#hey speaking of my chapter titles

[bleaksqueak]

Solivaga - Chapter 3 cover & Alt variant

[httpsserene]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩 | 𝐦𝐯. 𝟏

summary: an unplanned hard launch reveals more than a relationship. it exposes the biggest simp of the century.

content warning: requested by @animeandf1lover. fluff. crack adjacent (in the beginning). profanity. bestfriend!logan sargeant. boyfriend!max verstappen. humor. max yap-stappen. jimmy and sassy verstappen. my personal hc of max using cat emojis unironically. no part two requests, please!

pairing: max verstappen x hijabi fem!poc!reader (fc: shahdbatal)

genre: smau.

from, serene: other titles i thought of; simp, i love my gf, down bad, lord of the simps, or president of the simp club. haven't written for max alone in a while, i missed him !!! pls ignore the typos on the interview clips otherwise i will cry. enjoy, lovely’s xxx

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

instagram • jimmyandsassy 🔒 • monte carlo ⚑

liked by yninsta, maxverstappen1, logansargeant, and 123 others

jimmyandsassy love life

view comments

maxverstappen1: how are you going to caption this "love life" when there's not a single photo of me in it 😕

➥ maxverstappen1: you called me the love of your life this morning on ft 😔 ➥ maxverstappen1: omg are you breaking up with me and taking the cats with you 😭😭😭 ➥ yninsta: max the cats chose the caption not me!!! ➥ yninsta: you're still the loml baby, i'm not going anywhere 😚💙 ➥ danielricciardo: u guys are perfectly made for each other :)

maxverstappen1: my babies 😻 why did you put mommy on the last slide? she's too pretty to be there!

➥ jimmyandsassy: m prettier than mommy - sassy ➥ maxverstappen1: hey! you get your looks from your mother be nice 😠 ➥ charlesleclerc: max mate 😟 with every comment you make on this account i hope you know i think less of you with each one 🙏🏻 ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: he's only saying this because i told him it would be cute to make a priv acct with leo that's like this! ➥ yninsta: you should! the kitties love it :) ➥ charlesleclerc: you're all mentally disturbed. electric chair⚡️🪑

logansargeant: i have post notifications on and i have no clue how max gets here faster than me.

➥ logansargeant: jimmy? sassy? do you tell him when you're about to post 🧐 ➥ maxverstappen1: logan the cats can't speak english or use a phone be serious. ➥ logansargeant: THEY DON'T HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS EITHER BUT THEY STILL POST AND REPLY TO COMMENTS ➥ jimmyandsassy: don't yell at daddy! 's mean - jimmy ➥ maxverstappen1: yeah logan don't yell at daddy 😌 ➥ logansargeant: can't believe there was a time i thought you were a respectable man smh

roscoelovecoco: cool cats 🐈

➥ jimmyandsassy: big dawg 🐶

landonorris: they're so pretty i just wanna pet them

➥ landonorris: i wished cats liked me,,, ➥ jimmyandsassy: nobody likes you! hope this helps - sassy ➥ landonorris: STOP HIDING BEHIND YOUR CATS AND COME FIGHT ME SIS 🤬🤺

alexalbon: please don't kill me :)

➥ jimmyandsassy: why would we kill you? we like alex - jimmy ➥ oscarpiastri: oh they're so going to claw your eyes out mate 😂 ➥ georgerussell63: it's been nice knowing you alex 🙂 ➥ charlesleclerc: fly high alexander 🕊️🙏🏻 ➥ schecoperez: gone too soon 🙂‍↔️ ➥ jensonbutton: if she kills you, logan will have a car to race this weekend. she's so going to get rid of you 😈 ➥ yninsta: what. logan has his own williams? are u guys okay???

twitter • yn's spam twt

igstory • yninsta uploaded to close friends story!

[caption1; guess i'm bringing jimmy with me][caption2; target confirmed. bravo six going dark.]

logansargeant: please don't make my team principal disappear ⤷yninsta: i will make him suffer inshallah 🙏🏽 ⤷logansargeant: think about jimmy and sassy! they'll miss you 😢 ⤷yninsta: ,,,i will subject him to a painful lecture about his mishandling of the race weekend ⤷yninsta: instead of death 🙃

alexalbon: are we chill? ⤷yninsta: i have no quarrel with you 👍🏽 ⤷alexalbon: oh thank god. i was going crazy in my room hiding from you 😮‍💨

maxverstappen1: come to me when you're done with james 😽 ⤷maxverstappen1: you're surrounded by the wrong shade of blue :( ⤷maxverstappen1: how's logan doing? ⤷yninsta: he's okay considering they gave his car away. ⤷maxverstappen1: bring him with you, i will tell him exactly what i think about wiliams treating him that way

f1 twitter

FIA press conference: pre-race australia • max, charles, logan, zhou, yuki

post-race interview clips • max verstappen

twitter • the internet reacts

instagram • logansargeant • melbourne ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, yninsta, redbullracing and 546,789 others

logansargeant me and you, and you and me, just us, and your boyfriend max.

tagged: yninsta, maxverstappen1, betterhelp

view comments

maxverstappen1: you have me saved as “yn’s boyfriend - INGORE 🛑❌🙈”

➥ maxverstappen1: that’s not very nice ☹️ ➥ yninsta: logan! change it before you make him sad ➥ logansargeant: fine 🙄 ➥ logansargeant: i’m going to mute him instead.

➥ yninsta: logan and max get along great guys i promise!

➥ yninsta: max asked him if he was okay with asking me out before our first date and logan said “mate you don’t have to ask, i know you’ll treat her right” 😇 ➥ logansargeant: that is NOT public info‼️ delete pls ➥ maxverstappen1: you didn’t have to say any of this schatje 😅 ➥ user1: max asked logan for permission to date her? what in the wattpad fanfic is happening rn ➥ georgerussell63: this is great blackmail- i mean info 😉

oscarpiastri: acting like you hate max but you called me screaming in joy about playing padel with him 💀

➥ logansargeant: oscar please. my reputation is at stake here 😀 ➥ oscarpiastri: hey instagram comments- i misspoke. logan sargeant HATES max verstappen! that’s all, thanks. ➥ user2: dis guy 🤦🏻‍♀️ ➥ user3: osc sarcasm check: ✅

user4: if max verstappen offered to fly me out to hang out with his gf i would not leave his messages on read ijs 🤷🏼

alexalbon: DAMN he even said please 😶

➥ yninsta: not too much now alex 🤫 ➥ alexalbon: 🤐😳 ➥ user5: alex were u silent or sileNCED ➥ user6: i could feel the threat through the screen

jensonbutton: but did you take him up on his offer? that’s what we need to know!

➥ maxverstappen1: he did. left me on read for 6 minutes before he broke 😹 ➥ logansargeant: it was on his private jet, paid for, and i got to see my best friend- ofc i said yes! i’m not stupid.

user7: tagging betterhelp on the sc of max’s desperate ass texts is NASTY work logan 💀💀💀

➥ user8: nothing wrong with sending the homies links to therapy sites ➥ user9: there’s definitely something wrong with how down bad max is for his girl. i know that much 🥴 ➥ user10: are u srs? bc that’s a man who doesn’t play about his woman! i can tell 😵‍💫🫦

instagram • maxverstappen1

liked by yninsta, redbullracing, danielricciardo and 2,126,989 others

maxverstappen1 championships are worth winning because i take the trophies back to her.

tagged: yninsta

view comments

yninsta: championships are worth winning because YOU drove like crazy for them.

➥ maxverstappen1: two things can be true at the same time 💙 ➥ maxverstappen1: i don’t know if they would matter as much if i didn’t have anyone to praise me for it. ➥ yninsta: i’ll convince you that they are more than that one day 💙🔒 (good thing i’m never leaving you x)

yninsta: حب حياتي (the love of my life)

➥ maxverstappen1: no you are mine ☺️🤭

user11: no the fuck he didn’t.

➥ user12: GIRL HE FUCKING DID

user13: nahhhh he got it. he got it all.

➥ user13: championships, monaco living, the finest woman, expensive cats and cars—LIKE LEAVE SOMETHING FOR THE COMMON FOLK MAX ➥ maxverstappen1: my bad 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user14: he don’t even mean ts ➥ user15: oh i’m bout to crash out 🤪🤬👹

charlesleclerc: okay. that’s a good caption 🙂

➥ maxverstappen1: take a deep breath charlie, no need to be angy about it :) ➥ charlesleclerc: i knew you’d ruin it. i’ll be seeing you max 🤫 ➥ user16: yo what tf 🤣 ➥ user17: did charles leclerc just ominously imply his plot for max’s demise?! ➥ user18: bro what 😒 @/user17 ➥ user19: what are you gonna say next? “they’re going to participate in a duel of arms 🤓” ➥ user16: “a battle of fisticuffs, more likely it seems 🤓🤓🤓”

user20: oh my days— she’s beautiful 😦

➥ maxverstappen1: she’s the prettiest woman i’ve ever set my eyes on 😊 ➥ user21: don’t worry max, we believe you! ➥ user22: you truly are blessed to be dating her.

danielricciardo: boys what are you’re wagers? max yaps more/less about his gf to us now that they’re public?

➥ landonorris: more +£500 ➥ lewishamilton: more +£1000 ➥ logansargeant: more +(i’ll match lewis in american) ➥ schecoperez: have faith in max! ➥ schecoperez: +5 grand take it or leave it.

user23: she’s majestic! in that first photo, she’s giving padme from star wars 🤩 beautiful!!!!

➥ yninsta: tysm ☺️ this might be the best compliment i’ve ever received !!!

instagram • ynspamacct

liked by maxverstappen, lilymhe, charlesleclerc and 893,430 others

ynspamacct i won't unprivate my main, but here's the bf max content i know you all want :)

tagged: maxverstappen1

view comments

user24: max said: princess treatment only 👏🏻

➥ maxverstappen1: ***queen treatment 👸🏽 ➥ user25: oh. the simp allegations are true. ➥ maxverstappen1: you doubted how much i love my gf? crazy. ➥ user25: i won't do it again, i promise.

logansargeant: why do you wear heels if you know they’re going to make your feet hurt?

➥ maxverstappen1: bc she’s knows i’m going to hold them for her and carry her home 😌 ➥ ynspamacct: bc i feel tall 🥺 and max doesn’t mind carrying me home !!! ➥ ynspamacct: oops ☺️ we must’ve replied at the same time hahaaa user26: i’m going to slam my head into the nearest wall, viciously. ➥ ynspamacct: don’t do that! life is worth living i promise 😰

user26: first photo made my tummy flip for some reason 🫦🥴🤤

➥ ynspamacct: you should see a doctor! that doesn’t sound healthy :) ➥ user27: u better stop thirsting over her man like that 😳

lilymhe: boundaries 🧘🏻‍♀️💆🏻‍♀️

ynspamacct: exactly 😌

user27: breakfast in bed…what did he want from you 🤔

➥ ynspamacct: …nothing? or, just quality time i guess! he’s sweet like that 🥰 user27: ,,,i didn’t know that was an option. ➥ ynspamacct: being treated like a queen comes with accepting that’s how you deserve to be treated, and that it’s the *only* way you’re going to be treated 😚 ➥ user28: SPEAK ON IT MY GOOD SIS 😫

user29: this relationship is dear to me 😪

user30: m-men aren’t shit? who knew that was possible.

➥ user31: i thought all we had was tom holland 💀 ➥ maxverstappen1: i’m honored to be added to the roster ➥ user32: i cannot take this man seriously now. ➥ user33: why bc he loves his gf and you can’t even seem to find the way to a shower or a therapy session 😀 ➥ user34: WOAH VIOLATION

yninsta: max, maxie-max, maxie !!!

➥ maxverstappen1: i love you most, schatje 💛🔒 ➥ yninsta: aw you beat me to it 😞 ➥ yninsta: i love you foreverrrr #1 💙🔒 ➥ user35: oh i’m gonna cry :)

© httpsserene 2024 - most photos from pinterest and edited by me. fc is shahdbatal.

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →

summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[writing-fanics]

[title wip]

[warning: mentions of cheating: abandoned]

[sneak peek of the idea I had of Lucifer cheating on and abandoning his wife without knowing she was pregnant]

“It’s been awhile,” she gripped her desk, her nails digging into the wood. She breathed in and kept her head down, “Sure has..” Her voice cold, and distant harsh. “Y-You, look great.” He stammered nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes, and scoffed. “Why’re you here?” She asked, finally lifting her head to look at him. He pursed his lips, and he saw it the years of grief and pain he dumped on her when he left her for Lilith.

“I-I wanted to see you?” He said, and she scoffed in response. “Lies.” She said, and glared at him.

“Why’re you really here?” She asked, looking at him coldly. He cleared his throat and looked at her, “U-Um, it’s my daughter she wants a meeting with Heaven.” He said, and she looked at him raising her eyebrow.

“B-But, I did also really wanna see you.” He said, nervously and she rolled her eyes. “Your daughter, wants a meeting with Heaven?” She asked curiously.

“It’s this project she has this dream,” he stammered.

“Hm, she must get it from you.” She said, and he smiled nervously looking at his ex wife.

“I’ll bring the matter to the older Seraphims,” she said, and he smiled letting out a sigh of relief.

“T-Thank you, just hear her out please.” He said, even though he got her the meeting he was nervous. Scared that his daughter, would end up like him. His dreams crushed by Heaven.

He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her ring anymore. Even though they didn’t officially get divorced, it’s been over ten thousands years since he left her.

His eyes wandered around the room, and landed on a framed photograph. A young man, with golden hair and blue eyes, who looked an awfully a lot like how he did before he was banished to hell. Damien Lightbringer, my light, when all I could see was dark.

He opened his mouth to speak, “You can go now,” She said, before he had time to ask. He raised his finger opening his mouth, “who’s Damien?” She glared at him, her grip tightening around her pen almost breaking it in two.

“Why would you care? You abandoned us?” She snarled, gritting her teeth. Lucifer stood there confused for a moment, as what she said sank in.

“Us?” He mumbled, and she just sighed shaking her head. “The last name isn’t that obvious?” She asked, sarcastically.

Lightbringer - Morningstar?

“Hey, mom I-” Damien entered the room, and froze standing in the doorway. His eyes turned towards his mother who looked at him, sympathetically. As his gaze drifted towards, Lucifer. Damien stared at him with disgust before turning his attention back towards his mother.

Still working on this but eventually she tells him that he’s his son..

Damien hates Lucifer like really hates him.. but if I make multiple chapters will eventually try to fix their relationship or it might just be too late

Not me planning on possibly killing off the son. driving a deeper wedge into Lucifer trying to hopefully fix his relationship with his ex

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Three

masterlist

your eyes stayed focus on how the lights flashed. you knew he was undergoing stress, risking himself to change back to his human form due to professor sato teaching you. you cleared your throat, causing ultraman and the robot known as mina to face you.

"uhm- so i know i'm a complete stranger but i want to clarify that i mean no harm to you, as a hero and to your personal life. i'm willing to offer my assistance to help with the baby kaiju as well since i am technically apart of this mess." you said internally twiddling your thumbs at the stress.

you took a deep breath to keep yourself calm, not wanting to change back to human without your personal desire. "how could you even help?" he asked staring you down.

you went to speak up, before the baby kaiju reached out to you. you pulled them into your grasp, cradling them into your hands. "i can take care of it. i have more experience with taking care of babies when i would help others, and this shouldn't be that different or hard to figure out." you said, rubbing its back as it cooed at you.

before ken could respond, he was cut off by the mina talking. "it is true. it appears to have imprinted onto the both of you. you will both have to play the role of parents to nurture her."

he froze in shock at what she had just said. "no no no, are you saying that?" "yes, she thinks that you're both her mother and father." the baby kaiju reached out to him, trying to get into his hold at the same time, to which he took her into his hands.

"ah! no! i am not built for this! ive got a life. a title to win! you do something nice and now i'm babysitting a giant pink lizard thing!" he froze, almost like he was thinking of an idea. and he was. "we've gotta get it out of here." he said quietly. you chucked at him.

"what?? what's so funny to you?" he asked internally panicking. "i'm laughing cause you brought her here and don't want to admit responsibility. besides, your not doing this alone. i'm free to take care of her for you." you said taking the baby kaiju into your arms.

"but i don't even know you? you don't even know me! we can't have her here, we need to take her somewhere else!" his voice rose with concern as he stared at the baby kaiju that you cuddled into your body.

"and where would you suggest we take her?" mina asked as you raised your eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. he strained himself for an idea, causing him to flash red and blue all over again. "oh! we'll take her to kaiju island." he said proud of the idea.

"unfortunately, no one knows where kaiju island is. neither your parents or the KDF were ever able to locate the island." mina spoke. ultramans light began to flash faster as a whirring sound sounded from him. he quickly looked at you. the worry on his face clear as day at the idea of someone knowing his secret identity only adding onto his stress.

"it would be very bad if you were to change right now." mina spoke up. a light flashed in the room as where ultraman sat was now gone. you moved with haste, gently placing the kaiju on the floor.

knowing that his identity would now be revealed, even though you already knew it, you quickly changed back into your human form. the best way to have him trust you was to trust him yourself with who you are.

landing softly on the floor, you stretched your limbs to release some tension. you moved to stare at his now limp body that twitched from the impact of his fall.

you snickered a laugh as you crouched down to his level. "hey, you better get up. i don't think it's time for you to die yet. ain't that right, ken sato?" his body froze at his real name being said, making him look up at you quickly with fear on his face.

ken stood up, he stammered for words to say. any thing he would've say was cut off at the sound of footsteps. loud footsteps. the baby kaiju, now bigger than the both of you, stood staring at you with curiosity.

he nervously chuckled at her. "hi." ken waved at her softly with a sideways smile. you both froze in fear of her reaction. and with good reason. her adorable beady eyes watered up as she released a cry. the baby kaiju cried as a sonic beam hit a wall with cars hanging from it. the car fell to the ground with a crash as they broke.

you both jumped out of the way screaming for your lives. kenji stood up holding his face in fear at his cars being ruined. "what the heck is that!?" he yelled. "she's scared of the both of you." mina responded as you both ran with the baby kaiju chasing after you. "scared of us?! she's twenty feet tall!" you yelled as you ran for your life, scared of being hurt, as ken nodded his head quickly.

"she doesn't know you both! she only knows ultraman and the ultragirl!" you both ran faster as the baby kaiju got closer, shoot more sonic beams as you ducked your heads. "mina! containment unit!" kenji commanded. "which one?"

"the biggest one!!" you both yelled at the same time as you felt your feet become heavier from the running. suddenly silence filled the room as you both slowed down. you turned around to see a hole in the floor. something rose from the ground, showing the baby kaiju in a glass containment unit, her eyes watery from fear.

her cute clawed hands tapped at the glass as she whined. you couldn't help but frown at her sad expression. "oh poor baby." you softly said to yourself. you turned to see ken crouching down, his hands on his knees as he slowly caught his breath.

"ken, there really is only one person who could help." mina suggested. "no no no, you did not just suggest—" his yelling was cut off by mina. "sorry ken, i already called." you giggled at mina's actions, finding it funny how she didn't care what ken had to say.

a screen popped up in front of you both, your eyes landing on professor sato who had his face too close to the camera. "kenji? it's your father! are you there? hello?" you frowned seeing his desperation to talk to him.

professor sato had told you about their strained relationship, but even then, you could see he missed him by the way he watched his games and cheered for him, even if his own son hated him for their past.

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you slowly traced behind kenji as he headed towards the door. you stayed silent, noticing his discomfort in you even being here and now knowing who he was. you were still a total stranger to him, he didn't even know your name. the total haste of the situation prevented you from introducing yourself.

he opened the door, your eyes noticing how it rained outside. you couldn't see professor sato since kenji blocked the view with his bodybut you knew he was there from hearing his voice.

"kenji!" his voice was hushed but filled with worry. "dad! hey hey, what's up? how about that game tonight?" kenji responded quickly, his voice was high but filled with fake pleasantries. "oh thank god. you're okay?"

"yeah you know, i'm uh good. it was a tough battle. i'm a little sore. still recovering but—" kenji stopped talking when a screech came from downstairs. "what was that?" kenji froze and jumbled his words trying to come up with an excuse. "uh y'know it's a—" you snickered at his attempts and decided to help him out.

"it was me! i accidentally hit a chair and it scratched the floor badly." you pushed kenji out of the way, cracking the door open more for professor sato to see you. his face morphed into one of relief.

"y/n! i was worried about you since i hadn't heard anything from you after the crash. are you okay?" you gave him a soft smile. "i'm okay professor. kenji here was taking care of me so don't worry." you said hitting his arm playfully.

kenji froze at the interaction between you and his dad. 'how did you know each other? did he teach you? why was his father closer with you then him? why?' he shook his thoughts away, adding onto your words to make your story believable. "yeah, we were having a party." the yellow lights behind the both of you changed to colorful flashing lights as he bobbed his side to side to the music that played.

you internally smacked your head knowing how professor sato would react. you knew how he felt about the kaijus, how he held some type of respect for the creatures that terrorized japan and the power that they carried.

"the most magnificent creature on earth has died. the last of it's kind. and you both are throwing a party!?" his voice rose with disappointment as he stared at the both of you. you never felt any anger from professor sato ever directed at you before so to see him accuse you as well, it hurt. it dearly hurt.

but kenji took it worse. his eyes sharpened at he stared, for a moment he could only see rage at the insensitivity of his father for his well-being, especially after being caught in an explosion while battling gigantron.

"that magnificent creature nearly took my head off, dad. both of ours," he pointed a finger at you, "i haven't seen you in twenty years. you chose this city and literal monsters over us!" ken's voice rose with anger as he walked up to his dad making him only move backwards with him. "no-" a broken sound left professor sato's mouth.

"then you get hurt, can't hack it anymore, and i get to come back and clean up the mess you made as ♪ da, da, da, daa ♪ ultraman! which i only did because mom begged me to! and you're more worried about the monster. and not only that, but i come back to find that you've been playing dad for someone else."

kenji's head snaps towards you with an angry look. you could only stay silent at the scene before you. you knew it wasn't your place to speak. you so badly wanted to say something. but you only knew so much and saying something would make it worse. you could only look down as kenji snarled and looked back at his dad.

"classic." professor sato stared back at him, his eyes watery, as his eyebrows furrowed in pain. "no- i only wanted to... protect you." "but you didn't. you didn't even pay attention." his voice broke at the confrontation as his dads features went down from hurt.

kenji turned around and looked at you. "go inside. we still need to talk and i'm going to need some answers." his voice was stern. you nodded your head and went inside. you knew you owed him an explanation. how could he not want one when he just found out a total stranger was being taught by his own dad.

you turned around and went inside, walking past the kitchen and living room to the metal door that led to the underwater lair. you eyes landed on the baby kaiju that sat in the containment unit, where mina hovered around her.

"hello. is ken still outside?" mina asked you. "he is. he told me to come inside, saying that he still wanted to talk." you responded back to her. "very well, follow me."

mina began to float away, to which you began to follow after her. you both ended up in a small room that had a giant tv and a couch in front of it. "take a seat. i will let you know when ken is back to talk." you nodded your head as she flew away, not before turning the tv on to a random show to keep you busy with.

it wasn't long before you heard footsteps walking towards the direction of the room you were left in. you looked up the see the owner of the footsteps. ken stared at you from the doorway of the room. "okay. let's talk."

-

taglist: @ilovemyhusbandaaravos

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter six

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

When Eddie lets you down, you find comfort elsewhere.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), accidental creampie, angst

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N:

Happy New Year and happy Wildflower update day! 🥳 I hope you enjoy!

—

Your days at the diner were never interesting. The most action you ever saw was the occasional rude customer you got to throw out. But it wasn’t often (anymore, at least) that Corroded Coffin came in to eat.

Thankfully the restaurant was pretty dead when they came in, but the customers that were there jumped up, asking for autographs the second the four boys walked in the door. The guys were polite, quickly signing some napkins and menus before excusing themselves.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Eddie greeted as he slid into a booth in your section, Gareth, Jeff, and Doug following.

“Hey mama, long time no see,” Gareth said, a knowing look on his face. Eddie kicked him under the table, Gareth hissing a quiet Ow!

You blushed deeply as you handed them each a menu. “You told them?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie said, giving the other boys a look that said please don’t say anything stupid. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured him quickly. “He’s…your son, too.”

The words struck Eddie unexpectedly deep, filling him with a sense of warmth and love. He smiled, the confirmation bringing him a sense of pride. “Hey, I was thinking I could come by tonight after you get off? Hang out with you both for a little while?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” you said, smiling at Eddie like he was the only person in the room. “He’d like that. He’s been asking about Ebbie since you left.”

Eddie chuckled. It was definitely cute, and he loved that Asher had been thinking about him, but he couldn’t help but wonder when the title of Dad would be earned. He wanted to be Dad. He wanted Asher to be a Munson. “I’ve missed him too.”

You were happy to hear that. You wanted Eddie and Asher to have a relationship. You never thought the day would come, but now that it had, you realized this was what you had been longing for all along.

“What can I get you guys today?” You asked, pulling out your notepad and pen with your usual customer service smile.

Eddie held his hand up, indicating he wanted to speak first. “Well, are you on the menu?”

The guys at the table all groaned as you rolled your eyes, a blush on your cheeks as you raised a hand to cover the embarrassed smile on your lips. “Oh my god. You did not just say that.”

Eddie didn’t falter. “I mean, all this food looks delicious, but you look better.”

You smacked his arm lightly with the pad of paper. “Eddie Munson!”

The guys all busted out laughing, causing you to join in. Eddie blushed, but never took his eyes off of you.

Eventually, you got orders from all the boys. They ordered practically the whole menu between them, burgers and fries and chicken tenders and just about everything else, including the desserts.

“Okay guys, let me just put this in and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

As you turned and walked away, Eddie watched you. He watched the sway of your hips as you walked, the way your hair hung just right on your shoulders. He watched the way your little uniform dress hugged your curves and showed off your legs. He didn’t think he had a thing for housewives, but the apron was certainly doing something for him.

Gareth snapped him out of his thoughts by literally snapping in his face. “Uh, hello. Earth to Eddie.”

Eddie turned to look at the guys, who were all staring at him. “What?”

Gareth sat back in his seat. “So, what made you not call her for two years? Because you look like you’re about to pounce on her at any second.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to talk about this right now, or ever again, really. He knew how badly he fucked up. He had heard it from everyone endlessly, especially himself. “Gar-“

“Yeah, man, did you need to see her again to remember how hot she is?” Jeff asked with a laugh. “I mean, she always was-“

Eddie smacked a hand down on the table, startling the other guys. “Enough. Don’t talk about her like that.”

It was quiet for a second, then his three bandmates all started laughing.

“Oh, Eddie, man,” Doug said through his laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

As you turned around with the four drinks on your tray, you saw the boys laughing. You couldn’t help the old high school fear that they were laughing at you.

But Eddie also seemed perfectly happy in his new life without you. You wondered if he missed you at all. If he ever thought about you on the road. If he slept with other women.

You reached the table and placed the drinks down, remembering perfectly who had ordered what. “Can I help you guys with anything else right now?” You asked, waitress persona back in place.

“I think we’re good for now,” Gareth answered. You looked at Eddie, but his cheerful expression from earlier was now gone.

“Alright, just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be back with your food shortly.”

Once the lunch rush hit, the diner was packed. Your section was full and you were kept much too busy to worry much about the Corroded Coffin boys, although you did feel bad that their meal kept getting interrupted by over eager fans.

Eventually, you noticed the guys had left. You moved over to their table to clear it off, gathering plates and dishes.

You gasped when you saw the $200 tip that was left for you.

—

“Ebbie coming?” Asher asked for about the millionth time that evening.

“He’s supposed to, buddy,” you told him, fingers tracing through his curls as you eyed the clock again. It was almost bedtime for Asher, and Eddie still hadn’t showed. He was supposed to be here hours ago.

“When?” He asked again.

“I don’t know, Ash,” you admitted, looking down at his big sad brown eyes that reminded you so much of his father’s. “It’s almost bedtime, though. Maybe Eddie will come visit tomorrow?”

“No!” The toddler stamped his foot down, tears welling in his eyes as he looked up at you with all his nearly 2-year-old anger. “No bed! Ebbie.”

Your heart broke for him. You wished you had let it be a surprise, because giving him this hope and then having to take it away was too much. His dad had just come into his life and he was already being unreliable. It made you question the whole thing all over again.

“I’m sorry buddy,” you told him again. “We’ll do something fun tomorrow. Let’s go take a bath and get in your pajamas, huh?”

Reluctantly, the little boy went with you. You ran his bath, playing with him in the water which had him giggling again. You were happy to see him happy, but the ache in your chest over Eddie’s no-show wouldn’t be forgotten.

By the time his bath was over and Asher was dried off and dressed in his Thomas pajamas, he was rubbing his eyes. You tucked him into bed, read him some of his favorite books, and he was already drifting off as you left the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You covered your face with your hands as the tears began to fall. You felt like you had let Asher down yourself, and that’s something you never wanted to do. Something you swore you wouldn’t do. And letting his father do it was something you swore against when Eddie came back into your lives.

You walked into the living room, eyeing the picture frames decorating the hallway as you walked past. The memories had you smiling to yourself. One of them stopped you short - it was you and Steve at Asher’s first birthday, Asher smiling between you. There was so much joy in that photo.

Steve. Steve, who had always been there. Steve, who had never let Asher down a day in his life and would never even dream of it. Steve, who would do anything for both of you.

You had made up your mind by the time you got to the living room. You lifted the phone from the receiver, dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring.

“Hello?” Steve answered after only a few seconds.

“It’s me,” you said through sniffles, wiping away the tears that had managed to fall without you noticing.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, suddenly very serious. “Are you okay? Is Asher okay? Did something happen?”

You huffed a small laugh - it was just such a Steve reaction. “We’re okay. Just…Eddie was supposed to come over tonight, and he never showed up.”

“That asshole,” Steve hissed on the other end of the line. “Why not?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t heard from him.”

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. How did Asher take it?”

“Not well,” you admitted. “He was really upset.”

“That pisses me off,” Steve said, sighing again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“…Would you?” You asked finally, realizing that’s exactly what you wanted right now.

“Of course. I was watching some movies with Robin, but I’ll gladly kick her out.” You heard something thrown at him, then a “Hey!” and some laughter.

“I don’t want to ruin your night-“

“You’re not ruining anything. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled softly to yourself, then hung up the phone.

You wondered if you should make something for you both to eat. It was already 10pm, too late for anything substantial and he probably wasn’t hungry anyway. You settled for taking the cookie dough out of the fridge, lining up the balls of dough on the baking sheet. You were just putting the tray in the oven when the front door opened.

“Hey,” you greeted, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “I’m really happy you came over. I put some cookies in the oven.”

Steve crossed the kitchen quickly, wrapping you in a tight hug within his strong arms. You let yourself melt into the embrace, the feeling of guilt in your chest turning to one of warmth instead. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Of course, you know I’m here any time you need me.” Steve cracked the oven door open, peeking inside. “Nice! Chocolate chip, a classic.”

You giggled as he closed the door, then turned to look at you, leaning against the counter. “Now tell me what happened.”

You recounted the story, starting with Eddie and the guys showing up at the diner. By the time you were done talking, the oven timer was going off. You slipped the oven mitts onto your hands and opened the door, pulling the tray of hot cookies out.

“I can’t believe he would just say he was coming and not show up or call or anything.” Steve shook his head. “These look delicious, by the way.”

Once the cookies were cool, you piled some onto a plate and went to sit on the couch. Steve brought one of the movies he and Robin hadn’t gotten to - Hellraiser - and you started it, although you weren’t paying the most attention as you kept chatting.

The air began to chill the exposed skin of your legs, sending shivers through your body. You pulled a blanket from the back of the couch to spread over your laps. Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you cuddled into his side.

“You know you deserve better than this, right?” Steve whispered.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Ash deserve better than someone unreliable. You deserve more than getting stood up.”

You let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I feel like there has to be some reason. Eddie wouldn’t…I don’t know, the Eddie I knew wouldn’t have done this.”

Steve was quiet for a minute. “You haven’t talked to him for years, sweetheart. Things change.”

He was right, but the words made your stomach ache. You didn’t like thinking about the old Eddie, your Eddie, being gone now. But he had a point. You weren’t the same girl he left behind, either.

You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You were lost in thought, the movie long forgotten.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve said quietly, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek. “You deserve the world.”

“That’s not true-“

“It is,” Steve said firmly. “You’re a beautiful, incredible woman. An amazing mom. Did I mention hot?”

You started laughing then, covering your blushing face with your hands. “Oh my god, stop.”

“I’m serious, though,” Steve said, chuckling lightly. “You are all of those things. I wish you could see your worth. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

He gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. Your eyes met his, seeing something behind them you’d never quite seen before. “Steve?”

His gaze flicked down to your lips. His tongue darted out to lick his own, like he was thinking about something. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widened, completely shocked by his move, but you didn’t push him away. You found you didn’t entirely mind it.

Steve pulled away quickly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

It was completely unexpected. Completely out of nowhere. Steve was your best friend in the world, and it had never been more than that. You had always been off limits, always been Eddie’s girl. But…you weren’t upset at him. It was honestly…nice.

“It’s okay, Stevie…” You trailed a fingertip over his jaw. “I kind of liked it.”

He grinned sheepishly. “You…liked it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted softly. “Maybe we could…do it again?”

Steve smiled at that. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him on the couch. Your hands rested on his biceps, and you both leaned in until your lips were locked together once again.

It was strange, to think it was Steve’s lips on your own. You honestly hadn’t had many experiences outside of Eddie. He was your first boyfriend, and your last. It almost felt wrong, even though you and Eddie hadn’t been together for years, but it also felt right, as cheesy as that sounds.

His hands tightened on your waist as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring your own with an eagerness. He tasted so nice, like peppermint and the cookies you had eaten together. You moaned into the kiss, which made him moan back.

He placed a kiss to the corner of your lips before working over your jawline. When he reached your neck, he began sucking softly at the skin, wanting desperately to mark you up and claim you as his finally, but he knew he couldn’t leave hickies when you’d have to cover them for work and potentially have questions from Asher. So, he restrained himself, moving to a different spot whenever he worried it would start to bruise.

Your head was tilted to the side, eyes closed and soft moans leaving your lips as he devoured you, pulling you as close as you could get to each other. You took it a step further, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him.

You could immediately feel how hard he was beneath you. He knew it, too.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. “You’re just-“

You cut him off by grinding down onto the hardened bulge, making him groan loudly in surprise. You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, laughing quietly. “Shh!” Steve nodded, and you removed your hand.

“Just feels so good,” he mumbled, moving back to kissing your neck. His hands slid around to grab at your ass. He had longed to do that for as long as he could remember, and now that he had his hands on you, it was even better than he pictured in his head all those nights alone. The way your ass fit perfectly in his large hands, the plush of it when he squeezed, it made him impossibly hard.

He moved back up to your lips, kissing you feverishly. You bit down on his bottom lip, and he groaned quietly, his tongue darting out to lick at yours. The kiss had become sloppy, messy, and desperate, all tangled tongues and quiet moans and hands everywhere.

“Steve,” you moaned, his name feeling strange on your tongue in this context. Strange, but nice.

He moaned your name in return, guiding your hips to keep grinding on him. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager if you keep doing this.”

You giggled, giving him one last movement along his aching cock before you climbed off of him. He watched you curiously, wondering if you’d changed your mind, and desperately hoping that wasn’t the case.

He realized all his fears were unfounded as you sunk to your knees in front of him, holding eye contact. His eyes widened and his lips parted, hands clenching into fists on the couch cushions.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice raspy as he looked down at you on your knees for him. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You smirked at him as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and began to pull them down. His erection was obvious in his boxers, straining against the thin material like it was begging for you. “I want to,” you said simply. His cock twitched at your answer.

You pulled his boxers down, exposing his hard cock to your hungry eyes. You practically drooled at the sight. He was big. Like, really big.

You wrapped your hand around it, struggling to close your fingers around his girth. He moaned at the contact, his cock twitching again in your hand. You stroked him a couple times, but he was already rock hard. You leaned forward and licked the precum from his tip.

“Sh- shit!” Steve hissed. “You really don’t have to-“ His head fell back as you engulfed his cock in your mouth, his protests turning to groans of pleasure. “Oh fuck.”

You took him deeper, as deep as you could fit him. You were a bit out of practice admittedly, so you kept gagging on him, but he seemed to love that. He fought to keep his eyes open as he watched you suck his cock, not wanting to miss a single second, but the feeling kept making his eyelids flutter closed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned, one hand moving to rest on the back of your head. He didn’t force you, everything you were doing to him was like heaven already. “You’re so good at this, oh my god.”

You almost laughed, but managed to keep up your motions instead. You paid extra attention to the underside of his cock with your tongue as you sucked him, sucking hard at the tip every now and then, which made his hips buck up into your mouth with a whiney moan. You gently massaged his balls in your hand as you worshipped his cock. You absolutely loved the way your best friend was falling apart for you, because of you.

His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands. You could tell he was getting close, even before he said “Baby, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop-“

You pulled off of him, a string of saliva connecting your plush lips to his dick. He looked at you with an expression of love and adoration and even pain. Like he loved you so much it hurt.

He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply again. He pulled his sweatpants back up. “Fuck. That was amazing,” he said, breathless. “Let’s go to your room?”

You nodded, and then nearly screamed as Steve picked you up bridal style. He carried you quietly to your bedroom and laid you gently on the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, pushing his sweats and boxers back down. He was completely naked before you now, and your eyes roamed over him, enjoying the view maybe a little too much.

He moved for you then, pushing your shirt up as he placed kisses against your stomach, trailing up higher and higher until he reached your breasts. He pushed the shirt up and over your head then wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Your head fell back against the pillows and you moaned quietly at the feeling of his hot mouth against your sensitive nipples. He gave both equal attention, before kissing back down your body.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Your heart swelled in your chest at his words, but you were quickly distracted when he began pulling your shorts and panties down your legs. Once you were naked, he spread your legs, eyes raking over your body, and especially your pussy, like a man starved.

He laid on his stomach between your legs, hands holding your shaking thighs apart. You were nervous - it had been a long time, and you hadn’t exactly been expecting this to happen.

He flattened his tongue and licked a stripe along your folds. You moaned, a hand covering your mouth to keep yourself quiet, because you weren’t sure if you’d have the self control for this.

“You taste so sweet,” he said, burying his face in your pussy and breathing it in like his favorite cologne. “Your pussy is perfect. Even better than I imagined.”

You didn’t focus too hard on that last part, quickly distracted by his tongue flicking over your clit before he wrapped his lips around it. You gasped, back arching as he began to devour you fully.

You had to grab a pillow and hold it over your face, because you couldn’t control the noises Steve was pulling from your body. You were powerless against the pleasure he was giving you, able to do nothing but ride it like a wave, fingers gripping white knuckled into the pillow case.

Steve was much better than your fingers or any toys. He had your orgasm building quickly, stronger than you’d felt in years. You held the pillow tightly against your face as you cried out when your orgasm hit, hips grinding up against Steve’s greedy mouth. He lapped up every bit of slick hungrily, moaning against your pussy.

When you had come down completely, Steve kissed along your thighs, biting gently on the skin there - he could mark you here, at least, where only he could see. He left light bruises on the inside of your thighs. When he was satisfied he moved up your body again slowly. He kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his cock hard and insistent against you. You wanted him badly, so badly you couldn’t believe how desperate you felt for him. You were soaking wet, hips grinding against him as you were desperate for him to fill you.

“I- I don’t have a condom,” Steve said like it pained him, looking down at you. “We can stop-“

“No,” you said quickly. You had come this far after not having sex for two years (at least sober, the night with Eddie after the show had also happened), and you really did not want to stop now. “We can keep going. Just pull out.”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Okay.” He reached down, lining himself up at your entrance. You jumped at the feeling at first, so unfamiliar now. And Steve was big. Not that Eddie wasn’t, but…two years. You barely even remembered the hookup.

“I’ll go slow,” Steve said, sensing your apprehension. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, your heart beating hard in your chest. Steve being so sweet was making this easier, but you knew you wouldn’t want him to stop. “I’m ready.”

Steve slowly pushed inside. He only had his tip in when you clenched your eyes shut, fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked quietly, placing gentle kisses along your cheek. He was carefully thrusting in deeper, moving at as slow of a pace as possible. It took every bit of restraint in his body not to pound you into the mattress.

“Yes,” you said, voice quiet. You were slowly adjusting around him, wanting him deeper and deeper. “Please, more.”

Steve groaned against your ear, pressing in deeper until he finally bottomed out. His hips were pressed flush against yours, his cock completely buried in your tight, perfect heat. It was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he moaned. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand above your head as his other arm held him up. “Wanna make you feel so good. Wanna make you cum again, feel you cum around my cock.”

You whimpered at his words, wanting them all to come true. “Please,” you whispered instead.

Steve hummed, pulling his hips back before slowly rolling them into you again. You both moaned at the perfect friction created between you, the way his cock filled you up. Like a piece of you that had been missing.

He set a slow pace to start, rolling his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. The only sounds in the room were the gentle creaking of the bed and the soft breathy moans from both of you. Steve held your hand tightly over your head, your left gripping onto his right arm for leverage.

When he could tell you weren’t in any pain, he sped up his movements, watching your face carefully for any sign you weren’t enjoying yourself. Instead he saw your beautiful features twist in pleasure, pleasure that he was giving you. Only him. Only Steve.

“You’re incredible,” he said, looking down at you with total adoration. “Absolutely incredible.”

You pulled him down into a heated kiss, your left hand moving up to tangle in his hair. He started fucking you faster, skin slapping against yours as he began really pounding into you.

Steve pulled away to watch you again, finding himself addicted to the way you looked when getting fucked. He looked down at where you were joined, watching his cock disappear inside your perfect cunt. He had to look away before he came immediately.

Little “ah-ah-ah!”s were spilling from your lips, making Steve feel like he’d never been so turned on in his entire life. Everything about you was perfect to him. Everything about this was more than he ever dreamed of, alone with his cock in his hand.

“I’m so close, Stevie,” you whined, pulling him close to you. He was fucking you at the perfect angle, cock hitting just the right spot deep inside. Somewhere you could never reach on your own.

“Cum for me, baby, please,” he said, letting go of your hand to reach between you and rub circles on your clit. “Need to feel you cum all around my dick.”

The extra stimulation on your clit combined with the sensation of his cock filling you completely, pressing against your g-spot with every thrust, sent you over the edge a second time. You came hard, burying your face in his neck as you cried out in pleasure.

It was too much for Steve. Your pussy clenched around him over and over as you rode out your orgasm, and it was so good, and you were just so wet and tight, it sent him over the edge himself before he even knew what was happening.

He moaned your name over and over as he came inside you, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You rode each other through your orgasms, bodies intertwined.

It wasn’t until you came down that you both realized what happened. Steve pulled out of you, a look of pure fear on his face. “Jesus, fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m such an idiot. I-I don’t know what happened, I just…”

“Steve,” you said, placing a hand on his arm to calm his panic. “It’s okay. I…I can go to the doctor, get the pill.”

He visibly calmed once you said that. He placed a hand on your thigh, looking at you seriously. “I’ll take you. I’ll pay for it.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Now come cuddle with me. Unless you’re planning to leave?”

“No!” He said quickly. “No, of course not. You’re not…you’re not just some hookup.” He crawled back into the bed with you, leaning against the pillows. He held an arm out and you cuddled against his side.

Your fingertips idly traced along his chest, feeling the softness of his chest hair. Steve played with your hair gently, twirling your curls around his finger. You were close to drifting off.

Your moments of quiet bliss were interrupted by a knock at the door. You both froze, wondering who could possibly be here at this hour. You had an idea, but you didn’t like the thought of it.

The knock sounded at the door again, and you jumped up. “I’ve got to get that before they wake up Asher.” You pulled your panties back on and grabbed the first shirt you saw.

“Wait, I’m coming with you,” Steve said, fumbling for his own pants, but you were already out of the bedroom.

You opened the door, and your fears were confirmed.

“Eddie,” you said, more like a statement. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush. He was out of breath, like he’d ran here. “We were working in the studio today, and I- I got caught up, and I didn’t realize the time, I was just so caught up in the music and the band that I didn’t think-“

Eddie stopped cold as he looked at something over your shoulder. You turned and saw Steve standing there like a deer in headlights. He was shirtless, only wearing his sweatpants hung low on his hips. It felt like deja vu, only reversed this time.

You turned back to Eddie, who was now looking down at what you were wearing. Steve’s shirt. You hadn’t even noticed what you’d thrown on.

Eddie looked at you with a look of pure horror on his face. You’d think you were still together, like you’d cheated on him with Steve right in front of him. That’s how it felt to Eddie, at least.

“Jesus, what- what did you do?” Eddie asked. His eyes were filled with pain, and even though you weren’t together and you owed him nothing, you felt like the absolute worst person on the planet.

“Ed…”

“Listen man, it’s-“

Eddie held up his hand, silencing the other man. “I…do not want to hear from you right now.”

“Eddie, you’re being unfair,” you said.

“Unfair! How am I being unfair?” Eddie scoffed. He couldn’t even look at the two of you. “I just walked in on you having sex with Steve Harrington-“

“Okay, first of all, you did not walk in on us having sex,” you pointed out. “And second of all, did you forget we’re not together?”

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. Sure, he knew that, but - you’d slept together since he’d been home. It may have been a drunken hookup, but still. You were still kind of his girl, weren’t you? You’d always been. You always would be. Right?

“That doesn’t matter, it’s still-“

“It’s still what?” You asked. “Tell me, Eddie, were you celibate those two years on tour? Or did you fuck groupies after shows while you left me and your son behind?”

Eddie’s face tensed. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know about my son.”

“True,” you said, “but you didn’t answer the other question.”

Eddie stayed silent. It was answer enough. The whole apartment was awkwardly silent, the tension in the air palpable, like a weight over you all.

“You know, you really let Asher down today,” you said. “He was excited to see you. He asked about you all night until he went to bed.”

Eddie’s heart broke. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for that to happen. I never meant to hurt him, or you.” He swallowed. “But does that mean you had to run into the arms of Steve Harrington?”

“Eddie…” you sighed. “I think you should leave. It’s late. We can talk about this later.”

Eddie just looked at you, then to Steve. He shook his head. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

And with that, he turned and left the apartment, wanting to slam the door but at least having the forethought not to since Asher was asleep. He walked down the hall, down the stairs, to the parking lot. His trusty van was there. He had driven himself this time.

There were so many memories in that van, memories with you. Hell, Asher was probably conceived in the back of the damn thing. Eddie climbed into the front seat and lay his head on the steering wheel.

And he cried.

tag list

@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99 @richardsamboramylove55 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @allhailtheslothoverlord @micheledawn1975 @browneyes528 @costellation-hunter @taccobelle @hellmastereddie @siriuslysmoking @princessadriana4-blog @littlemissholy @punkrockmlchael

[riacte]

Unconventional format / mixed media / meta / epistolary fic ideas:

Script format but the characters slowly break fourth wall until they grow self aware and scream to leave but the script confines them.

Mock up notes of an author's fic outline only for a "fan favourite" / "author's darling" character to gain sentience and influence the story. The character changes the outline to suit their own agenda, and their changes are marked with a different colour whereas black text means it's the author's will. Maybe another character using another colour gains sentience. The different colours fight for dominance. Mom says it's my turn with the keyboard hey what the fuck man excuse me I'm literally trying to save my family can you guys let go and let me write your character arcs in peace OH FUCK OFF

Recipe fic. The story is told via those unnecessarily long backstories on a recipe blog in which you learn about someone's grandma or a breakup or literally anything. Bonus points if the actual recipe deals with worldbuilding (what ingredients are available? What utensils are used? How to serve this meal? Woohoo Dungeon Meshi) or in-cheek recipes (eg. "Recipe for making up with your estranged mother - Step 1: Mix patience, nostalgia, and filial piety and let it marinate for ten years. Step 2: Throw that shit into the trash because you're better than that")

Travel fic. A character is lost and trying to find their way somewhere. GPS directions, googling "x place to x place", tickets and dates, train station maps, leaflets. It gets weirder and weirder. You never get closer to your destination. You're walking around in circles. It's always 10 meters away. Where are you going and where have you been?

Receipts. Try to infer what a character is doing judging from the weird things they buy together. Also yipppee inflation tracker. On the other side, maybe it can be about a cashier/ shop owner getting to know their customers and what they order.

Written from the pov of an non-native English speaker, all the English words are italicized whereas their native tongue are the only words not italicized. Inspired by Kupu rere kē by Alice Te Punga Somerville. This is because I got salty about people from Ao3 Reddit saying they won't read a fic in all italics.

Murder mystery / "Among Us" style impersonation fic strictly using the chatfic format. Characters and readers will have to figure out which character has been killed and replaced from the way they text and use emojis. This is also because I got salty about Ao3 Reddit being a wee bit pretentious about emoji usage in fics. Maybe emojis can be important plot devices! Some people prefer to sign off messages with a heart emoji of their signature colour, so won't it be weird if they use another coloured heart? How about someone using lapslock suddenly using proper capitalisation and full stops? Can you tell if someone's phone has been stolen? What if someone's mother is pretending to text like their child? Why is someone suddenly only using UwU speak? Is it a bit, or have they been replaced?

Innocuous second person POV until the last line where it's suddenly revealed to be first person POV all along and the "I" has been stalking and narrating "you".

Other fun bits / Easter eggs / secrets to hide:

Decoding within the text itself. Maybe we get given instructions to find a word in x chapter on page y on the nth line. And when we as readers collect all the words, they form a sentence that spells out an important fact which the characters are oblivious to. Or maybe the in-universe characters find a book with the same title as the irl fic with a bookmark in it, and if you go to where the bookmark is stuck irl, you'll find the murderer plainly stated. The rest of the fic is about the readers having hard confirmation of who the murderer is while characters don't know.

A phrase is subtly repeated throughout the text of the fic and is spelled out with the letter that begins a sentence. It gives off the effect that the narrator is screaming and crying into the void (to the readers in the fourth wall) while trying to avoid detection. Bonus points if the same word is repeated for pages and pages to the point the lack of sentence variation feels weird and clunky.

Morse code!! I love morse code! Using onomatopoeia to convey the dots and dashes! The sound of rain pattering on the tin rooftop— drop, drop, drop. A low whistle of a train rumbling in the distance. He slowly sharpens his knife, creating a shiiing sound. A lengthy, high pitched squeal from his kettle. A dog barks. A sharp knock. His heart thumps. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. SOS. Maybe a character's death scene spells out the name of their mysterious murderer. Maybe a character is reminiscing their deceased loved one and the scene spells out what the deceased person would've wanted to tell them— "LIVE ON" or "I LOVE YOU" or something.

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 4 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9

The Dutch and American couldn't keep each other out of their thoughts for the next few days.

Max found himself wanting to be around you more often. He found something other than racing, that he felt joy to be around.

You found herself drawn to the dark and mysterious aura that the Dutchman unmistakably had. Something about him made you feel something you never felt before.

In the days since they last saw each other, Max made good use of your number. Within an hour of leaving the coffee shop, he texted you.

Since then, they've been communicating nonstop. If they weren't busy with work, they were either texting or calling each other.

It wasn't until the upcoming Thursday that you felt like Max was becoming distant with you.

You were saddened by the thought. You rarely put Yourself out there, especially towards men, but something about Max made you want to try it.

By Sunday afternoon, Max had called you, extremely excited after winning the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. It was a close race between Ferrari and Redbull, but Max ultimately won in the end.

You had spent your Sunday painting, trying to keep your thoughts clear of a certain Dutchman. You wouldn't allow herself to think about it more than you should.

You had put yourself out there and was ghosted. You wouldn't wallow in self-pity for a man You had only met once. At least that's what you told herself.

In front of you lay a painting of piercing blue eyes that stared right back at you. You stared back, getting lost in the familiar gaze before the sound of your phone ringing broke your thoughts.

Quickly grabbing the phone without looking at who was calling, you answered, "Hello?"

"Hey," you heard the rough voice of the man who has been haunting your thoughts recently.

"Max?"

"Why do you sound surprised to get my call?"

"I didn't think you would call me," You said lightly, your heart racing just from his voice. "You seemed to not want to talk to me recently."

"I'm sorry, little lamb," You heard him sigh through the phone. "I was away for work and things got busy."

"Oh," You blushed at the pet name he said, "So you weren't done with me?"

"Little lamb, you can't get rid of me that easy," you giggled at his answer before responding.

"How was the work trip then?"

"It went well, but I can't wait to come back and see you again."

"When do you come back?"

"Tonight. I'd love to see you again sometime this week."

"I would love to see you too," you bit your lip nervously. "You have to tell me all about your trip."

"I will little lamb," he chuckled.

The Redbull driver couldn't keep the smile off his face. His little lamb wanted to be around him when he came back.

He was upset that you believed him to be ignoring you when that wasn't his intention at all. Max didn't tell you that he had gone away for work. He's used to people knowing who he is.

The name Max Verstappen has become a household name overnight it seemed. After winning his World Championship title last year, especially under the circumstances, he had built a name for himself. Good and bad.

So for him, you were a breath of fresh air. Being around someone that did know him, or what he does for a living, made him feel normal. As an F1 driver, normal is hard to come by.

Daniel Ricardo, the McLaren driver, and Max's closest friend, watched him on the phone from a distance. He had never seen his friend's face light up as much as it did when speaking to whoever was on the other end.

Daniel was there for the Dutchman since the beginning of his career at Redbull. Max was his younger brother in his head and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The McLaren driver knew that the Dutchman past, knowing he hadn't had the easiest life and his life revolved around racing. After watching the Redbull driver win his first title, the Aussie watched him slowly start to become a recluse.

Riccardo knew the young driver had been struggling since his world championship title came with a lot of controversy. Max wanted to prove to everyone, including himself, that he was a great driver.

Seeing the Aussie walking towards him, the Dutchman quickly told his little lamb goodbye and that he'd call back when he got the chance.

He didn't want anyone to know about you just yet. You were his escape from reality and he refused to share that escape with anyone else in fear of losing it.

"You all good mate?" The Australian driver asked once he got closer to the other driver, noticing the small smile on his face.

"Yeah," he responded shortly, letting the smile drop from his face.

"Who were you just on the phone with?" The driver smirks at his old teammate. He couldn't help but be nosey.

Especially after noticing how quickly he got off the phone when he approached. He wouldn't be Daniel Riccardo if he didn't know any drama.

"No one," Max shook his head quickly, refusing to fall for the other man's antics.

"Did our little Dutchman find a girl?"

"No," Max deadpanned. If he told the Aussie, it wouldn't be long before Lando, the other McLaren driver knew. And the younger driver couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"You don't smile, especially on the phone, for just anyone."

"Daniel," the younger driver sighed, knowing the smile on his friend's face meant he wasn't going to stop pushing him. "If I tell you something you will drop the subject?"

The Aussie nodded his head vigorously, his classic grin plastered on his face. He just wanted to know what was going on with his friend.

If a girl is making him this happy, he'd like to know about you.

"You can't tell anyone about her okay? I don't need this getting out especially since it just started."

"I promise I won't say anything."

"She's amazing. She's gorgeous and absolutely the most innocent human being out there," he smiles thinking about you he hopes to see tomorrow. "The best part is, she doesn't know who I am."

"She doesn't?" That surprised Daniel, seeming how almost everyone knew who he was. "I don't want to say this, but is she faking this personality to get close to you?"

"No," the Dutchman shakes his head, not even entertaining the thought, "this girl can't lie to save her life. You can see it in her eyes that she has nothing but good intentions."

"Alright," the Aussie nods, choosing to believe his friend. "Where'd you meet her?"

"Coffee shop in Monaco."

"She's from Monaco and doesn't know who you are?"

"She's American, she only moved to Monaco for work."

"An American? Should have just started with that," the McLaren driver grins, "you know how much I love Americans."

Max shakes his head at his friend's comment. Thinking to himself how right his friend is.

The McLaren driver does love Americans, everyone on the grid is pretty positive that the man is a secret American pretending to be Australian.

"Look man," Daniel says while grabbing the Redbull driver's shoulder, "if she's making you this happy, who am I to say shit."

The Dutchman gives the Aussie a slight smile, thinking about you. He can't see you fitting into his lifestyle, yet at the same time, he can't seem to want anyone but you here.

"I want to be the first one to meet her," Daniel slowly gets a mischievous look in his eyes, "I can't promise that she won't choose me instead of you once she sees this beautiful face."

Taglist: @shelbyteller, @smithieandy, @fangirlforever2000, @herexpertcollector, @vip-access

[bigtedbear]

" 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐥𝐥?

content warnings: male reader, comfort/hurt/comfort, two old men, SFW, ill/chronically ill reader, misunderstood feelings, fontaine story quest spoilers!!!, Furina is the same gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, bear with me theyre in love they're just doomed by the narrative

clarification: case of collywobbles translates roughly to a case of butterflies in the stomach

the plan for this chapter changed as I was writing it and the title of the chapter became basically irrelevant BUT i still think it's fitting

" welcome back, caller @yuri1306! connecting your line as we speak... "

*dramatic drumroll*

hey guys it's finally out

A fair warning to all my returning readers: this may not be my best work, I'll be the first to admit that a lot of this was impeded by my writers block and I really needed to just push this out to get past it

many apologizes to @yuri1306 I did my best to try and encapsulate the entirety of your request my creative flow was not creatively flowing as well as it usually does :(((

That being said I don't think it's bad!!!

I still hope you all enjoy <33

“She really is quite something, is she not?” 

Neuvillette’s head pivoted to turn to the new voice. Unfamiliar at best, intimidating at worst. 

Furina de Fontaine’s inaugural speech; a historic moment and a moment none in attendance were soon to forget.  

Yet, instead of flocking to the stage to request audience with Focalors herself, you were here. 

You lagged behind the crowd. 

You chose to speak with Neuvillette instead. 

In accordance with social etiquette, he wiped the suspicious look off of his face.  “She is confident, assertive.  She has done well in establishing a name for herself in a social setting as brutal as the court.” 

You hummed, resting both palms on the intricate cane you’d chosen to accessorize yourself with.  “It’s a shame in all actuality.  She would have done better to take the harsh critique of the first half of her speech.  I would much prefer to see a face of humility and honesty leading the nation of justice.” 

Neuvillette did not respond. 

The silence was supposedly uncomfortable, and yet the regular churning nausea of awkward tension didn’t seem to constrict the Iudex’s airway. 

Carefully, you peeled a gloved hand from the handle of your cane.  You offered it to the judge politely.  

Cautiously, he gripped it in his own hand before giving it a simple shake. 

“I am [name], I have been appointed to serve as the acting chief advisor of Fontaine.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” 

“How did you-”

You raised a brow curiously, looking at the large crowd of people before looking back to the other man still currently holding your hand in his own.  “...forgive my cheek when I say this, Monsieur, but it truly isn’t difficult to pick you out of a crowd.  I must say, your predecessor didn’t mince his words when it came to describing your appearance, you are exactly as he described.”

Even as you hid the amused expression stretching the lower half of your face behind your fingers, the red tainting his otherwise pale skin was not as easily disguised.  Still, even in the face of his unmistakable embarrassment, he did his best to steer the conversation elsewhere.  “You’ve spoken to him?” 

You nodded, resting a hand on your cane.  “For someone as old as I am, I have my connections.”  You gestured towards the stage, “Lest another have been chosen for this position.” 

Another silence settled between the two of you.

He coughed into his fist, volume diminishing as he asked, “My predecessor, he didn’t… speak poorly of me, did he?”

He watched your expression twist with mirth, eyes glinting with poorly veiled amusement.  “No, nothing of the sort.  You can rest assured he was nothing but kind towards you.”  You paused, leaning on your cane as you seemed to think on your words, “Well, at the very least, he wasn’t cruel.  I’m sure you of all people know he’s become far too short-tempered for pleasantries.” 

Neuvillette sighed, posture deflating just the slightest bit.  

It was impossible to miss the chuckle that escaped at his expense. “In the very least, you were spared the worst of mentors.  I’ve heard that one of the remaining Adepti seems intent on meddling in their apprentice’s love lives.”

“You can’t be serious,” the other man responded. 

“Oh, completely serious,” You gestured for him to follow you out into the lobby; there was far less crowding, “I felt so terribly for the young woman last I made the journey to Liyue.  If you were to ask my opinion on the matter, Xianyun is far in over her head trying to meddle in the affairs of young love.” 

He blinked, “Xianyun?” 

You hummed, placing a contemplative hand under your chin.  “You’ve never left the boundaries of Fontaine, have you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Her Adeptal name is Cloud Retainer, aside from that, she is referred to by the name Xianyun.  She has currently taken on an apprentice in the shape of a young half-human half-adeptus,” you explained, trailing up the steps to and from the large theater.  “Ganyu has a very sweet temperament, but it seems as her master attempts to push further into her personal affairs, the further she’s moving to get away from her.” 

Neuvillette nodded his head, tentatively following your lead away from the large crowd.  “Is this related to why you are treating Lady Furina in a similar manner?” 

You paused, looking towards him.  “Oh, not in the slightest.” 

You could see the confusion growing further onto his face. You snickered behind your glove again, turning your back to continue trailing up the stairs.

Still, he followed you up the countless steps towards the lobby.  “I see… I suppose I’m having trouble understanding why you wouldn’t be at Lady Furina’s side in a moment like this.” 

You hummed, “Well, the hydro archon has already made her bed, I can do nothing but allow her to lay in it.” 

“I’m… not following.” 

You tapped your cane on the floor pointedly, “Well, Focalors has many plans to set in motion.  I play both a pivotal role in the production myself, but as of now, my only obligation is to play the role of a spectator.” 

Neuvillette’s brows furrowed. “...Has she asked you to be away from her in these moments?” 

You shook your head.  “Not directly.  But upon watching her grand performance upon the equally grand stage, what choice am I left with?” You pushed open the door to the lobby with one hand, pressing your back against it to allow Neuvillette to cross the threshold first. “Lady Furina has portrayed herself as the almighty, someone completely untouchable by the likes of man or any other power.”  

“Are you upset by her decision to do so?” The Iudex inquired, gripping his own cane closer to his chest.

You shook your head, "Not at all.  But let’s think for a moment what it would look like if the moment she steps off the stage, all questions are instead directed to her advisor.” You followed after him in the next breath, trailing towards the entrance to the grand theater. “In most scenarios, her all-powerful archon of justice is immediately crumpled in the eyes of the common person.” 

“...” 

You shrugged, “At least, when I put myself in the shoes of the lay person, I am not fooled.  She can put on as grand an act as she wishes on the stage, but when she is no longer in a space that is built for a performance, the reality behind the facade is suddenly revealed.  If Furina de Fontaine really is all knowing and all knowledgeable, why would she need to hide behind her advisor in the face of questions?” 

Neuvillette almost audibly heard something click in his brain.  “You are staying away so she can better maintain her image?” He pushed the door to the Epiclese open, welcoming in the sunlight.

You snapped your fingers, “Correct!” You dusted your shoulder off as you passed through the door.  “She MUST rely on herself. There is no glancing to the sidelines for reassurance or answers, this solution removes all distractions.”

The Iudex nodded, thoughtful.  “I believe I’m beginning to understand.” 

“I’m glad,” you took in a deep breath of air as you began to make the long trek towards the Fountain of Lucine,

“We are, of course, going to be working together for a very long time.”

“I figured I would find you here.”

Against the noise of rain pelting against his back, the Iudex lifted his head from his contemplative stupor. 

The dreary grays of the backdrop seemed to melt together similarly to how his thoughts slowly blended together to form one big amalgamated lump.  Still, in spite of the hail Mary of all storms  boring holes into the fabric of your umbrella, you stood face to face with him in the rain. 

“...”

“...”

He gave a half-hearted sigh, any coherent thought swimming in the puddles sloshing against the bottoms of his shoes. 

“Why are you out?” 

You didn’t answer to start with.  He didn’t know if it was because you were thinking over your words or if it was because you couldn’t hear him over the sound of water against the pavement. 

“Well, why are you out?” 

Answering a question with another question; typical. 

“I am troubled.” 

You hummed, moving your umbrella off your shoulder.  You held it between the two of you, equidistant so it’d stop the rain pouring all over the other man’s handsome features. 

“Troubled about what, Neuvillette?” 

The skin between his brows creased as he tried to come up with a good answer. 

He was a judge, someone that is meant to be completely unbiased in the face of the law.  He is to hear a case, come to the correct conclusion, and be able to live with himself at the end of the day. 

“A case.” 

You waited…

…and waited…

…and then waited some more. 

“...a case?” You tilted your head to the side. 

Neuvillette struggled to hold eye contact, letting his gaze drop to the rising flood.  “It was a case of theft, a single mother.” 

You gave a knowing hum.  “I see.  Have you come to the conundrum of justice versus fairness?” 

Again, you waited on a response. 

“...It isn’t so much that I haven’t seen cases like this before, it was something about the desperation on her face as she begged for leniency I was unable to grant her.” 

You nodded again.  “Still, am I correct to assume you have come to the moral dilemma of fairness versus justice?” 

His frown only deepened.  “I do not understand what you mean.” 

You poked a finger to your temple, “Well, logically, you are aware that theft is a crime.  You know that it is just and correct to dole out a sentence for a crime."

“...”

You poked him in the chest, “But you feel like the sentence is unfair because she had no other choice.”  

“...”

“You, as the Iudex, are unable to give her leniency because she committed a crime, but your heart wants to right the injustices she and her child are forced to endure,” You gestured towards the streets.  “The Court of Fontaine rarely sees those less fortunate unless they are begging.  Despite being the ones in charge, those in the Court are shielded from the problems of the common person.  You aren’t used to seeing someone in a situation where crimes become a necessity.” 

“...I suppose I am not.” 

You nodded again, “You see her, you hear her cries, you know her reasons, and yet, as a judge, you are unable to save her.  You must be wondering, why is that?” 

Like a lost puppy, Neuvillette’s head bobbed up and down. 

 "I’m afraid, I cannot answer,”  You reached into your breast pocket, blindly searching for your pocket watch.  “We can only have faith that the system will work in its due time.  Pray that the Fortress of Meropide treats her well, ask of Focalors to look over the poor child in the House of the Hearth.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

The corner of your lips quirked up in a smile.  “What can be considered a misfortune can actually be a blessing in disguise.” 

Neuvillette tilted his head to the side. 

You gestured to the falling water,  “Rain may be commonplace in Fontaine, but in areas of Teyvat, rain is so rare it’s considered a sign or blessing.” 

“...That may be so.”

You adjusted your grasp on the umbrella.  “I am not originally from Fontaine.  Where I am from, rainfall this heavy would be considered a wonderful blessing.”

“...”

You waited for a response from him.  However, he didn’t seem to have one to give. 

“...”

You reached a hand out to him.  

He stared at it for a moment.  

You did your best to smile. 

“What is this for?” 

“Well,” you began, “You seem to be in low spirits.  I thought perhaps I would do my best to help shift your perspective.   There will be no convincing you unless there is some kind of change of pace.”

He frowned.  “Do you intend to lead me somewhere?” 

You shook your head.  

“...Well, what do you intend to do in any case?” 

You gestured to the water cascading down the sides of the plastic umbrella, “I want to celebrate a bountiful rain.”  

His sour expression only seemed to deepen as he looked around.  “I don’t understand what there is to celebrate.  We are in Fontaine.  Rain is an impediment to daily life.” 

You sighed, “Well, I want to help reframe your thoughts.”  You pointed to him, “Your perspective on the rain is inherently negative.  You believe it’s nothing but a nuisance.”  

“...”

You placed a hand over your heart, “It might have been a while since I’ve made a trip home, but still, everytime the rain is plentiful, it brings a smile to my face.” 

Once again, he didn’t respond.   Wordlessly, his gloved hand slipped into your own. 

Tentatively, you dropped the umbrella to the ground, facing the full wrath of the droplets soaking into your expensive suit.  

Immediately, Neuvillette’s face twisted in alarm. 

Still, you took his other hand in your own, beginning the steps to the traditional Fontainian Waltz.  

His mouth opened to speak, but it seemed without the shield of the umbrella, you couldn’t hear the sound of his protests.   Instead, you dropped one of his hands to bring him into a messy twirl. 

He flailed awkwardly for a moment, cheeks lighting up a red hue as he did his best not to slip on the wet bricks. It was more than obvious he was used to dancing the lead.   Even in his embarrassment, it seemed he didn’t have the heart to stop you. 

At the sound of a jovial laugh, even as the sky cried around the two of you, he felt his burning cheeks begin to light up in flames. 

Slowly, but surely, the clouds began to part. 

Another twirl, a few more shuffling paces, a misstep from him, more snickers at his expense.

Another handful of steps, and this time he would be the one to twirl you around.

It seemed time melded into a loop, nothing more than a concept that happened to slip your mind. The rain dissipated to nothing more than a fond memory.

As the dance came to a close, you coughed into the palm of your glove, trying to clear your throat.  “Are you feeling any better now, Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

“Just Neuvillette. Monsieur feels much too formal.”

Your polite smile stretched upwards just a little more as your shoes created little ripples in the surface of the unnaturally large puddles.  “I’ll take it that you are feeling better, then?” 

“Much.  Thank you.” 

You nodded again, “Well, I want to continue our discussion from earlier–about the mother and her upcoming sentence.” 

“...hm?” 

You chuckled, “Did you forget already?” 

He shook his head, “Of course not!” He tapped his cane against the ground, “It’s simply the fact I lack understanding for why you are bringing up the subject again.” 

You hummed, playfully incredulous.  “Yes, yes, anyways, let me make my point,” You cleared your throat once again, “Think of her sentence as a new beginning for both her and her child.  The Fortress of Meropide is by no means a kind place, but it is no crueler than the same streets that forced her to become a thief in the first place.” 

He tucked an arm behind his back. 

“Just as you viewed the rain as a nuisance, she views her sentence as a punishment.  In reality, I believe the situation is a blessing in disguise,”  You made a circular motion with your wrist, “Both her and her child will be cared for by their respective shelters.  She will have a job to occupy her time, a source of income, and her and her child will go to sleep in a warm bed, well fed.  Mother and son are only going to be separated for a short period of time, hopefully when they are reunited, the mother will have found steady employment in the Fortress.”

“Your health is beginning to get worse.”

Your eyes trailed behind you. “I'm surprised you noticed, my Lady. You've been busy as of late.”

Furina clicked her tongue, shaking her head dismissively. “What kind of archon would I be if I was not aware of my personal retainer’s health? You underestimate me.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking her nose affectionately. “I am your advisor, not your retainer nor your assistant. I am aware of your struggles, you don't need to pretend when it's just the two of us.”

Her cheeks puffed up angrily, rubbing the red blurb on her face. “Even if nobody is around, that doesn't mean you can embarrass me!”

You reached into your pocket to pull out a handkerchief, laughter turning into coughing behind a palm. You held the cloth over your mouth, feeling much too weak and pitiful for your own good. “Apologies, Lady Furina,” you sputtered out, “I will refrain from putting you in such a position in the future.”

She huffed, turning up her nose. “I expect nothing less from you.”

You took a deep breath, wiping your face with your kerchief. Stilling your breathing, you gave a cursory glance at the “Hydro Archon”. After so long of suffering, it pained you to know that she was indeed so far away from the finish line. “My Lady, I am afraid my time may come sooner rather than later.”

Her eyes widened. “You can't mean you're...”

You shook your head, doing your best to suppress another laugh for the sake of your throat, “No! Gods, no. I am anything but fragile, I will make it perfectly fine.”

She let out a groan, immediately taking to beating on your arm indignantly. “You infidel! You made me believe you were going to pass away! How cruel!”

You shielded yourself from her attacks playfully, backing up and raising your hands to stop her, “How terrible, Furina! You're attacking a sick man in broad daylight!”

She let another irritated groan slip, smacking your arm once more, “Only because you attacked me first!”

You cocked your head to the side, “I did not!”

“Did too!” She pointed an accusatory finger, “You attacked my emotional wellbeing! How was I supposed to be able to recover from the death of my most treasured advisor?”

You placed a hand over your heart, “You mean it, my lady?”

Her cheeks puffed up again, swelling a brilliant claret. She only grew more incensed as you continued to poke at her. Though, instead of using your words, your failure to quash a smile was more than enough to provoke her.

Still, as the merciful and benevolent archon she was, she pardoned your sins.

She crossed her arms, “When are you leaving?”

“Leaving?”

You felt a prick of anxiety inject its way into your nervous system. “Ah, Neuvillette, how lovely to see you again.”

Furina also paused in her tracks at the familiar voice. She remained silent.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance again, Lady Furina, [name],” he offered out a hand for you to shake. Hastily, you tucked your handkerchief in your breast pocket. “What is this about leaving?”

You took his hand in your own, “Nothing drastic, simply an appointment I must be on time for. Regrettably, I will be unable to spectate the proceedings of today’s trial.”

Neuvillette nodded, “I see. There will always be the archives in my office in case you'd like to catch up with the case material at any point.”

You nodded, humming with a courteous smile. “Perhaps I will take you up on that offer.”

Furina finally took the chance to speak up, “You have yet to answer my question, Monsieur. As your superior, I believe I am privy to such information.”

You diverted your attention from Neuvillette, pondering for a moment. “Around 15:00? I believe that should be ample time to make my appointment.”

Neuvillette perked up immediately, “Ah, is this in regards to your cough?”

Nodding, you turned your attention to the Grand Theatre, “Unfortunately it is. Usually, I would've recovered by this point, but because it's persisting I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Furina pulled her own small pocketwatch from where it was stashed. It popped open with a quiet, ‘click!’ “It seems we’ll have to cut this chance meeting short, Guests will be arriving soon for the trial.”

Neuvillette nodded, “I suppose we should be heading inside to take our seats,” He made a vague motion with a gloved hand, “Shall we?”

“Furina, would you be so kind as to allow us a moment alone?” She cocked her head to the side at your suggestion, but she relented.

“Alright, but before I leave, can I request just one thing?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Dutifully, you nodded.

She beckoned you closer with a finger.

It was your turn to raise a brow at her.

Still, you leaned in.

She tugged on your sleeve.

You leaned in even further.

“Come back in one piece,” she whispered, pinching the shell of your ear.

You gave a yelp as you tugged your head away from her assaulting fingers, rubbing the new crescent marks her nails left behind. “Now, was that really necessary, my Lady?”

She gave a triumphant smile, though you could tell by the way it wilted at the corners, she was less than thrilled. She placed a hand over her heart, giving her signature bow, “Perfectly necessary. Now, allow me to excuse myself.” Still, as she stood, she pointed an accusatory finger, “Keep this brief, after all Monsieur Neuvillette has a trial to preside over.”

“Of course,” you placed a hand over your own heart, mirroring her as you lowered your head, “I wouldn't dream of delaying any proceedings.”

She allowed herself one more parting glance before scampering off into the building to take her seat.

Watching her figure disappear, you finally returned your gaze back to Neuvillette. You coughed into your fist, trying to alleviate the pressure in your trachea. He only observed you silently.

“Neuvillette?”

“Yes?”

“Take a walk with me,” regretfully, you tacked on, “I'd enjoy your company one last time.”

It was unlike such a building to be so quiet. Still, given the hour, the Palais Mermonia lay dormant.

Only the Iudex and his retainer remained. Despite his more than spacious residential quarters, his chambers were too restrictive on this night in particular. They felt empty. They felt devoid of something, he just didn't know what.

So, instead of sleeping, he found himself running his hand along the cold marble walls. Trailing the corridor without a particular destination in mind, the candle in his other hand flickered and cast its shadow against the dark. It dawned on Neuvillette that he truly neglected the rest of his home the longer he walked. A vast dining hall, an equally large kitchen, a comically extensive library; all completely left to rot as he worked himself to death.

As he reached his hand to turn the knob of another door, he felt a sense of trepidation wash over him. One that wasn't present when he entered any of the other rooms.

Why?

…

He didn't know.

He let his grip lay slack on the handle for another moment while he wracked his brain for any ideas. What was this room? Had he been here before? Why could he feel his hand shaking?

Finally, he put those thoughts out of his mind when the lock clicked open and the wooden door swung open with a loud ‘creeeaaakkkk’.

‘Ah,’ he realized, ‘This was one of his rooms.’

A grand study, unchanged by time, greeted him. It was as if you'd never left. Sprawling bookshelves climbing up each wall, ladders haphazardly laid to lean on the dusty spines of forgotten books. An even larger than life desk at the far end, spotted with unsigned paperwork and long dried up ink pots. Even sadder, a single lamplight lily wilted in its pot at the corner of your desk.

He felt his heart crumble when he realized he had been the one to put it there.

The little makeshift lounge was equally well-preserved. A porcelain tea set he remembered so fondly collected dust at the center of the coffee table. Your favorite book lay across the arm of your favorite cushioned seat, a pressed flower bookmark denoting where you'd left off.

Neuvillette was almost tempted to pick up the novel himself, but he was afraid of two things. One, he didn't want to ruin this serenity, this moment frozen in time. Two, he didn't know if the book would actually hold itself together based on its age.

The armchair groaned as Neuvillette rested his weight on it. He felt a little bit like a loser, sitting alone in the middle of an empty room. Especially because the longer he sat, the more alone he felt. How long had it been since you invited him into your study like this? Could he even remember? It'd been around a century since you'd left…

…or had it been longer?

It only seemed to homogenize and blur the more he tried to remember. Years were starting to look more and more like the last the longer his monotonous life droned on.

It was so bad he couldn't remember how long ago it was he saw your face, but he remembered it. He definitely remembered what had been said.

'“Since you're needed elsewhere, I'm afraid much of what I want to say will go unsaid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I apologize for trying to deceive you, I truly am sorry,” you tapped your cane against the ground, “I was so close to getting away with it, too.”

“Deceiving me?” His expression shifted, “About what?”

“I’m leaving, yes,” You sighed, “But I'm afraid I won't be coming back.”

It felt like his heart stopped completely.

“I didn't want to drag you into matters that were already settled between myself and Focalors, but I know how you feel about me,” you awkwardly switched the hand gripping your cane, “When I thought about how devastated you'd be when you'd learned I'd lied to you, I decided I had to tell you.”

“But why?” Neuvillette asked, “Why would you only tell me now?”

A grimace overtook your features as the skies began to softly weep his sorrows, “You mustn't cry Neuvillette, Fontaine will need your strength now more than ever.”

“Do you really expect me to be strong in a moment like this? Am I not allowed to mourn?” He went to reach for your face, but his arm fell back to his side dejectedly. “You really won't be returning?”

“Knowing what I must do, I also know it will be the last of me.”

“Do you really need to leave today?” The Iudex grappled for some kind of opportunity, “Just one day, if I can have that, I can make peace with this.”

You shook your head, “I've put this off for too long already, I was afraid Fontaine wouldn't be ready for me to leave, I was even more afraid Furina wouldn't be able to continue on without me.”

“Not even a day?”

“I've made up my mind.” You finally let yourself rest a gloved hand on his cheek, watching his posture deflate while he leaned into your touch, “I'm eager to make this sacrifice for Fontaine, but I'm less than eager to leave you behind.”

“Why must you be the one to do it?” His voice came out like a whisper.

“I can't tell you,” you brushed your thumb across his cheek, wiping the rain away from his eyes, “But I want you to know before I am gone that you were loved, Neuvillette. I loved you, and I will die loving you.”

“Don't say that, please, don't say that.”

“Then, can I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, anything I can offer.”

You smiled, “Take care of Furina, and take care of Fontaine.”’

How cruel, Neuvillette thought.

How cruel for Furina to leave him such a painful reminder this close to the very bed he slept in every night.

How awful for her to keep her hopes up when Neuvillette knew you wouldn’t return.

After all, what other reason would there be for her to keep your office so well maintained, so perfectly preserved and untouched.

It felt like Neuvillette was sitting in an empty tomb.

The wooden legs of the chair shrieked against the tile of the floor in the deafeningly silent study. He didn’t know where his feet were taking him, but he couldn’t decide on whether he wanted to leave or if he needed to stay longer.

Still, he paused in front of your former desk.

He didn't know why.

He also didn't know why he sat down in your nice leather office chair, rolling himself in so he could rest his head on the cool wooden desktop.

He didn't know why he was disappointed it didn't smell like you anymore. Of course it didn't smell like you, it'd been at least a hundred years since you were here. But maybe if he dug deep into his memories, he could pretend it did.

If he had gotten to have just one day, he could've made peace with your passing.

But how do you say goodbye to someone you considered to be your forever in just a few short moments?

Neuvillette couldn't come up with a good answer before he fell asleep again.

“Tall, lean, and emaciated. It was entirely unexpected for him to wake up at all.”

Furina clicked her tongue, dismissively. “I may not be the Hydro Archon any longer, but that doesn't mean you are allowed to freely criticize me. I asked to see him, I care not what state he's in.”

The attendant bowed stiffly, shoulders scrunched up. “I-I apologize, my lady,” He stammered, “I was unaware of what your intentions in meeting up with this man were, I believed his physical condition to be-”

She gave an irritated huff, puffing up her chest to express her discontent. Instantly, the man’s jaw snapped shut. She waved her hand. When the attendant didn't move, she waved her hand again.

Still, he didn't move.

“Helloooo? Do you have any idea what's going on?” Her expression shifted to be entirely displeased, “You are dismissed.”

“O-Oh!”

She watched the man scurry off like a sad puppy with its tail between its legs.

Finally, she turned her attention to the rather large door to the private room tucked away inside the infirmary of the Fortress of Meropide. She was left alone with her thoughts. Consequently, she could now focus on the nerves creeping up her spine.

It had been a month since the prophecy had been fulfilled, since she had saved the entirety of Fontaine.

She was free to be Furina now, free from her duties as the human half of Focalors.

It was exactly why she felt so confused about her anxiety of whatever lay beyond this door.

Her hands were clammy, her breathing accelerating. Her vision was starting to swim, and oh archons, was that a stress migraine brewing? For all the hard work she put into this, she didn't seem to be feeling the payoff.

But she couldn't be thinking like that now!

Instead of letting her doubts and worries consume her, she placed a shaky hand to the cold metal handle. Her movements were unsure as she wrapped her fingers around the bar. It felt like all the strength in her arm evaporated the longer she held onto the handle without doing anything.

So she used what little strength was left to sharply tug the door open.

"..."

“Furina?”

"..."

By the gods.

“Furina-” the voice was an exhausted rasp, “You have to tell me the seal didn't break, the prophecy didn't happen, I can't have failed-”

Her mouth opened to reassure you everything was fine, but the next moment her lips were curling as she tried to bite back a sniffle.

You took this to mean the worst, eyebrows curling upward in despair. A shaky hand reached towards your face, layering over your mouth.

Still, even when seeing you so worried and disappointed in yourself, she couldn't bring herself to cough up any words of affirmation.

'You didn't fail! Everyone was saved!’ she wanted to scream.

But instead she took a shaky first step over to the terribly thin cot you were situated on. Her arm absentmindedly raised to reach toward you.

“No, no, no, no, no-” Your hand raked through your already disheveled hair.

She took another step.

You pressed your hands together, hands clasped tight as you looked to the skies above, “I'm sorry, Egeria, Focalors, I promised I would- I swore-”

She began to walk.

“I promised Fontaine would be in good hands- I never meant to lie to you, Archons above if you may hear, forgive me-”

She could feel her own tears begin to slide down her cheeks as she watched you begin to openly weep, to pray and beg for some kind of mercy you did not need. She felt like a bag of bones as she took a seat next to you on the edge of the cot.

Your attention finally snapped to her, “Furina, my darling Furina, to you I am the most sorry-” You took a gasping breath, chest shaking as you heaved out another weak cry, “You have suffered in silence for centuries without me and I was unable to do the very least I promised to you-”

Her arm felt equally weightless when you picked up one of her limp hands to wrap up in your larger palms. Before you could continue to beg for forgiveness, her facial features twisted into just the smallest smile.

You almost didn't notice it until she started laughing.

With a renewed vigor, she wrapped her other hand around one of yours. Tears of relief streaming down her face, she all but shouted a victory cry in the middle of the quiet infirmary room, “We did it! We really did it! You don't need to be forgiven because we did it!”

As she celebrated, her happy tears flowed down her face, you didn't know how to respond at all.

“We… did it?”

She nodded quickly, all but shaking. “Yes, it's over, [name], we can finally rest.”

You blinked again, all but ceasing your tears.

“We can… rest? But- but what about-”

Your mind filtered between all the different things you could say.

What about your promise to Egeria? The deal you made with Focalors? You had sworn you would lay your life down to pave the pathway for a free Fontaine, a Fontaine without a curse lingering overhead. The seal you had sworn to protect until your last breath, it had broken… but it was still okay.

You were still here.

But what had happened? Were there any complications or bumps in the road? What about Furina? What would she do in her life as a cursed human? What would YOU do? And then there was…

“Neuvillette!” You suddenly snapped back to full alert, “What about Neuvillette?”

She smacked your arm, “You managed to survive and your first thought isn't even about yourself!” She sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek, “300 years has done nothing to change you.”

It was as though her words went in one ear and out the other, “What has become of him? Is he alright? He’s been well, hasn't he? Please tell me nothing too awful has happened to him.”

This time, she smacked your arm with an added aggression, “[name]! Neuvillette is fine! Would you please relax?” Still despite urging him to relax, she couldn't help the way her hands seemed to move on their own. Tiny claps, each ringing in the empty room with a joyous sound, “It's only seeming to sink in now that we are free.” She paused again, “Free, isn't that such a beautiful word?”

You nodded, but your thoughts wandered. “Indeed.”

Furina tutted, crossing her arms, “And what exactly has your mind wandering this time? Don't tell me it's still Neuvillette!”

You sheepishly averted your eye contact.

She pouted, “Well? Out with it!”

You sighed, “Does he know? That I am still…”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I didn't think to tell him. I was far too busy trying to find you, you rascal.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “However, I can assure you he will be nothing less than overjoyed to see you.”

You swallowed a lump of spit, “He will?”

She nodded, “Even all these years later, he hasn't moved on. You're lucky he is as loyal a man as can be, otherwise he might have moved on.”

“He waited… 300 years? Without any other relationships?”

“I would hardly believe it myself if I were you, but I've seen him make the trek to your old study with my own two eyes!” She folded her hands in her lap, “He really is as loyal at they come.”

You frowned, “That doesn't make me feel any better.”

She tilted her head to the side, “Why not? After all, you two were in love, weren't you?”

“I..." you began, "...don't know. Silly, irrational fears, I guess."

But you definitely knew.

How does one go about saying hello without a proper goodbye?

Especially when there wasn't supposed to be a "you" to say "hello" to in the first place.

“I came as soon as I heard-”

Furina stood from where she was seated just outside your room in the infirmary, “You’ll have to wait,  Siegewinne is with him right now.” 

His knuckles turned white around the handle of his cane, “Surely, she wouldn’t be bothered if I just stood in, if I could just–”

“Neuvillette,” Furina warned, “Whatever Siegewinne orders is in the best interests of her patient.  It isn’t our place to question her.” 

His hands were shaking as he tried to plead his case, moving closer to the door, “Lady Furina, you don’t understand.  I have to see him, I must see that it is truly him, that he is truly alive–” 

He was rambling at this point, so dizzyingly frenzied he could barely feel Furina’s smaller hands curl around his biceps, “Calm down!” 

“I-”

“No, no more arguments,” she shook him gently, “You need to pull yourself together before you become another patient.   You’re paler than I’ve ever seen you.” 

He went to open his mouth again, but one look from the former archon sent his jaw snapping shut.  The two stood in silence for a moment, just staring at each other.  

“...”

“...”

After a long moment, punctuated with labored breathing and more words exchanged through the eyes than could be described, the Iudex finally peeled his lips open to ask a final question. 

“Is it… really him?”

Furina let his words hang in the air for a moment before asking a question of her own, “Will knowing help you settle down while we wait?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, “but I feel so strongly that I must know.”

She chewed her lip contemplatively, weighing both options in her head.  Before she could decide, the lock on the door quietly clicked open in the tensely blanketed room outside of the infirmary.

The door opened with the knowing creak of old, heavy metal.  The pitter patter of little steps on the dark floor seemed to snap Neuvillette out of the little stance he was in with Furina.   He surged towards the door like a bullet, almost tripping over himself and almost knocking Siegewinne over in his haste.  

He couldn’t quite remember what all happened in the intermission.  Things like fumbling over questions, getting answers he couldn’t remember anymore were plucked out of his mind like the petals of a dying flower.  

Yes, your condition was stable.  

No, you could not consume solid food seeing as you’d just taken your medication.  (Much to Furina’s dismay, she had brought some of your favorite pastries. ) 

No, you would not be taken off of bedrest anytime soon. 

But yes, despite it all, you were in proper condition to accept visitors.  

He didn’t know what he was expecting to see beyond the closed metal door, but it wasn’t what he actually ended up seeing.  This wasn’t how he remembered you.  But it also was too close of a resemblance to assert that you were someone else or even an imposter wearing your skin. 

‘Such dull eyes, such pale skin…’

He toyed with the cuff of his sleeve.  Unconsciously, he found himself gritting his teeth, standing in the open doorway while he waited for you to acknowledge him.  He was reluctant to disturb the tranquil stillness that settled over your room.  He was afraid that if he moved or spoke, something would happen.  Something would crack and the illusion of your return would shatter and scatter into a million pieces on the floor.  

But the way your eyes lit up in recognition, the strained smile set on your face,  it was starting to sink in that you really weren’t gone forever.  You were right there, you were breathing, and you were alive against all odds.  “Neuvillette? Is that really you?”  Sweetly, the skin at the corners of your eyes crinkled, “You really made the trip to the Fortress just to visit me?” 

He could feel himself getting choked up at the sound of your voice, as rasped and painful as it sounded.  No matter how grating it would’ve been to anyone else, it was as soothing and melodic as a chorus of angels.  Even as he swallowed the spit clogging his airway, he still struggled to speak,  “Of course I did.”

“...”

“...Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

“...”

“...”

Carefully, he tugged the heavy door closed behind him.  He sat in the rather uncomfortable folding chair positioned at the side of your cot, nails digging little smiles into his palm even through his gloves.   What was once comfortable silence thickened and lay over your heads like a thick fog.  

Eventually, the sharp-edge of your voice cut through the mistlike tension like a blade, “Neuvillette, I have a question.” 

“What’s wrong?” Immediately, it felt like he was on the defensive.  The Iudex could not ascertain why, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood anxiously. 

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured, weakly clearing your throat, “I’m just curious about something.” 

Your words did little to quell his worries, but still, he nodded his head as if they did.  “What is it?”

Your limp arms rose from the bed, fingers weakly and clumsily fidgeting with one another.  “...Did you wait for me?” 

“Hm, I suppose I did.” 

It seemed his answer only caused your thumbs to twiddle more aggressively where they lay, “Well… Why?”

He went to answer, but like they seemed to be doing more and more today, they caught in his throat on the way out.  

Why had he waited? 

Had he meant to wait? 

Or was that just a product of his incessant work schedule?

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, just barely nipping at the skin with elongated fangs.  Ultimately, he settled for answering as truthfully as he possibly could, “...I didn’t see any reason to seek anyone else.” 

Your thumbs stopped fidgeting, fingers interlocking, “What do you mean?  Did  you not fear being alone?” 

He tilted his head to the side, “Did you ever fear being alone?” 

“...”

His body posture seemed to relax, “I had enough when I was with you, there was never any longing for something I felt I could not have again.”  

“That is…” You trailed off.  It seemed the words were lost in translation as you went to finish your thought.  The same tense silence settled between the two of you once more. 

“...”

“...”

“You… aren’t upset with me?”

The Iudex looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.  “What in the world could I be upset over?”

You averted eye contact, “I lied to you.  I told you I would not survive and then I turn up again as sick as a dog without much to show for it.” 

Neuvillette frowned himself, “You aren’t giving yourself enough credit.  You and Lady Furina managed to fool the Heavenly Principles and save the entirety of Fontaine, is that not something to be proud of?  Do you value your sacrifice so little?” 

“Of course I value my sacrifice!”  You countered, indignant.  Still, your voice lowered to little more than a murmur as you managed to spit out, “I’m afraid I just seem to value you more than that entirely.” 

His eyes, always imperceptibly sharp, seemed to soften just a little bit. 

“You might not realize, but while time seemed to pass here and things changed, giving up my physical body to maintain the seal on the Primordial Sea meant I was stuck without any senses.  It was such an incredibly lonely existence,”  Your eyes trained on your lap, “I did not expect to survive, and I was sure that even if I did survive, it wouldn’t be for long.  To be able to sit here even a month later is more than I allowed myself to hope for.”

“...”

“...So why is it that I feel that was a lie?”  Why is it that I hoped you would wait for me and I would be able to see you again?” Your expression dropped even further, “Why is it that I am still hoping you hold some kind of affection for me, even if I know it would be entirely foolish to love a man you expected to never see again?” 

“...”

“...”

Tentatively, his hand reached out to rest on top of your interlocked hands.  

You looked up to meet his gaze. 

“...If I still did?” 

You laughed, as forced as it sounded, “I would call you a fool.  A fool who is in love with a man that will likely take eons to recover, and even if I did manage to recover, I would only manage to remain a hollow shell of who I was.” 

His lips pulled into a tight line,  “I think you are the fool for once.”

You frowned. 

“You provide me with a feeling of wholeness that I have the inability to find with anyone else.  Whether you are the same as you used to be or weaker, bedbound, whatever you wish to call yourself, I will never be able to find that feeling with another.”  He squeezed your hands in his,  “You are indispensable, so fret not.  No matter how long you take to recover, I shall stay by your side every step of the way.”

there's a note attached to the side of the phone booth, read it?

" writers block tried to get me but it didn't work 💯💯💯 "

This is the longest its ever taken me to update I start banging my head against the wall

Constantly conflicted about writing and then feeling sad about not writing and suddenly, oh shit college !

I will say that once I fall into a rhythm updates will definitely become regular again but probably not as quick as they used to be. I fear I am no longer the man that can black out and publish 7.5k words of smut and or gay hurt/comfort every other day.

Aside from that I am good and well!!! Expect some more content from me in less than a month from now

I was considering doing a 200 follower special, but I fear that has been pushed off the table in favor of focusing on the long-form book I've been brewing up and planning.

Of course, I'll still be writing the requests I have in the queue, but the updates will probably be staggered with updates for the long form book

thank you, god bless 💯💯

- love, operator t-19

[504py]

Scalding-Hot Steel - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

He finally lets you try on his armor.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!! 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏 i got caught in a bit of a slump, but i hope this can make up for it, and that this was worth the wait!! the chapter after this might be the finale, so i may take even longer to get to it. nonetheless, thank you to everyone who's been reading till now, and thank you all for 600 followers!!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, Leon is a total puppy, mutual pining.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You're unsure what it was, but following that interaction at the library, you and Leon have grown closer.

This upgrade in your relationship has made you be able to relax more in his presence, now that you see him as more friend than foe. Well, to call him a foe was a gargantuan exaggeration, but you did find him intimidating. You still do sometimes.

Even if you've backed off and retired your old obsessive habit of being way too observant about every single little detail about Leon, you can't help but still notice how it seems like your roles have been swapped.

Leon has begun to follow you around like a dog, to put it simply.

You swear it's not just you fixating on him, you really have started seeing him around much more often. He's started waiting by your door to greet you a good morning with a small smile, before heading to the courtyard. During lunchtime, he's begun to engage in smalltalk with you, talking about mundane things like the weather, or your schedule for the day. He's especially chatty if he learns he's going to be part of it. At night, when his usual routine would be to simply see you off at your bedroom door and say goodnight, now he sits by your bedside and talks about anything 'till it lulls you to sleep. He'd be mortified if you knew how long he stayed after you've dozed off.

Leon has begun studying you, in return. He likes to think that he's observant, but that usually only applies to combat, or if he's been trained beforehand on the matter. With people, he's never really had much luck reading them, unless it's too obvious for it to even be called "observing."

Leon admires that about you, how keen your eyes always are. He wonders if you're as drawn into his quirks as he is with yours. If you were, he envies your ability to drink in information so tactfully. If the devil were in the details– in your details, Leon would love to become a sinner.

His attempts in learning more about you were painfully amateurish. Even if Leon were a great tutor, a great protector, a great fighter, he tends to be terrible at holding conversation.

"My lady–"

"I told you to stop calling me that." You sigh and roll your eyes playfully.

"Sorry." He huffs your name bashfully, drawing closer towards you. You look up at him, and he drinks in the sight before you're squinting slightly at the rays of sun attacking you from behind his head.

"Please step into the shade, milady." He insists, holding his hand out for you to place yours on, before leading you underneath a large tree.

"There you are again, Sir Leon." You laugh, resting your back against the smooth bark of the tree.

"Hey, I asked you to forgo the titles as well." He muses, noticing you were still straining your eyes slightly, so he steps in front of the sun. It makes your face relax, and once again, he realizes keeping you happy and protecting you brings him fulfillment like no other.

"Just doing the same as you are, Sir Leon, since you won't drop mine." Chuckling, you sit down on the plush grass and wait for him to follow.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh, setting down the picnic basket in front of you. Leon wants to sit beside you, but then his back wouldn't be there to shield you from the sun. He sits where he is.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He says, almost jokingly. Saying your name out loud makes him feel shy, like saying the name of a god. It feels almost forbidden to be molded by his tongue, but you always invite him to say it, and the intimacy makes his heart race every single time he dares to. He mumbles it quietly again, getting a high from it.

You look beautiful. He thought that from the day he first met you, but the closer you two have gotten, the more and more he finds himself thinking that, and even more does it make his heart ache in his chest. In the shade under this tree, windy summer day illuminating the soft curves of your face so enchantingly, Leon can't help but look like a bit of an idiot drinking the sight in.

"Are you feeling hot?"

His eyes look at your lips first, ears registering your voice second. He closes his mouth, realizing it's been hanging slightly agape.

"I, uh, no– no, I'm feeling alright, my–"

You tilt your head down, and send him a playful warning glare. He stops in his tracks and looks down for a second, smiling breathily.

"I'm alright."

"Really? Your head tilts to the right this time, and Leon's heart skips a beat at how adorable he finds the gesture. "That armor you're wearing looks pretty hot. Can't you take it off?"

"It's only chainmail." He reassures, taking off his helmet and combing a hand through his flattened hair, "The helmet is a little troublesome, though."

You chirp, "I can imagine." before you open up the picnic basket in front of you and start rummaging through it.

Leon watches you munch on some biscuits for a bit, before his eyes flit back to the helmet by his side. "...Some time ago, you said you had wanted to try on my armor."

He says this mid-chew, so you hurry to get your food down so you can respond, "Oh, you remembered?" You wipe away a few crumbs from your lip, Leon finds the act charming, and it makes him smile softly. You continue, "Mm, yes, I did. Why bring it up?"

"Well," Leon holds up his helmet, "Would you like to try it on now?"

The way your eyes light up can't help but force a boyish, giddy grin on Leon's face. It feels strange and his cheeks feel weird, he can't really remember the last time he's smiled this hard. It does scare him a little, how foreign it is, but the feeling is so, so welcomed.

"Of course! Are you joking?" You put the snacks in your hands away, and move the basket to the side so you can inch closer to Leon. The feeling of your legs touching make butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"I-I'm not– I–" He's sputtering and he finds his brain struggling to function at being so flustered.

"Calm down, Leon." You laugh heartily. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, but with how darn observant you are, he's sure that you're well aware what you do to him. It makes his cheeks burn red and glare at you with a kittenish frown. He wishes he could be more suave about his feelings towards you.

"I will once you stop making me so flustered." Leon huffs, hoping that wasn't too bold of a thing to say. His cheeks burn deeper. His eyebrows lower at your surprised look.

"Do I now?"

"W-Well– See, you're doing it again!" Leon groans, letting go of his helmet to hide his flushed face in his broad hands and whine. His ears turn red at the sound of your hearty laugh.

"Well, it's only fair that I do it to you too."

"Too?"

Your face warms, realizing what you've revealed. Leon grins, elated at the mere implication that he makes you feel the same way.

"Y-You've noticed, haven't you? In the library, you asked why I felt so uncomfortable around you."

"You didn't exactly answer... I thought it was because you disliked me."

"...Now you know that I clearly don't. We get along rather well, don't we?"

He's beaming at you, and it's not just the sun shining on him, it looks like he's literally glowing with serenity and love.

"We do, my lady."

"Leon!" You interject him calling you by your formal title.

He can't seem to let the title go, because in his mind, it's more of a pet name than a title. A term of endearment. Leon clings to the "my" part of the title, he liked the tiniest hint that you could be his. My lady, my lover, my sweetheart, mine.

Leon giggles, and he pauses for a moment after, realizing he can't remember the last time he's let out such a noise. He gazes upon you in awe, amazed at how you were able to bring out this side of him.

"What is it?"

Leon blinks, getting drawn out of his haze and shaking his head dismissively. He keeps his soft gaze on you, though.

The pads of his fingers rest on his helmet, feeling the ridges of it. Maybe it was too rough for someone he deemed as delicate as you. His eyes lower and rest on the piece of armor, noting how it's covered in scratches and dents, how it isn't so shiny as he'd like for it to be. It washed over him like a small wave of shame, thinking it not worthy for someone of your standing to don. Not even socially, but the standing that you held within his mind and his heart. Leon never thought he'd be insecure over such a trivial thing.

"So... Can I try it on, my good Sir?"

Leon lets out a little snort at what you call him, freezing and making an embarrassed face at the undignified noise, but then he he sees how happy it makes you– perhaps how happy he himself makes you, and he feels at ease.

"Yes, of course, Your Royal Highness."

You playfully slap his bicep at the absurd title. "I am not royalty!"

"You are to me." He mutters as he adjusts his sitting position, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

He's kneeling in front of you, being mindful of your hair or anything on your clothing the helmet could snag on, gently lowering it before the hard metal rests on the top of your skull.

Leon sits back down, and can't help a cheesy, tight-lipped smile when he sees how awkwardly it fits you. It's crooked, and it simply is too rugged in contrast to your usual attire and demeanor.

"...How is it?"

"Wow, I can barely see. This is amazing!" Your hands rest on the sides of the helmet to try and stabilize it, yet it still tips over off balance after adjusting. Leon lets out a snort, and this time, he's only half-embarrassed.

"How do you fight in this? I can't see anything."

Leon wordlessly pulls the visor up. His heart pounds at the sight of your flushed face and messy hair.

"Ohh. What if an arrow lands in my face, though?"

"I can assure you, you won't be getting into that sort of situation anytime soon."

"You seem very sure of yourself, Leon."

"Of course, it's my duty to protect you."

"...Do you enjoy it?"

"What? Protecting you?"

You nod, "Yes."

"I look forward to it every day."

The two of you share a wide smile, beaming at the intimacy of this interaction, and you two have never felt closer. I want to kiss you, is all Leon can think about.

Right as he was mindlessly leaning in, you let out a small laugh for whatever reason, and Leon is forever grateful that you do, because it snaps him out of his trance, and he feels so stupid for trying to make a move on you.

"That's good. I don't think armor suits me very much anyways." You clumsily take his helmet off of your head, and rest it by your hip.

"I'm glad to have you protecting me, Leon. I'm so happy to have you by my side every day, not even as a knight, but as a companion." You say this so demurely, looking down at your lap with a cherubic expression on your face that has his heart pounding in his strong chest.

Then, you just had to look up at him, and meet his lovestruck stare, and maybe he's gone crazy from how flustered he's been all day, but he swears he can see the same look in your eyes.

Leon throws out whatever he was last thinking straight out the window, encases your wrists in his hands, and kisses you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[theesterianempire]

I'm Okay, Really - Spencer Reid x Y/N - Part One

You’re okay, really, aside from a lack of concentration, not sleeping, not eating, striving for perfection but always falling short.

You’re okay… really…

This is a Criminal Minds rewrite of a Flash fan fiction I posted to Ao3 a good five years ago.  If you have read the original, I promise it’s not stolen, it is my work.  Also, if you have read it, this one is quite different, even if it starts off in a similar manner.  If you want to read it you can find it on Ao3 under els_fictions with the same title.

Trigger Warning: Eating disorders, anorexia, calorie counting, calorie tracking, bulimia and other eating disorders, fainting, hospitals.

Word count: 1633

Chapter One

“Y/N......?”

“Y/N.....?"

“I uh what?” You asked sheepishly looking up to see Hotch looking over you.

“Have you finished the Jenkins Report yet?” He enquired with a stern face.

“I... yes... here it is.” You said handing a folder to him.

You rubbed the back of his neck nervously as Hotch started flipping through the report.

He then looked up sighing..

“Y/N this is shocking." Stated Singh.

“What?” You asked confused as to what was wrong with it.

“It’s littered with so many errors. Now do it again. I want it by tonight”.

Hotch walked off.

Great you thought. No lunch for me.

About half an hour later Spencer walked over to your desk.

"Hey Y/N,” he spoke cheerily, "You coming for lunch?" He asked.

You didn't even look up from your computer.

"I'm sorry, I can't I've got to re-do a report for Hotch." You replied.

“Oh… okay…” He responded, “Do you want any help?”

“No. Its fine.” You brushed him off, “Thank you though.”

“Any time," Smiled Spencer as he left.

You sighed running his hand through your hair. You couldn't concentrate and your hair was slightly matted with sweat.

The evening soon came around and you still wasn’t done.  There was no way you could stop for dinner now.  Hotch needed this file.  It was important.

The next day followed a similar pattern. You were half awake at work. Hotch asked you to re do a case file. You would go without lunch and then again without dinner.

The day after was the same. Soon the week was the same. Then the month. It wasn’t long before you just didn’t feel hungry anymore so you didn’t care that much. Eventually Hotch started to lay off but even then you didn’t go back to eating normally. After another month of this you almost stopped completely. You weren’t hungry so why should you eat is what you told yourself.

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you there?” Asked Garcia over the phone, “Y/N? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here,” You replied. You were leaning on a wall for support after almost fainting but you were fine. You knew you were.

“Ok.” Garcia responded skeptically, “Well, I’ve sent the information you need to the iPad.”

“Okay, thank you Garcia,” You smiled ending the call before walking back into the office where the team was set up.

“Y/N, did you speak to Garcia?” Emily asked, stepping towards you.

“Yeah… She uh… she…” Fog clouded your brain as you tried to respond.

You moved your hand to rub your face.

“She uh… She…” You tried again.

“Y/N?” Emily called, “Are you okay?”

You moved your hand from over your face and looked up but the world was tilting around you.  However, as you braced to inevitably hit the floor the impact never came.  Instead you felt the warm embrace of someone next to you as you were quickly rushed to the couch a few feet behind you.

You went to look up at the team but a strong hand was on your back, forcing you to keep your head between your legs.

“Just breathe.” You heard Spencer command… so it was him next to you, you realised.

After another minute you felt your brain fog lift and the dizziness leave you.

You slowly looked up.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked from where she stood across the room.

“I… yeah.” You muttered, “Anyway, Garcia sent the info she found to the iPad.  It looks like Jacob’s is a match.”

“Okay.  Lets bring him in,” Hotch commanded looking to Morgan, Emily and JJ.

You went to stand up but Hotch quickly turned to you,

“You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, “You are to stay here until we get back.”

“But Hotch I…” You tried to argue.

“That’s an order, Y/L/N.” He said before leaving the room.

You sighed as Emily shrugged apologetically at you before leaving the room followed by Morgan and JJ.

Spencer stood up slowly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said quietly, “But we’ll be back soon.”

You nodded gently as he left with the rest of the team.

Once you were alone you were over come with a crushing sense of frustration.  You angrily ran your hands through your hair, tugging at it slightly.  How could you be so stupid? How could you be so weak in front of all of them?  You were better than this.

It didn’t take long for the team to return, Jacob in tow.  It was a pretty simple case once you’d gotten hold of his name from an old assistant of his.  Then with the information Garcia gave you it was easy to track him down along with a plethora of evidence that he was stupid enough to leave lying around his house.

Before you knew it you were landing back in Virginia, making your way back to the bull pen.  It was just a quick stop before you could get in your car and drive home.  However, just as you were picking up your keys from your desk, Hotch called out to you.

“Y/N, my office, now.” His tone was stern,

You briefly looked around at the rest of the team but none of them would meet your eyes. You felt a horrible sense of dread bubbling up inside of you as you made your way up to his office.

You entered his office and slowly closed the door behind you.  He was sitting behind his desk, he didn’t even look at you as you sat down opposite him.  Nor did he glance up from his paperwork as he began talking.

“Y/N, I’ve arranged for a physical to determine whether you are fit to be on this team.” He stated simply,

“What?” You snapped, “Hotch, I…”

Hotch looked up at you.

“In the field you’ve been slipping.  You’ve been disorganised and unfocused which having a negative impact on the team.  Until the physical you are written off on sick leave, following that until you are deemed fit to be in the field you will be assigned desk duty.” He explained bluntly.

“But Hotch…” You tried to argue but he cut you off.

“You’ll be emailed the details of when and where the physical will take place.” 

You went to say something but he cut you off yet again.

“That will be all Y/N.” He said, gesturing to the door.

You wanted to argue, to plead your case but it was pointless, you knew that, so instead you just stood up and made your way out.

You made your way through the bull pen, snatching your keys from the desk, not even stopping when Emily called out your name.

You were out of the building when it all caught up to you, tears welled up in your eyes and began cascading down your cheeks.

You stopped, letting yourself sit down on the steps as you sobbed uncontrollably.

“Y/N?” A voice called out to you, as someone sat down next to you.

You quickly wiped your eyes before turning to see Spencer next to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his voice wavering slightly for a reason you weren’t privy to.

“I’m fine, Spencer.” You assured, wiping away more tears.

“You don’t look fine, Y/N.” He replied, “You haven’t looked fine in ages.” He added barely above a whisper.

You snapped to look at him, “Whats that supposed to mean?” You shot back, vitriol thick in your voice.

“Y/N, I…” He began but you stood up.

You barely glanced at him, “Goodbye Spencer.” You spoke coldly as you made your way down the steps and towards your parked car.

You were halfway home when the anger faded and you were left with a deeper feeling of self-hatred, if that was even possible.  You would have cried if you had the energy to do so but right now all you wanted was your bed.

As you entered your apartment you felt that unwelcome grumble deep in your stomach.  You considered all of your options, you could ignore it and sleep… but sleep was unlikely due to that annoying grumble.  You could eat something for the first time in a few days… but that wasn’t helpful, it would undo all of your hard work and right now you needed to be more in control than ever before… you could have some coffee… but… actually, no… coffee was good. That would work.

You set a pot to brew while you prepared your mug and got the Splenda out of the cupboard.  All of this on auto pilot, it was habit by now, feel that grumble, make a coffee, feel sad, make a coffee, feel happy, make a coffee.  It was a coping mechanism really.

You poured your coffee and made your way to your room.  You debated showering but you really didn’t have the energy so you threw on your pyjamas before settling into bed.  You went to set your alarms before you realised there was no point.  It wasn’t like you had anywhere to be the next day anyway.  You placed your phone on the side and picked up your notebook from just next to it.

You flipped to the most recent entry and dotted down your coffee and how much Splenda you’d put in it before closing it and settling back against your pillows, coffee in hand and you just sat there, sipping away, enjoying the warmth that spread through you with every swallow.

Before you knew it you’d finished your coffee.  You placed your mug on the side, enjoying the lingering warmth it left you with.  You let your eyes close for just a second but soon enough a dreamless sleep enveloped you.

Part Two:

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)

cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)

wc: 1.2k

notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)

previous chapters: part 1

You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.

After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.

You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.

"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."

You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.

You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."

Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.

"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."

"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"

Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."

Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."

"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 

This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.

"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.

You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.

"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"

He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."

"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."

He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."

You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"

He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"

"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 

You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.

"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."

"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."

"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."

You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."

"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.

Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.

You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.

Rafe: of course, goodnight

You: goodnight

Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 

As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

part 3

likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe

[wwilsonbarness]

hello? Mr. Pickle?

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky struggles with modern technology, especially autocorrect. 

warnings: none, pure fluff 

word count: 495

a/n: When I was writing i can’t do this anymore my autocorrect changed doll to dill and so this was born - also my first drabble? Huge thanks to @hopelessromantic423 for the title suggestion <33

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist 

From across the room you could hear your phone vibrating so you made a mental note to check it once you finish this chapter of your book. It buzzed again and you debated going over to it but you only had two pages left. Then it buzzed 3 more times, straight after each other. This was when you decided it must be important so you got up and started walking over. It buzzed another two times as you walked over and you started to panic, it could’ve been an emergency. When you saw the messages on your screen you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was Bucky who was messaging you. 

Buck

I’m just leaving. What do you want for dinner dill?  dill** dill** This stupid fucking phone. DILL** DILL DILL** Fuck sake I’m phoning you 

You only just finish reading the last message when your phone begins to ring and you try to compose your laughter enough to answer. 

“Hey Buck, or should I say Mr Pickle?” 

“Ha Ha.” He replies sarcastically, “I take it you seen my texts. Stupid phone never works.” 

“It’s just not used to your 40’s lingo babe.” You teased, you were always kidding with him about how much of an old man he was. Not in the way of his literal age but the way he lived, he hated using new technology, he hated social media, and you don’t even want to think back on the time you tried to make him watch a reality show. He tried liking all the modern parts of the world but he missed the old days where things were a lot simpler. He was just glad he had you to help him through it. 

“Yeah well it’s lucky I didn’t throw it out the car.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of “piece of crap” and it makes you giggle. “It’s not funny doll.” 

“It’s kinda funny.” 

“I hate you.” He jokes. 

“No you don’t.” You manage to reply through your laughter. 

“You’re right I don’t. So what do you want for dinner?”

You take a second to think, “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.” 

“I could do a cheeseburger, I’m near that burger place anyways.” 

“Could you get some fries too? Oh! And a milkshake? The one with the oreo pieces? Please.” He couldn’t see but your pouty lip had come out. 

“Anything you want doll.” 

“Thanks babe, how long do you think you’ll be?”

“Should be like 20 minutes, do you wanna watch something while we eat?” 

“You read my mind! I’ll set it up in time for you coming home.” 

“Okay, won’t be long. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Bucky’s about to hang up before you quickly start speaking again. “Bucky?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you get me extra pickles on my burger?” 

You hear him scoff a little then laugh, “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Byeee.” You trail off until the call ends. You were never gonna let him live this one down.

[warping-realities]

2k Special - Coach Knows Best: BACS

Hey folks, this is the third chapter of the 2k special. Speaking of special, I gotta give a shoutout to my buddy @johnbrand who once again lent me one of his concepts to help me level up my story. If you’ve read his work, you probably know what concept I’m talking about just by the chapter title. If you haven’t checked it out yet, you gotta read his amazing work along with the equally awesome @mrrharper. For those of you who’ve been around for a while, you’ll catch some throwback references in both stories, but you can totally enjoy them either way.

While the leaves were falling on the well-kept grounds of Oakwood High, mid-season arrived and the Titans football team was riding high. They were about to face one of their big rivals, the Cougars, in a showdown that promised to be epic. Everything seemed perfect until one morning, when Coach Steele received an unexpected visit. The door swung open, and a sharply dressed man entered, wearing a condescending expression and a smile that seemed forced. Mr. Jenkins, a man Steele knew wasn't exactly a friend.

“Oh, Coach Steele! What a pleasure to see you! The team is doing incredibly well this season, right?” Jenkins began, his voice dripping with subtle sarcasm.

“Yeah, we’re pretty happy with how the boys are performing,” Steele replied, keeping his tone neutral but with a hint of tension in his voice. He knew it was best not to let the animosity show.

“Only Larson and Thornton have outmatched your success story. You’ve really outdone yourself, Steele,” Jenkins continued, giving a light pat on the coach's back, which Steele merely nodded at, refusing to fall for the flattery.

“Thanks, but we know success is a result of the hard work from the players and the coaching staff,” Steele replied, his words laced with half-truths but also a touch of disdain due to Jenkins's attitude, who was well aware of some of the means employed by Steele and the other mentioned coaches, as he was, after all, a member of the shady board that governed those transformations to ensure a constant influx of young players for the colleges and was always hungry for more.

The board member tilted his head, as if evaluating Steele's response. “That's true, but you know the board is always looking for ways to support the team, especially when success is in sight. We’re here to ensure that all necessary resources are available,” Jenkins said, his tone now insinuating that he had other interests in mind.

“If the board were really interested in supporting the team, we’d have more resources and less bureaucracy,” Steele shot back, his gaze steady. “But let’s get to the point. What do you really want here, Jenkins? Don’t tell me this visit is just to compliment my work.”

Jenkins smiled, but not genuinely. “You’re perceptive, Steele. Actually, the reason I’m here is to discuss the team’s upcoming goals and the need to ensure everything is in order for the rest of the season. We know the pressure is mounting, and expectations are high.”

“High expectations are part of the job, and we didn’t need you to remind us of that,” Steele responded, his voice carrying a touch of indignation. He had no patience for Jenkins's arrogance.

“Of course, of course! But you know how it works, right? To maintain the level of success, we need to ensure that all aspects are covered. The board is here to help, but we also need assurances that you’re committed to maintaining that high standard,” Jenkins continued, his posture becoming more authoritative.

Steele took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I believe I’ve made it clear that my commitment to this team is unshakeable.”

“Without a doubt, sure… Still, there seems to be a strange gap, so to speak, in your group, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Oh, but it’s something right in front of you, or should I say at the end?” said the man, laughing at his own joke as Steele frowned. This couldn't be what he was thinking.

“Be clear, Jenkins.”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, sometimes I get carried away with my middle-school humor. I’m referring, of course, to your Tight End. Tyler Dawson. The kid is decent and clearly trying hard, but he’s not up to par with what you’ve got in the rest of the offense. Trey Mathews, Connor Walsh, Adam Trent, Brock Bennet, Gabe Brackman, and Brad Williams form a cohesive and unstoppable unit, and you still have the Sanchez twins flying in to catch all the balls. So I wonder how a man like you lets someone mediocre like Dawson play on this team?”

“Dawson isn’t mediocre; he’s an excellent player and the brother of Lee Dawson, who you surely remember plays the same position for a college team.”

“Lee is an amazing player, I must agree, but unfortunately, the brother doesn’t seem to be on the same level as him, and you should have noticed that some time ago. Added to certain things I’ve been hearing around the halls… I’m concerned…”

“What things would those be?”

“That the kid isolates himself, doesn’t go to team events, that maybe he’s… gay.”

“And what would be the problem with his sexuality?”

“None, of course, as long as it’s in the board’s interest to have someone like that heading to the NFL, which given the current political climate is quite unlikely. But you’re dodging my questions, Steele. Why hasn’t Dawson been improved? With you having played in that position yourself, I imagined you wanted someone who was an absolute standout to fill it!

Coach Steele let out a long sigh before responding.

“Because of Lee. I’ve trained Lee since day one, and my greatest pride was the fact that I didn’t have to use any shady methods to make the kid shine, just good old natural talent combined with a lot of practice, as it was with me and so many others before the board opened the door to the advanced enhancement methods so many years ago. But I digress. Lee is a smart kid, much smarter than people give him credit for. Almost four years ago, on the day he left for college, he came to me and said that Tyler would try out for the team and that he trusted me to do for his brother what I did for him. The right way. I have no idea how much Lee knows about our… alternative methods. But he made me promise that his brother would remain the same, and I’ve kept that promise ever since.”

“Who would have thought that the old brute would have a heart? A commendable attitude, truly commendable. However, I fear that such a promise will have to be broken.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Board has decided to reactivate the BACS protocol, and Tyler was chosen for the demonstration, I’m sorry Steele.”

“You must be joking with me!”

“Unfortunately not, you and I don’t always agree, but I can say that after hearing you, I understand your reasons; unfortunately, that doesn’t change anything, orders come from above, and we must obey.”

“But does it have to be BACS? I can fix Tyler in a more subtle way; besides, the glitches, Lee might notice something!”

“Unfortunately, it’s a risk we run. I don’t think BACS is the best solution either, but orders are orders. I can leave you out of the demonstration if you prefer.”

“No, I’ll accompany the kid all the way. It’s the least I can do.”

….

Tyler adjusted his cap while entering the locker room, the familiar aroma of sweat and deodorant welcoming him as always. He looked around, watching the other players getting ready for another day of practice. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and teasing, an energy pulsing with the camaraderie the team cultivated. But for Tyler, all of it felt a bit distant. He felt like a spectator in a show that wasn’t his.

While the players joked about who made the best touchdown in the previous practice, Tyler stepped back a bit, focusing on his routine. He knew his teammates were competent and dedicated, but the jokes and the way they teased each other made him uncomfortable. Tyler always found their antics somewhat immature, but he didn’t want to be the type of guy who ruins the fun. So he preferred to remain silent, listening to the laughter echoing while he prepared for practice.

He sat on a bench, putting on his cleats and listening to the conversations float around him. Rafael and Miguel were in a corner, making jokes about everyone, while Trey, the most extroverted teammate, was telling a funny story about a sexual conquest. Tyler smiled to the others, but the truth was he didn’t feel part of those conversations. There was a certain apprehension in his heart, a fear that if he tried to get involved, the truth about his feelings might be revealed.

He looked in the mirror, seeing his reflection. He was a good player but he always felt like he was a step behind the others in terms of skill. The pressure to stand out made him anxious, and the idea of not meeting his teammates’ expectations consumed him. Moreover, there was something else that worried him: the attraction he felt towards some of them. He didn’t know how to deal with that, especially in an environment that seemed so filled with raw machismo. The fear of being rejected or ridiculed for his feelings isolated him even more.

As he prepared, Tyler remembered how he got to this point. Since he was little, he had always been passionate about football, but the difficulty in fitting in made him feel like an outsider. Now, in his final season, he found himself trapped between the need to stand out as an athlete and the internal struggle of accepting who he really was. He wanted to be part of the team, but the fear that his sexuality could be an obstacle kept him on the sidelines, watching instead of participating.

As the players got ready, Coach Steele watched closely, the expression on his face mixing determination with a hint of worry. But he had a task to fulfill, no matter how unpleasant it was. After a few minutes, he called Tyler over to talk.

“Tyler! Can you come here for a minute?” Steele said, gesturing for the young man to approach.

Tyler felt a chill in his stomach. He didn’t know if this was good or bad. “Yes, coach?” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’ve chosen you for something important. This weekend, we’ll have a meeting with some out-of-state football coaches, and I want you to come with me. I think this could be a great opportunity for you,” Steele said, his voice full of expectation.

Tyler was surprised. “Really, coach? I... I don’t know. Why would you choose me? I’m not as good as … well as everyone else…” His insecurity shone through his words. He felt like he had always been on a lower level than the rest of the team.

“Don’t think like that, Tyler. You have great potential. I see the effort you put into every practice, and that’s what matters. Don’t worry about comparisons. There’s a reason for this choice, and I want you to remember that,” Steele replied, with a strange look.

Tyler nodded, feeling a mix of happiness and anxiety. He knew this was a rare chance and he should seize it. “Thank you, coach. I’ll get ready!”

“Great! Now go change and join the practice. We’ll need you on the field,” Steele said before turning his attention back to the other players.

Tyler hurried to change, his heart pounding with new energy. He was excited, but doubt still lingered in his mind. As he dressed, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and tried to convince himself that he deserved to be there. “You got this, Tyler. It’s just football,” he murmured to himself.

On the field, Steele’s instructions echoed, and Tyler tried to focus. However, during breaks, the gossip and discussions about the trip and how amazing it would be distracted him. He heard his teammates commenting on other teams while some questioned why he had been chosen to accompany the Coach. The pressure to stand out grew, and Tyler began to feel insecurity creeping into his mind.

During practice, he made mistakes that left him frustrated. As he tried to position himself correctly, he lost focus and instead of blocking properly, he ended up leaving an open space multiple times an Connor the quaterback, who used to be so confident, suffered several sacks because of his failure. With each mistake, Steele's and his teammates' disapproving looks became more evident, and Tyler felt the weight of disappointment.

Finally, in a critical play, Tyler failed again, resulting in a fumble that the opposing team quickly turned into a touchdown. The silence that followed was deafening. Tyler froze, his mind spinning, unable to process what had just happened. The look from his teammates, usually friendly and upbeat, was now filled with disapproval and discontent.

“Tyler, to the bench, you’re not fit to continue today,” said a visibly disappointed Steele.

Feeling crushed, he walked away from the group, seeking a secluded spot on the field. He leaned against a wall, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to escape. “How did I let this happen?” he thought, the guilt weighing on his shoulders. He felt like a failure, a dead weight for the team that was counting on him.

As practice continued, he heard the voices of the other players blending together, but he couldn’t understand the words. All he felt was the pain of disappointment and a growing fear that if he couldn’t overcome this, he would never be accepted as part of the team. He wished he had the confidence of his teammates. But at that moment, all he felt was loneliness.

After practice ended, the players headed to the locker room, the atmosphere still tense after Tyler's mistakes. He felt like a burden, and the last thing he wanted was to face his teammates' gazes. Conversations about the upcoming game and the team's performance echoed around him, but Tyler was lost in his own thoughts, struggling against frustration and humiliation.

As soon as he entered the locker room, Tyler distanced himself from the group and quickly headed to the shower, determined to wash away the emotional weight he felt. He adjusted the water temperature and, instead of making it warm and comforting, decided that a cold shower was what he needed. As the cold water hit his skin, a shiver ran through his body, but he didn’t care. The cold was a necessary contrast to the storm of feelings enveloping him.

Meanwhile, his teammates tried to cheer him up, but their words only heightened Tyler's anguish. “Hey, T-Dawg! Don’t be like that, bro! You’re a fucking football player! There are definitely a bunch of girls wanting to hook up with you!” Trey shouted, laughing, as if that were the solution to Tyler’s problems. God he really hate that nickname!

“Yeah, dude! You gotta go out more, enjoy the fame! There are tons of girls at school who would go crazy for you!” Connor added, giving a wide smile. But each word felt like more pressure on Tyler, who knew he would never date any of those girls.

As the other guys continued to discuss the different girls at school, their conversations quickly turned into a competition of who could impress the girls more. They talked about who had the biggest cock, who had the best body, and who would make the best girlfriend while Tyler felt invisible. Their laughter and happiness only made him feel more isolated.

Taking advantage of the group’s distraction, Tyler decided it was the perfect moment to slip away unnoticed. He turned off the shower, dried off quickly, and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of pants. As soon as he felt at least somewhat decent, he peeked through the locker room door, watching his teammates still immersed in their superficial conversations.

With one last glance at the group, Tyler made a quick exit, avoiding any interaction. He headed to the parking lot, his heart racing but relieved to escape the locker room pressure. The freedom of the fresh air hit him like a balm, and although the anguish was still present, he felt a bit lighter, far from the expectations and the need to be something he wasn’t.

Tyler walked to his car, sitting in the driver’s seat. He let the steering wheel slip between his fingers, gazing at the school in the distance. What he really wanted was a place where he could be himself, away from the jokes and comparisons. If only there were a way to feel accepted, maybe he could find his own voice within that competitive world. Filled with anxiety, Tyler did what was his instinct in that kind of situation: called his brother, Lee, while the car engine purred softly. He always felt more at ease talking to Lee, especially in moments like this. Lee, the starting Tight End for the Virginia Tech football team, had always been a source of inspiration and support for Tyler, and he needed that now more than ever.

After a few rings, Lee's familiar and encouraging voice echoed on the other end of the line. “Hey, Tyler! How’s it going?”

Tyler sighed, relieved to hear his brother's voice. “Hey, Lee. Oh, you know how it is. Practicing, trying to fit in, but I’m feeling a little... out of place, I guess.”

“Out of place? Why?”

“Oh Lee, I messed up and made a bunch of rookie mistakes in practice today. I’m a… incompetent… a fraud!”

“Never say that, Tyler! You’re a good player; Steele would never put you on the field if it weren’t true! You have no reason to feel that way. The team needs you, and you’re doing a great job,” Lee replied, immediately trying to lift his brother's spirits. “Just keep pushing yourself. Remember that every player has their own time to shine.”

“I know, but everyone else seems so confident, and I... well, I don’t know if I’m good enough. Sometimes I feel like I’m just ‘Lee’s little brother’ and nothing more,” Tyler vented, his voice heavy with frustration.

“Hey, don’t think like that! You’re you, and that’s what matters. Coach Steele believes in you, and you need to trust him too. He knows what he’s doing. Soon, you’ll be in college, meeting new people and fitting into some group. You just need to give it time,” Lee encouraged, his voice full of conviction.

Tyler felt a little of the weight on his heart dissipate. “Yeah… you’re right. I just need to keep working hard and, if all goes well, maybe I can finally feel like part of the team.”

Lee chuckled lightly. “And don’t forget, next year I’ll be graduated, and you won’t have to worry about facing me on the field. I just have to worry about not getting tackled by you when we’re both in the NFL!” he joked, making Tyler laugh for the first time since he left the locker room.

“Ah, that would be a nightmare, having to face you! But seriously, I really appreciate you always being there for me, Lee. You’re the best.”

“That’s what brothers are for, right? Now go out there and show them what you’re made of. I’m rooting for you, Tyler. And don’t forget to keep me updated on everything. I want to hear about your accomplishments, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll do that. Thanks, Lee. You always know how to cheer me up,” Tyler replied, feeling renewed by the conversation.

After hanging up, Tyler felt a new wave of determination. He knew he still had a long way to go, but with his brother’s support and the certainty that the future held new opportunities, he felt a bit stronger. With one last look at the school, he turned on the car and decided he would return for the day’s classes, determined to give his best, regardless of the insecurities that haunted him.

….

On Saturday morning, Tyler felt more excited than he had in recent days. The practices had gone much more smoothly, and the absence of a game the night before left him relieved. He had the chance to focus, improve, and prepare for the next challenge. Everything seemed promising, and the conversation with Lee still resonated in his mind, giving him an extra boost.

When he arrived at the airport where he would board for the trip, Tyler was surprised by the opulence of the private area. Luxurious jets were parked side by side, and the reception was filled with well-uniformed staff, ready to cater to the whims of the passengers. He had never been in a place like that before and felt a bit out of place, yet enchanted by it all.

While he waited, Coach Steele approached him, his serious gaze softened by a slight smile. “Tyler, good to see you. Are you ready for the trip?” he asked, with a firmness that always instilled confidence in the young man.

“Yes, coach! I’m excited!” Tyler replied, trying to hide the anxiety still lingering.

“Great. I want you to know that this is an important opportunity for you”Steele said, placing a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, guiding him toward the jet.

Tyler nodded, although he felt a twinge of nervousness. “I know, coach. I’m trying to soak up everything I can,” he commented as he entered the aircraft. The interior of the jet was even more impressive than the exterior, with luxurious leather seats, ample space, and even a small entertainment area.

As they settled in, Steele turned to Tyler, interested in learning more about him. “So, Tyler, how are you feeling about the team and football? What are your plans for the future?” Steele asked, trying to engage the player in a more meaningful conversation.

Tyler smiled, feeling valued to have the coach’s attention. “I’m feeling good, coach! I want to keep working hard, and if all goes well, I hope to get a scholarship for college. I’m thinking about following Lee’s path; I know my chances of going pro are slim, but I’m thinking about studying something related to sports, maybe even becoming a coach like you!” he replied, excited to share his dreams.

“That’s excellent, Tyler. You have a great future ahead of you. The important thing is to keep dedicating yourself and not let difficulties discourage you,” Steele said, his serious yet encouraging look making Tyler feel at ease.

As they talked, Tyler didn’t notice the strange and heavy glances Steele was casting at him. Steele was genuinely interested in the kid's aspirations, but he also felt conflicted. He knew the board’s pressure to reactivate the BACS protocol still loomed over him, and the thought of what was about to happen to Tyler left him uneasy. The young player was filled with hopes and dreams, and Steele wondered for the first time in a long time if he had made the right choices throughout his career. Then the kid went and stomped on his heart.

“I really appreciate your support, coach. That means a lot to me,” Tyler said, his radiant smile reflecting his determination.

“Thanks, Tyler. Remember that you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to make sure you succeed,” Steele replied, trying to hide the concern that consumed him.

As the jet landed next to a large sports complex, Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed. The structure was imposing, with training fields, courts, and state-of-the-art facilities. He disembarked the plane alongside Coach Steele, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. As they walked towards the main building, the air was charged with energy and anticipation.

As they entered, they were greeted by a sharply dressed man who emanated an aura of authority. It was Mr. Jenkins. His condescending smile widened upon seeing Steele and Tyler. “Ah, Coach Steele! Good to see you here! And you must be Tyler Dawson, the young talent everyone’s been talking about!” Jenkins said, his melodious voice full of flattery.

Tyler felt a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention. “Yeah, that’s me, but I’m nothing special,” he murmured, trying to look away.

“Don’t be modest! You’re about to have a great opportunity. We’re very excited to have you here,” Jenkins continued, making a sweeping gesture with his hands as though presenting a grand attraction. “Come, I’ll take you to see some of the facilities. You’re going to love it!”

Steele watched the interaction with a stern look, his expression reflecting the concern he felt. He knew Jenkins wasn’t being genuine, and that his intentions were much more sinister than they appeared. But Tyler was excited, and unknowingly, he had already been ensnared in the board's web of interests.

As they walked, Jenkins continued to talk about the importance of college football and how Tyler could stand out. They passed various facilities, from a complete gym to a sauna for players to relieve fatigue after practices. Throughout the tour, the man treated Tyler like a celebrity, praising him at every turn. “You’re exactly the kind of player we need to ensure our future success. College is full of opportunities, and I’m sure you’re going to shine,” he said while leading them to a room with a large mirror.

When they arrived, Jenkins turned to Steele, his voice becoming lower and conspiratorial. “This is the moment; if you want to change your mind, Steele,” he said, casting a meaningful glance at the coach. There was something there; Jenkins had never been his friend, there had to be some trap. The kid's fate was sealed, and there was nothing to be done.

Steele maintained his composure, but the tension in his shoulders was palpable. He knew the decision had already been made, and there was no turning back. “I think there’s nothing more to discuss, Jenkins. The choice is made,” he said in a firm voice, but a shadow of hesitation crossed his eyes.

Tyler, oblivious to the whispered conversation, looked at the mirror absently. It was then that Steele approached him, his expression now more solemn.

“Tyler, I need to step out for a moment. I’ll send you a message as soon. Stay here and trust me,” Steele said, his voice low but filled with a weight Tyler couldn’t comprehend.

“Sure, coach,” Tyler replied, a bit confused but still trusting in the coach's words.

“You’re going to do well, kid,” Steele added before leaving the room, resigned and accompanied by an eager Jenkins.

“Showtime!” the man exclaimed enthusiastically, while Steele remained silent as both headed to an adjoining room. In this room, there was also a large glass panel, essentially a window into the room where Tyler was innocently fiddling with his phone.

Steele sat in one of the comfortable chairs, observing the men around him. He recognized some of the attendees nodding in acknowledgment. Then Jenkins began with the formalities.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen, thank you all for coming with enthusiasm, especially to Coach Steele, who provided us with today’s specimen. Without further ado, let’s get to the point. We believed the best way to explain our product was to show how it works. Before us is Tyler Dawson, a mediocre player on a team far superior to his skills. Originally holding potential, being the brother of an elite player, he has not yet conformed to our standards. Therefore, he was chosen to reactivate an old protocol otherwise known as BACS for short.”

Four words were then flashed in red on the glass, obscuring Tyler's distracted figure as he innocently fiddled with his phone. A silly acronym, but one that worked nonetheless.

Beefy Aggressive Cocky Straight

“It is my understanding that many of you have already utilized our more subtle tools; however, among you are some insecure beginners, or even among the more experienced there are those who prefer a direct approach, with no need for catalysts or such. That is why BACS was created; due to some minor flaws, it was taken off the market but now returns with renewed strength as you will soon see.”

The men present in the room exhibited a variety of reactions to Jenkins’s speech. Some appeared visibly interested, their eyes gleaming with a nearly predatory expectation. Others seemed slightly uncomfortable, likely questioning the unorthodox methods. But most in attendance seemed eager to partake in the new and improved BACS protocol.

Jenkins smiled broadly, clearly pleased to present this “opportunity” to his colleagues. Steele watched it all in silence, his expression grave. He knew there was no turning back; Tyler’s fate was sealed. Still, a part of him questioned whether he had made the right choice by accepting this deal. The kid had so much potential, so many dreams. Did he really need to go through this radical transformation?

As the other men animatedly discussed, Steele sighed heavily. “What’s done is done,” he murmured to himself, resigned. Now everything depended on what would happen to Tyler on the other side of that mirror.

In the other room, Tyler continued to be distracted by his phone, oblivious to what was happening around him. He only frowned when a bright light and a deafening sound emanated from the device.

Suddenly, a wave of heat began to spread through his body. Tyler felt his muscles contracting as if they had a mind of their own. His skin seemed to tingle as his physical structure began to alter.

He watched, agape, as his arms thickened, the muscles hardening and swelling. His shoulders broadened, giving him a more imposing presence. Tyler could feel the tension of his clothing against his chest, which seemed to expand with the growing muscle mass.

His legs also transformed, the thighs becoming thick and defined, the knees and calves becoming more pronounced. He felt taller, his proportions changing dramatically. Even his face seemed different, with sharper features and a more prominent jawline.

As he observed his own metamorphosis, Tyler felt a mix of fear and euphoria. His identity seemed to merge with a new personality, more arrogant and competitive. His doubts and questions replaced by an inflated ego and a mentality focused solely on vanity and conquest. The homosexuality he had yet to fully experience faded away, replaced by a dominating straightness.

On the other side of the mirror, the men watched Tyler’s transformation with eager eyes. Some smiled, clearly impressed with the results of the BACS protocol. Steele, on the other hand, watched with a somber expression.

As quickly as the change began, it completed, and Tyler stared at himself in the mirror, his new self looking back with a confident and predatory gaze. He was no longer the insecure kid but rather one of the typical jocks that abounded on so many teams. Bored, he casually scratched his junk and let out a fart, bursting into laughter.

“Damn T-Dawg, you’re rotten inside you dumbass.” He said loudly. “Good thing there’s no chick around. “ Although that’s all it takes for them to forget you are an asshole and go wild,” he added, grabbing his huge dick over his clothes and grinning at himself in the mirror, laughing without knowing what lay behind the immense structure.

“So, who wants to be next?” Jenkins asked, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction as he observed the other men in the room eagerly raising their hands.

When Tyler and Coach Steele boarded the private jet after the event, the atmosphere inside the aircraft was laden with a silent tension. The kid could barely contain his excitement. He settled into his seat, quickly grabbing his phone to check social media. Comments and reactions to his posts started pouring in at a steady rate.

“Look at this, Coach!” Tyler exclaimed, showing the phone screen to Steele, who was seated across from him. “People are loving the video I posted on TikTok. I caught some amazing balls during practice, and now everyone is commenting about me. Look at all these likes!”

Steele forced a smile, but his concern was evident. “Tyler, that’s great and all, but we can’t forget what really matters. Football is about teamwork, discipline, and personal growth. You need to focus on that and not just on social media,” he said, trying to draw the young man’s attention.

“I know, coach, but it’s awesome to see how people are reacting. I finally feel like I’m part of something bigger,” Tyler replied, scrolling through the screen as he checked the views on his video. “Look, there are already thousands of views! This is just the beginning. The girls are going crazy, and a lot of guys are praising me!”

Steele felt a knot in his stomach. He remembered Tyler’s insecurity before the transformation and how much he had struggled to feel accepted.

“As long as you don’t take your head out of the game…”

“Relax, coach! I’m focused. And I’m going to crush it for the rest of the season. They’re going to remember me,” Tyler replied, flashing a confident smile as he took more pictures to post. He was so involved in his new self that he didn’t notice the coach’s strange look.

Steele decided to change the subject, attempting to connect with the player on a more personal level. “And what about your plans for the future? Have you thought about where you’d like to play in college? Or what you’d like to study?” he asked, trying to pull a more meaningful conversation.

Tyler looked at the coach, but his mind was elsewhere. “Oh, I don’t know, coach. I’m thinking about a bunch of things. But nothing concrete at the moment, I just want to enjoy this phase. You have no idea what it’s like to grow in the shadow of someone like Lee, knowing that in reality, I’m way better than him. And now I’m finally getting the attention I’ve always wanted. Speaking of which, let me post this dope photo I took on the trip. This is going to blow up!” He said, while starting to edit the image.

The trip then continued amidst almost total silence, interrupted only by the sound of notifications from Tyler’s phone. He was in his own world, while Steele gazed out the window, lost in thought.

…..

Steele arrived home, the imposing mansion reflecting the light of the full moon. The place was silent, except for the soft sound of his footsteps echoing on the dark wooden floors. He headed to the living room, where he poured himself a generous glass of aged Bourbon. The intense aroma filled the air as he served the amber liquid. Bringing the glass to his lips, he felt a momentary relief, but the tension building in his chest didn’t dissipate.

With the glass in hand, he sat in the grand living room, where the walls were adorned with photos of his accomplishments as a coach, but also reminders of tough times. Steele's distant gaze fixed on one of the walls where the three team jerseys he had worn throughout his career were framed: the high school one, the Ohio State, and finally the Philadelphia Eagles one, where he had played for two years before deciding to become a coach. Looking at those, he remembered when his passion for the sport made him feel alive, not just as a coach but as a mentor and guide.

The solitude of the space began to weigh on him, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision, he opened his fake Instagram profile—a account he used to monitor his students without them knowing. Samantha Jones, a college student from across the country with huge tits, who was extremely interested in high school kids who thought they were big players. Boys were so easy to manipulate…

As he scrolled through the feed, he saw posts from a huge party, the boys laughing and having fun, surrounded by cheap beer and vodka bottles. And then, the image that hit him like a punch in the gut: Tyler, the previously timid and insecure kid, now with two girls on either side, kissing his cheeks before downing whiskey straight from the bottle amid cheers and animated shouts from his teammates.

Turning off his phone, Steele looked at the bottom of the glass. He would make the boys pay dearly for those excesses on Monday, that is if he didn’t call for a surprise practice on next day just to see them sweat out all that alcohol. He felt extremely irritated by the whole situation. Logically he knew that this new Tyler, once he had his wings clipped the right way, was the best thing for the team; still…

“Sometimes, I really hate this job,” he murmured to himself before slamming the glass down on a table and starting to prepare the most exhausting practice he could think of for that bunch of idiots.

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. four teaser+moodboard (JYH x reader).

this mini series is part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

status: wip (i still have a bit to go, sorry ya'll). chapter title: i love you, i'm sorry. word count (so far, more to go): 15.8k teaser word count: 1.2k posted: 01/26/2025 taglist: @kyunlov, @tinyelfperson, @ultrapinkvoidbouquet, @kyeomooniee, @fairylover68, @sushiinmidnight, @qveenbunni, @potatomountain, @svintsandghosts, @blue5ummer, @fancypeacepersona, @hyukssunflower, @i-love-ateez, @alsomimi, @e3ellie, @st3ft0n3s, @hotteokkay

notes: hey everyone... how ya'll doing... OKAY, SO. I've been writing like crazy these past couple of days and I explained it in a post before but I just want to let everyone know that I'm a little busy with life, finding a remote stable job (or a job at all at this point) is a little hard, especially when the only thing you do succesfully is being a writer lmao. so I've been focusing on that instead of this but!!! I'm almost done with this chapter. I do think we're getting a chapter five, a shorter one, just to kind of explain how everything goes after the end of chapter four and that's going to be cooking as soon as this chapter goes live! ANYWAY. I wanted to give you all a little teaser that covers a little of what's to come in this one. it's my favorite one so far, too, so I'm really looking forward to you reading it!

remember that I have a permanent taglist form! that way, i can tag you in all my future works <3 also, if you'e reading this on the tags, here's my main masterlist and the mbc!masterlist if you want to catch up!

thank you all for being so patient and into the teaser we go.

Making a mental list to organize and prioritize everything you need to do, you barely register footsteps echoing in the long hall. You should’ve, because it’s lunchtime and there’s no one on the floor, but you don’t. 

And so when the person you least want to see comes through the door and lets out a heavy sigh, you turn to him like he grew a second nose over the course of the twenty minutes you last saw each other. 

“I hate it here, I truly do.” 

It almost makes you want to laugh, but you remain stoic as you move through the office. You take a few boxes and you put them down on the floor until there’s some light leaking through the window and illuminating the space enough for it not to give you a headache as you work. 

Sitting on your brother's chair, barely sparing him another glance before turning on the desk computer and pulling up an empty document. You click and tap a few meaningless things: You pick the font, you mess with the font size for a second before setting it back to its default. Anything to help you look busy and not like your heart is going a million miles per second. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” 

Blurry, in the background, you can see him look around the office, probably taking the mess in. He moves too, walks until his expensive shoes are tip to tip  with a literal mannequin resting against the wall. 

You stop paying attention as you write the date and the proposal title. Something simple, something that both your father and the CEO of the dumb not-approved-by-you company that has you in this predicament can understand. You hate to say that you assume they’re not very smart if they put out such a dated and non profitable idea for their company. 

Still, you try to address Yunho like nothing’s bothering you and like you’re not nervous you two are in a room alone after everything that went down. 

“You can ask Seonghwa what that means,” you start, sighing like his friend and your brother are hopeless. Because maybe that’s what they are. “They’re not running any ideas by me even though I’m the one that spends the most time in this office, so.” 

“Hm,” he starts and you can hear him walking around, but your focus is now on the first few words of the proposal. You realize there’s really nothing you can start before speaking with marketing and so you open the notes app, to have a list of ideas to run through them at least. “Thought you worked from home.” 

“I do. I have an office three floors down, too.” It’s easy sharing information with him now, especially if it means there’s something to talk about that’s not… Well, the kiss. “I hate it, it’s in a corner and people can see into it. It’s easier to work here.” 

“And Soohyun hyung doesn’t mind?”

“Considering he’s never here, I doubt it.” 

“Cool, cool.” 

There’s something in his tone that makes you want to look up, lump in your throat growing in size enough for you to cough it away. You don’t look up, you can’t look up even if you’ve misspelled the word rebrand like four times already. 

But then the light you managed to cast onto the space disappears completely. You feel something besides you, the soft material of an expensive suit blazer grazing your arm and cheek. You see veiny, masculine hands secure themselves around the arms of the chair before he’s turning you to face him. 

You gulp. 

He’s leaning down close, closer than he should be, closer than what he’s allowed to be considering anyone can walk in on you. You’re flushing, you can feel the redness creep up your neck and heating your ears and face before you gather the courage of raising a questioning brow. Yunho stays silent, his eyes scanning your face and briefly landing on your lips before returning your stare. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” You ask him again, quieter this time, voice trembling a little. 

“Princess,” he starts, the corner of his lip raising just a little, like it’s funny he has to say what he’s about to say, “are you ghosting me?” 

Shit. 

“Why would you— Why would I—,” a nervous chuckle abandons you and then you huff, trying to seem offended at his accusation, “W-what do you mean by that?” 

Leaning into your space a tiny bit more, he repeats “Are you ghosting me?” 

Creasing your brow, you straighten in the chair but do nothing to pull him away “No.”

“Then what about the ten messages I sent you and you left on delivered?” 

Faking a surprised gasp, you move to take your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and unlock it to swipe through your messages “You did? Oh, my God, I’ve been soooo busy.” 

“You’re shit at lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying to you—” 

“Are you okay?” 

Your eyes snap from the phone to his face, genuine annoyance creasing your eyebrows this time. 

“You don’t have to ask me that everytime you see me, Jeong.” 

“But are you?” He asks as you finally find his chat and open the messages you dreaded to see the entire time that passed. There’s a few of them practically begging you to speak to him, one apologizing for the kiss and the other ones you don’t even see because Yunho is taking the phone from your hand and placing it on the desk next to you. “I mean, what happened didn’t trigger anyth—” 

You hate he’s this considerate with you, even after you clearly walked out of the situation with a poorly formulated excuse.

“What happened was a mistake.” 

Yunho physically deflates and lets the chair go, the tension on your shoulders lifting a little now that he’s not as close. 

“What?” 

“It was a mistake, we shouldn’t have done that. We’re professionally obligated to work together, fake all of this together, so it shouldn’t…” You pause and consider for a bit before doing something you never do: take the blame “I shouldn’t have. I apologize.” 

Letting out a breath, you turn the chair and delete the misspelled rebrand to write it the correct way, heart too weak to even look at his reaction. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re never doing anything like it again. 

You hear him shuffle with the boxes at both your feet and, from the corner of your eye, you see him turning away from you and then back, hands on his hips “I don't think it was a mistake.” 

“Well, it was.” 

“I liked it.” 

That brings out a genuine, short lived laugh out of you “Thank you, I’m a great kisser.” 

You open your brother’s email and pretend there’s an urgent matter inside the contents of one of them until Yunho’s hand closes over yours, over the mouse. 

“Y/N.” 

There’s a lot of things about Jeong Yunho you hate: The swoop of his hair when there’s no gel on it, the free aspect to his nature you’re never going to get even if you try to, that one time he called you an ugly giant after wearing platforms for the first time ever. 

And the sweetness of his voice when he says your name, the plea you hear on it and the shudder it brings to your spirit. It shakes you, it moves you to look at him again, to actually take his feelings into consideration. 

He’s staring at you with so much hurt, it makes your heart sink into an abyss of guilt. 

“Hm?” 

“I think I like you.” 

Oh.

Well, well, well... If it isn't the enemy turning into a potential lover time. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THE TEASER. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2025.

[burntheedges]

8 AMAZING Ballet Moments From NBT’s HOTTEST Couple! (A Pas de Deux Epilogue)

Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | 5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

summary: The link arrives with a text from Adrian that reads, "👀🩰🔥."

a/n: surprise! it's an epilogue! I wasn't originally planning to write this, but then I got this comment (thank you, @ageappropriatefanperson - I'm answering a few of your questions, lol). And then I was watching a highlights video and... here we are. It was fun to visit these two again. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! I hope y'all enjoy Sophie and Andre as much as I enjoyed creating them. 🧡

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, touching, reader sits in Din's lap, cuddling, YouTube video, ballet terms, more links for y'all lol, kissing, fondling, pet names (sweetheart), couch sex, p-in-v sex, dirty talk

...

“What’s that?”

You feel Din come up behind you and lean in over your shoulder. You smile, leaning back against his chest. His arms immediately snake around your waist.

“Adrian sent it to me.” You angle your phone so he can see the title – 8 AMAZING Ballet Moments from NBT’s HOTTEST Couple! 

He huffs out a laugh and you feel his chest move against your back. “S’that about us? Are we the hottest couple?”

You nod. “Obviously. Don’t you feel like the hottest couple? I mean, you’re definitely hot.” He laughs again at your teasing and squeezes you. “I was about to watch it. Should I get my computer?” 

Din hides his face in your neck and groans. “Yeah ok, I’ll watch it, too.”

You fish your computer out of a pile of Grogu’s drawings on the coffee table and lead Din to the couch. He pulls you down onto his lap, so you settle the laptop on your knees where you can both see it. You find the link on YouTube and take a deep breath.

“Ready?” you ask, and Din sighs. 

“Ready,” he says, sounding resigned, and you know it’s because he hates watching himself like this. You start to turn to look at him but he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a soft kiss behind your ear. “I’m ready,” he repeats, voice warmer. You smile as you hit play.

The video begins with a cute animated intro of two people doing ballet (and sometimes falling down and laughing). A scrolling text, like cheerful handwriting, declares, “Sophie and Andre Talk Ballet!”

The camera pans out to two people sitting behind a desk. There are a few cute ballet-themed knick-knacks on the desk, but it’s not cluttered. They both have microphones in front of them. The wall behind them is decorated with posters and art from famous ballets.

The person on the right is wearing a bright blue, fuzzy sweater and matching eyeliner. She has her hair in microbraids that are pulled back into a ponytail.

She speaks first, a cheerful, “hey y’all! I’m Sophie.”

The person on the left has short red hair and freckles. He’s wearing a navy button up that has small white flowers embroidered all over. He repeats her greeting with a broad smile, “and I’m Andre!”

Together, they say, “welcome!”

Sophie continues, “welcome to the next video in our series of amazing ballet moments. We’re really excited about this video because we’ve wanted to make it for a long time.” She turns to look at Andre.

He nods. “Sure did! But we had to wait until the end of the ballet season. It was torture!”

Sophie laughs and agrees. “it really was! But the season is done and now we can say for certain that these are THE 8 amazing ballet moments from…” She trails off and looks expectantly at her co-host.

Andre drums his hands lightly on the desk in front of him. “Drum roll please!” 

Sophie smiles and says, brightly, “Nevarro Ballet Theater’s hottest couple!”

Briefly the two hosts disappear as images of you and Din appear on screen. 

You recognize it immediately. It’s a pretty popular still from Kuiil’s pas de deux, with him holding you in the air. You’re looking at each other, though, and Din has a tiny smile on his face. 

It’s one of your favorites, too. Din presses a kiss into your neck and you know he agrees.

The image of you and Din moves backwards and becomes part of the background behind the two hosts.

Sophie continues, “ever since we had confirmation that these two are dating back in January, which, oh my god! That’s so perfect!” She makes a high pitched noise that makes Din groan behind you and you laugh. ‘Ever since then, we’ve wanted to make this video.”

Andre nods and waves his hand in the air. “That’s right! But we wanted to wait until the end of the season to see Giselle. And spoiler alert, Giselle is definitely in the top 8.” 

You tilt your head against Din’s, thinking about Giselle and smiling. You’re glad it made the top 8.

Sophie grins at her co-host. “Of course! So we’re going to share our favorite moments from these two from the last year and a half, since that’s about when Din Djarin joined NBT.”

They continue on to give a little more information about the two of you and your histories with NBT and CBC. You turn your head slightly and press your smile into Din’s hair. You know he’s thinking of his first few months at NBT, too, from the way his arms tighten just a bit and pull you closer to his chest.

“Alright, you know the drill – we’ll countdown from 8 to our number 1, and we’ll tell you why we chose each moment.” Andre winks at the camera. “Let us know what you think in the comments!”

A banner unfurls across the screen that says “#8 - Nutcracker.”

“That’s right,” Andre says, “our first - or last? - moment is this year’s Nutcracker!”

Sophie nods. “This was Din’s first year doing Nutcracker with NBT, since he joined just before the holiday season last season and wasn’t in the show.”

Andre points at the camera. “And he did not disappoint! Now, we all know the Russian dance, also called Trepak. It’s tough, and fast, and hell on the knees. It’s usually a very specific bit of choreography with very few changes. But Din really made it look easy and new. I mean, of course he did, we’ve seen him jump!”

“We all have, and what was especially interesting this year was that they turned parts of it into more of a solo to really showcase how he can fly.”

Andre nodded. “Here’s a clip of our favorite part.”

You elbow him when the clip starts because you just know he’s hidden his face again. The short clip that plays is of Din doing the flying barrel turns, and then it cuts to his leaps in second position. He groans into your neck and you laugh.

“Seriously, y’all, I don’t know that I’ve seen someone hit those jumps that well, like, ever.” Sophie sighs.

“And did you see how high he jumped? And that extension? The lines of his arms?” Andre sighed, too, and then they both laughed. “He’s amazing!”

“But so is his partner, who danced the lead in Marzipan for the second time this year.” A picture of you in Marzipan appears behind Sophie’s head.

“And she freaking killed it,” Andre says, slapping his hands on the table. “Last year was good, but this year was great. Marzipan is tricky because the lead has to be hitting different beats than the rest of the dancers, and sort of leading them at the same time. And she really blew us away. I mean, those turns?” He looks at Sophie, who nods. “Just watch.”

You feel Din’s head come up and it makes you laugh. He’s more than willing to watch you dance, of course. The clip is of a moment towards the end of Marzipan, where you’re doing turns center stage. You feel Din sigh behind you and he murmurs, “gorgeous,” into your hair. It reminds you of when he complimented you, way back at the beginning, when you first met. You turn to kiss his cheek.

“Amazing, right?” Sophie asks, and Andre nods. “So that’s our first moment. And for the second....”

Another banner unfurls across the screen that reads, “#7 - THE Bayadère solo.”’

Sophie spreads her hands out and says, “now, we couldn’t do this list justice if we didn’t feature some truly impressive solo moments from each half of our favorite pair.”

Andre nods. “We have more of them together, but in what world could we leave this one out? And you’ll see the rest coming up.”

Sophie leans towards the camera with a serious look on her face, and the camera zooms in on her. “And we know you all know this one! We could. Not. Stop. Talking about it when it happened, because it’s just that good. Back when he first joined NBT, Din did a medley of three of Solor’s variations from different versions of La Bayadère, all in a row, in a mixed program.” 

She leans back and the camera pans out to show Andre fanning himself. “I still can’t believe he did this. Three variations from one of the hardest roles, and all in a row? No breaks?” Andre slams his hand into his fist. “It was a statement.”

Sophie nods. “It was honestly the biggest and best fuck you to CBC that anyone could have asked for, after his dramatic exit. It was hey, look what you let slip through your fingers! And boy did they fumble huge here.”

“Yes!” Andre agrees. “And we did a whole video on that that we’ll link below. But back to the solos — from the moment the lights came up and he hit that first double cabriolet, it was like time stopped. He smashed it. Just completely owned these variations.”

“We almost couldn’t choose a favorite part, but we had to go with the double assemblé turns. First, they are crisp and clean and perfect. Second, they are part of the third variation out of three that he did with no breaks. Third, he does like 7 of them in a row. That’s wild.”

“Wild!” Andre almost shouts. “Just… just watch.”

You reach up to grab Din’s chin to make him watch, and turn to whisper in his ear, “I was standing in the wings watching this, mesmerized.” His arms tighten around your waist and you grin. “I mean, at the time I didn’t know yet – I was still worried about dancing with you. But you were beautiful.” 

You know he doesn’t like it when you say things like that about yourself, and as always he tucks himself around you tighter and shakes his head. 

“I know, Din, I don’t think like that anymore.” You cut off his protests with a kiss, and he responds with interest.

By the time you break away and turn back to the video, they’re already talking about moment #6. 

“...and that’s why we love her portrayal of Hermia.” Sophie has her hands clasped in front of her chest. 

“Its technically and artistically beautiful, of course, but the feeling!” Andre slumps dramatically over the table. “How does she do it? We could feel how tormented the character was just from the angle of her shoulders, I swear. Take a look.”

It’s a clip of your Hermia variation from Midsummer, from the year Din joined NBT. He sighs and presses a smile into your cheek. “Beautiful,” he says, and then presses a line of kisses down your neck. 

“Honestly it’s my favorite interpretation of Hermia, probably ever,” Sophie says. “It’s no surprise to us that she finally made principal this year!” You turn to try to hide your face in Din’s neck but he chuckles and kisses you instead.

“And our next moment brings our two favorites back together,” Andre says, and a banner unfurls that reads, “#5 - Raindrops.”

You’re surprised, and kind of pleased. Raindrops was Jee’s fall premiere, her brand new ballet, from this last NBT season. It was an ensemble ballet, and very contemporary, and you and Din had been one of three main pairs.  

“If you’ve been here a while, you know we loved this new ballet and we hope it sticks around in NBT’s repertoire. It is so, so beautiful!” Andre sighs a bit dreamily. “And we loved the way the choreography played to the strengths of each couple.”

Sophie nods. “We’ll link our whole video on Raindrops below. But right now we want to focus on the final duet, danced by our favorite pair. The whole ballet creates such an interesting world of movement that echoes rainfall, but these two really brought it home with this part.”

Andre sweeps his left arm out. “I don’t know how they did it, but it feels like the calm after a rainstorm. Just watch.”

You feel Din looking at this one, and you know he’s watching you on screen. You suppose that’s only fair, since you’re watching him. Jee had really blown everyone away with this choreography and you were looking forward to doing it again. Din hums contentedly as the Din on screen lifts you and you smile. 

“Ugh, it’s so gorgeous,” Sophie says, resting her chin in her hands. “I don’t even know what I want to say.”

“Sounds like it’s time for our next moment!” Andre laughs. The banner that unfurls on the screen reads, “#4 - La Bayadère (Again).”

“We were both surprised and not surprised when the fall schedule was released for NBT,” Andre says, raising his hands. He lifts his right hand and says, “surprised, because they’ve never done La Bayadère before.” He lifts his left hand and tilts his head. “Not surprised, because we all saw what Din can do with it in his first NBT performance.”

Sophie nods. “And we knew it would be amazing when we saw who was cast as Nikiya.” A picture appears on screen of the two of you dancing together as Solor and Nikiya. “This was an ambitious addition for NBT and wow did they knock it out of the park!”

“He brought all of that power and grace we saw in the solos,” Andre continues, “and she brought a deep emotionality to the technical performance Nikiya requires that really blew us away. She more than deserved the promotion to principal and this just shows that.”

“They’re right.” Din’s mouth tickled your neck as he whispers against it and you shiver. “Shit, you were so amazing as Nikiya.”

He had told you that many times during the rehearsals and the show itself but the praise still made you squirm in his lap. 

“THE moment we chose is from the end of act 2, Nikiya’s death scene. Ugh it’s so good and so freaking sad!” Sophie cups her face with her hands. “I can’t take it.”

Andre reaches over and they briefly hold hands. “I cried! We both cried! Her control - immaculate. His emotions - overflowing yet viciously contained.”

Sophie is nodding along. “Yes, they danced it so beautifully, and their skill really really shone here. And the feeling!”

Andre puts a hand up to his mouth as if to whisper to the audience. “And look, I know a lot of you started to ship them after a moment we’ll mention later,” — Sophie interrupts to shout “no spoilers!” — “but I think this performance alone launched a thousand ships.”

Sophie laughs. “And we’ll show you why — just look at how they look at each other!”

The clip that plays showcases a lot of your skill, it’s true, but also the longing looks you and Din had to give each other in this scene. 

“I want to say we were just acting,” you say, laughing, “but I can’t blame them for thinking we were in love already, when we actually were.”

Din nips at your neck and you yelp. He laughs. “Anyone with eyes can see how I feel when I look at you, sweetheart. And he’s supposed to be in love with her. I had a lot of personal experience to draw on.” 

You turn to kiss him, then, because what else would you do? You miss the rest of the commentary about La Bayadère, lost in Din. 

But then they capture your attention again. 

“And for our next moment…” Andre says, and the banner unfurls to reveal, “#3 - THE rehearsal.” 

“Ok, we know you’ve all seen it,” Sophie says, shrugging. “Everyone has! It’s still amazing.”

“Oh no,” Din groans, hiding his face in your neck. You can’t help but laugh. You reach up and bury your hand in his curls, trying to soothe him.

Andre winks at the camera. “It’s so, so good. And you know what we’re talking about — THE rehearsal.”

Sophie sighs. “Just let me say again, thank you to whoever filmed this and decided to share it with the world.”

Din is grumbling against your shoulder and you’re pretty sure you hear a muffled Adrian. You shake your head, smiling. Adrian had put it on his IG, sure, but that had been it. He hadn’t meant for it to go viral. Peli had teased Din about that for weeks.

“It’s the famous moment from January of this year, when we got a little sneaky behind-the-scenes look at an NBT rehearsal,” Andre says. “Later we all figured out that it was the beginning of rehearsals for Giselle. But at the time it was a mystery, and, well. Let’s just play the clip.”

Sophie nods. “Yes! I want to watch it again. And again.”

You know what’s coming before the clip starts. It’s clearly footage from a phone, snuck around the corner and into a rehearsal space through an open door. You even see the door jamb at first. 

In the center of the video are you and Din. You leap through the air and he catches you, grinning. It’s a grin he rarely shows in public but the full force of it is trained on you. You’re laughing as he catches you and flips you upright. The two of you lean into each other and giggle, clearly amused by how learning this particular lift is going. You remember that day — you couldn’t stop laughing, wrapped up in each other and how fun it is to try something new if he’s doing it with you. 

The cameraman (Adrian, your brain supplies) hushes someone off screen. At the same moment, you rise up on your toes and press a quick kiss to Din’s mouth. 

You feel him sigh behind you and you snuggle closer. 

On screen you start to move away, ready to practice again, but he pulls you back into another kiss.

The video cuts out there, and you know it’s because Adrian didn’t actually want footage of you making out. And you did make out, you remember, for quite a while after that.  

“And that’s how we all found out our ship was real! The hottest couple is real,” Andre laughs. “They are so freaking cute together.”

Sophie nods. “I love seeing a little peek into how they work on lifts. And the kiss!” She pretends to swoon, grinning. “So I hope they don’t mind but damn do we love that video.”

“Two more,” Adrian says, “and I bet you know what they are. But which one is number one?”

Sophie drums on the table as the next banner unfurls, and it says, “#2 - Giselle.”

“We told you it would be in the list and here it is!” Andre gestures widely with a smile. “NBT did a longer run of Giselle and so our two favs were not the only ones to dance the roles of Giselle and Albrecht. And everyone did an amazing job.”

Sophie nods. “But as we all know by now, these two have something special. And you could really feel it in the way he danced Albrecht. It’s a difficult, taxing, emotional role. We already did a video comparing his performances as Albrecht at NBT and CBC, which we’ll link below.”

Andre sighs. “He is so, so good in this role. We knew he would be, but damn. He has grown so much as a dancer since joining NBT — not technically, but emotionally. His first Albrecht was great, technically perfect in that usual CBC way. But this one? This one made me cry.”

“Exactly,” Sophie agrees. “He really hit another level with his performances this year with NBT and this was the high point. And he was already starting from such a high level!”

“And then our Giselle!” Andre slumps dramatically in his seat. “She blew us away. That is such a challenging role, and she didn’t just nail it. I feel like because of her performance I understand the ballet better now. And I’ve seen it approximately 1 million times.”

“Here, we’ll show you what we mean,” Sophie says, and the clip starts. 

Your face is warm from the compliments. They show two clips - one of Giselle’s descent into madness, and one of Albrecht dancing for his life. Din seems to have resigned himself to watching, but you know he’s enjoying it when he nudges his head against yours. 

“Seriously,” Sophie says when the clips end. “How? Their range! And wow what a difference from CBC’s Giselle for Din.”

Andre nods. “They showed us what they’re made of this year. And it was amazing.”

“And, one more! Our absolute favorite, forever…” Sophie winks at the camera.

A banner unfurls that reads, “#1 - THE pas de deux.”

“THE pas!” Adrian and Sophie say in unison, grinning. 

Then Sophie says, “ok well first, we already did a whole video on this pas de deux. We’ll link it below. But my god, this pas!”

Andre has a dreamy look in his eye. “They’ve performed it twice — once in last year’s anniversary gala, and once in the mixed program that opened this year’s fall season.”

“It is a true tour de force of technical skill, strength, and emotional connection. These two made magic on stage and somehow did it even better the second time.”

“It’s true,” Andre agrees. “I get chills just thinking about it. It’s not often you get to see two true masters of their art make something new together like this. To watch them truly create something wonderful together. But our favorite moment — after much deliberation — is from the first time they performed it, and from the 3rd movement.”

“It’s the famous one where they dance around each other, and then she leaps into his arms and gets lifted over his head.” Sophie shrugs. “Look, it’s famous for a reason! It’s gorgeous and emotional and a linchpin for the entire ballet, and for their character development in the story they create over the three parts.”

“It was honestly hard to believe, watching it at the time, that Din hadn’t been at NBT forever. That they’d only just met a few months before.” Andre makes an exaggerated confused face. “Like, how?” 

Sophie smirks at him. “Well, now we have more info…” 

“And we know they’re together,” Andre laughs. “I like to think they fell in love working on this pas. We’ll probably never know for sure, but it would be such an amazing love story. And back then we had no idea!” You feel Din laugh into your neck and you know he’s thinking what you’re thinking – if only they knew!

Sophie reaches over and pats his hand. “Ok, ok, enough from us, let’s play the clip.” 

Din looks up with no prompting this time. You both love Kuiil’s pas de deux and couldn’t hide it if you tried. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice almost a growl, as you launch yourself towards him on the screen. “Beautiful.” He lifts one hand and turns your chin so he can catch your mouth in a kiss.

This kiss is not like the others you’ve shared while watching this video – it’s immediately hotter. Din teases at your mouth with his tongue and then slips inside when you gasp. 

Before you can protest – not that you would – Din reaches forward and closes the laptop, cutting off the video mid-word. He places it on the floor quickly and then uses that hand to tug you back into a kiss. 

You sink into it happily. You wondered sometimes if being with him would ever stop feeling like this. At this point, you doubt it.

Without breaking the kiss, Din grabs your hips and guides you to turn until you’re straddling his lap on the couch. His hands are big and warm on your hips and you sigh into his mouth.

“Beautiful,” he repeats, tugging you downwards. You grind against him and realize suddenly that he’s hard. 

“Din?” you ask, voice breathy. 

“Mm,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you in place, pressed against him. “You know I love watching you dance. And they were right, you’re so fucking amazing.” 

You smile against his mouth and slide your hands up his neck and into his hair. “I love you,” you whisper against his mouth. He catches you in another fierce kiss.

“Love you too,” he breathes. Your chest fills with warmth, just like it does every time he says that. He keeps his left arm wrapped around you but begins to slide his right hand around your hip to the front. You’d been having a quiet morning, before the video, and your lounge shorts make it easy for him to slip his hand inside and cup your pussy. “So much.”

You throw your head back and grind down against his hand. You know he can feel how wet you are already. “Please,” you whine, not exactly sure what you’re asking for, but certain he would do anything you ask.

“Let me show you,” Din says, and tugs on your shorts. You lift up and kick them and your underwear off easily. When you sit back down you gasp – somehow, without you noticing, he’d pulled his sweatpants down. Your pussy drops down right against his hard cock. 

You move your hips back and forth slowly, reveling in the feeling of his cock sliding through your folds. 

“Look at you, sweetheart,” Din growls, voice admiring. He sneaks his hands under your t-shirt and pulls it off. “I love the way you look on my cock.”

You shiver – you can’t help it. You never can, not when Din talks like that. You’re floating. “Din,” you breathe, and he grasps your hips in his big hands. 

“I love the way your body moves,” he says leaning forward to press kisses along your collarbones. He nips at your shoulder. “I love the way it moves against mine. Love the line of your neck, the arch of your back.” He runs his tongue up your neck and sweeps his hand up your spine until he can grip the back of your neck. “Love the curve of your hips and the strength of your thighs.” He grasps your thigh with his free hand, opening your hips even wider. “Love the way our bodies move together.”

Din thrusts upwards and you gasp as the head of his cock nudges your clit.

“Fuck me,” you say, voice firm. You realize your eyes are closed and blink them open to look at him. He’s looking up at you with hungry eyes, mouth open. “Please, Din.”

He smiles at you, and you trace the shape of it with your eyes.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he promises as he nudges at your hip to lift upwards. You find the right position together easily – your bodies know each other so well, now, it’s effortless.

His cock notches at your entrance and his grip on the back of your neck gets firmer. “Look at me,” he demands, and you meet his eyes as you slowly and steadily sink down onto his cock.

When your hips meet his again, you realize you’re both panting, mouths open, staring at each other. 

Then he smiles.

Din tugs you forward into a kiss with his grip on your neck. As his hips thrust upwards, his tongue sweeps into your mouth and you moan.

He guides your hips upwards and sets a devastating pace that has you dropping your forehead on his shoulder, focusing on your breathing. It feels so good, it always feels so good. He knows just how to fuck you and he knows it.

“Just like that,” he says in your ear, voice low. “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” He thrusts upwards again and you whimper. “Do you feel it? How perfectly we fit together?”

You nod against his shoulder and he kisses your ear. 

“You always feel so fucking good,” he says, and you feel his hips stutter. Your bodies are so attuned to each other, it’s so easy for you to read how he’s getting close. And so are you.

It’s gathering down at the base of your spine, a heat that licks upwards and begins to fill every inch of you. 

“Made for me,” Din murmurs into your ear. “And I was made for you.” He squeezes the back of your neck and his next thrust sends the heat spiraling up your spine. 

“Din,” you cry, and you feel it wash over you in a wave of heat and pleasure so strong, it was always so fucking strong.

You hear him say your name as he thrusts upwards once, twice more, before stilling.

You’re both breathing hard, and you collapse forward onto him. He releases his grip on your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“I love you,” he says again, and you smile into his neck.

“Love you, too,” you say. “Should we watch videos of our performances more often?” you tease, and you laugh when he groans. 

“Please, no,” he says into your hair, but you can tell he’s teasing. 

“Well,” you say, running your hand through his hair. “Maybe not around other people, if this is what happens.”

He laughs, and you grin. “Can’t help it,” he says, squeezing you tighter. “I love watching you.” His cock twitches inside of you and you gasp. 

“Din?” you ask, leaning back to look at him.

He’s smirking. “Why don’t you go lie down on the bed, sweetheart,” he says, and then kisses you. “And let me clean you up.”

You know exactly how he plans to clean you up, and you clench around him at the thought. He sucks in a sharp breath that you feel in his chest. “You have to let me up, first,” you say, wiggling in his arms. His cock starts to stiffen inside of you again and you grin. 

“Cute,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you softly. He grasps your hips and thrusts up into you again. “Now get up, sweetheart. I need to clean you up before I get you dirty again.”

You laugh and do as he says.

...

a/n: all the links are in the text above so I don't think I have a ton to say, for once! I tried to pick things that showed what I was talking about, either the steps or the style. I hope you enjoyed it! I missed these two. 🥰