen much before.
this one takes the cake by carol_in_au / @carol-in-au
Jason took a sip from his glass, slowly, synching it with Bruce's words. Bruce cleared his throat, and continued with an authoriative tone that was so not him. "I have something to announce." Bruce Wayne has an announcement to make
Chrys' words: It's fast-paced, has a good comedic timing, a bit of fluff in some moments. When I reread it, I found it pleasant to read and I was quite happy I created it
presumptions by Valkirin / @valkirinii
Batman is away on a long mission with the Justice League when Red Hood attacks Robin in Titans Tower. Red Hood thinks that hurting Robin will get Batman's attention. He doesn't expect Nightwing. Nightwing doesn't know what to expect from Red Hood, Gotham's newest rogue.
Trixie's words: It's one of my favorites that doesn't seem to get as much attention. It's also really fun to let Dick Grayson be angry and intimidating.
Operation Friendship Helmet by goldenraeofsun / @raeofsoleil
When Red Hood meets Dick, he seems almost friendly, compared to the violent hostility he showed Batman and Robin. Maybe, if Dick plays his cards right, he can turn Red Hood from a crime boss to a vigilante. But the closer he gets to Hood, the question nags louder and louder: why does Red Hood seem so familiar?
Rae's words: This is the first time I really dove into my favorite trope, secret identities, complete with a big reveal at the end.
Roadtrip to Nowhere by Ghxst_Bird / @ghost-bxrd
“For the last time, I’m not modifying a car we’ll be ditching a few towns over.” “Why, you got better things to do?” “Yeah, getting food on the table, you leech.” Jason goes on an impromptu road trip with an ex-Talon and ends up running into a family member… who still thinks he’s dead. Oops.
Ghost's words: Calvin Rose deserves more love in this fandom!
Q is for Quintessential by writergeek / @writergeek
"Rodney...you're talking about altering the timeline here." Well...yeah. Wasn't that the point? "...I want you to have a backup plan." Of course he had a backup plan. At this point he could probably list them all by alphabetical order. Or...the story of the backup plan(s) Rodney never wanted to use to save 12 days 25 years 48000 years mankind.
WG's words: not a DC fic, it actually comes from my old fandom, SGA. i just... i enjoy the time loop shenanigans and the fixit nature of it (which needs fixing only bc i broke it shush), both tropes i adore reading (and writing, apparently)
Leaving The Light by TheCallOfTheSea
Jason is alive, but he has fallen. Can the Batfamily save him?
M&M's words: I enjoyed exploring Jason as a villain, but it wasn’t easy writing relentless angst! I still brought out his humanity in a way.
closet space by adelfie / @adelfie
“Hi,” she says in a breathless rush, then takes a moment to swallow and wet her lips. “I, uh, need your help?” “Are you dying?” “N-not exactly.” “Then you don’t need me,” comes Jason’s lazy, uninterested reply. The call ends with a click. . Steph doesn't know what's more embarrassing: that she's been locked in a closet during a party, or the fact that her "friends" aren't really her friends. And to top it all off, Jason's the only one who can come rescue her.
adelfie's words: I love that Steph isn't fighting a big bad villain -- there's something so soft and strong in realizing that other people's judgments aren't what truly matter.
penance by cuephrase / @cuephrase
After Tim dies, his soul remains stuck as a ghost at the Manor. Forced to watch Dick and Bruce grieve him and unable to do anything, the only thing making the afterlife bearable is Jason. Until the day his ghost departs. Tim assumes that Jason has passed on. But then the Red Hood breaks into the Cave. And for the first time, someone can see Tim.
Cue's words: i just had an inordinately fun time writing it!! there was a lot of catharsis in the process, and i’m very proud of the ending because i feel like i was able to preserve the fic’s bittersweetness- like the happy ending didn’t dilute the sorrow and instead they were able to complement each other
two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever / @jbsforever
In a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party. But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.
JBS' words: it's a story that centers around jason learning just how much crime alley appreciates him. it's also a sibling bonding fic between jason and tim
Ghosts From The Past by red_jaebyrd / @red-jaebyrd
Tim stared at an old poster of the ‘The Flying Graysons’ and his stomach dropped. He immediately fixated on the young boy’s smiling face with his eyes bright and full of life; frozen in time in eternal happiness. It was such a sharp contrast to the last memory Tim had of the youngest Grayson laying broken and still on the circus floor. Tim sighed. He wasn’t just at any old circus. He was back at Haly’s Circus where his nightmares had started and never really stopped. Or Bruce is Ghost Hunter and takes Jason and Tim with him to investigate strange happenings at Haly's Circus.
Jae's words: I wanted to try and write my own version of a no capes au adding in my own lore about the characters and their new world.
sons of sky by ScarlettSwordMoon, Kiwilart / @kiwilart
Dick is thirteen, leader of the Teen Titans, and already starting to chaff under Bruce’s thumb. When Bruce gets de-aged to fourteen, Dick thinks this experience will finally bring their partnership back to working order. It doesn’t. And then it does.
Scarlett's words: This fic has challenged me in so many fun directions. It is terrifying and exhilarating to write young!Bruce and to really try my hand at a big novel length plot line. Of all my WIPs, this is the most fun to work on because I'm working with an artist, Kiwili, who supports me during the loneliest parts of the drafting process, and also draws amazing art for the fic. I'm very proud of what we've done so far and very excited to be close to finishing.
we'll meet again some sunny day by Ms_Trickster / @ms-trickster
When Talia rests a hand atop her bed, the sound of paper crunching beneath it fills her ears.
Missy's words: Talia is a character that deserves a lot more depth and affection and it was a blast to write a story in which she is loved.
#batman#dc#fic rec#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne#stephanie brown#batfamily#batfam#holy server batman#fic rec list#brought to you by yours truly#cassandra cain#click the links at your own discretion!#AND BE PROUD OF WHAT WE'VE ACHIEVED
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THE PRINCE OF WALES HAS GIVEN AN INTERVIEW AT THE END OF HIS OFFICIAL VISIT TO SOUTH AFRICA.
During the candid and emotional interview he admitted how the past few months had been ‘brutal’ due to the health scares The Princess of Wales and King Charles went through :
‘Honestly? It’s been dreadful. It’s probably been the hardest year in my life. So, trying to get through everything else and keep everything on track has been really difficult. But I’m so proud of my wife, I’m proud of my father, for handling the things that they have done. But from a personal family point of view, it’s been, yeah, it’s been brutal.’
Speaking about the Princess of Wales he said that :
‘She’s doing well. Doing well.’
Speaking about what it meant to host the awards in Africa, a continent he connects very deeply to as he spent time there following his mother's passing and it is the place he proposed to The Princess of Wales as well, he said :
'Hearing the Circle of Life. I don’t know about everyone else, but hearing the Lion King and things like that gets me quite emotional, So, when they started singing and I saw the clips from the top of Table Mountain and we were all there and it’s happened. I did feel quite emotional.'
He then spoke about his children watching the awards saying :
'I don’t know yet. I haven’t clocked in with them yet but I hope they did.'
William added of his relaxed demeanour in Cape Town this week :
'It’s interesting you say that ’cause I couldn’t be less relaxed this year, so it’s very interesting you’re all seeing that. But it’s more a case of just crack on and you’ve got to keep going. I enjoy my work and I enjoy pacing myself and keeping sure I have got time for my family too.'
He also spoke about his family's opinions on his beard :
'Well Charlotte didn’t like it the first time. I got floods of tears the first time I grew a beard, so I had to shave it off. And then I grew it back. I thought, hang on a second and I convinced her it was going to be okay'
He also spoke about his new role as the Prince of Wales and how he intends to 'royal' in a different way than his grandmother and father before him :
‘You mention the added responsibility and the freedom in the same sentence,’ he laughed. It’s a tricky one. Do I like more responsibility? No. Do I like the freedom that I can build something like Earthshot then yes. And that’s the future for me. It’s very important with my role and my platform, that I’m doing something for good. That I’m helping people’s lives and I’m doing something that is genuinely meaningful.’
William spoke about the BTS work that goes into setting up huge events like Earthshot successfully :
‘So, the Earthshot is a culmination if you like of all that put together. But it takes a lot of work, and there’s a lot of unseen stuff that goes on, a lot of meetings, a lot of people coming in, a lot of chatting and phone calls, letters, all trying to sort of make the Earthshot get to being the best possible entity it can be'
He talked about his frustrations over reluctance as well as more involvement from buisness & governments saying :
‘I’d like it to be more a team sport. And so, when you go and approach people...business...or even government...and say, listen, we’re building this incredible thing. Please come on board. Some people are extremely fast and keen to it. Others take a little bit longer and it’s those people who take a little bit longer, I’m like, guys, we just don’t have the time.'
'So, yes, I get a bit frustrated that it takes a long time to convince people that this is worthy of their attention. But I guess that’s the nature of a global environment prize, you start from scratch and it’s going to take a bit of time.'
On his hope for the solutions & the impact and his message to those who can invest, he said :
'So you guys have seen for yourselves the scale of the solutions. I mean, they cover all sectors in all walks of life. Brilliant people, some barely started, some been a bit more established and have a bit more money. But overall all doing fantastic work in the same direction. I think the key thing for us is how do we translate that into more impact, more scale, and ultimately, greater progress in tackling environmental challenges.’
On his hope for more involvement, ‘I definitely think so. We’re giving this amazing platform to all of them. And really it’s an amazing platform for business to come in and poach what they want. But if we keep waiting....we’re going to keep eating into time that we just don’t have. And so my message to business really is: hurry up and be courageous. Invest faster because we just don’t have that time.’
#prince of wales#the prince of wales#prince william#william prince of wales#british royal family#british royals#royalty#brf#royals#royal#british royalty#kate middleton#princess of wales#the princess of wales#princess catherine#catherine princess of wales#about catherine#about the waleses#by william#SA24#Earthshot24#InterviewEarthshotSA24#quotes#8112024#princess charlotte of wales#princess charlotte#king charles iii
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i love love love your writing and i have been waiting for your requests to be open!! can you please write a billy hargrove x reader story where he rejects her and then he regrets it and has to grovel?
Like she is super nice and friendly with everybody, and she can even get Billy to soften up to her. She's had a crush on Billy for the longest time like since he's arrives in Hawkins but he always is hooking up with somebody or flirting with somebody else. Then she notices that he's been alone for a couple of weeks and thinks this is her chance so she confesses to him and he lets her down gently because he doesn't feel the same (he so does but in his experience romance never lasts and he could never ever bear to lose her) and so she decides that having him as a friend is better than nothing.
But obviously she can't act the way she acted before and she starts distancing herself from him. No more grabbing his arm for security when the hallways are crowded. No more asking him for rides to and from school. No more chattering in his ear during lunch. Instead, she's doing those things with her best friend Steve or Eddie because they knew about her heartbreak and they're trying their best to be supportive.
And obviously he can tell right away that things are different and he's fighting the urge to shove Steve/Eddie away and take back his place next to you. He's trying to reach out and spend time with you and he doesn't care if he sounds desperate when he's doing so but she keeps blowing him off because she wants to get over him and she thinks he's just pitying her.
He finally snaps one night and sneaks into her room and tells her how he's been going crazy. She apologizes for being distant and says that she's moving on so that they can be friends. And Billy just says screw that and he doesn't care what he said before he just wants HER.
Sorry if this is a lot but I can't wait to read what you do with this!!!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Relationship guy
Y/N and Billy had a touchy friendship. From afar they looked to be a couple, with the way they held hands, hugged, kissed each other's cheeks, and the way Billy would do anything for her. She was the only person in the world Billy had a soft spot for, that had to mean something.
There wasn't much time when they were apart. Billy was at her house first thing in the morning, the door open as he waited. The way he leaned against his car made her heart race every time. Then they arrive at school, and as usual, everyone is watching. They moved around the school and when people got too rowdy, Y/N would latch herself to Billy's arm.
"I got you," he smiled as he threw his arm over her shoulder. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.
Lunch was Y/N's favorite part of the school day. Not only because of no class but because she got to talk to Billy non-stop for those few moments.
"Do you think you'll win today's game?" Y/N asked, crunching down on Billy's ignored apple.
Billy scoffed, stuffing his face. "Duh, I'm on the team."
Y/N laughed and nodded, "Fair point, and Steve too!"
"Oh yeah because he does a lot," Billy rolled his eyes.
"Be nice, he is my other best friend," Y/N playfully lectured.
"Yeah, but we know I'm better,"
"In basketball or being a friend?" Y/N asked to clarify
"Both, babygirl," he winked.
The bell rang and they packed up their trash. Before they went separate ways for class, Y/N kissed Billy's cheek goodbye.
~~~
Y/N fell for him, of course. She had eyes for Billy ever since he moved to Hawkins, but he didn't have the eyes for her. His eyes looked at every girl that passed by him. Y/N never made a move because he was always sleeping around with a new girl, but lately, he seemed to be alone more than usual.
With his eyes not looking elsewhere, Y/N found a boost of confidence to ask Billy out.
They were lying in his bed listening to music when she turned to look at him. She took in his handsome features, studying how gorgeous he was up close. She watched as his lips formed a smile and he turned to look at her.
"Why are you staring at me?" he laughed, placing an arm under his head and propping himself up. He reached out and placed his arm over her waist. She smiled at the feeling, her heart racing.
"Have you ever seen me more than just a friend?" she asked, her stomach twisted as his smile slowly disappeared from his face.
"What do you mean?" he asked, licking his lips nervously.
She took a deep breath, cuddling closer into his warm body. He hoped she couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding.
"I like you, Billy. I have for a long time but never said anything. Lately, you've been alone and it got me thinking maybe this is my chance to tell you."
Billy was in awe of her soft voice and the beauty of her heart. The truth was, he did like her. He was alone because no girl could get his mind off of her. She was the only person in his life that made him happy and he wasn't sure if he'd live if he lost her. He never tried to have a relationship so he had zero hope he would treat her the way she deserved.
"I think you are incredibly beautiful, inside and out. You've given my life a whole new purpose and I'm grateful to have you. I'm not a relationship guy and that won't change. I love you and hold a place for you in my heart, but in a friendly way." Billy said gently. He softly rubbed her hip as she sighed.
"If you were a relationship guy, would you go for me?" she asked, moving to look up at him. There was so much emotion in his blue eyes and she wished she could detect it.
"My first and only choice, baby," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Are you going to be okay? I really don't want to lose you as my friend," Billy admitted. He feared she'd pull away and he wouldn't blame her.
"Yeah, I'll be okay," she smiled. The rejection slightly hurt but she had a gut feeling Billy wasn't the boyfriend type anyway.
Billy hummed as a response. He moved to wrap both his arms around her, setting his head on hers as she cuddled into his chest.
~~~
Turns out she wasn't as okay as she thought she'd be. Spending all her time with Billy was fun and exciting. But now all she could think about was how badly she wanted more and how it would never happen. The kisses to her cheek that made her heart race were starting to make her stomach sour. And riding with him to and from school felt suffocating as his cologne filled the space.
She realized she would never be able to move on from him if she didn't change things. So, she figured creating a little distance would help her clear her head and heal her heart. Once she felt over him, they could resume their friendship and it wouldn't hurt her anymore.
Y/N got in Billy's car, her mind reeling. She was in deep thought and had been struggling with what to do.
"Steve is going to bring me home today," she said quietly. Billy turned down the music and turned to look at her. But she kept her eyes on the road as he drove.
"Oh, why?" He asked, moving his eyes back to the road. He ignored the ping of jealousy that ran through him.
"I think I need some space from you. Not in a bad way, it's just to help me. We'll still hang out and be best friends. I promise," she smiled. She reached over to place a comforting hand on his thigh.
Billy wanted to do what was best for her, but selfishly he didn't want space. He nodded and focused on the road, he hoped she couldn't see the water filling his eyes as he pulled into the parking lot.
~
The end of the day arrived and Billy could feel her lack of presence. He walked in the hallways alone, watching as she clung to Steve instead. She didn't sit with him at lunch, but that didn't stop him from staring at her the whole time. He dreaded driving home alone all day and he hated that it arrived. He also hated that her needing space meant everything changed.
He gave her a small wave as she drove by in Steve's car. His heart sped up as she excitedly waved back with a big smile. At least she still cared about him.
~~~
Billy tried to be patient with giving her space but after a week, he was ready to throw in the towel. He had to physically hold himself back from slamming Steve against the lockers whenever Y/N touched him. That was Billy's place. He fought the urge to sit at her new table, and beg her to gossip about her friends, anything to listen to her talk.
He missed driving with her, her smell in his passenger seat was slowly fading.
He sat on his bed as he held the phone to his ear, he hoped with everything in him that she would pick up.
"Hello?"
Billy smiled at the sound of her voice, "There she is, I've missed you," he admitted.
"I've missed you too, Billy," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
"Want to come over? We can order your favorite and watch those horrible movies you like," Billy offered.
"That sounds amazing, but I can't tonight. I'm sorry."
"That's alright, maybe next time," Billy said disappointed. The call ended shortly after and Billy slammed the phone down. He pulled at his hair as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He was mad, frustrated, and hurt.
"You okay?"
Billy looked up as hot tears streamed down his face. Max stood at his door with a worried expression, a look he'd never seen her have before.
"I'm fine," he snapped. He walked up and slammed his door. Max didn't take it personally, it was the first time she ever saw Billy cry.
"I know we aren't friends, but it's okay to be upset. It's okay to feel things other than anger." Max said before she walked away.
~
The more time they spent apart, the more desperate Billy got. The more he called, the more he begged. He didn't care if he sounded crazy or pathetic, all he wanted to do was see her.
She noticed all the attention, and it was hard to look the other way. But she knew she'd never get over the love she had for him if she went back. She couldn't talk to him without getting lost in his eyes, or be in the same car inhaling his cologne. She couldn't touch his skin and not think about how much she wanted to taste it.
She figured he was pitying her, trying to lessen the blow of rejection. She knew Billy cared about her and it was something he'd do, but it didn't help her. It only made it harder.
She went to turn off her lamp when she heard knocking on her window. Only one person went through her window so she prepared herself to see him again.
She quickly fluffed her hair and smoothed out her sleep clothes. She walked over and opened the curtain. She didn't say anything as she unlocked the window and let him through.
"I can't do it anymore. I tried and I want to do what is best for you but I can't do it anymore!" Billy ranted as he paced around her room. "I can't take the distance. It's selfish, I know but I am falling apart here."
"Billy," she sighed, "It's hard now but trust me, it'll help us in the end."
"No, it won't!"
"If we don't do this now, I will never get over you. It'll damage our friendship in the long run. I'll never be able to accept when you get a girlfriend or decide one day to get married. I'll be tortured and unhappy. I'm doing this for the future us," she explained. "This is the only way I'll be happy for you."
"I don't care about future us. I care about us right now. I care about you being in my life right now." Billy begged. She watched Billy walk around the room, tears building in his eyes.
"I can't have you in my life right now!" Y/N argued, "You don't understand how painful it is to be in love with someone who can't love you back."
"What if I can?" he whispered, she felt her anger come to a halt.
Y/N scoffed, "You said it yourself, you're not a relationship guy."
"I don't give a fuck what I said. It was all bullshit, okay? I'm scared and have no idea what I'm doing and I don't know if I'll be who you want me to be, but I don't care. I want you," he confessed. He walked over and placed his hand on her cheek. She felt her breathing pick up as he looked down at her, so much emotion in his eyes.
He leaned in and she followed, turning her chin up as she closed the gap between them. She sighed in bliss as his warm lips worked against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, desperately pushing her body against his. Kissing her was better than Billy imagined, she was sweet and soft. He wanted to beat himself up for waiting so long.
Needing air, he pulled away. He placed his forehead on hers, opening his eyes as he panted against her mouth. "I'm ready to be a relationship guy. I love you."
"I love you too, Billy," she smiled, placing her lips on his.
~
Billy couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he pulled up to her house. He got out of the car and opened her door. He crossed his arms as he waited for her to walk out.
"There's my girl," he whistled as she walked down the driveway. She rolled her eyes but blushed at the nickname. She greeted him with a kiss, loving the way he wrapped his arms around her to deepen it.
"Good morning to me," Billy said against her lips. She pulled away to smile. She got in the car and Billy followed.
His hand was on her knee the whole drive. Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach ever since they kissed. She couldn't believe she and Billy were in a relationship.
They held hands as they walked into the school. He was happier than ever to have her by his side again, and this time as his girlfriend.
#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove angst x reader#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove request#billy hargrove angst x female reader#ashwhowrites#ashwhowrites Billy Hargrove#billy Hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fluff x reader
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I wrote this because I needed to get it off my chest. But then I didn't want to put it on my own blog because I didn't want to deal with the discourse. So, I decided to send it to you in the hope you'd put it up.
I've been in many different fandoms, and I think the only fandom where I ever very actively shipped a canon couple was Torchwood. (If there are people not shipping Jack and Ianto, please never tell me.) That means, of course, there were always other LI of my ships to deal with. And somehow, no matter the fandom (NICS, Hawaii 5-0, Sherlock (mostly), Stargate, etc pp) it's always the same: If the fic takes place at a point in canon where one or more people in the desired ship are currently in a relationship usually one of two things happens: 1. The canon LI just doesn't seem to exist in the fic. 2. There is somewhere one line about "Oh, what about Character A?" "Ah, we broke up. No big deal." (And writing this, I'm kinda laughing now about the Buck/Natalia break-up between seasons 6 and 7.)
So, it's very strange and confusing to watch this part of the Buddie fandom that's so enraged about Tommy and has made hating him their whole fandom personality, who instead of doing what's always been done with LIs that were in the way of a ship created this whole subgenre on 9-1-1 fics now whose whole focus is "How do we overcome the obstacle of the unwanted LI to get our ship". (As I write this, there are 800 fics on ao3 tagged with both ships!) Where did the mentality of "ignore the LI in the way of our ship" vanish to? It was there for other LIs of Buck and Eddie in the past, why isn't it there for Tommy? Why can't a multishipper go into the Buddie tag in peace without being slapped in the face with Tommy bashing everywhere? (And why do you have to bash Buck and Eddie, too, while doing so? I know you don't recognize it, but that's what you're doing with many of those takes about the cheating. That's what you are doing every time you make Eddie into a violent caricature just so you have someone who can beat Tommy up.)
The hate against Tommy has a very different quality and edge to it than the hate for other LIs in the past, and this new genre you all created is a huge part of that.
And before anyone starts, yes there are a lot of bashing fics about the other LI. I've read a lot of them. The vast majority of those are not about finding a way to get the LI out of the way for Buddie (especially not by glorifying Buddie cheating on their LIs) They are about exploring little things of the characters people find jarring or exaggerating those things to use as a plot or plot device. (e.g. Ana's ableist take after the whole skateboard incident. Or her unprofessional behavior of flirting with a parent during parent-teacher-conference.)
As for the very worn-out mantra/whine of "Why could I peacefully hate on the female LIs in the past but aren't allowed to do the same with Tommy?" No one would bother you if you stopped pushing your hate on everyone else.
But you're trying to infiltrate every single nook with your hatred because somehow you don't understand while you're entitled to your hate about Tommy, other people are just as equally entitled to their love and appreciation of the character and the representation he provides. It's not just the Buddie tag people are bombarded with your hate in. No matter what tag — Bathena, Henren, Madney, every single character tag — you'll stumble over Tommy hate pretty fast. Because you tag them all if they matter for your post or not. (I mean, you've done that with Buddie in general for years, which also was never okay!) Or find cheap excuses to include them in your post.
People would let you wallow in your hate peacefully if you wouldn't attack anyone who didn't agree with you. Especially those gay and bi men in this fandom who are full of gratefulness and praise for the representation of their lived experiences 9-1-1 has given them through Tommy and Bucktommy. Who've been calling you out for your hateful and phobic behavior because there is no avoiding being confronted with it.
No one would bother you if you wouldn't post public lists of people you plan to bully in the future!
I guess the point of this long-ass rant is: Get in your fucking lane and let everyone else enjoy the fandom, too. Keep your hate where others can avoid it. It's not that difficult. And believing everyone has to agree with you about your hate is a huge red flag.
Perfectly said, anon 👏
"You" = bestie boos btw
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Die With a Smile: Chan x Male!Reader
Pairing: Chan x Male!Reader
Word Count: 7k
Genre: Smut, fluff | AU: idolverse, ninth member au
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: An unpleasant encounter becomes a show of affection and a near confession from Chan. Have two finally become one? / 'I'd wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile. If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you' "Die With a Smile" by Bruno Mars, Lady Gaga
Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.
Tags: polyamory, polycule, homophobia, mentions of homophobia, chan being the protective leader he is, peek at angry chan, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming, 69-position, shower foreplay, shower stuff, dom/sub undertones, pet names (baby, good boy), creampie, multiple sex rounds, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum eating, spanking.
Tags: @james-is-here @onementally-unstabel-kid @omg-lexiloveyou @drinkingrumandcocacola @disverseinterests @oreoqueen @succubus-hansol @belladonna6-6-6-6-6 @channiesbum
Here's What You Missed on Newbie!
****
A day with Chan. You couldn’t believe your luck. You loved hanging out with all the members, but the leader carried a special place in your heart. The both of you talked about everything and anything. You found yourself telling him things you never dared to tell anyone else; he did the same in return. In an industry where you had to wear masks, it felt nice having someone to be fully honest with. You could be who you truly are with him, and never worried about what happened afterwards. You always made up excuses to be around him: pretending you’d asked someone else to hang but they’d been busy; that you wanted to show him a melody you’d worked on or look over lyrics for his opinion; that you simply wished for his company over anyone in the world.
Yet, the most frustrating thing lately has been his hesitation. While everyone else jumped on you the moment they could, Chan kept a tight hold on himself. No matter how many times you made it clear you wanted him, he promised ‘later, YNie’. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of him late at night, when you tossed and turned in bed and sleep evaded you. You pictured his strong, hard body on top of yours, hips spreading your thighs as he kissed you. Even though you had hot, kinky sex with the other members, you wanted Chan to be special. You knew he’d make it passionate and gentle. You knew you’d spend ages exploring his body, kissing the most sensitive spots and caressing his lean muscles. He’d do the same to you, holding you so close your bodies stayed melted together.
You wished he’d at least kiss you.
“-So, I told him we could work on it tomorrow,” he told you as he finished his last set. “Changbin always shows me stuff late at night when neither of us can sleep. He says he gets inspired at night.”
“I know how he feels,” you said, taking his place on the bench. “I started working on this ballad the other night that I’ve been meaning to show you.”
“A ballad?” he asked, spotting you by holding the bar with two fingers.
“Yeah, I guess I was in a sentimental mood last night and it inspired me.” You wouldn’t say that you’d been looking at pictures of you both on a walk around the city. “I can show it to you later. I really want to see what you think.”
He helped you with the bar a few times. You’d gotten better at working out since you became Changbin’s gym buddy. Stays liked the muscles you’d developed, and, yes, you hoped Chan might notice you. When you ended your set, you thought of going to work on your legs when Chan got up close to you. No product in his hair, his natural curls were pushed back from his face with a cap so they stuck out the back. Without makeup, you got to see the bare beauty up close. You admired the shape of his full lips, the size of his nose and how his eyes sparkled like they carried galaxies in them. You saw his unblemished skin, and sharp jawline. How could one person carry all the beauty in the world in them?
“Hey,” he said, almost low enough that it stayed between both of you, “I was wondering if, um, you know…” he pursed his lips and looked away shyly, “If you wanted to, maybe, if you wanted and it’s totally okay if you don’t…”
“Hyung?” Was it happening?
“If you wanted to go out with me tonight, maybe?” he asked with a grimace, afraid of what you might say. “Not as friends?”
“Like, a real date?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “If you don’t want to, it’s cool. We can stay friends. I just thought…you know, we’ve been hanging out a lot since you joined our group and I really like being around you, so I thought you might want to go on a real date with me? Like I said-”
“-Yes,” you cut him off, unable to stop your hammering heart. “I’d really like that.”
“You would?” he said, surprised and hopeful.
“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding. “I thought I was going to have to ask you, since I’ve sort of been waiting for you.”
He laughed embarrassed, “Oh, wow. I guess all the flirting and teasing should’ve been a giveaway, huh?”
“It was a bit of one, but,” you added quickly, “We don’t have to do that. I don’t expect it when we are alone together. I like being with you outside of, you know, sex stuff.”
“But, you do want to, right?”
“Channie-hyung,” you said, “Look at you. Of course, I do.”
“Good to know,” he smirked, bringing you even closer. “Changbin told me you guys did it here the other day.”
“It’s not my fault he can’t keep his hands to himself,” you defended with a smile. You too thought about Changbin’s strong hands on your hips as he bent you over the bench press last week. “It’d been quick, but so good.”
“As hot as that sounds you really shouldn’t do that here,” he cautioned. “Someone could have seen you guys.”
“That’s the point of public sex, hyung.”
“I mean, someone could film it and out you two. While I do like thinking of you getting slammed by Changbin,” he said, fixing the strap of your tank top, “Just be more careful where you do it, okay?”
“Of course, hyung.”
He gave your chin a small pinch before pulling away. “I’ll go get my stuff from the locker room and we can go.”
“Sure,” you said, watching him leave for the locker room doors.
The moment the door closed, you jumped for joy. Faint squeals made it past your gritted teeth and butterflies soared in your stomach. A real date with Chan? It couldn’t be really happening. You didn’t care if nothing happened afterwards; just going out on an actual date with him got you one step closer to his heart. You picked up your stuff with shaky hands. You tried controlling the bubbling nerves, but visions of your date kept coming at you. Yet, this light was snuffed out when a voice came from behind you.
“So, the company hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, Park?”
Kim Beomgyu stood between the machines with two men on either side. You recognized them as Hyungshik and Daniel. Beomgyu looked just as large and intimidating as the last time you’d seen him. Standing a few inches taller than you, he’d spent ages developing his buff body. Fans of theirs called him the muscle pig, since he worked out and ate so much. Every butterfly in your stomach died seeing him so close. Your palms became sweaty, and you suddenly want to run. Remembering your last encounter, you didn’t want to go through it a second time.
“No,” you said, trying to keep up a face of courage. “You see that I’m here, right?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t leave on your own,” he said, coming closer to you. “I thought the ass kicking I gave you made it clear: Nobody wants you here.” He gave you a light shove, and your heart dropped into your stomach.
“I don’t know if you noticed, hyung,” you said, putting spite into your voice, “But they put me in one of the most popular kpop groups in the world. When was the last time Zero won anything? Oh, that’s right. You haven’t because your music is shit and your dancing is awful.”
The three of them laughed, “That’s the best you can do? So what if you’re a Stray Kid? I can still beat your ass,” he shoved you again. “This is a No-Fairy Zone. You better go before I enforce it.”
“They seem to have an open door policy on assholes, though.”
Chan appeared from behind you, immediately getting between you and Beomgyu. You saw the tongue-in-cheek sign of anger Chan exhibited sometimes. His body became tense, and he stared right at Beomgyu.
‘Oh, you poor dumb bastard…’
“You’re actually defending this fairy, Bahng?” Beomgyu asked in disbelief. “What? Are you his boyfriend or something?”
“He’s one of my members. I take care of my members, unlike you.” He stepped up to him, “I suggest you and your lapdogs go to the other side of the gym and pretend you never saw us.”
“Or what? You’ll sprinkle your fairy dust on me?”
“No, your nose will start bleeding.”
“What?”
“Because that’s where my fist is going to land if you keep insulting YN. You made your point: you’re a self-hating gay man who can’t confront his sexuality. We get it. You're attracted to YN and you can't help it so you get angry. Denial is natural in the beginning stages.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu said, though not as confident as before.
“I saw how you kept looking at YN when we were at MAMA,” he said. “You were practically undressing him with your eyes. Is that why you beat him up the first time? Did you get so upset over it that you took it out on him?” He got in Beomgyu’s face, “Did he get you so hard you almost hated him for it?”
“You’re a liar. I ain’t no fucking f-”
“-Sure, keep telling yourself that. You might believe it one day. YN-yah, let’s go. Now.”
You snatched up your phone and quickly followed Chan out of the gym. Neither of you spoke on your way to the parking lot. Chan’s anger seemed to vibrate through him and kept you away. He even ticked his head to one side like he did when he disapproved or was angry about something. You saw his knuckles whiten around the handle of his duffle bag. Every Stray Kid member knew not to talk to him when he was upset. Once in the car, you kept quiet as Chan made to start the car. But, then he didn’t.
“Don’t tell the members what happened,” he said, voice still steely. “Changbin-ah would go after him if he knew, and Minho-yah would be right behind him. I don’t want a bad light put on us.”
“You said you would hit him…”
“If I had to, but I would’ve preferred not to do that. Beomgyu’s a bitch and he would’ve cried to the company if I’d hit him.” He looked over at you, “Don’t tell them, okay? Promise me you won’t.”
“I won’t.”
“Not even Hyunjin or Felix. Nobody.”
“Nobody,” you nodded.
He started the car and began driving. You didn't utter a word to him the entire ride. His anger kept an invisible barrier between the two of you. You knew his anger remained directed at Beomgyu, but the air felt too tense to speak.
He brought you to his dorm instead of yours. You guessed Changbin and Jisung weren't home when you walked in to find a quiet apartment. Chan walked over to their open floor kitchen, grabbing a beer and popping it open. You stared at him for a moment, unable to focus on anything but him.
You couldn’t recall someone defending you before. The Zero members sort of kept away whenever Beomgyu started going at you. Friends of yours didn’t know how to react when it happened, and your parents would rather let it happen than risk a scandal. You thought you might cry, remembering how he’d immediately shielded you from Beomgyu and threatened to hurt him if he kept going.
“Nobody’s ever done that for me,” you said quietly. “Not once.”
“I’ll do it as many times as I need to,” he said, taking another gulp of his drink. “I care about you, YNie.”
“You do?” You came up to him, your body aching to be closer. Beomgyu’s taunting eyes and hurtful words stuck themselves in your head. You saw his lean arms and wanted to be in them. Only there did you feel truly safe. “Really?”
“Of course,” he said, surprised by your question.
You stopped inches away from him. “Is that why you were so touchy with me at MAMA this year?’ you asked, thinking about your first major performance with Stray Kids. “You knew he was watching me?”
You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But, now that you did, Chan had been a bit more flirty and affectionate than normal. Your skin still prickled remembering his hands on the exposed parts of your outfit, the flirty comments he made in your ear and how cute he acted towards you. A part of you thought he’d done it to distract you from your old group, but now you realize it was to keep Beomgyu away…or make him jealous. Even Changbin said he was pushing the boundaries. Chan gave a small smirk at your question.
“At first, I thought he wanted to get you alone so he could bully you,” he admitted, “But then he kept checking you out. We were in the waiting area with everyone else, and I noticed he was looking in your direction a lot. I’ve seen enough leering to know when someone wants to fuck,” he chuckled. “Then, his aggression towards you suddenly made sense to me. He’s gay too, and just doesn’t want to admit it to himself. Having someone around who he knew was gay I guess sort of sparked this self-loathing. He took it out on you because you make him feel stuff he thinks he isn’t allowed to feel.” He put down his drink and cupped your cheek. “But, it works out for me.”
“How?”
“Less competition.”
For months, you’d pictured Chan passionately kissing you, whether during sex or not. His lips, warm and soft, felt better than any pair you’d kissed before. Your heart blossomed and every ounce of yearning came out in your kiss. He kept you in place by the cheek and the back of your neck, and your hand naturally fell on his chest. You wanted him to know how you felt without words. Words meant nothing, but kisses meant everything. You moved closer for him to deepen the kiss, wet tongues touching one another as he groaned softly in your mouth. Even when you broke apart, you both shared soft, brief kisses before diving back in for another deep, passionate one.
“Perfect,” he breathed when you broke apart, “Better than I imagined.”
“So much better,” you agreed, kissing him again.
Lips finding yours again, his hands slid your shirt up over your head. You returned the favor, slipping underneath the muscle shirt and peeling it off his toned body. Since joining, you’d seen Chan shirtless a fair share of times but not this close. You saw every definition, unable to stop yourself from tracing them up to his chest before removing his shirt completely. His hands went around your waist to your back, not moving down but instead up to the backs of your shoulders. This forced you closer to him, your body pressing up against his like it was made to be. He was intoxicating. This sudden freedom to touch him left you eager to feel every part your hands could reach. For once in your life, you became one with another person. This did not have the shallow, lustful hunger you experienced so often. Something deeper hid behind the veil and slowly made its way up your stomach. Reaching up into his soft, dark curls, you gave them a light tug to keep him steady as you tilted your head to one side.
He guided you through the apartment to their bathroom, excitement building up in your gut. Once inside, he pressed you to the counter and continued kissing you. Every vein in your body pumped blood straight to your center, where Chan’s thigh brushed into you. The gentle touch impacted you, but not as it usually did. Only made you want more of him. One hand kept you balanced, while the other roamed your body. Besides your nipples, his thumb rolled around the dip of your hips close to the v-line; the fingers tenderly caressed your stomach and the sternum of your chest to your neck again. Hand wrapped around your throat, he didn’t squeeze. He simply held you like that as his other hand worked on removing the rest of your clothes. Chan groaned when you started doing the same back. You hadn’t seen his dick since that first night, and you wanted to see it again.
Chan only broke away from you to turn on the shower, and your eyes raked over his nude body. They focused on the semi-hard cock between his thighs. The others had been right: you’re both roughly the same size. You couldn’t wait to have it in you. The water deemed good enough, Chan and you giggled as he brought you back into his arms underneath the shower head. Things became more slippery when the body wash came out. The sliding of his skin and hands on you sent more blood to your core. You grew more excited when he pressed your back to his chest, and worked his way past your hips.
“Chan-”
“-We have to make sure you’re clean everywhere, baby.”
A faint whine escaped you when both his hands reached your hardening length. He didn’t touch it right away. Chan focused on the areas around it. He crouched to lay gentle kisses on your ass cheeks while he rubbed the citrus lather on your thighs and legs. You shivered, and weakened when his ass grabbed both buttocks tenderly.
“When was the last time anyone touched this, hm?” he asked, kissing up your back and sucking the fleshier part of your neck.
“Changbin.”
“And now I get to. Oh, oops,” he said coyly when his hand slipped between your cheeks briefly. “Sorry, YNie,” three fingers rubbed against your ass hole and you leaned forward as it weakened you, “I didn’t mean to. The soap is so slippery,” he rolled his fingers in circles, “And your ass is so round and full. It just happened.”
His hand went further down to where your ass and balls met. You spread your legs out of habit to give him more access. “I only want to be thorough with you,” he said as he kissed along your shoulders, sucking and nibbling them occasionally.
“You’re so good to me, hyung,” you whimpered as he rolled your balls in his hand. “You always take such good care of me.”
“Of course I do,” he replied, letting go of them to bring you back in his arms. Your cock sticking straight out, it became sensitive to his touch. “You mean so much to me.” He paused at your shoulder, lips pressed to the crook of your neck. You sensed the words in the silence, “Is it crazy to say I felt that way before we even met?”
“What?” The butterflies in your stomach suddenly went wild.
“I followed you on Instagram and Tiktok before you joined, and, um, I kind of…”
“Yeah?”
“I planned on telling you this later,” he said, forehead on your shoulder and hands nowhere near your dick, “You know, when we’re not naked and hard in the shower but, um, you know, I really like you…Like a lot more than band members or friends…”
“Me too.”
Nothing else was said. A soapy hand started gliding up and down your shaft slowly, giving gentle squeezes to the tip between his fingers. “My sweet boy,” he continued, kissing your neck, “You’re my sweet boy. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” you grinned, giggling softly when he kept kissing close to your ear.
“You’ll be good for your leader?”
“Yes, Leader-nim.”
“That’s my boy.”
He turned your head to deeply kiss you. You moaned into his lips as he pumped only your tip, squeezing and rolling around it until you squirmed in his arms. Grabbing his other hand, you put it to your throat again and he knew what you wanted. He kept you in place by your neck as he played with the head of your dick.
“I’m not going to do anything particularly kinky, but if I do something you don’t like,” he said, “Just say ‘cherry’ and I’ll stop, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded as best you could.
“What’s our safe word?”
“Cherry.”
“Good boy.”
Then, it was your turn to wash him. Turning around in his arms, you instantly felt his dick poke yours. He gave a low hum when they brushed lightly over, and he brought you closer. You felt down the broad shoulders and vascular arms, tracing the natural veins that sometimes came out, before reaching his waistline. Chan’s breathing grew heavier when you passed over his stomach and chest again. His eyes stayed on your lips, eager to kiss them before he brought you to him by the back of your neck. You grew hard simply touching him. The both of you stood there under the water, fondling and exploring one another as you should. It felt natural. No rush to the bed. No hurry to get anywhere. You felt content simply touching and kissing. Even as your arousal grew, you did not want to end it so quickly.
“I should've done this sooner,” he said between kisses as you towel dried one another. “I've clearly been missing out on your cure-all ass.”
“My cure-all ass?” you laughed in disbelief. “Which of them said this?”
“Changbin,” he chuckled, kissing you. “He swears your ass makes his problems go away.”
Both of you laughed, “Hyunjin says my dick is ‘life-changing’. I don't know where it comes from. It's…alright.”
“I don't know,” he reached down between you and grabbed your erection, “I'm looking at it now and seeing a whole new perspective on life.”
You held back your laughter until it spilled over. “Maybe you should try it for yourself sometime,” you said, stroking him back, “I’m always down to help my leader better himself.”
“Another time,” he replied, dropping the towel and leading you out of the bathroom. “I’ve been looking at this all day,” he squeezed your ass until you squeaked and giggled, “And I can’t wait anymore.”
“I can’t either.”
He gave you several kisses on the way to his bedroom. On his bed, you barely took in anything else around you. Chan suddenly became your entire world, and you didn’t want to leave just yet. He laid on top of you, gently spreading your thighs as he kissed you again. Fresh from your shower, you took in the pine-scented body wash and the smoothness of his skin. His muscles were in a more relaxed state, becoming softer against your fingers.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said as he peppered kisses across your jawline. “So, so beautiful.”
“You too,” you breathed, wrapping yourself around him to keep him close. “Just when I think I've gotten used to it, you come around the corner and blow me away again.” The confession poured from you, eyes closing to savor his lips moving further down your body. “You make me feel safe…I don’t worry about things because I know you’re there to take care of me. I feel better after I’ve been around you…I’ve wanted this since we first met. I’ve wanted you, Channie. Please…” you breathed the last word, your hands sliding into his dark curls as he reached your hardon, “Don’t make me wait anymore. Please…”
“I won’t, baby,” he promised, kissing down your length to your balls. “We’re both going to get,” he moved to your inner thighs and lifted them by the knees, “Exactly what we want.” He reached up to one knee, massaging the backs of them, and said, “You’ve become such a special person to me. I’ll always take care of you…” He kissed back down to your center, “In any way I can.”
You twitched when his mouth encompassed the tip. Still holding onto your knees, he sunk his mouth inch by inch onto your dick. You looked down to see his shoulder and back muscles flexing in this position, the veins in his arms more noticeable in the slight strain to be propped upwards. It resembled every fantasy you’ve ever had about him. Your entire body electrified each time he reached the base and softly hummed around you. His full lips sucked you lightly, and you felt his tongue sliding against the veins of your dick. When you saw his hips grinding into the bed, the request slipped from your lips.
“Let me suck you too.”
Chan didn’t question it. He laid back on the bed and let you position yourself on top of him. Every urge inside you screamed to fuck his mouth, but you refused to ruin the moment with hastiness. Grabbing onto one another, you both continued. A bit thicker than some of the others, you took a moment to adjust to his size. The combination of finally having him filling your mouth and you filling his created muffled whimpering. Neither of you took the other one out completely. You didn’t want the sensation to end. Chan only elevated it when his hands grasped your ass cheeks. You squirmed on top of you when you felt him begin tenderly squeezing them, thumbs grazing the hole. When you felt him begin guiding you on his face, you carefully started sliding in and out of his mouth on your own. You let him do the same, staying completely still for his dick to penetrate your mouth. Still not rough or quick, he sucked harder when you withdrew and only licked the tip when you hung it over him and sunk back inside. You groaned at the dick stuffing your face. The taste of him dragged across your tongue, turning into a salty drool that you slurped and licked up whenever he pulled out.
Two fingers rolled around your ass hole again, and Chan let out a muffled chuckle when you trembled. “Sit on my face, baby,” he said between breaths, “Let me tongue fuck you.”
With a bit of maneuvering, you planted your bottom right on his face as requested. You didn’t regret it at all. Chan kept them open, he swiped his tongue over and around you as it tickled your insides. You continued stroking the wet cock in front of you, occasionally bending down to lick up the beads of precum. He was incredibly hard. Hard enough that it stood on its own when you let go and only used your mouth. Chan didn’t stop you from grinding into his face; he actually encouraged it once his tongue snaked inside. When you managed to stay still, he wriggled and whirled his tongue between your clenched walls and shoved as deep as he could. Not enough to make you cum right away, but it was enough to stroke him faster and harder.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned when he removed his tongue to give teasing licks, “Fuck, baby, like that. Jerk me off like that.”
Chan’s hips bucked upwards and his muscles tensed as you squeezed and jerked him. Even if your arm burned, you kept the pace just for him. His dick pulsated and throbbed in your hand, and you knew he was close by the curling toes and the grip of your ass. Then, you stopped which made him grunt inside you.
“Please, don’t cum yet,” you said in your smallest, sweetest voice. “I want cum with you.”
“I can hold it,” he assured you, “Don’t you worry about that. Keep sucking my dick,” he ordered, “I want to fuck your pretty throat just like you’ve wanted.”
Holding the back of your neck with one hand, Chan kept you in place and started thrusting his hips upwards. You never felt such satisfaction before. You kept your mouth wide open so he heard the gagging sounds and felt your drool dripping down his length. Streams of curses mixed with your name as he let go of his restraint. He said everything you’d always pictured him saying.
“Such a good boy…taking your leader’s cock so well and letting him use you like this…Fuck, YN…”
“I only want to make you happy, Leader-nim,” you breathed when he pulled out, taking hold of him to tap him on your face and lips. “You do so much for us and you're so good to me. I want to make you feel good.”
“Oh?”
You yelped and giggled when he rolled you over, this time being on top. Settling himself over you facing forward, Chan dug into your mouth at a new angle. You held onto his thighs, nails softly digging into the firm muscles as he started rocking back and forth. He never took his eyes off you, almost as if entranced by the sight of your lips firmly sucking his cock. Chan barely let you breathe. He’d withdraw, smear more precum and spit over your lips as you panted, then plunged right back in. You whined when he finally pulled away from you.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he bent to lightly kiss you, “You’re getting something better. Just stay still for me, alright?”
He grinned when you nodded, pecking your cheek and reaching over to the headboard behind him. Hidden behind pillows was a bottle of lubricant, which he popped open and spread a generous amount on his length. Chan stroked himself over you, admiring your naked body and hard cock for a moment before pressing to your entrance. You held your legs up by the knees to expose yourself, giving your body over to him completely.
“I’ll start off slow,” he said in a shaky breath as he rolled himself around you, “And you tell me when you want me to go faster. Okay?”
“Okay.”
The both of you laughed and shared another kiss, regardless of where your mouths had been. He took advantage of the moment and pushed the tip gently into you. Chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, your grip tightened under your knees as a second inch went inside. You finally felt the full girth of him, a slight burning coming with each thrust, but it felt good. Your cock throbbed between your legs, precum leaking onto your stomach and you reached down to touch yourself. Chan didn’t stop you. He was too focused on what was going on between you. You whined between pursed lips, eyes pleading with him to finally fill you, and stroked yourself slowly. When he finally reached the base, you saw the restraint in him threatening to break. Being full of him, his tip easily pushed to your g-spot and you thought you might cum right then. A flood of pleasure burst open once your body understood what was happening.
“Keep touching yourself for me,” he said in your ear, rocking languidly into you. He hardly pulled out, only going an inch or two, “I love watching you do it.”
“Then I’ll-I’ll do it for you whenever you want,” you promised, head tilting back when he went particularly deep.
Chan kept the same gradual speed while you attempted to keep in time with it. When he knelt up, eyes still focused on your body, you couldn’t help admiring him back. A faint pink tinge going from cheeks to neck, messy curls hanging over his face, and swollen lips parted in his moans, you wanted to capture the moment forever. The image alone had you jerking a bit faster, squeezing your head until strings of precum came out.
"Go faster,” you finally whimpered after a time. “Please, Leader-nim.”
“Like this?” He started at a medium, shallow pace.
“Mm, faster. Fucking pound my ass, please. Please, I want it-Oh god!”
Pulling you closer by your knees, legs to his shoulders, Chan finally gave you what you both wanted. His bed lightly tapping the wall behind him, both your moans and groans mixed together in the still air. When he leaned back, held up by his arms, Chan entered in a new angle that drove you insane. You kept jerking off in front of him, knowing you were close to orgasming, and he knew it too.
“You can cum, baby,” he assured you, pushing his hips into yours, “I want to see you cum for me.”
“I want you to cum too,” you whined, your body slowly becoming more sensitive and quaking. “Please, Leader-nim, cum with me. Cum inside me, on me, however you want.”
“Then make me cum.”
You sat up and settled onto his lap. Chan sat with his legs outstretched, holding you by the hips as he cradled you. Sitting on it, you saw stars with him fully inside you. The both of you locked together, you pumped your fist over your cock while working Chan in time with it. Chan stared down to the scene below, just holding and watching as his own orgasm slowly approached. He’d been wanting to cum for a while, but withheld it to let you enjoy him. Now, he got to witness your climax up close.
“Go on,” he encouraged you, pinching your nipple for extra pleasure, “Make me cum. You want it so bad, then do it.”
“Oh god, Chan,” you moaned in a shaky breath, “Chan, Channie-hyung, fuck, oh my god.”
With a final push, both orgasms finally burst through. Hard and fast, they hit each of you like a freight train. Neither of you cared how loud or desperate you became. Your cum spilled over your fingers and squirted onto Chan’s stomach while his shot into the deepest part of you. Yet, even as you came down, it didn’t feel like enough. You’d wanted this for so long, and you needed more. Chan did not even have to ask. As his body started relaxing, he pulled you off him and onto your front. You didn’t object as he sandwiched his cock between your ass cheeks, enjoying the overstimulation that kept him from softening.
“You’re going to cum again for me,” he said, hand around your throat and lips pressed to your ear, “And again and again until I’m satisfied. I don’t care how long we’re here or how long it takes you.” He started with the same slow speed, “I’m loving this way too much to stop now.”
“Yes,” you breathed, face half-buried in his sheets, “I don’t want to stop either.”
“That’s my boy,” he smirked, kissing the edge of your ear before sliding his tip over your hole. “Just relax for me,” he kissed the back of your shoulder, “And let me enjoy touching you.”
He lifted one leg up and reached around to stroke your sensitive cock. You shifted from the slight sparks his fist created, hands clawing around the sheets as you stayed still underneath him. He whispered more tender, filthy things in your ear while he steadily worked you to a full erection again. You still couldn’t believe this was happening. His hard body pressed on top of yours felt unreal. His arm snaked between the crevasse of hip and thigh, gingerly fondling you was only a dream. You whined and moaned each time he touched a particularly sensitive spot, pushing for friction and just to hear him hum in your ear.
“This can’t really be real” you giggled, twitching when his thumb rolled around your tip. “I’m gonna wake up from a nap or something with a huge hard on and realize this isn't real.”
“I hope it’s real,” he replied, giving it a few gentle strokes as it grew in his hand. “Because I think I’d die if I woke up right now.”
“Then let's not wake up,” you turned your head enough to kiss him briefly, earning more on your cheek and jawline. “Don’t let me wake up.”
“I won’t even let you sleep,” he said, a smirk in his voice as he pushed himself back inside you. “We’re not stopping until we’re completely empty,” he gave a slightly deeper push, “And I think we’re far from that right now.”
When he slipped back inside, he did so at a sideways angle, keeping you pinned by a hand to your back as he charged. You saw stars once again, moaning into the sheets and gripping them tightly. Shaking and trembling, the friction of the sheets on your cock and Chan’s tip pushing directly onto your g-spot brought on bursts of sensitivity. You suddenly felt every point of pleasure you could. His weight kept you from meeting his hips, and this restraint aroused you more.
“God, you’re taking my dick so well,” he groaned in a low voice, withdrawing and pushing back in several times. “It’s like this ass was made for me.”
“And that your dick was made for me.”
He chuckled through his teeth, hand going to your hair and grabbing a fistful of it. Chan stayed in that position a few minutes before pulling out completely. With a muttered ‘ride me’, you pushed him onto his back near the pillows and straddled him. You didn’t waste time.
“That’s it,” he groaned, arms behind his head as he let you take control. “Throw it back just like that.”
Holding him down by his arms, you grinded and bounced on the dick swelling inside you. He felt too good. How could one person feel so good? You gripped his muscled arms, clenched your ass tightly. Your thighs started to burn by the time the both of you began shivering again. Soon, you milked a second orgasm out of him. He came in hard, shaking, panting breaths. He feverishly pushed up to you, causing your eyes to roll back each time.
“Breed me, Leader-nim,” you groaned, clawing at his arms and mouth hanging open. “Fucking breed me, please. I want to be full of you…so fucking full…”
Chan made his last few thrusts deep, shooting as far as he could and becoming more sensitive as you kept going. The obscene sounds of his wet cock plunging into your full bottom brought you to orgasm all on its own. Your entire body tightened, nearly suffocating and blinding you in a shattering climax. When you finally came down, neither of you really stopped. Your body became too used to your position, so you only grinded on him as you bent down for a deep kiss. Chan remained inside even when he rolled you onto your sides. Wrapped around each other, you enjoyed the feeling of him simply planted there by the hilt. His lips went anywhere they could reach while your hands explored his body once more, memorizing trails and lines on him.
“Let’s stay here tonight,” he said, kissing you softly. “I don’t want to be anywhere else but here right now.”
“Me either,” you agreed, eyes closed to take in his lips on your neck. “It feels right.”
“What does?”
“Being here with you,” you ran a hand up his neck to his hair, guiding him back to your lips. “It just feels right.”
“Oh yeah?” He gave a few pushes that produced a whine from you, “This does?”
“Yes,” you whispered.
You whimpered when he withdrew and rolled you onto your front once more. Easily, he dragged you down the bed to the edge where he crouched down. Relaxing on to bed, you only hummed as he licked up the mess he’d left. He didn’t object when you idly played with yourself at the same time, enjoying the overstimulation coursing from both ends. When bits of drool fell onto your shaft, you used it as lube to slicken your hand.
“This feels right too?” he asked between licks, sticking two fingers through your exposed hole.
“Yes,” you breathed, wriggling and pushing into his hand until he held you down by your ass cheeks. You moaned when he slapped each cheek a few times, grabbing them hard and burying his fingers in your ass once more. “Maybe it was a bad thing for me to send those group chat videos.”
“Why, baby?”
“Because now you know every…every weakness…”
“Or maybe we just like the same things,” he suggested, flicking his tongue over your balls and sucking them while you jerk yourself off. “Maybe you’re not the only pervert in this group, hm? Maybe I’m just as bad as you?” He smacked your ass just to hear you moan again, “Ever thought of that?” He slapped it one more time. “Huh?”
“God, I hope that’s true,” you laughed. The slight stinging added to the fire kindling inside you again. “I feel so embarrassed when I think about how much I want to be fucked every day.”
“I do too,” he said, kissing your ass one more time before standing. He squeezed your cheeks together to sandwich his dick between them. The light grazes matched your strokes, and you wriggled at the sensation. “It’s all I think about,” he admitted, groaning when his tip nearly slipped into your ass, “Especially with you around. I have to stand in our dressing room, watching you get undressed and can’t stop thinking about fucking you into the nearest wall.”
“Channie…”
“Or see you in the booth and think about bending you over a stool and recording your moans…”
“Please,” you moaned, “Do it. Do it all. Whenever you want. Please,” you moved his hands and held your cheeks apart, “Pretty please?”
You got your answer in another swift motion. Too worn out to stop him, you knelt there as Chan pulled you onto him. The idea of being Chan’s personal sex toy sounded too good to be true. You wanted so much more from him than that, but you’d be lying if you said that wouldn’t be a perk. Your third orgasm wasn’t as hard as the first two, though you found yourself pushing back to meet Chan’s hard, fast thrusts. He shot his third load over your ass, painting your cheeks with thin, clear streams and droplets of cum as he finished.
Your bodies nearly jelly, the two of you laid on his bed in complete bliss. The most you both could do is light kisses and whispered words of love. You never felt more comfortable with a lover before. Albeit, your last partner was years ago and you’ve done nothing with anyone since, but it still felt real. Juhwan might’ve been your first love, yet you felt Chan becoming the real one. You couldn’t imagine anyone else in his place; not even the other members. Not really. You knew what they meant now as you admired Chan, listening to him talk about how he ended up getting his special neck pillow.
Only a gentle knock on the door alerted you to the outside world. Changbin’s voice came through the door as he said, “You guys hungry? Han’s ordering chicken.”
“What do you think?” Chan asked you, holding you from behind under his covers as a movie played on his television. You'd both cleaned off as much as you could in your worn out state and cuddled together in his bed.
“Chicken sounds good.”
“Sure!” he called back to Changbin.
Changbin remained strangely quiet, then he opened the door a crack. Poking his head in, he took in the scene of you both, then said, “If you guys aren’t too tired later, Han and I-”
“-No!” Chan laughed, grabbing a balled up paper to toss at him.
This made Changbin laugh and close the door. Nuzzling your neck, Chan suggested you both clean up properly before dinner. Yet, you had no desire to move.
“We need to, baby,” he chuckled, face buried in your hair. “As nice as it is, we can’t stay like this.”
“Says who?” you challenged playfully, pulling both his arms around you so he stayed close.
“Says me,” he replied. “Come on,” he groaned as he detangled himself from you. “Shower time.”
“We took a shower,” you pouted, reaching for his hand. Lord, he was gorgeous like this. “Stay.”
“You need another,” he insisted, bending to kiss you.
“Hmph, fine,” you said, still pouting and getting off the bed. “But we’re coming right back,” you put your arms around his middle, “For more cuddles.”
“I wouldn’t want to do anything else…” he then quickly added, “Except maybe another round or two before we pass out completely.”
The both of you laughed as he led you out of the bedroom. If the world ended right then, you’d leave it happy.
****
A/N: yaaaaay it finally happened!! Now that these two idiots are slowly coming together (wink), let's see how things develop! Thanks for reading <3 reblog and like please <3
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The Alchemy
Melbourne, Australia, 2019
I was nervous, I knew you shouldn't be, but I was.
The sun was shining bright down at the Melbourne Circuit, you could hear the delighted conversations from fans just outside of the motorhome. Everyone was excited for the upcoming season of Formula 1, with new drivers and grid line up changes. And I was one of the new faces at the paddock, although not a driver.
I’ve been no stranger to this whole life at the paddock and following Formula 1. I grew up with it as I’d follow my father around since the moment i learned how to walk.
Jenson Button, former Formula 1 driver and world champion. I carried my last name with pride, I love my dad more than anything in the world, but the moment I showed genuine interest in the motorsport world people started to talk.
So now, I can't help but wonder, what is everyone going to say the minute you walk into the paddock as not a guest, but as a McLaren intern.
Sure, I will be the first to admit that having the Button last name did help I get this internship, but I conclude the training to be here on your effort, with my intelligence, my studies and everything I prepared myself for.
I knew working at the PR department didn't come easy in the motorsport world, I not only had to deal with PR, reporters, FIA, and the drivers, but you had to understand the dynamic of the sport, of the car, and everything else in case I needed to step up to give a statement on behalf of a driver or the team.
I spent countless days, in 2018, going over the FIA regulations, learning about the cars, all while taking classes in UNI and juggling the McLaren PR training.
Someone called out my name in a soothing manner. I lifted your head, meeting Sophie's smile. Behind her there were two men, one standing tall and proud and the other a bit more awkwardly. I knew very well who they were as I will be working close to them.
"Hi, Sophie." I smile at her "Would you like to join me for coffee?"
She nods, taking a sit across from me and gesturing the two men to do the same.
"I wanted to introduce you three properly since you'll be working close together." She says "These are our 2019 drivers, Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris. This is Y/n, she is our new PR intern."
I smile at both of them.
“It’s nice to finally meet you both.”
Carlos smiles “Likewise, I hope we get along well, the three newbies of McLaren.”
I laugh at his little joke and Lando follows suit with his own laughter that is a bit too contagious.
He seems a bit shy, maybe it’s because it’s his first season in Formula 1 and he feels like he has a lot to prove. In a sense I relate to him. We’re both here to show we’re good and deserve to be here.
And without even speaking for more than 5 minutes with him, I can already feel that we’re going to be friends soon enough.
Xangai, China, 2019
I have my back turned to the door of McLaren hospitality as I fumble with the coffee machine. It’s very early in the morning on Friday, a few hours away from the start of free practice. I am feeling exhausted from the long flight from England to China and the different time zones.
“It seems like the coffee machine is winning the fight.” A voice cut through the silence of the hospitality.
I turn around to find Lando standing beside me with a smile on his face, showing his dimples and amusement.
“I can’t get it to make coffee, I think it’s broken.” I complain with a huff
“Did you turn it on?” He asks me amused
“What?”
“Did you turn on the machine?”
“Of course I…” He reaches his arm across from me, pushing a button and the coffee machine beeps before finally brewing my coffee. I feel my cheeks go warm in embarrassment “Sorry, I’m uh still half asleep.”
He giggles, that infectious laugh of his that I always find myself smiling and giggling along whenever I hear it. If there is one thing I have already learned from Lando, it's that it’s nearly impossible to be serious around him. He carries this natural good natured aura, and he’s funny and likes to make jokes and see the good side of things. And whenever I’m around him I find myself a giggling mess.
We grab our cups of coffee and take a seat at one of the comfortable arm chairs at the corner of the room.
“You look tired.” Lando points out, sipping his coffee.
“I’m jet lagged, and I had a paper to turn in for uni so I stayed up until late and I only got a few hours of sleep on the plane because I had to review the questions for yesterday’s press conference.” I tell him, basically chugging down my coffee “Do you think I’d get fired if I drank Red Bull?”
He shakes his head.
“You should get some sleep during FP1.” He tells me
I sigh “Yeah, but it’s not really worth the drive back to the hotel, I will probably only manage a twenty minute nap before I have to come back here.”
“You can nap in my driver's room.” He offers, a friendly smile on his face
“Oh, no, I can’t accept it.” I shake my head “Thank you, thought.”
Lando smiles, leaning over the armrest of his seat to get closer to me.
“I insist. You need sleep to be on top of your game. Come on.” He stands up offering his hand. I eye it for a moment before accepting it. He pulls me up to my feet.
He guides me through the corridors of the hospitality until we reach his driver’s room. He opens the door and I’m a bit surprised at how neat it looks. I half expected it to be a mess of clothes.
“Here, you can sleep on the couch, it isn’t much but it’s better than nothing.”
“Thank you.” I smile, sitting on the couch and taking off my shoes.
I get into a comfortable position, curling up on the couch and instantly closing my eyes. I feel something soft covering me and I open my eyes a bit confused.
“I don’t have a blanket.” Lando says, his cheeks turning red. “So I uh… covered you with my jacket.”
I feel my chest grow warm at his sweet gesture. I smile at him.
“Thank you, Lando.”
He smiles back at me, and at that moment, I think is when I started to have a crush on him.
Barcelona, Spain, 2019
I should have expected Spain to be a bit insane considering the fact that I work with a Spanish driver. The minute I stepped out of the car with Carlos following behind me, the fans started to scream and throw themselves at us.
I’m not unfamiliar with the whole passionate fans wanting pictures and autographs, but since I used be a toddler or a child, they at least head the decency to not push and pull at my dad because I was clinging to him.
But now I am an adult, and they don’t care about those things anymore and I had never been mobbed by fans before without having my dad or my uncles by my side.
The fans screamed at Carlos who was doing his best to attend each and every single one of them. And things only got worse when Lando arrived and they suddenly wanted pictures of the best new funny duo of the grid.
They pulled at me, shoving pictures on my face to get them to sign since I worked with them, and they yelled questions about what it was like to work with the both young drivers.
I tried to step away, get away from them fans, but I was stuck in between the mass of people and to make matters worse they managed to separate me from Carlos and Lando who were looking at me concerned over the chaos.
“What the fuck?! What the fuck is going on?” A harsh loud voice cut through the yell of fans “Stop pulling at her! Get your hands off of her!”
Suddenly a tall blonde man dressed in red was pushing the fans away from me, shielding me with his body as he yelled.
I cling to the back of Sebastian's Ferrari shirt, telling like a little girl again, but completely relieved that he was there with me with his familiar force of comfort he always knew how to bring me.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, gluing me to his side and I knew if I wasn’t 20 years old anymore he would have picked me up and carried me like a toddler out of this mess. He glared at everyone who tried to get in our way and stirred me inside the paddock.
“Prinzessi.” Sebastian called me the same nickname from when he first met me as a newborn “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head “No, I’m… I’m fine.” I say, but my voice is shaky and he can tell that I’m holding back tears.
He places his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me with intense concerned eyes as he scans my body to look for any injury.
“What the hell is wrong with you both?” Sebastian yells the minute Lando and Carlos finally catch up to us “They were eating her alive!”
They look sheepish and terrified of being scolded by the German who looks lived with anger.
“She’s your PR assistant, but you’re supposed to keep your fans in check to keep her safe!” Sebastian continues with the harsh tone “She could have gotten hurt! They were touching her and shoving her! That was so reckless from the both of you!”
They nod, stiffly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Vettel.” Lando says, eyes wide “I promise this will never happen again. I’ll- I’ll make sure she is safe at all times from now own. I- I swear!”
Sebastian doesn’t correct him on the Mr. Vettel name calling, he nods still with a glare.
“Come on, prinzessin.” He says in a much more soft tone, his arm resting against my shoulder in a protective parental manner “Let’s get you to Ferrari, uh? I will get you one of those chocolate pastries you love so much.”
With one final glare Sebastian takes me away from them. The McLaren drivers share a confused look as they watch me walk away.
Monte Carlo, Monaco, 2019
The Monaco Grand Prix is always a big event. Lots of celebrities and former drivers gather in the city to watch the historical race, and that’s how I find myself sitting at the McLaren hospitality chatting away with uncle Nico while my dad gets us drinks.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the race from Mercedes, uncle Nico?” I ask him, making my best innocent look that always got me away with things when I was younger and probably until this day when it comes to the drivers who watch me grow up.
“No, of course not.” Nico Rosberg shakes his head, a found and almost proud smile on his face “This is the first race I am watching this season in person and you’re officially a Formula 1 employee, I’m staying all weekend here with you at McLaren.”
I want to argue with him that I’m not technically a F1 employee as I’m just an intern, but he gives me a pointed look and I only nod.
“So, what is this that I hear about you and a rookie driver?”
I widen my eyes as I look at him.
“What? What are you talking about?”
Nico laughs at me “Seb has told me that you’ve become inseparable from the rookie McLaren driver, Norris.”
I huff, I should have known uncle Sebastian would open his mouth and gossip about me to his retired friends.
As if being summoned, Lando walked into the McLaren hospitality, wearing his cap backwards and smiling big as always. Carlos is beside him as usual and they both make their way over once they spot me.
“Hola, pequenita.” Carlos greets me, ruffling my hair affectionately before spotting Nico sitting across for me and getting a bit embarrassed.
Lando stands beside me ready to make a joke when he notices Carlos’ expression and widening his eyes when he sees Nico as well.
“Hello, Nico.” Carlos greets him
“Carlos, always good to see you.” He smiles before turning to Lando “And you must be one of the 2019 rookies, Lando?”
Lando nods quickly “Yeah, yeah. That’s me, nice to meet you Mr. Rosberg.”
Nico’s smile widens as Lando addresses him as Mr. Rosberg, feeling pleased with himself. I shot him a warning glare.
“Please, join us.” He says, motioning for the boys to the empty seats.
Lando sits beside me as Carlos sits across from me, leaving one empty space at the head of the table.
Nico makes light conversation, asking mostly questions about Formula 1, but I could see the glint in his eyes every time he asked Lando something, who seemed incredibly shy at receiving attention from a World Champion.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get the drinks, I ran into some old friends.” My dad says walking to the table with a glass of my favorite refreshing drink to have in Monaco “There you go, sweetheart.”
I smile, accepting the drink “Thank you, dad.”
Lando and Carlos both choke on their saliva at the same time when they hear me call Jensen Button my dad.
“Ah, just the men I wanted to meet!” He exclaims “Carlos, Lando, you both have been doing such good jobs here at McLaren. My daughter talks a lot about you.”
I watch as they become flustered over the news. My dad smiles, taking a sit at the head of the table.
“I heard you both let her get swamped by a mob of fans?” He asks with a smile, but I can see the hard look in his eyes.
“Dad!” I scold him “Uncle Seb already gave them a hard time!”
My father chuckles, soon being followed by Nico. Carlos and Lando’s eyes are wide and they look terrified.
“I know, I know.” My dad lifts his hands in surrender “I’m just messing with them. But I still have eyes and ears on the paddock so…”
“Dad!” I scold him once more.
He laughs again and finally switch subjects, talking about the new grid line up of this year and asking questions to Lando and Carlos who seem to become a bit more comfortable at the presence of Jenson Button and Nico Rosberg.
Hockenheim, Germany, 2019
Lando was in a bad mood, I could tell it from far away. He was moving frantically around the garage and he had a scowl on his face.
The past five races have been of ups and downs from him, he had two DNF, one race out of top ten because he got p11 and two races where he scored points. But he was pissed off still from his p11 on his home race in England.
It also didn’t help that the reporter he got placed with decided to improvise some questions that wasn’t pre approved and it made Lando uncomfortable with the way he was pressing on the matter of him doing a bad job at his home race.
And then, to make matters worse, he DNFed again today.
“Lando.” I say his name in a soft tone
He whips his head quickly towards me, a deep frown on his face.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I say, I place a hand on his forearm, squeezing it in reassurance “It’s raining terribly today, everyone is spinning.”
He huffs annoyed.
“I should be good at racing in the rain.” He complains.
“How many times have you raced in this circuit?” I ask him, calmly.
“Well- this was the first time, but…”
I cut him off “And how many times have you raced in the rain in a Formula 1 car?”
Lando blinks at me as he answers “This was also the first time.”
I nod, my thumb rubbing sof circles on his forearm.
“And how do you expect to be good at something you’re doing for the first time?”
He looks away from me, and I can tell he is staring to consider my words.
“Valtteri has been doing this for a long time and he also crashed.” I tell him.
That get him to look at me again, his frown turning into something a bit more hopeful.
“Bottas didn’t finish the race?”
I shake my head “No, he didn’t. Even the experienced ones are having a hard time out there. This is only your first race in the rain, Lando.”
He sighs, and slowly he nods his head. He shifts his arm, making my hand slide down and towards his. His hand is much bigger than mine and it’s warm despite the cold weather from the rain. He squeezes my hand.
“Thank you. I just-…”
I smile at him, squeezing his hand back.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
And for the first time since he DNFed, I saw Lando’s dimples as he smiled at me.
Marina Bay, Singapore, 2019
Singapore has always been a hard circuit. The warmth and humidity did no good for the drivers to be racing for long periods of time. Still, it’s one of my favorite circuits because I find it beautiful to watch the race at night.
I’m watching from the McLaren garage, this time considering the hot weather conditions, they allowed the PR team to wear lighter clothes, so I’m in a simple dress, standing close to the AC and sipping water every few minutes.
I wince when I watch Carlos spin and crash into the barrier. The garage grows quiet for a minute.
“He’s ok!” His race engineer announces and we all finally breath normally again
A few moments later Carlos enters the garage with an annoyed look on his face. He places his helmet on one of the shelves and go to speak to his team.
I keep my eyes trained on the screen to watch Lando’s progress while I look for the schedule of reporters who want a world with Carlos after his DNF.
I accept the request of two journalists and move over to where Carlos is.
“Hey… you ready for some interviews?” I ask, eyeing him
He clenched his jaw before nodding and following me out of the garage and onto the media pan.
I give out instructions to him on the way there and step back when he positions himself to give the interviews. I watch intensely, jotting out necessary information on my iPad and ready to intervene at any given moment, but despite the bad situation, the interviews go smoothly and soon enough we’re back at the garage.
Carlos excuses himself to go shower and change clothes, clearly not in the mood for conversation.
In a blur of moments I watch as uncle Seb wins the Singapore Grand Prix, a proud smile on my face. Lando finishes in p7 which is great since he’s on the pointing zone.
“Congratulations, Lando. You did a really good job today!” I tell him
His smile grows bigger “Thank you, thank you!”
Even though he’s happy, I can notice the tiredness ok his face. He’s completely drenched in swest and I can see the slightly tremor of his hands, probably about to begin an hypoglycemic episode without even realizing.
“Hey, why don’t you take a sit?” I say, gently grabbing both his arms and walking him to a chair. I move quickly as I push my water bottle into his hands and search for a snack “Here.”
Lando looks at me a bit confused, but obliged.
“Oh.. wow.” He chuckles “How did you even know how to do this? I didn’t even realize I was feeling weak.”
I smile, my hand twitches at my side as I feel the want to run my fingers over his curls.
“I’ve been on the watching side of this sport since I learned how to walk. I learned a thing or two.”
He nods, still munching on the chocolate protein bar I gave him.
“Yeah… I uh sometimes forget you’re the Jenson Button’s daughter.”
“I’m glad you do.”
Lando tilts his head to the side, confused, but doesn’t say anything and I’m grateful for that.
Austin, United States, 2019
The season is coming to an end, thankfully. All the traveling, working and university studying at the same time has been taking a toll on me. It is too much, and I could see it every time I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. The circles staring back at me.
My body was sore, my throat scratchy and my head hurt. I knew the flu was making it’s way to dominate my body.
Still, I put on makeup to cover up my sickness face and went to the paddock for media day.
“Buenos dias!” Carlos greeted me once I entered the van and sat across from him and beside Lando who was bouncing with energy on the seat
“Good morning.” I say, cringing a little at the way my voice sounded
Lando frowned, pushing his face close to mine to examine me.
“What’s wrong?” He asked in a low voice, his brows furrowing
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Still, he kept analyzing me. From the corner of my eyes I could see Carlos lips turn upwards in a smile he hid behind his phone as he scrolled through it.
Lando said my name slowly, softly.
“You look sick.”
I pout slightly as I say “Geez, thank you for saying I look terrible.”
He huffs, clearly not finding my attempt to brush it off as funny as I did. He lifted his hand up before placing it on my forehead.
“You’re hot.”
“Oh, so now I’m…”
“Stop trying to deflect it.” Lando cuts me off before I can make another joke. “You’re sick. Why didn’t you say anything? You should be in bed resting.”
I shake my head, getting away from his hand.
“I’m not sick. I’m great. I’m just jet lagged and a bit tired, nothing some coffee won’t fix.”
Lando frowns and it takes me by surprise to see the irritated look on his face directed at me. Sure, I’ve seen him mad before when the race doesn’t go the way expected or when the media gets too much, but never aimed at me.
“I’ve seen you jet lagged and tired before and this is not it.”
I say his name in a sigh and he says my name in a warning. We stared at each other for what feels like forever, before Carlos giggles at us and says we arrived at the paddock.
The minute I get out of the van I start to quickly walk inside the paddock, scanning my pass, knowing the guys will stop to talk to the fans and I will be free of Lando’s questioning. I start to make my way to the McLaren hospitality when I feel a large hand land on my shoulder.
I flinch in surprise, whipping my head around and finding Lando beside me, still frowning.
“Lando.” I try to sound stern as I say his name, but it gets mixed up with a cough I try to hold in.
That only makes his frown deepen. He starts to drag me somewhere.
“You’re going to the medic center now.” He says, stern.
I complain and try to stand still, but he is taller, bigger and much stronger than me so he basically drags me.
I can see some people turning around to look at us, but I keep telling him to let go.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Sebastian shows up in front of us, hands on his waist and I know that behind his sunglasses he is glaring at Lando. “What is going on here?”
“She’s sick and she’s being stubborn about it.” Lando says, still holding onto my shoulder “So I’m taking her to the medic center.”
Sebastian frowns, placing his sunglasses on top of his head as he takes a step closer to me.
“I’m not sick.” I say “Lando is being dramatic. Tell him to leave me alone.”
“She is sick! She even has a fever!”
Sebastian looks between the two of us, but he knows me long enough to know I am lying. He places a hand on my forehead.
“Norris ir right, you do have a fever, prinzessin.”
“No I don’t.” I say stubbornly.
He arches an eyebrow, as if challenging me.
“Do you want me to carry you to the medic center like you’re still a tiny baby?” He asks and I shake my head quickly, knowing very well he isn’t bluffing “Then let Norris take you and follow everything the medics say.”
“But Sebby!” I whine.
“Prinzessin.” He gives me an unimpressed look “Go to the medic center with Norris, now. And I’m not asking, I am telling you to go.”
I huff with a pout, knowing I won’t win this argument so I let Lando take me to the medic center while Sebastian watches from the distant as the McLaren rookie fusses over me.
Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2019
The paddock was busier than ever, so many people with so many big smiles and shouts of happiness.
It’s the last race of the season and it leaves a bittersweet feeling on my chest. On one hand I am extremely happy that the season is finally over and I will be able to go back to a somewhat normal routine, going to college everyday, normal sleep schedules, as normal as an university student sleep schedule can go, and staying at home for a bit.
But at the same time, I am upset about being away from Formula 1 for the time being. I got used to seeing Lando and Carlos everyday, they are already a big important part of my life. I like the thrill of being in a different place every other week, of learning new things and watching the races.
I’m sitting at the VIP lounge section at the rooftop, overlooking the paddock bustling with activities. I’m sipping an Italian soda while I soak in the last moments of the 2019 season.
I don’t say anything as Lando slips quietly on the seat beside me. He has dark sunglasses perched on the top of his nose and he’s wearing a black McLaren shirt. His thigh brushes my slightly to gather my attention.
I shift in my seat to look at him and he already has that dimple smile on his face.
“It’s been a long year, huh?” He says quietly
I nod, smiling softly at him.
“It has been… feels like it was yesterday that I meet you and Carlos on my first day at the paddock.”
He hums, reaching out for my glass of Italian soda and taking a sip without even asking for it. I don’t mind, it’s normal between us by now.
“How was your first year as a Formula 1 employee?” He asks
“Better than I expected to be honest.” I tell him, playing with the hem of my dress “I didn’t get bad words from people for being Jenson Button’s daughter.”
Lando nods, understanding what I’m hinting at.
“You’ve been doing a good job, I think you’ve proved yourself here.”
“No, I haven’t yet.” I tell him. “But what about you? How was your first year as a Formula 1 driver?”
His smile widens “It was insane. Sometimes still feels like I’m dreaming. I know the results I’ve been getting aren’t ideal yet, but being here… it’s great.” I can tell he’s happy by the way his eyes lit up “I got so luck to have a good teammate.”
I nod, he sure indeed found a friend in Carlos.
“And even luckier to have the most beautiful and incredible PR intern.”
My cheeks grow hot the minute my brain register and processes his words. I lift my eyes to look at him, his cheeks are also tinted pink and he was a sweet smile on his face.
We stare at each other for a moment, only gazing in each others eyes. I reach for his hand and he squeezes mine in his big one.
“Will you be here with me next year?” Lando asks in a soft tone.
“Yes.” I breath out “I’ll be here with you next year.”
#fanfiction#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#sebastian vettel x reader#carlos sainz x reader
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Summary: "Will and Hannibal accidentally picked the same victim" or "two wolves fighting for prey"
Will watched as Dave Miller left the pub and got into a black chevy. He followed him home, already familiar with the way. It was the sixth night in a row when he was observing his daily habits.
The FBI had let him go because of the lack of proofs, even if everyone knew what that man had done. And it was not that Will was entering his vigilante era. It was something else.
Besides the satisfaction he would get from feeling righteous, he would harvest a piece and bring it to Hannibal. The idea of surprising Hannibal was what brought him a certain thrill which he was not so proud of.
**
Hannibal waited in the parking lot as Dave Miller parked his car in the drive way. He was hoping his Bentley would not stand out in the neighborhood. Certainly not fitting for the place.
Dave had been extremely rude to him when he had to assess him for the FBI. So rude that he could not forgive him. It was probably a week since he had been following him around.
Besides the fact that Mr. Miller was a pig, he needed to get a few things out of his system. Will had been awfully unavailable during the last few days. Always busy in the evenings, never available for dinner and no more good night texts.
Hannibal had promised himself he would give Will all the space in the world to figure out his own design and his place in their relationship. He would not rush and he would not push him and he would not force him into doing anything that felt unnatural.
That didn't stop Hannibal from dreaming about the day they would hunt those pigs together. When he would watch the gleam in Will's eyes as he would watch the life fade away from their victim. The way he would be so proud of his Will and he would admire the whole scene the same way one feels when they have an epiphany.
That image would have to suffice until Will would feel ready.
**
"Dinner tonight?" He asked Will the next day, just as he was about to leave the FBI building.
He would have dinner with Will, maybe even more, then he could go to end Mr. Miller. And Will would wait for him at home. Or he would choose to join him. The idea of bringing food to his beloved made him feel warm inside.
"I can't." Will replied. Not tonight. Not when it would be the night he would kill Dave. Then he would present himself in front of Hannibal's door and he would bring him his victim. "I need to finish a few reports."
His prey. His prey that he would bring to Hannibal as an offering.
"I miss you." Hannibal replied.
"I miss your food too." Will said, the grin on his face betraying his true feelings.
"That is reassuring. You know, you can work on your reports at my place too."
"Too many distractions."
Hannibal hummed to that, kissed him on the cheek and left.
So be it then.
**
A Friday night. As expected, Dave Miller was in his living room watching TV. Not for long.
Will had sneaked in earlier when Dave had parked his car in the garage. Already used with the format of the house, he walked down the small hall and entered the kitchen. From there he could see the light from the TV. He only needed a few seconds to think his attack through.
**
Hannibal had entered the house through an open window on the first floor. He had left it open for himself the day before when he had entered the house in order to get used to the rooms and with Mr. Miller's evening habits. It was the time the pig would be watching TV.
Hannibal went downstairs, as quiet and delicate as a cat, holding his scalpel in his hand. The light from the TV came from the living room. He would enter, come from behind the armchair and slit his throat. The idiot would be too focused on his stupid football game to hear him come.
He was ready to attack when he saw movement in the darkness from the kitchen. Was Mr. Miller not in the living room at that moment? Was Mr. Miller not alone? He would have to kill everyone in the house then.
He made up his mind to start with the one in the kitchen.
**
Will saw a silhouette coming downstairs. Then Dave was not watching TV? Why wasn't he moving anymore? Was that someone else? He would have to take that person down first since he was staying in his way towards the living room.
**
Hannibal saw the figure launch at him, so he did just the same, both of them as quiet as possible. His scalpel was just about to pierce the neck of the intruder when his arm was grabbed forcefully and bent to his back. With the aching muscle and useless arm, he used his mouth to bite the neck of his attacker, making him yelp. With his hand now free, he could finally use his scalpel and finish him off was it not for the very familiar scent.
"Will?"
With one hand on his bleeding neck, adrenaline rushing through him, before he could process it, Will punched his attacker's face with all the force he had. Hannibal was too stunned by his previous realization to dodge.
When he fell onto the floor, the light from the TV in the living room revealed his face.
Will froze as if he could not process what just happened.
"The fuck?" Will mouthed to Hannibal as he forgot about the blood flowing from his neck. He fell to his knees in order to lean over Hannibal, lift his face and inspect it. Blood was just starting to flow from his nose, down his already stained lips. "Dammit, Hannibal."
"That was not bad." Hannibal murmured as he regained his consciousness. He instinctively reached for Will's neck. He was grateful he had not bitten harder into the skin. No permanent damage done. A wide smile appeared on his face.
"Who's there?" Dave's voice came from the living room.
Will quickly helped Hannibal get up.
"I got this." Will said, preparing himself.
"Sorry, baby, but he is mine." Hannibal whispered back.
"No, I've been following him for a week."
"Me as well."
Will was about to learn that he could not steal another predator's prey. Not when he had followed it for so long. Not when he needed to kill that man in order to pull himself together about the fact that his Will had been actively ignoring him.
As they stared at each other, Hannibal realized a second too late that Will rushed towards the living room. He chased after him and grabbed his middle in an attempt to pull him down. Doing that and holding the scalpel in such a way that it wouldn't touch Will happened to be a difficult task.
Even more so when Mr. Miller jumped from the armchair, trying to assess the scene in his living room.
"Fuck you." Will said as he got up to his feet and tried to pull Hannibal away from their victim. When that didn't work he kicked the back of his knees, making him lose his balance.
Mr. Miller was so taken aback by the two strangers who seemed to have a conflict of their own that he didn't have any reaction when Will pushed him onto the floor and wrapped his arm around his neck, leaving him little room to breath.
"Although I have never been more in love with you than I am in this very moment," Hannibal started while breathing heavily, "do not get in between me and my pig. There will be many others for you, my darling. And if you want, we can end this one together." He tried to negotiate.
Will shook his head, not loosening his grip. "Just let me do everything tonight. Then you can cook for us."
"Cook?" The man yelped, making Will strengthen his grip more.
"I really need to..." Hannibal said as he pointed towards his scalpel. It was a need. An urge that he could not contain. Especially when his blood was boiling through his veins.
"No." Will said as he was preparing to snap his neck. "I am capable."
"I could never contest that, my beloved. My week was awful, I need to let it out." Hannibal said carefully trying not to provoke Will into doing something impulsively.
"I've been waiting for so long for this. And I was going to bring him to you. And you were going to..." Will's pupils were dilated, his breathing was hard. A vein on his temple almost popping.
Hannibal realized Will looked exactly like a wolf about to devour its prey.
"What, what was I going to?" More important than killing that pig was understanding Will's design. His motive was part of his design. And Hannibal was just realizing he had been part of Will's design all along.
"You were going to appreciate it, Hannibal, dammit. You were not going to expect me to bring you a body. You were supposed to..."
...Look at me the way you look now.
Will realized the admiration and fascination in Hannibal's eyes were real. What he wanted to achieve was in fact happening in front of him.
"You wanted to kill him for me." Hannibal thought loudly. He sat on the floor to be on the same level as Will and leaned in to caress his cheek. Both of them ignored the man who was struggling almost in between them. "I promise I have never been more impressed and honored in my entire life."
The wild look in Will's eyes softened, as if he had been tamed. He leaned in Hannibal's touch.
"We are idiots." Will concluded. He was so focused on Hannibal's touch that he did not pay attention to his grip which was no longer as tight as earlier. In the split of a second, Dave moved his arm from around his neck and tried to escape.
Hannibal's scalpel quickly found his artery, causing the blood to splatter on them both until the body went limp next to them.
"My fault." Will said as he tried to wipe away some blood off his forehead. "You were saying distracting things that I was unfortunately longing to hear."
"I'm sorry I had to take this from you. I was really going to let you end him. I only wanted to kill him because I felt like you were losing interest in me. The whole week. You were probably focused on catching...him."
Will nodded. "I really wanted you to see what I am capable of."
"I did see and I am so in love." Hannibal said as he held Will's hand and kissed it tenderly. "Let's take care of this mess."
Will nodded.
He had not had the chance to kill anyone that night. Yet, his heart was beating loudly.
#hannibal#hannigram#hannibal lecter#will graham#hannibal nbc#hannibal series#hannibal fanfiction#blue writes
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The Watcher ~ Part One
Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.
Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!
Word Count: 5.9k
Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!
For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.
One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.
At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you.
See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.
Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you.
Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.
Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.
What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about.
Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.
One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly.
Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control.
“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.
You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now.
You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.
“W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you.
The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”. If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home.
“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”
“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”
Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.”
He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself.
“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is.
“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep.
You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?
“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.
“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”
“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash.
“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”
“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.
“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”
“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you.
“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined.
“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet.
“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions.
“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up.
A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”
His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.
“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”
Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?”
He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.
Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.
“Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him.
With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do.
As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.
You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen.
You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.
Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything?
You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.
He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you.
Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue.
You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.
He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.
As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there.
Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.
He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans.
Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.
With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.
“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.
Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.
You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm.
The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason.
While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure.
He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him. He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry.
To be continued...
Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!
#imsoexcited#forobxs4part2#willnotbesleeping#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe obx#outer banks#obx4#obx season 4#rafe cameron smut#stalker!rafe#perv!rafe#drew starkey#obx3#outer banks season 4#outer banks netflix#rafe x pogue!reader#pogue!reader#pogue!readerxrafe#rafe cameron x pogue!reader
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𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖
✞ synopsis: you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.
✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader
✞ rating: 18+ (minors do not engage)
✞ cw: religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)
✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.
✞ chapter: 5 / ?
✞ co-authors: redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)
✞ ao3 link: here
✞ chapter synopsis: a series of risky decisions gets you into more than one kind of trouble.
✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5
Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!
The next few days were spent in the confines of your childhood home, your bed almost becoming your permanent address as you thought about that kiss. The kindness and how the words expressed resonated with you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. But more than anything, how the kissing Father Sylus had made you feel - the tenderness of it all. But surely you were getting ahead of yourself and even found yourself a little disgusted with yourself over the whole encounter.
But he had just been so close, too sweet, and his face was so beautiful, and all you wanted to do was press kisses all over him.
But it’s wrong, isn’t it?
Something inside you rebelled against the idea for obvious reasons. Any resolve you had would disintegrate when you decided to act or speak on it.
But then, one evening, Rafayel called. You barely answered in time because part of you was hoping it would be someone else.
“Hey babe, just wanted to check up and see how you’re doing. Haven’t heard from you.”
You blinked, frozen for a moment as you twisted into a sitting position on your bed. “Fine. What’s up?”
He chuckled, and you weren’t sure if he was annoyed. You felt slightly upset at yourself for not reaching out when you could have. A normal rekindled friendship typically involves a friend being there for the other, especially after what he revealed to you. But before you could follow up with an apology, he spoke again.
“Nothing in particular. I wondered if you wanted to get some of the old gang together and go up into the woods like we used to.”
You knew the place he was walking about, the old lumber yard out in the middle of the woods where the kids from town used to gather. It had been a favorite spot to hang out, build bonfires, other illegal shit teenagers liked to do when they wanted to get away from their parents.
“What do you mean ‘the gang?’” You asked.
“Well, uh, it’s just gonna be you and me. When I tried to call anyone else from school, they either laughed at me for being back here or didn’t answer.” You could hear his nervous laugh when his words cut off. “Still a small town, and everyone is the same.”
You couldn’t resist, though. Even if you were a bit too old for that behavior. Reliving your past was one of the reasons you returned home in the first place. “I have nothing better to do, so yeah. Sounds great.” You paused, wondering if you had said the right thing, hoping that Rafayel understood what you meant. “Sorry, I’ve been…not myself lately. Lot’s on my mind.” You rubbed the back of your knee with your fingers before standing, keeping the phone to your ear as you crossed the room to where your suitcase lay open on a chair.
“I get it.” He responded with a laugh, light and airy in a way that made you smile. “Life is pretty shitty, especially for people like us who - well, you know.” There was a hint of apology in his tone as you heard him open and close a door. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to listen to you now.”
“I kissed the priest.”
“Fucking, what? The hot one?”
You sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward a bit, a bit shaken now with your admission. Even though you had spoken it out loud, you still felt as if you couldn’t totally come to grips with the situation.
“Well, yeah. He’s the only one.” You said, curling your hand around the hem of the comforter. “And I’m also in love with a married man. I’m losing it. This is what happens to people who don’t peak in high school or something!”
Rafayel said nothing, obviously processing. Then he began to chuckle, which turned into a laugh. Then, he let out the most ridiculous roar of laughter.
“Wow,” he managed to gasp out after a bit, only to laugh again. You could imagine how his shoulders probably shuddered as they shook and the grin plastered on his face. “Okay, once Talia goes to bed, I’ll grab her car and pick you up. And then you’re explaining this whole damn story to me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I can’t even comprehend this,” Rafayel breathed after you recounted your tale of how you ended up back home, finishing off with the way Father Sylus had kissed you and the way your panic overtook you. He shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching, brow knitted as he looked at you.
The two of you sat in Talia's car, parked outside the old lumber yard in the woods. The empty dirt parking lot was bathed in the moon's light peeking through the clouds. The bowl on the dash between you both served as a reminder that some things hadn’t changed and that this was the first place you had smoked weed.
Rafayel picked it up, fingers curling around the glass as he brought it to his lips. The flick of the lighter illuminated his face in the dark car, shadows dancing across his cheekbones as he inhaled deeply. You couldn’t blame him for his reaction.
When he passed it to you, you mirrored his actions, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the earthy taste coating your tongue. You held it in briefly before exhaling slowly, leaning back into the passenger seat.
“And Xavier asked me out.” You said.
Your friend’s face contorted in disbelief before he let out a short burst of laughter. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.” You giggled and looked out towards the old building before you, wondering how he could think you were making any of this up.
“Damn, you have three guys chasing after you, begging for scraps. I bet the doctor has loads of money.” Rafayel clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “This is every girl’s dream! I don’t understand what the problem is.”
And as if it suddenly hit him all at once, he started to laugh, and the laugh turned out to be contagious. You both soon ended up in a fit of giggles inside the growing colder car.
“I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ask him to leave his wife?” You huffed.
“Relax! Think about it. People get divorced all the time.” The high was definitely setting in as Rafayel rested his head on the back of the seat. “And if he’s as hopelessly infatuated with you as you said, he might do it anyway.”
“Rafayel! That’s horrible.”
He leaned in and playfully nudged your shoulder, saying, “I can’t help but be honest with you. Who would I be if I wasn’t?” He caught the look on your face and rolled his eyes, flicking the lighter absentmindedly. “Or, you know, you could just call him up and give him a piece of your mind. Maybe that will push him right in the direction of Silver Springs.”
You rolled your eyes and muttered, feeling the familiar laziness creeping into your body. You barely resisted the urge to snort at his suggestion. “The Fleetwood Mac song?”
“Yeah, Stevie cursed him, you know. Lindsey. In ‘97. Hexed him right on stage in front of everyone. So if I were you, I would call him up and tell him what direction he can shove his thumb up his own ass.”
You laughed again, shaking your head at Rafayel’s ridiculous suggestion. The pot was doing its job, making everything seem way funnier than it should be.
“I don’t know, man,” you sighed, sinking further into the seat. “Even if Zayne does leave his wife for me, which would be so wrong, what about Father Sylus? I mean, I kissed a priest, for Christ’s sake!”
Rafayel took another long drag from the bowl before setting it between you in the cupholder, smoke once again billowing in the car as he responded. “Hey, forbidden love is the hottest kind. And I figure if I’m going to get any entertainment out of this town, it’s gonna be from you at this point. So just call the fucking doctor while I’m still high.” With that, he shoved your shoulder, and you turned and shoved him right back.
You grumbled as you reached for your phone, unlocking it as the smoke settled around you. You scrolled through your contacts until your thumb was right over the number. It was so tempting, especially with the encouragement of the young man beside you - but you stayed still.
You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.
“Fuck it.” You breathed deeply, heart hammering, and hit the phone symbol. As soon as you heard the first ring, you nearly jumped.
Why do I do this? A mantra in your mind, like a worm in your skull, beating against the insides repeatedly with a tiny hammer.
You waited, putting the phone on speaker so the idiot beside you could hear. After a few long rings, you were about to hang up when there was a click. An unfamiliar voice picked up instead of the one you were used to, and the wave of anxiety almost made you dizzy.
“Hello?” Her voice was soft, not as straightforward or bubbly as you had imagined she would sound.
Silent, you swallowed thickly, and along with the fear, you felt the ache settle in once again. The sharp guilt began coiling around you. You looked toward Rafayel, who suddenly looked just as panicked as you. He quickly grabbed your phone, raising an index finger to his lips and giving you a stern look.
“Hi! Uh, I’m calling about your car's extended warranty!” Rafayel quickly stated, cutting off whatever the woman was about to say next. Then, he turned and threw your phone out of the open window.
The two of you stared at each other blankly. Then, all the adrenaline hit you at once, and the numb haze obliterated.
“Oh my God, fuck!” You managed to say, trying and failing to fight the delirious laughter that began wrapping through your body. You barely noticed your vision clouded with tears, and your next laugh came out mixed with a sob. “That was his - and you just - HA! You threw my phone out the window!”
“Listen, Y/N, I don’t think that was a good -”
“FUCK.” You kicked the dashboard with your foot, the glove compartment popping open and spilling its contents onto the car's floor. “How could you throw my phone out the window like that?” you cried, turning to glare at Rafayel through your tears.
He held up his hands defensively. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later. That was his wife on the phone, not him! What were you going to say to her anyway?”
“I don’t know!” you wailed, burying your face in your hands. The high rapidly dissipated, ruined, and replaced by a growing despair. “I’m a horrible person. What am I doing with my life?”
Rafayel sighed and scooted closer, draping an arm lazily around your shaking shoulders. “Hey, you’re not a horrible person. Do you want a Xanax?”
“No, I don’t want Xanax! Go get my phone!”
“Okay, okay! Just chill out.” Rafayel moved to open the car door but paused, a muttered curse leaving his mouth before he hurriedly attempted to clean up the drug paraphernalia scattered on the console. Then he turned just in time to have a flashlight shone in his face. In all of your agitation, it appeared that neither of you had noticed the other vehicle that had pulled up.
“Hi, Tara.” Rafeyel greeted the deputy at the window with a thinly veiled hint of irritation as he shielded his eyes with the back of one hand. “Good to see you.”
Tara looked at him, and then her eyes landed on you and widened slightly, her mouth parting as she put the two of you together. “Really? You’re back home?”
Tara was only a couple years younger than you, and there was no surprise that this was her chosen profession. You remembered how she used to hang around all the time in high school, staying behind and hoping you’d ask her to hang out to go to a party. Even back then, it was as if you couldn’t shake her, the girl pursuing anything and getting into anything she could think of.
“So, uh.” Tara leaned over and peeked into the car, leaning her free hand on the window. Perfectly manicured nails and the same cherry red lipstick; her features and skin soft. “What are you guys doing?”
You started to laugh again, unable to resist the odd delight rippling through you. Rafayel tensed, and his lips pressed together as he looked at you in warning.
“Nothing, officer.” You answered with a grin. “Don’t you have more important things to do? What’s all we ever did when we came up here?”
Rafayel slapped a hand to his forehead. Tara scoffed and looked around nervously, as if confused as to how you reached the admission you realized shouldn’t have slipped out of your mouth so easily. Her sudden lack of boldness reminded you of the faux courage she often displayed when she was younger, which was why you were never that close with her.
As long as you’ve known Talia, she was the type to call the priest whenever something happened. Even though you partially expected it, you were still on edge seeing Father Sylus walking into the tiny police station with her.
You were sitting on a bench with Rafayel, feeling angry and frustrated, and your high completely came down when the two of them walked in. Your head snapped up at the sight of the tall man next to Talia, looking composed and put together while she looked like she had just taken a sleeping pill. It truly was no surprise to see Talia rushing in to rescue Rafayel from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.
“Rafayel.” Talia’s small, five-foot frame was in front of her nephew. “You…” She rubbed her temples and let out a groan.
“Sorry, Talia.” He held up his hands, which were cuffed together, a bit of a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he thought this was the most amusing thing that could possibly happen to him.
You averted your gaze again, the memory of the kiss burning in your mind, and you couldn’t bear to look up. A fresh wave of shame washed over you. Talia’s exasperated voice faded into the background as your heart pounded.
“Come on, let’s get you two out of here,” Talia finally said with a sigh. She turned to Tara, who was seated at the desk nearby. “I’m assuming there won’t be any charges? They were just being stupid, right Tara?”
Tara glanced between you and Rafayel, conflict flickering across her face. You could see the gears turning in her mind, weighing the social capital to be gained by letting this slide versus following protocol. After a tense beat, she sighed and waved a dismissive hand.
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go fill out the paperwork.”
Talia nodded curtly and followed Tara out of the room, and an awkward silence descended, thick and lingering, although you couldn’t pinpoint the cause of it. You kept your gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum, tracing patterns with your eyes.
“Hey, Father,” Rafayel said, “What’d Talia say when she called you?”
“She asked for a ride, said she would kill you, and needed someone to perform the last rites.”
Rafayel let out a short laugh at Father Sylus’ dry response, but you remained silent, still unable to bring yourself to look at the priest. Your mind kept replaying that moment - the gentle press of his lips against yours. How could you face him now, after what transpired between you? What would you even say?
“Right.” Rafayel hummed, “Suppose I should thank you then. Potentially saving my soul and all that.” He nudged you with his elbow, “Ain’t that right, bestie?”
“Yeah, thanks.” You mumbled, only lifting your head when Tara appeared in front of you to remove the handcuffs from your wrists. Talia moved before her nephew, jingling her car keys before dropping them into his hands.
“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind, Rafayel,” She grumbled. He flashed her a cheeky grin but wisely kept his mouth shut this time.
“I can take Y/N home.” Father Sylus nodded toward you once you stood and shook out your wrists. Nervously, your eyes flickered to Rafayel, who looked terrified for you for a brief second before mouthing the words, 'Touch his butt.'
A moment later, you found yourself outside the police station next to the priest who had consumed your thoughts since that ill-advised kiss. You shivered in the harsh autumn breeze that cut straight through the light jacket you wore. You risked a brief glance at Father Sylus. He stood without a jacket, radiating heat, and for a moment, you wanted to press against him to feel that warmth.
You found your words. “I - I can get home on my own,” you said, a bit harsher than was necessary. “I’m an adult the last time I checked.”
Father Sylus paused at the bottom of the steps and turned around. There wasn’t any tension or hesitation in his tone, just like the other night. He was just genuinely inquiring. “How are you feeling, Y/N?”
Shivering slightly and wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked toward the man and offered a smile. Your voice had the faintest tremor as you tried to joke, “I’ve been better.”
Father Sylus glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you fell into step beside him, releasing a little snort at your sarcasm, a gesture that, for some reason, sent a hot rush of awe through you.
“That’s all right, Y/N.” He said with a sad smile. “We can talk about it later if you want. For now, the important thing is getting you home.” Reflexively, his hand came to rest on the small of your back as he steered you toward the parking lot.
Just the brief caress of his warm hand on your back made your thighs clench. It didn’t mean anything, you told yourself, but your stomach churned as the sweet electricity of his touch rushed through you.
Stop it, you told yourself. He was just showing you where he had parked. Yet his lingering warmth was flooding your senses. Swallowing thickly, you pinched your brows together and hoped you didn’t actually upset him in any way.
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“About what?”
“The things you’re into.”
Stopping, a hard lump formed in your throat, and the entire world fell into a hush. The nearly pitch black parking lot of the police station, the night chill, the beautiful priest that just - was he teasing you, now?
“Again. I’m in my twenties. Weed,” you snapped, emphasizing the last word, “Isn’t a big deal.”
His palm felt scorching through your jacket as he closed a hand around the top of your shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Hey now,” He said, making your breath hitch as you stiffened slightly. “It was just a question.”
You said nothing, simply sliding into the passenger seat of Father Sylus’s car.
A quiet settled between you two in the car, then. All you could do was look out the window at the dark neighborhood and overanalyze every word, every touch, trying to pinpoint exactly how you felt. But how could you even explain that the man beside you gave you the thrill of wanting to do something terrible? Because there had been a moment with him, something that broke the reality of the relationship the two of you had. It didn’t necessarily feel awful, more like an unspoken truth waiting to be expressed.
You tried to control your emotions and thought process, registering that you were in front of your house now. Just as you were going to say goodnight and grab the door handle, you heard Father Sylus speak.
“I owe you an apology for the other night.” The quiet murmur was easy to miss, but you did everything possible to hang onto the sound. A mix of breath. You looked back at him, trying to catch his eyes in the darkness only illuminated by the porch light from the distance.
“I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” He continued, “I’d still like for us to talk.”
As tempting as it was to open the car door and leave, the ache in your belly nearly overwhelmed you. A terrible, crushing sense of longing settled in. Knowing where the lines were drew a blank in your mind. Where the hell were you supposed to draw the line? Fuck, was this situation genuine, or just one of opportunity?
“Can I ask an inappropriate question, Father?” You choked out, swallowing the lump of anxiety that wound its way around the base of your neck. You watched as he shut the car off.
“What is it?” He wasn't looking at you, but the hand still on the wheel tightened slightly.
Inhaling deeply, your heart thumped at an aching speed as you murmured your question, your voice beginning to betray how much he affected you. “Do you kiss a lot of girls?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Why the hell did you mean to bring that up? What good would knowing do, even? Right, of course, you would just go ahead and ruin the image of purity - what was the worst that could happen?
“Well,” You continued, unable to stop yourself but choosing your words carefully, “You kissed me. So, do you kiss a lot of girls?”
Father Sylus was quiet for a long, brutal moment. You felt sweat bead on your skin despite the car being cool. Clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm, you try to brace yourself. You hadn’t intended to ask your question so outwardly , but what other way was there to put it?
“Y/N, you’re trying to minimize our connection,” he said. He took a deep, steadying breath and then rubbed a hand over his brow. “And I can ignore it. I can try to pray for the strength to bear it.”
Then, he met your gaze directly. In the light from the porch, you could see how his crimson eyes tore into you, emotion suddenly exposed and bared. For the second time, he had allowed you to glimpse what was hiding under the careful mask he put on.
You almost flinched as he touched your knee, his tone dropping. “But I won’t diminish it.”
You found yourself falling, then, into those wounded eyes. You slid your hand forward and set it over his, the heat from the simple touch making you feel like you had touched an ember.
Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned across the center console to kiss him, slow and sweet.
Please don’t push me away.
For a moment, you feel his surprise. However, just before you pull away, he pulls you forward, one warm hand sliding up your back and the other threading through your hair gently, reverently.
You moan softly into his mouth, and his grip tightens slightly. He deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth. You lose yourself in the feel of his lips on yours, his hands on your body.
The gentleness he handles you with stokes the fire within you, warming you from the inside and slowly turning into a fever. You long for him to hold you tightly, to show you he wanted you too - you need that affirmation.
Then his lips grazed the shell of your ear, voice husky and warm. “You’re far too close for your own good.”
What sort of torment was this? All these words hung in the air that you wanted to say, but none came to your mind except for -
“Fuck me,” you rasped. Your face felt hot as the words spilled from your lips, driven by the intensity of your want. “Please, I -”
He silenced you with his mouth, capturing your lips again. His kiss is no less intense and consuming but maintains a level of restraint that a part of you hoped was rapidly crumbling. Your hands move on their own accord, reaching for his belt.
A hand on your wrist stops you before you can go any further, his skin like silk against the pounding pulse point of your wrist. It was a heavyweight, slowly making its way up to where your heart was beating wildly.
He’s looking directly into your eyes when he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently.
“No here, sweetheart.” His voice is feather-light as he speaks. “Not like this.”
While he let go of your wrist, something unseen held you in place. But it was only momentarily before the horror of what you had tried to do crashed over you.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I - what the fuck am I doing?”
With the state you were in, it wouldn’t take much for the well of tears to come. Unable to look at him, you unlocked the car door and pushed it open, nearly tripping on your feet as you stumbled onto the pavement.
You didn’t look back, fearing falling apart, and slammed the door shut.
Rather than going through the front door, you circled the house and went up the back porch through the kitchen. Once inside, you walked past your dad in the living room, who was sleeping on the couch with the television blaring and a near-empty bottle of beer within arm’s reach.
You went into the bathroom in the hallway, shut and locked the door, then slid down onto the cold tile.
The rejection shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. No, this was different. Something deep inside, something raw and fiery, made the ache grow exponentially. It was the memory of the touch, the intoxicating mixture of scents.
Anger clawed its way to the surface because you couldn’t even wrap your head around what you felt. How pathetic, how foolish, how humiliating.
Clutching the sides of your head, you let out a scream, frustration causing your body to shake.
You wanted so badly to disappear.
Did God have a sense of humor or something?
tag list: @celestialforce @readerxyourbabe
#lds#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#lads sylus#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads fanfic#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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in response to your beautiful “fraud Stan” art (again, beautiful btw)
i think stanFORD was one of those dudes who hated nickname and was very serious about his full name being use at all times. the only one who were allowed to give him nicknames was his brother (who did it out of honest love) and bill (who capitalized on “love” to control him).
versus stanLEY was the sibling/brother/friend who had a million nicknames are responded to them all; stan, stan-the-man, s-man, stanny, stan lee not the comic man. other horrible name examples. he was used to changing his name several times that anything that remotely SOUNDS like a name, he’d answer to it; the only word that felt like a nickname he EARNED was “grunkle”.
again, your art is beautiful and i hope you don’t mind me throwing this at you. smooches <3
oh my goodness thank u so much!! <33 im both flattered and a bit overwhelmed by the reception that piece has gotten. ohh man im so glad you sent because i have so so many thoughts on both of them!!
anyway. ur so very real. stanford pines is someone that had a very established identity from the beginning. he was a genius brainiac that didn't fit in with other kids, singled out from the beginning both by personality and by body. his six fingers serve as a constant reminder that he can't be anyone else but him. of course he'd search for acceptance through the thing he ties his self worth to: his intelligence. of course he'd fall victim to the first person who told him his existence was something to be celebrated!! he looks at his name, once with distaste, nowadays with neutral acceptance. he's stanford pines, he has six fingers, and he does not do well with people.
on the contrary, stanley pines…didn't have any of that. he was overlooked by his father, wishing he could get the same recognition as ford. he didn't have any merits of his own. barely passing highschool, on the verge of losing ford, and seemingly destined to stay in glass beach forever, his teenage years were marked by a desperation to hold onto whatever connections he had. after getting kicked out, he still lives in the shadow of his brother - trying constantly to achieve a success that would compare to ford's brilliance. his name didn't mean shit; it was his brother who mattered. stanley pines can turn into whoever and whatever he needs because he never had an identity worth holding onto in the first place.
in an ironic twist of fate, stanley ends up living with his brother's name, borrowing off of his achievements in order to both survive and save him. the mystery shack is now a lively place for random kids he managed to sort of adopt in spite of himself. ford isolated himself from everyone that cared about him; stan took his life and made it into a home. he was never brilliant like his brother, but the love he has for his family transformed ford's path of destruction into one of renewal. he saved his brother by destroying his life.
it's the nature of twins have their existence intertwined beyond seperation. stanley and stanford's lives align to save each other.
#gravity falls#stanford pines#stanley pines#stan pines#ford pines#answered asks#gahhh!!!!!!! answering this made me so excited god i love character dissections#u are ALWAYS welcome to throw things at me more often. in fact i would love it if u sent more
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Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 19/?
Can I offer everyone some distraction and escape tonight? If you have sent a prompt to my inbox, I will get on those tonight and tomorrow. Just wanted to get a longer offering up as well. It's going to get worse before it ever gets better. Do what you have to do to stay safe, and try to do good where you can. I pray for better days ahead.
Pairing: Buck/Tommy
Vampire/Witch!AU
Read on AO3
From the moment Tommy’s coven master stepped into the house, Evan could tell he was powerful.
Not as powerful as Tommy. Not as old as Tommy, either…but definitely not a new vampire. Something about the way he carried himself gave Evan the impression that he was used to being listened to. Obeyed. His dark eyes zeroed in on Evan as he made his way to Tommy’s living room, and even with no fangs visible, Evan absolutely received the message that this man would neither hesitate to kill him, nor feel an ounce of guilt over it. It should have been terrifying. And make no mistake, Evan was wary.
But he wasn’t afraid.
His magic hummed in the back of his mind, strong and ready to use to defend himself. Even if he had not recovered from the effects of using the teleport spell, though…Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him.
The knowledge settled in his mind, startling in its surety. Its absoluteness. Tommy wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Evan knew that.
He did not know how he knew that, or why it felt like such an immutable, inarguable fact. It was an insane thought to have. Sure, Tommy had put himself between Evan and danger several times already, but what possible reason could Evan have for thinking that he’d continue to do so? Against his own coven master, no less? He didn’t have one…and yet he was so completely confident in the belief that he met the vampire’s eyes squarely, his magic swirling contentedly through his body.
He listened as Tommy argued back and forth with his coven master, tensing as Alonzo revealed that the vampires were already spreading rumors about what had happened in Greenway’s office. He’d known in the back of his mind that the men who’d attacked them weren’t likely to just ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again…but the high coven had seemed the larger threat.
He couldn’t even really blame this Alonzo person for asking Tommy to get rid of him, to turn him over to the high coven and just cut his losses. Hadn’t Evan been begging Tommy to do just that before Alonzo appeared? It was the smart play—the only play that could possibly keep Tommy and his coven out of this.
God, he wanted to give Tommy a way out of this.
“I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”
“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason. Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”
Evan ignored Alonzo, staring at Tommy as he seemed to consider their words. He wasn’t sure how this whole mess was going to end. He hoped Grant and her coven could find what they needed to in time to avoid a coven war…but Evan knew better than most the kinds of things that powerful covens could get away with when they wanted to. He wasn’t terribly confident. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to give them the chance.
He thought Tommy felt the same way. Like everything else about the vampire, it seemed a ridiculous thought to have. Three days ago, would have laughed out loud at the idea that a vampire could care about innocent people dying in a coven war. But he’d seen firsthand how much Tommy cared about his coven. Despite the horrible way they’d come into each other’s lives, Tommy had been nothing but honest with him. Honorable. Kind.
Protective.
He wasn’t an idiot. And he wasn’t naïve. Tommy had killed people. More people than Evan could probably conceive of, given how old he was. But Evan didn’t think the vampire was faking the disgust he seemed to feel for the wanton violence and cruelty of the party he’d rescued Evan from. He didn’t think Tommy was faking his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the city. Something inside Evan told him that Tommy wanted to stop what was coming just as much as Evan did.
The difference was, if Evan died in this storm they’d somehow entered into, the collateral damage would be minimal.
Sally had cut ties with him.
His parents had never cared for him to begin with.
Maddie probably thought he was already dead…or had abandoned her.
There was no one left to care if he died, but Tommy had a whole coven who would mourn him. Hell, Evan had interacted with them for less than two hours, but he could tell how close Tommy was with the two vampires who had come to the loft. There was no reason for Tommy to go down this road with him when there were so many people who would be hurt if Tommy got himself killed. He knew Tommy wouldn’t stand for just turning Evan over to the high coven, but letting him go and then taking a story about Evan casting a compulsion over Tommy to them was the absolute best move that Tommy could make. For his coven. For himself.
“I can’t do that.” The vampire’s voice was clear. Steady. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the words. Tommy’s eyes bored relentlessly into his, his back ramrod straight as he refused, refused the out Evan was offering him. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”
And…what? Evan startled, barely managing to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. Wait—wait, no, he couldn’t have heard that correctly. That made no sense. That was—
“Thomas, are you insane? You can’t be serious!” Tommy’s coven master sounded as shocked as Evan felt, the cool, calm demeanor he’d been affecting since he entered the bungalow cracking.
He started to pace back and forth, his movements quick and agitated, and Evan tucked one hand behind his back, clenching his fist and focusing on his magic the way Sally had taught him, drawing it tightly inwards, ready to spring forth at his command. No witch was powerful enough to cast without the structure of a spell…but thanks to Sally’s lessons, Evan could cast faster than most.
Tommy stepped deliberately between them, facing his coven master, and Evan felt a flush of warmth he couldn’t even try to deny. Alonzo’s next words, though, were like a bucket of ice water being poured straight down Evan’s spine.
“If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”
He gasped. He knew he gasped, the soft, breathy sound of it punching out of him entirely without his permission. No. No, Alonzo couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And even if he was, there was no way that Tommy would—
“Exactly,” Tommy said. His voice was still so steady, so sure. As though he was talking about something as minor as changing the paint color in his living room or what he might make for dinner and not…not…
Tommy and his coven master continued speaking, but Evan couldn’t make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He felt frozen, stopped, his mind swarming with memories and feelings that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to examine in years. The blood pounded in his head, his focus on his magic splintering. No. No, Tommy couldn’t—he wouldn’t…
“Thomas. You’ll be convenless.”
“I’ve been covenless before.”
Covenless. There were a thousand other meanings for that word, and Evan had lived every one for the last five years.
To be covenless was to be nothing. Less than nothing. When Evan had been banished from his coven, he’d lost everything. His home, his family, his familiar. His future. His identity. Everything that made him who he was had been stripped from him, and he’d been left to rebuild himself from fucking scratch…only he’d never be able to. Not really.
To be covenless was to be alone. Completely alone. Unwelcome in every corner of the world you’d thought would be yours forever, unwanted and uncared for. Evan had lost his coven bonds and he’d become a ghost. He’d lost everything when he lost his coven. How could Tommy just give it up?
Why…why would he do something like that for him?
Evan watched in frozen, horrified silence as Tommy did it. Severed himself from his coven. Turned his back on his home, his family, the people he cared for…for Evan. He listened to the oddly formal words—completely devoid of the power that he’d felt when the Pennsylvania high coven handed down his sentence, and yet somehow just as heavy. Just as important. Some part of him tried to remind himself that Tommy had said vampire covens didn’t function the way witch covens did. Vampire covens were alliances, not bonds that were formed in blood and magic…but it didn’t matter. Tommy was giving up his coven. For him.
To protect him. He’d said it. He’d said he wasn’t going to leave Evan to face this storm alone.
It was impossible. It was irrational. It made absolutely no sense. He was watching it with his own eyes, and he didn’t understand. He’d given himself up for Maddie. He’d sacrificed everything he ever was or ever would be to keep her safe, to make sure that she didn’t suffer for what she had to do to set herself free from Doug. He hadn’t set out to lose his coven because of it, he’d just known it was a likely outcome. Had Tommy known he was going to do this when his coven master walked through the door? Had he looked at the situation the way Evan had all those years ago, his sister’s heartwrenching sobs ringing in his ears as they stood over Doug’s still body, and made the same choice Evan had in that moment? How? How?
It had been an easy sacrifice for him to make for Maddie. Losing his coven had been the hardest thing he’d ever experienced or ever would experience, but it had been worth it to save his sister. Keep her safe. Protect her.
But…but he loved Maddie. Loved her more than anything else in the world, loved her more than he loved himself.
What motivation did Tommy have to give up his coven for Evan?
Tommy was still for a long moment after his coven master–fuck, his ex coven master, what had he done?—left the bungalow. Evan listened to the sound of the vampire's car start up, still feeling like he'd been encased in a block of ice. Tommy's shoulders slumped slightly as the sound of the car faded down the driveway, growing more and more distant, and he cracked his neck a couple times before turning to look at Evan.
Evan didn't know what his face looked like, but Tommy's immediately softened. It was almost unbearable to watch…Tommy had just made himself covenless, how could he have room to feel sympathy for Evan?
“Evan, remember. Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me,” he said, and his voice was so, so gentle.
As if Evan was the one who needed to be handled carefully, as though Evan was the one hurting. Because he was hurting. Evan knew that without a doubt, knew it the same way he’d known that Tommy wouldn’t let his coven master hurt him—it was a quiet certainty, a solid as stone beneath his feet. He felt suddenly sick, too hot and too cold at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest, his magic thrumming through him insistently, and he shook his head.
“Why…” He broke off, suddenly unable to meet Tommy’s eyes, and swallowed hard. “Why did you do that?” he managed to choke out, his voice sounding alien to his own ears.
Tommy tilted his head slightly, a stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of him. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he said, as though that were an actual reason to leave his coven, to voluntarily give it up.
Evan shook his head again, his head still spinning. “That doesn’t make sense!” he burst out. “Tommy, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”
Infuriatingly, Tommy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he reached up to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder. There was no heat from the touch, of course, and yet Evan swore he could feel the shape of Tommy’s hand on him like a brand. His magic sparked through him, swirling in his chest like champagne bubbles. “I’ve heard that before, Evan. Hasn’t happened, yet,” he said.
“It’s not worth it,” Evan said.
Losing your coven isn’t worth it, Evan meant.
I’m not worth it, Evan meant.
Tommy’s hand loosened briefly, his fingers twitching like he wanted to move them. For a few heartbeats, Evan had the bizarre sense that Tommy was restraining himself from reaching up, brushing the skin of Evan’s throat, skating his fingers higher and higher to touch Evan’s face. Even more bizarre was the pulse of disappointment when Tommy merely patted his shoulder and stepped back, a strange expression twisting his features.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the vampire said. “Now…are you ready to start this snipe hunt?”
*
“How worried do we have to be about one of those locator spells?” Tommy asked as he guided the SUV onto the highway, heading for the address that his friend Chimney had provided.
Evan blinked, startled out of thoughts that would not stop racing in circles no matter how hard he tried. He was glad for the new topic to focus on, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window. “Depends. If your, uh, if Alonzo lets the high coven have some of your stuff when he talks to them, it could be a problem. If it’s something you’re really attached to.” He opened his eyes and shot Tommy a sidelong glance. “Do you have a lot of things at your coven house?” he asked quietly.
Tommy chuckled, not taking his eyes off the road. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but he didn’t seem especially upset. “Some. Not as much as you might think someone could collect over eight hundred years. I’ve never really cared about things. Most of what I really give a shit about, I keep at the bungalow. But I can text Sal and Lucy and tell them to hide a few other things at the coven house.”
Evan nodded to himself. “We should have a day or two before it even becomes an issue—and they might not think it’s worth it. It’d be hard to hold a locator spell on a vampire. Most of our really complicated magic doesn’t work so great on you.”
Tommy made a curious hum. “Why’s that?”
Evan shrugged. “No one really knows. Probably for the same reason that you can’t turn witches.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I can cast a charm that’ll let me know if someone’s trying to spell you,” he offered after a moment. “And disrupt it.”
“Will it be a drain on you? I’d rather you save your strength for when we run into trouble.”
“A disruption? Yeah, that’d be hard for me to keep up for very long…but the alert charm is simple. Sa—someone taught it to me when I was a kid, to help me channel my intentions in a spell. Those kinds of things, losing my coven bond doesn’t really, uh, doesn’t really affect me that much,” he finished quietly. “But it’s still a spell. I, I, I get it if you don’t want me casting anything on you.”
Tommy was silent for a long moment, before he said quietly, “I trust you, Evan. Do I need to pull over?”
“Wait, not? You want me to cast it now?” Evan blinked, the calm certainty in Tommy’s voice when he said he trusted him catching him off-guard. Tommy shrugged one shoulder.
“Might as well. I don’t want to risk getting distracted later—and any advantage we can get is worth taking.”
“Um, okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Uh, no, it—you won’t feel anything. Maybe like, a tingle? But it won’t hurt or anything. I can do it while you’re driving.” He pressed his lips together, considering. “Can I have your hand?”
Tommy startled a little at that, shooting him a quick, bemused look. “Sure?” he said, stretching one hand out toward Evan.
Evan took it, cradling it in his palms and resting two fingers on where Tommy’s pulsepoint should be in his wrist. It was odd not to feel the beat of life underneath his fingers, to trace skin that was oddly cool, blue veins standing out more starkly than he was used to. He leaned over Tommy’s hand and started chanting, his magic all but leaping to his fingertips as he murmured the familiar spell. Tommy kept his eyes on the road, but Evan could sense him shooting quick little looks his way, even as he held his hand trustingly still.
It was strangely intimate. The thought skipped through Evan’s head and was gone as he felt the spell building, his hands beginning to glow with the white light of a witch’s power. He breathed out the last words of the spell and pressed the magic gently into the skin of Tommy’s wrist, a sigil glowing briefly before fading to near invisibility. Tommy shivered as the sigil sunk in, his fingers flexing, but he held still until the light of Evan’s magic faded. Moving slowly—almost reluctantly?—he slipped his hand from Evan’s grasp and looked at the inside of his wrist, his eyebrow twitching upwards minutely.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“That’s it,” Evan confirmed, settling back in his seat and going back to staring out the window. “If anyone tries to cast on you, I’ll know.”
“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said.
Evan nodded silently, watching the LA scenery fly past the window as Tommy sped towards Greenway’s house. He felt like his brain was spinning as fast as the tires, too much happening for him to really get a grasp on it. He needed to. He couldn’t afford to be spiraling with them potentially heading into a hostile situation. Everything—his confusion and disbelief and, yes, all right, his guilt over Tommy giving up his coven, his worry about what they were walking into, his fear for what could happen in this city if they failed, he had to let it all go. He could almost hear Sally’s voice in his head, chidingly reminding him that he needed to stay focused.
Find an anchor, little love. A single thing to concentrate on and hold onto that, no matter what.
Good advice…but advice he’d struggled to take all his life. He looked over at Tommy again, taking in his profile as he tried to read his stoic expression, tried to figure out what might be running through the vampire’s head. Tommy said he trusted him. After knowing him only a couple of days, Tommy was willing to take risks for him that he wouldn’t have asked of anyone in his coven except maybe Maddie. Had made sacrifices for him that Evan knew down to the marrow of his bones his own parents would never have made. Tommy said he trusted him.
Evan breathed out slowly, his magic ebbing through him in time to his heartbeat. In the face of everything, he let the simple truth that had been trying to form in his mind since Tommy had given up his place in his coven to protect Evan wash over him. He trusted Tommy, too. And that was what he was going to hold onto, no matter what.
*
Jonah Greenway had lived on a surprisingly quiet street in a small, nondescript house that was neither especially nice nor especially run-down. Tommy took a couple of laps around the block in the SUV, trying to scout if there was anybody already there. Evan had been slightly worried that the place would already have been under a police investigation, but credit where credit was due—the SoCal high coven was very good at keeping their world secret.
“Looks clear,” Tommy muttered after the third lap around the block. They’d stopped a few intersections and pulled into and reversed out of a couple of driveways to hopefully make it look as though they were just lost to any nosy neighbors who might notice a large SUV with heavily tinted windows. He pulled to a stop about a block down the street from Greenway’s house.
“Wait—how are we getting you in there?” Evan asked, tipping his head towards the window…and the sun-drenched street outside it. It would have been easier to wait ‘til at least dusk to leave the bungalow, but the need to give Grant and her coven enough time to do their own investigations created a sense of urgency that would not be ignored.
“I can take sunlight for a few minutes,” Tommy said, frowning distastefully and twisting in his seat to dis around in the floor behind him. He sat up a moment later with a large black hoodie and pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the pockets. “Although no offense, I’m gonna walk a hell of a lot faster than you.”
“Dressed like the villain in an after-school special?” Evan asked dubiously, his eyebrow climbing when Tommy pulled his sun visor down and grabbed a large pair of sunglasses clipped to the edge. “Really?”
“If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to avoid the third-degree sunburn I’m about to get.”
Evan debated a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh and poking at the edges of his magic, feeling out the strength. Then he turned in his own seat, staring hard out the back windshield at the corner of Greenway’s house that was visible. There was a decently-sized porch with a roof, and Evan knew any witch worth his salt would have had look-away charms on his house, though they might have lost power when Greenway died. Still, if that was the case, then any hexes or traps he’d laid on the property would also be defunct, and Tommy would be able to break into the place quickly. Evan felt confident he could handle any hexes that were still active, and short out an alarm system fast enough that it would register as a glitch.
“Try not to move, okay?” he said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s wrist as he focused on the corner of the porch he could see, and chanted the spell.
His ears popped, the whole world going quiet and shadowy, sound muffling almost to the point that he was enveloped in silence. The air around him turned absolutely freezing, colder than any Pennsylvania winter, and as the spell ended he couldn’t help coughing. Beside him, he heard Tommy gasp something in a language he didn’t recognize—though by the tone, he could tell it wasn’t polite—and the vampire scrambled to his feet, his wrist twisting under Evan’s to grab at his hand and yank him to his feet as well.
They were standing on Greenway’s porch, well-shaded from the afternoon sunlight.
“What the hell?! What did you do?” Tommy demanded, looking around him in shock. “That wasn’t the same thing you did at the office!”
Evan laughed shortly, pulling away so he could examine the door in front of them. The fact that no defense spells had triggered when they appeared on the porch was encouraging, but he wasn’t going to just take it on faith that Greenway didn’t have something more powerful than simple charms and hexes waiting. “No—a teleport is major magic even when you have a coven bond. I’m not risking that unless there’s no other choice. I took us through the between.” He reached out and let his hand hover over the doorknob, unable to feel the telltale tingle of magic against his skin.
“The…wasn’t that where Greenway hid the flash drive?”
“Yup.”
“And you can…go…there?” Tommy continued slowly.
“If you know how. Most of us just use it like Greenway did. Like a hiding place. Kind of a magical safe-deposit box? But the between is as big or small as you know it is, and it exists wherever you know it will. So, if you know it’s big enough to fit you, and you know it exists where you want to be, you can get to it.”
“That—okay, that actually makes a weird sort of sense and explains a couple of encounters I’ve had over the years. I haven’t met any witch who could do something like that in a century or two, though.”
Evan shrugged, still examining the door. “Not a lot of us can, anymore. It’s old magic. Like, old-fashioned magic, not, uh, not old as in ancient. It’s easy to get lost in, so it’s not like it’s in the normal, everyday lessons. Sally only taught me because—” He broke off, his brain catching up with the amount of private information his mouth was just casually giving away.
Tommy was silent for a moment. “Sally was your familiar?” he asked gently.
Evan clenched his jaw, before nodding quickly. “I don’t think there’s any kind of spell on the door,” he said. Thankfully, Tommy accepted the abrupt subject change, stepping around Evan to grip the doorknob and give the door a fast, almost casual shove with his shoulder. The deadbolt snapped in an instant, and Tommy stepped back to interpose himself between Evan and anything that might be waiting for them inside.
Only silence greeted them, however.
Tommy cocked his head, listening intently, before his shoulders relaxed. “It’s empty,” he said. “But stay close.” He stepped inside the darkened interior of Greenway’s house. Evan took a deep breath and followed, his eyes roving over his surroundings curiously.
The house was surprisingly…sterile. It had all the trappings of a home—comfortable furniture, plush carpets on the floors, bookshelves full of books and mementos, art hanging on the walls. Yet, the place felt cold to Evan. There was none of the warmth and character of Tommy’s bungalow. The place felt like a showroom or a magazine cover. Everything perfectly chosen and placed to present a picture that it just…wasn’t.
It felt, he reflected wryly, like the house he had grown up in.
“Howie and Grant already searched the place for anything useful, but the high coven hasn’t gotten here yet. We need them to think we’re looking for something, get them to waste resources trying to find it first. Toss the place?” Tommy asked, glancing back at Evan with a questioning look. Evan shrugged, turning a slow circle in the large, open-plan living space that took up most of the first floor. Something felt…off.
“They really didn’t find anything?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.
“Nada,” Tommy confirmed, watching as Evan looked all around him. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, I just…there’s something…” he trailed off, the frustratingly feeling of something just out of his reach dancing at the edge of his senses. His eyes fell on a mirror propped up in the corner of a set of recessed bookshelves that had been built into the walls on either side of a large picture window in what Greenway had set up as his living room. Directly in front of the window was a large, ornate wooden writing desk. Evan tilted his head and followed the line of where the mirror was facing…to another mirror mounted on the wall by the stairs to the second story. The mirror was positioned oddly, slightly off-center of where Evan would expect it to be, just enough to look a little wonky. In fact, if he stood in front of that mirror and followed the line of where it was facing, he would find…
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Evan muttered.
“What?” Tommy demanded immediately.
In answer, Evan spun another slow circle in the center of the room, tracing the sightlines of multiple mirrors positioned all around the room. That was what he was feeling. He hadn’t quite shaken the chill of the between from his senses, after all…and there was quite a lot of the between in this room.
“He hid something else here,” Evan said, finding the mirror that was positioned in the northernmost part of the room and pacing away from it until he was as close to the center of where the sight lines of all five of the mirrors around the living space met as he could get. “Fucking smart bastard, I’ll give him that.”
“Evan, what are you talking about? I’m pretty sure Howie and Grant would have known to look in this between place.”
“Yeah, but they might not have realized how big the between is here,” Evan countered. “Like I said…it’s not something a lot of witches learn anymore.”
Tommy tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked curious, though, not dismissive. “You keep talking like the size of it can change. Isn’t space…you know, space? Like there have to be boundaries.”
“Ever been in one of those house of mirrors they do at fairs and theme parks?” Evan asked, centering himself and focusing hard. He murmured the appropriate spell and reached toward the desk, the way he had in the office building to find the flash drive. The way he’d—sort of, it was a little more complicated than he’d explained to Tommy—done to get them from the car to the porch to avoid the sunlight. Only this time, he reached further into the between. Through all the layers of it that Greenway had folded it upon itself, over and over, until only a witch or familiar who regularly used it to shift themselves through space and not just store and hide things in would have even realized there was that much of it to explore in this house.
Evan did not travel through the between regularly. It was not something that witches did anymore, the dangers of getting lost too great. But he had been very carefully trained by someone who had learned the art in times when it had been a valuable tool for survival.
His hand closed on something in the between, and he curled his fingers around it and yanked. There was a soft pop in the air, and when he looked at the empty desk again, there was a small, leatherbound ledger sitting innocuously in the center of it. “Gotcha,” he hissed. He hurried forward and scooped the ledger off the desk, pulling at the bands of elastic that bound it at each corner.
“Great work Ev—GET DOWN!” Tommy’s voice changed in a flash, rising to a bellow as he lunged at Evan. Between one breath and the next, Tommy had made it across the room and wrapped himself around Evan, pulling Evan tight against his chest and spinning them around so that Tommy’s back was to the window.
There was a loud sound of shattering glass.
The clatter of something hitting the desk.
And then the whole world around Evan exploded into a mass of light. And sound. And force.
Evan felt himself lifted off his feet, flung across the room. Tommy’s body was wrapped tight around him, the vampire’s arms shielding him protectively, his face pressed hard against Tommy’s throat. They hit the floor hard enough that the breath was knocked from Evan’s lungs, but he was still dimly aware of Tommy taking the brunt of the landing, rolling them with the momentum, one hand cradling the back of Evan’s head and keeping it from cracking on the hardwood floors as they came to a rolling halt.
Evan coughed, everything spinning around him in dizzying circles, his ears ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. His whole body hurt, and when he pulled his head back from Tommy’s neck, the room was suddenly hazy with smoke. What…what had—
“Tommy?” he gasped, when the vampire made no move to let go, to get up. “Tommy, what—”
He could hardly hear his own voice, though he knew he was shouting. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder, more relief than he was willing to examine at the moment sweeping through him when he felt the vampire’s muscles bunch under his touch, felt Tommy shudder and start to struggle to get up. Something was wrong, though.
His vampire was moving too slowly, too sluggishly. When Evan blinked some of the hazy smoke out of his eyes, Tommy’s face—mere inches from his own—was twisted in a grimace of pain. Something hard pressed into the top of Evan’s abdomen, right under his breastbone, and he slowly became aware of a hot wetness seeping into his borrowed shirt. Gasping, he wrenched himself backwards enough so he could look down, a buzzing that had nothing to do with his ringing ears filling his head when his eyes focused on the massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that was poking into his chest.
The massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that had impaled Tommy through the back, gone clear through his body.
“Tommy! Tommy, what—”
“Evan…run,” his vampire managed to grit out, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.
“Aw come on Kinard. Let the witch stay.”
Evan’s heart sank, his eyes flying to the gaping hole where Greenway’s front window had been only seconds before. The blond vampire from the office building was clambering through the jagged opening, flanked by two other vampires that Evan hadn’t seen before. They were covered head to toe in the same getup that Tommy had been going to try to use to get across the sunny street—hoodies, gloves, long pants—but every inch of exposed skin was blistered and peeling, obviously burned by even what short exposure they’d had to the sun.
Blondie pulled his hood back, glaring at Evan and Tommy, a nasty smirk firmly in place on his face. Evan’s eyes flicked between the three of them as Tommy tried to push at his shoulder, still struggling to get his feet under him, even as more blood spurted out from around the piece of fucking shrapnel sprouting out of his chest.
Tommy was hurt. Badly.
The vampire who had protected him over and over, even when it made no logical sense for him to do so. The vampire who had been kinder and gentler to him over the past two days than any one of his own kind had been over the past five years. His vampire, who had refused to let Evan walk into danger alone.
His vampire, who had given up his own coven to stay by Evan’s side, against odds that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. His vampire.
Evan curled his arm protectively over Tommy’s back and reached for every drop of magic in his body, the most dangerous spell Sally had ever taught him fairly exploding out of him in a rush of power.
#911 abc#911 tv show#mywriting#bucktommy#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#buck x tommy#tommy kinard#shameless self promotion#kinley#firepilot#firebeast#tevan#tevan fic#bucktommy fic
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hi!!! can i start off by saying your writing is absolutely delicious. call me Ursula the way im finna steal your talent 😭
if this isn’t much of a bother, can i request husk x dog! reader? you can absolutely ignore this if it isn’t your cup of tea I won’t be offended 💥 💥
catch ya later!!!! (yes im a splatoon fan 😁)
CAT & DOG ᡣ𐭩
❀ summary; what it would be like to date husk as a sinner who is a dog !
❀ what to lookout for; use of petnames, lovey dovey stuff, slight suggestiveness at the end.
❀ extra notes; i'm so excited to post my first ever husk performance ! i hope you all enjoy !
- to start things off, you have floppy ears. like lady from lady and the tramp, just because i think she’s so cute.
- and husk absolutely LOVES playing with them because he loves how shy and flustered you tend to get.
- because he just stands there, behind the bar, with a smirk on his face as he fidgets with them between his fingers.
“husk, everyone is gonna stare at us”
“let ‘em, doll. can’t help that they’re so fuckin’ soft” husk continues fidgeting with your ears, leaning closer over the bar until your noses are almost touching. “‘sides, i know you like when i do this”
you let out a content hum. “can’t disagree with that”
- at first, everyone thought it was odd that a cat and dog sinner were together. except for charlie, she was the most supportive of you both and would not stop gushing to your faces about how cute she thought you both were. and to everyone else, for that matter.
- but then everyone realized that it was literally hell and stranger things have happened.
- you’re most definitely the only one husk lets touch his wings or fur.
- you know how sensitive his wings are so you’re always super careful.
- when he’s done working the bar for the day/night and he comes to lay in bed, you immediately start combing your fingers through his fur and you feel honoured to be the only one to hear him purr.
“right there, baby… mm, yeah… that’s the spot” husk is laying on his tummy as your fingers gently comb through his fur. you chuckle softly at him.
“y’know, for a grouchy bartender, you’re acting pretty soft and cute right now” you playfully joke at him. he hums, chuckling with you.
“maybe it’s because of the cute pup sitting next to me in my bed” and he looks up at you with a smirk on his face because he KNOWS that nickname makes you blush.
- oh yeah, husk calls you “pup”
- mainly when you’re alone. when you’re in public it’s the regular pet names.
- “baby,” “doll,” “sweetheart” etc.
- much like alastor, you tend to keep your tail hidden because you find it quite annoying.
- but when you and husk are alone, you let him play with it all he wants. tugging on it (gently), squeezing it.
- on the occasion, he’ll squeeze your tail in secret when you’re in the lobby, just because he loves seeing you get all riled up.
- he thinks it’s cute. and a little hot. okay, maybe, a lot hot.
- you definitely tell him that if he needs a dog, you can bark.
“this is the millionth time you’ve said this, babe…” husk grumbles and you laugh loudly.
“what can i say, i’ve got that dog in me” husk rolls his eyes at your silly statement.
“technically, wouldn’t you have that cat in you, doll face?” angel dust pipes up from his spot on the couch, a smirk on his face as you turn pink. husk looks at you with the same smirk as angel.
“now that’s more like it…”
❀ word count; 529
reblogs/hearts/comments and all that good stuff are appreciated !
audience; @crystalrayn @drxgonspine @alastorthirsty @speedycoffeedelight @alaskathestereodemoness
© heartfeltcherie
#heartfeltcherie's performances ꫂ ၴႅၴ#husk x you#husk x reader#husk fanfiction#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#husk imagine#husk fluff#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin fanfic#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin imagine#hazbin fluff
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The oneshot we were all expecting!!!!!! Or at least the one I so desperately wanted to write 🥹 I just adore our two little lovebirds in this setting—their first kiss and date ajkhgjkaghjkahgjkahsgjkashkgaskghaj ANYWAYS
warnings: highschool au. naoya is completely evangelized so don't expect his usual shenanigans. he's also somewhat of an obnoxious dork. fluff. also minimal proofreading (?)
Happy reading!!
[I’m almost there!! There was a small delay on the train, but I’m almost there I swear!! I’m sorry, please wait for me 🥺]
Naoya must’ve re-read your last message a thousand times, but far from making him angry, or even easing his anxiety… it just made him feel worse.
As if the seconds he spent waiting for you weren’t agonizing enough, now that he knew you were very close, he couldn’t help but worry about your reaction. If you’d approve of him, his itinerary for the day—
Or most importantly, his appearance.
Up to that point you had only seen him in his everyday boring jujutsu uniform, with a few exceptions of casual attire after class. Never situations where actual effort beyond the bare minimum was placed.
So naturally, he had to go all out on your first date with him.
Was it too much?
Maybe. Though some would argue this… style was expected of him. Expensive, borderline excessive, from head to toe black in brands many could only dream of affording—it was obvious that Naoya had money to spend, and he wanted the whole world to know.
Mostly you. Everyone else he really didn’t care for—he just wanted you to know what he was willing to do and provide for you. Nothing more, nothing less.
And such was his determination that he almost forgot another important matter, the one that ended up affecting him the most ultimately: his reaction to seeing you all dressed up for the date.
With a black short skirt alongside a beige oversized turtleneck, accompanied by black thighs that sparked something inside him… Naoya simply wanted to scoop you up and gush at your adorableness. He literally didn't think you capable of being any prettier, and yet, here you were, proving him wrong. Just like every day.
“I’m so sorry Naoya, I hope you weren’t waiting for too long!” you breathed, rushing to his side. Even if you had kept him waiting, all those silly trivialities disappeared the moment you stepped into his sight.
“You didn’t.” he lies, doing his best to contain the blushing mess settling on his face. “I just got here.”
“That’s not true.” You giggle. “You’ve always been punctual!”
Yes, that's true. And when it comes to you he was far worse; in fact, for today he had actually arrived three hours earlier just to make sure that all the places in his itinerary were still available.
Naoya had reservations anyways, but there’s always some fool...
“The same way you’re always pretty.”
Now it’s your turn to fluster; what a nice way to turn the tables.
“You’re not so bad yourself, boyfriend.”
Naoya smiles; he's been waiting so long to earn that title, and naturally, it's much sweeter than what he imagined.
“You ready to go?” he asks as he takes hold of your hand.
“Yeah!” you nod eagerly, squeezing him back. “Where are we going first? The aquarium?”
“Yes. Unless you’re hungry, princess. If so, we can get a bite.”
“No, I’m not hungry yet. But I guess we could get something to drink.” You suggest, already looking through your options.
“Whatever you want, and don’t hold back. Remember it’s all on me.”
Your heart fluttered at his words.
“Thank you.”
He smiles.
Naoya had previously scoured the area for nothing but the best coffee shops to give you the most amazing experience possible, nothing short of suitable for his little mochi…
Though his efforts would ultimately be for naught, since you’d take him towards a personal selection instead, initially a recommendation from one of your classmates, now your favorite spot.
But it wasn’t all bad as Naoya feared, in fact, it was much better than he anticipated; the pastries, while peculiar, were surprisingly tasty. Even for someone like him who wasn’t all too fond of sweets. Yet, what he liked the most was the cozy ambiance that set for an… intimate setting.
“You know, you’re awfully cute when you do that.” Naoya murmurs, a sly smile as he places his hand over yours, inching closer to you.
“When I do what?” you ponder curiously.
“Don’t act coy now, you know what I mean.”
“But I’m not… doing anything.” you frown.
“Is that so?” Naoya laughs.
“Don’t tease me…” you murmur. Your poor heart was already on the brink of bursting out of your chest by the happiness of being so close to him brought you—
You almost passed out once he got much, much closer to you, pressing his thumb at the left corner of your lips and wiping the remnants of your delicious tiramisu…
“Oh, Naoya—that’s—!” you covered your face with your hands. “Stop it! You’re just trying to embarrass me…!”
“Hmmm… really? How could I possibly do that?”
“You—you know what I mean! Don’t act like you don’t!”
Well, you’d better get used to this playful side of Naoya if you’re to be his girlfriend, for he doesn’t intend to stop anytime soon—though he briefly manages to stop when in the aquarium.
Yes, even for someone “cool” like him, the aquarium was quite enjoyable by itself, the kind of place he wouldn’t mind returning to later on again…
Especially if he gets to admire you gleefully observing the fishes, gushing at the ones you considered pretty, if not odd, while taking pictures of them.
There’s just… something about seeing you like this that makes his heart feel warmer, tighter, his feelings for you growing stronger the longer he stares at you, eventually leading him to the thought he’s plentifully considered before—but never brave enough to push for it.
But now… considering all this… he believes perhaps, it’s finally time for that.
Nonetheless, he’s yet to traverse his biggest obstacle, which is setting up everything for that to happen— if it was even meant to occur in the first place.
Just consider this: Naoya is intimidated by the notion of asking you for a picture, hiding his phone as soon as you turn around to face him.
“It’s—It’s nothing.” He stammers, looking away as he promptly shoves his phone down his pocket. “Just wanted to check something—I think I got a message or something...”
“You know… if you want a photo of me all you have to do is ask.” You suggest, moving closer to him and intertwining your arm with his, resting your head into his shoulder. To think that just a few moments ago the roles were reversed… Oh, how you adored Naoya. “Might even throw in a pose or two for my shy boyfriend.”
“I’m not shy.” Naoya frowns.
“No, of course not.” You giggle, standing on your toes and kissing his cheek. “Never.”
Once done with the aquarium, Naoya’s itinerary continued to the nearby mall, where he’d encourage you to buy something nice—or more like force you to do it yourself, since he was set on purchasing whatever he assumed you’d enjoy. So, if you don't want to end up with things you might not like, you better step up— before getting something to eat.
But while most of his plans were made with the purpose of distracting you, he won’t deny that he’s greatly benefiting from them too; because once he set his mind in achieving that today, Naoya turned into nothing less of an anxious mess, constantly wondering what he needed to do to achieve the same thing he’s been dreaming of since he’s set his eyes on you.
As well as trying to overcome the insecurities that came with it, what could ultimately ruin the small relationship he was starting to build with you.
What if you didn’t want to? What if you accepted this date to get to know more of him, deciding the best way to continue was by taking things even slower?
If so, he’d only ruin everything with his silly request!
But this—this isn’t anything new. A lot of couples have done it many times! And will continue to do so even after the two are no longer around.
«Don’t you think if this is something she wanted to do, she would’ve told you already?» Naoya cruelly scolds himself. «If I make this decision myself, I’ll only end up pushing her away—»
“Are you ok, Naoya?” you ask, having noticed how eerily silent he’s become since… a while ago, really. “You haven’t even tasted your ramen”
“Ah, yes— I’m fine.” He responds, wiping the sweat off his hands on his coat before looking at you. “I just remembered there’s an assignment I need to do.”
“Oh, is it urgent? We can head back if you—”
“What? No! Why would you suggest that?!” Naoya gasps, you blink. “I—I mean—I still want to spend more time with you in the city.”
You press your lips together.
“Are you sure it’s nothing? We can always go out another time…”
“No. I want today to be special, it’s our first date, after all.” You blush.
“Alright, I’ll believe you.” You say, smiling. “But only if you eat, if not, we’ll head back to the school!”
Maybe filling his stomach will ease his nerves, an empty stomach was never a good basis to make decisions on.
And yet, it simply made his uneasiness grow bigger, if not worse—like he could puke at the mere thought of disappointing you, even when you’ve consistently shown how happy you are with all that he’s done for you.
Or so that’s how you wished to feel, because it wouldn’t take long before you noticed Naoya’s… distance. His prolonged silence that begun just after leaving the aquarium—the now bane of your existence—completely different from when the day began.
You didn’t want to take this mishap and use it as fuel for your insecurities, but with nowhere else to go and no answers to obtain, it just happened. You simply… began to think that maybe, he didn’t like you as much as you hoped.
Perhaps you’ve come off too strong with him back then; or maybe you’re too weird for his liking, you shouldn’t have gotten too comfortable with him too early in the relationship—
Not that it mattered anyway, because you were absolutely sure he was now considering not being with you anymore.
Evidently, the two were going through quite the emotional turmoil; but it wasn’t until you realized that the time to return home was fast approaching that you decided to take the first step and end all confusions once and for all.
If the day was going to end like that, you might as well know why.
“Na—Naoya… did I do something to upset you?”
Naoya immediately blinks, snapped back to reality and startled by your bold accusation.
“No?? Where is this coming from??”
“I—I don’t know, I guess you… well, I just concluded that since you got all silent out of the sudden… it must’ve been because of me.” you quietly explained. “Because I disappointed you.”
“I hope to never hear that from you ever again.” Naoya frowns, his stern reaction making you further embarrassed, avoiding his gaze subsequently. He sighs. “Lool, Y/N… I didn’t mean it that way.”
“...Just tell me. What did you not like about me? What is something I did?”
“All you’ve ever done is be perfect, so no.”
“Then what is it?” you ask once more. “Is it the assignment you told me?”
“No, that’s not it. Not at all.” Naoya quickly responds.
“Then tell me, please.” you breathe, getting desperate at the lack of answer—for every denial felt as if the knife of his indifference twisted deeper and deeper into your heart. Inching you closer to the possibility of you being the cause of such distaste, he just didn’t want you to make a scene. “If it’s something I did—”
“Seriously, stop it already, Y/N!” Naoya gasps, immediately cupping your face and forcing you to see him. You try your best to avoid his gaze to befall your teary one, but ultimately you fail at his persistence. “What do I need to say to get through that stubborn little head of yours??”
“…The truth, I guess…” you sniffed, there’s no point holding back the tears forming in your eyes anymore if they were already soaking your cheeks. “...What changed?”
Naoya swallows, already feeling like shit by having made you cry—a sight he will never forget, nor will he allow to occur once again by his own merit—worse when his heart just kept pounding loudly and painfully against his chest, a combination of his uncertainty when approaching the topic, and regret for your reaction.
But even then, he wholeheartedly prefers to deal with his embarrassment, than his guilt for having hurt the woman of his dreams.
The faster he mends this, the quicker you’ll be back to the same bubbly girl he fell in love with. Or so, he hopes.
“The truth is… I’ve been thinking about something. About that.” Naoya begins, voice trembling as he looks at you.
“I don’t… follow.” you say.
He swallows once more.
“The reason why I’ve been quiet is because I want to do something with you.” He quickly adds, it’s obvious by the way he speaks that he’s very nervous, fearful that you might judge him afterwards. But only if he knew… “I want… to… kiss you.”
“O—Oh!” you gasp, and suddenly, everything seemed to make sense. “Naoya, is that why—”
“Ye—yeah. And I didn't know how to bring it up without making you uncomfortable.” Naoya explains. “That’s the reason why I kept quiet. I… I never meant to upset you.”
“I… I didn’t know you were—”
“I knew it was a stupid idea, I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? You probably haven’t even considering the idea—forget I said anything—”
“No, Naoya, don’t—don’t say that.” you say, pulling his attention back to you. “Because that’s not true.”
“What do you mean?”
“...I guess I mean to say I… I’ve also considered it. I have also been thinking about it, quite often too…” you confess, embarrassed. “I’d be lying if I said otherwise…”
“Y/N… you mean to say you also…”
“Y—yeah, I mean… who doesn’t want to kiss their boyfriend any chance they get?” you ask. “I just didn’t bring it up because… well, I wasn't sure if you wanted to.”
“It’s all I’ve been dreaming of.” He reveals as well, your heart quickens once again. “...Did you hope it would happen today?”
“M—Maybe!” you shriek. “It’s not too soon, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Naoya admits. “I think some might even say we’re running late.”
You frown. “Not that it should matter, it’s our relationship. Our decision—and I… choose to wait if you so desire.”
“I don’t want to wait anymore.” you say. “I… I want to kiss you.”
“Then let’s do it—” “But what if you don’t like it?” it’s your time to worry. “I… haven’t kissed anyone else so I don’t know what to do…”
Naoya blinks. Did he hear that right? But far from being inundated with that peculiar rush most got in a situation like this, he was greatly worried about making this a moment you’ll enjoy.
A moment he won’t ruin by his own inexperience.
“Am I to be your first?”
“I mean, I guess if you count that one time when I was 5…”
“I don’t like the thought of that.” Naoya frowns, jealous. You let out a breathy chuckle.
“It was a silly bet, Naoya. Didn’t mean anything.” But you still made the conscious decision to not tell him who it was—if this is how he got at the mere thought of someone else kissing you, you could only imagine what he’d do upon learning it was actually Satoru all along. “Not when I only want you.”
Naoya swallows, his heart skipping a beat.
“Then… what are we waiting for…?”
After a quick debate, the two end up settling for a small, nearby park to finally do what their heart’s desired, into a somewhat secluded eye where no one else would see them obnoxiously (but sweetly) try to kiss each other for the first time, yet intimate enough to persuade them into actually doing so.
Truth be told, the more you and Naoya realized how close you were to actually doing, the more… anxious you felt. To believe you were simply a few moments away from kissing your boyfriend for the first of many times… This might as well be your first kiss!
Might be Naoya’s too.
“N—now what?” you whisper, unsure how to proceed, fidgeting with his fingers.
“I—I guess we kiss.” He swallows, gently squeezing your hands. “Do I just… lean?”
“Ye—yeah.” You nod, cleaning up all the strands of hair that obstructed your face. “And I guess I’ll just… move to you.”
“Ok.” He nods, taking one last deep breath. “Then… let’s do it.”
…
…
…
“You said you would lean down, Naoya.”
“I can’t if you’re staring at me like that!”
“I’m—I’m not staring!” you cry back. “I’m just—I’m just being attentive!”
“Yes you are, you’re looking straight at me with those big eyes of yours!”
“Where am I supposed to look, then?! How am I supposed to know when to move??”
“Not me?? Close your eyes!”
“But what if you bump into me?!”
You’ve unknowingly awoken a fear within Naoya, as if the worry of your approval wasn’t enough.
“I’m not—I’m not going to bump into you.” He frowns. “Why would you even suggest something so silly… Do you know how weird you look staring right at me?”
You frown.
“…You didn’t have to be rude about it…” Naoya immediately regrets the way he spoke to you.
“No, princess, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says, cupping your face once more. “That was just my nerves talking.”
“…I’m nervous too.”
“I know, I know. But I still want this, more than anything in the world.” Naoya adds. “So please… trust me. I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”
You smile softly.
“You did.”
“Then just close your eyes and let me do everything else.”
“O—okay…” you nod, sighing before eventually closing your eyes, trying your best to relax and prepare for the fateful moment that would mark the beginning of this beautiful relationship.
Unaware of Naoya’s intent stares; it was almost ironic how he complained about your gaze when he was doing the very same thing now…
But he wasn’t exaggerating when stating he really wanted this. In fact, he probably wanted this much, much more than you. To finally be connected to someone that would appreciate him for who he was, not for what he represented…
Naoya never imagined a moment like this could ever happen with someone like him, like his family and it’s expectations.
Yet, it’s like he summoned you out of his thoughts and now, here you were, materialized before him and ready to give him all the love he deserved—through the adorable pout you were unwittingly doing, awaiting for his kiss, to the way you stood on your toes, your own way to help him out when he eventually leans down. Were you even aware of how adorable you were to him? If not, it just transformed his perception of you into something even lovelier.
«I won’t keep you waiting any longer» Naoya promises as he readjusted his gentle hold of your face, giving you one last smile before finally beginning to lean down towards you. Taking in your scent, your softness, your warmth…
Closing his eyes when just a few millimeters away from your lips, preparing to take in your affection, and then—
He kisses you.
Carefully and sweetly, his world is suddenly filled with color when his lips finally touch your soft ones, the very sensation he always imagined you’d have—no, this was much, much better than all he could conjure up.
It filled a void he’s been desperately craving to satisfy, the need to feel loved, cared for, needed—you gave him all that with just a simple gesture…
How could he not fall more in love with you? His life had become far more thrilling with you in it, and this was only the evidence of such.
And while it ended as a quick kiss, nothing short of inexperienced, found with some hesitance along the way… none of these things mattered in the bigger picture.
To you and Naoya, this was the official declaration of each other’s love, leaning deeper into each other’s embrace once eventually separated.
“S—so…? How—How was it?” you ask, doing your best to push down your heart from coming out your throat as you glanced up to him. “Was—was it… good?”
“Ye—yeah.” Naoya quietly admits, resting his head alongside yours. “It… tasted like ramen.”
“You—stop it! Be serious!” you fret, already a nervous mess when asking for his opinion, his comment simply made it worse!
But naturally, he was only making a slight jest of the moment, his instinctive reaction to trying to ease his jumping heart from bursting out of his chest, as you’d come to notice when placing your ear next to it—it’s the first time you’ve ever heard such quickness coming from him… enough evidence to know he enjoyed it, much to your delight.
“I like it.” he confesses, you smile, leaning deeper into his chest. “It was… much, much better than I expected.”
“I can hear that.” you giggle, hugging him tightly. “... I liked it very much too.”
“Enough to kiss me again?” he teases once more, you blush.
“I don’t know if my poor heart can take it.” you jest back. “My ears are ringing too.”
“Well, you know what they say—the more you keep doing something, the more comfortable you feel with it.” Naoya implicitly suggests.
“Are you saying…”
He nods. “...but only if you want… please.”
You grin.
After such a lovely date, and with so sweetly that he asked…
You had no other option. Not that you’d have many once Naoya grew confident enough to kiss you over and over again later on, if anything, you’d soon find yourself begging him to give you a second to breathe. It would be a miracle if he even gave you a chance to speak in between kisses!
But oh, who are you kidding? Deep within, you knew you enjoyed it, always looking forward to the moment the love of your life would come rushing to steal all your kisses away, you’d probably won’t have any to share by the end of the year!
And you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“By the way, princess. Why didn’t you want me to pick you up? It was nothing, you know? I could’ve easily gone to your house and done so.”
“Well, because I didn’t want to inconvenience you.” you say, he frowns. “I know, you just said it wouldn’t. But I also felt like taking the public transport, I haven’t used it since we got out on holiday.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with you taking the public transport, it’s… unbefitting for someone like you.”
“The public transport isn’t that bad, first of all.” You say, tightly holding his hand as the two headed towards the nearest station, time to head back home unless you wished to deal with an angry father. “...But if you really want to know… I didn’t ask you to pick me up because I didn’t want your motorcycle ruining my outfit.”
“Ruinning your outfit—really? Is that all?” He chuckles.
“Hey, don’t judge me! And besides, you should know too! You’re quite cautious too, to put it one day.”
“I wasn't going to pick you up with the motorcycle, I have cars too, you know?”
“...A car?” you blink. “You have a car too??”
“Cars. Plural.” Naoya explains proudly. “I just choose whichever matches with what I’m wearing.”
“Naoya, I knew you had money, but that’s just ridiculous!”
“It’s our money now, actually.” He says. “All that is mine is yours; so technically the cars are yours too.”
“No Naoya, oh my god.” you gasp. “I can’t—I can’t accept that! Just what did I get myself into?!”
“Hmmm, I don’t know, I guess the best time of your life?”
You blush.
“That would be one way to put it, I guess.” You frown, making him laugh and subsequently press a kiss on your cheek, on your lips…
“As long as you’re with me, you’ll always have what you need.” He swears, pressing one last kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want, I’ll make sure you have it. And I won’t stop at any limit to achieve so.”
Whether he referred to love, or monetary possessions, both guided you to the same conclusion:
“I know.”
NGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Nothing was ever the same after that point; 🥺 I just... well, I hoped you liked it!! I wanted this to be as sweet and somewhat awkward as possible lol they're teenagers, after all; but not enough to ruin the experience. I hope I managed to convey that 🥹
Luckily I have another version of their first kiss so if you don't particularly enjoy this, there's always another 😏 but i'll get to that one eventually.
Now, take care, and hope you have a wonderful day!!
#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
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If all the Atsushi’s in my fics met:
Beast Atsushi (Demonic Rescue): Yeah so me and Kyouka showed up and saved the Agency.
Atsushi (Tangled up): This Kyouka girl sounds really cool. I wonder if there’s a Kyouka in my world, I hope I get to meet her.
Atsushi (To be Burned): I hope so too. She’s the best I don’t know what I’d do without her.
Atsushi (Hold On): I hope you never have too…
Atsushi (To be Burned) What was that?
Atsushi (Hold On): Nothing.
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): Okay… I’m surprised the Boss had you help the Agency though.
Beast Atsushi (Demonic Rescue): Yeah well we had to make some changes after the last Boss died.
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): Your Boss died too? Who took his place?
Beast Atsushi (Demonic Rescue): Chuuya Nakahara, who else?
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): Ah that makes sense.
Beast Atsushi (Words of a Reaper): Hold up, what do you mean the Boss died?!
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): Yours didn’t?
Beast Atsushi (Words of a Reaper): Well it was the plan but I shut that shit down. With some help from Chuuya of course.
Beast Atsushi (Demonic Rescue): Woah. Hey wait, if Chuuya doesn’t become the Boss for you who does?
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): I’m the Boss. I was his apprentice and…it’s a long story.
Beast Atsushi (Demonic Rescue): Sounds like it.
Atsushi (Tangled Up): Man I should’ve overthrown the Boss when he locked me down in that cage.
Beast Atsushi (Words of a Reaper): Dazai locked you in a cage?
Atsushi (Tangled Up) Oh no not him. My old man, he was the last Boss it’s a whole thing. But I got imprisoned and Dazai found me and said he was gonna get me out.
Atsushi (Twilights Embrace): Trust him on that he will. He saved me when I thought I had nothing left to fight for.
Atsushi (You don’t know) Yeah, he saved me from my cage too.
Atsushi (Scattered Pages): He saved you from the Headmaster?
Atsushi (You don’t know): No, see I made a deal with Fyodor and then betrayed him. To save my friends of course. It worked but I did almost die.
Atsushi (Twilight’s Embrace) Wow I almost died because of Fyodor too.
Atsushi (Scattered Pages): I’m glad you both survived.
Atsushi (Red and White): That’s our friends…always there to save us but we can never save them.
Atsushi (Scattered Pages): Ain’t that the truth. But things work out, in their own way.
Atsushi (To be burned): Yeah I mean I had…a rough time but it’s why I’m able to save people. So they aren’t hurt like I was.
Atsushi (Red and White): That doesn’t mean you’ll succeed.
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King): Okay we lost the Boss. He lost his Boss who was also his father-
Atsushi (Scattered Pages): Same here, but my dad was Odasuku.
Beast Atsushi (The Fallen King):…I have so many questions. But anyway, they lost their father and he lost Kyouka. Who did you lose?
Atsushi (Red and White): Everyone.
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