#im done spiralling at least for right now

[storm-of-feathers]

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[chalupaconspiracy]

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[indigodawns]

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[mechazushi]

Pink [It's my Favorite Color] {A Kaiju Number 8 Short Story} <Smut>

Tags] IhaReno, Breif Mention of KafHoshi, Intense Making-Out, Hickeys, Unprotected Sex, Love Hotel, Creampie, Mild Intoxication (just a liquid courage amount, not enough for questionable consent.) Scratching/Bruising, Cock Worshipping, Iharu Is A Blushing Mess. (Let me know if there was anything else I should have tagged.)

{So originally, I wanted to write this story in such a way that the pace of it matched the rhythm of the song, but I very quickly realized that I physically CAN'T bring myself to write something that can be read in under 4 minutes. In the end, this is just here to let yall know that this story was directly inspired by this song. and to explain away the sudden appearence of Reno's cock-worshipping mindset, iykyk,}

Holidays always managed to slip past Reno. If it wasn't for his classmates all around him getting excited for them, he probably would have grown up ignoring it altogether. As sad as it was, it was mainly because he never really felt close enough to anyone to bother keeping track of them. This time... this time was different. He felt like he had finally met someone worth celebrating with. Or, for the sake of the holiday, had someone to ask to be his Valentine.

The division liked to go a little extra for the holidays. Nothing crazy like catered parties and live music, but had been known to rent out a building or two. For Valentine's Day, they had decided to buy out a ritzy bar that was off a secluded side street. It was a fairly new bar that had started to develop rave reviews, to the point that most people in the Third Division had heard of it. Everyone wanted to show out. Got new outfits, wore make-up, the works. Haruichi even offered and encouraged some if the guys to wear make-up as well.

Reno was standing outside of the bar in as nice of an outfit he could bring himself to wear. He wore a pair of white slacks with matching shoes. He had Haruichi help slick his hair back, but for the trouble was forced to at least try on this shimmery pink eyeliner he had bought for the occasion. It was a justified reason as it matched the Star of his outfit, a very loudly patterned, button up, pink, silk dress shirt. Everyone had kept telling him that he looked fine, but on the inside he felt more like a disco floor reject.

As he looked at the entrance of the bar, his arm was abruptly nudged by Kafka and the bottle he was holding. For some reason, he had decided to buy a bottle of Hennessy and was passing it around the group. Not everyone could get off at the same time, so him and Kafka were a part of a group of late-comers. Reno wasn't really fond of the idea of pre-gaming, but he had to admit that between showing up late and going into this party with a plan and a purpose had made him incredibly nervous. Taking the bottle, he quickly swallowed the last sip of the harsh liquid and hissed at its taste.

Tossing the bottle away, the group lined up and made their way inside. Letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior, his attention was first caught by the subtle heart decor. All there was to see was some pink and red heart shaped paper doilies hanging from the ceiling. Other than that they had changed the back lighting behind the bar to a rotating pattern of hot pink, red, and white. For the most part they let the dark wood walls and leather furniture speak for itself. The main draw in for the place seemed to be the new Valentine's Day drink menu. Reno casually saddled up to the bar and ordered something fancy sounding with creme liquor and strawberry juice. While it was being made, his eyes flowed over to his person of interest sitting down at the other end of the bar.

Iharu Furuhashi, dressed subliminally punk as usual, only now he made his style match tonight's theme as well. He had freshly dyed his Mohawk in its ever present pink color, but had made the tips of his spiky locks a vibrant red. Thick silver rings adorning most of his fingers matched the square metal studs that lined his leather biker jacket. He wore a pink turtle neck sweater that was cropped and matching high tops, both of which framed a pair of low cut jeans so tight they looked painted on. He was leaning back against the bar while engaged in some apparently hilarious commentary as he nursed a large mug of pink beer.

Reno felt incredibly nervous just sitting at the same bar he was at. For a while the two of them had been in this give-and-take, playfully competitive relationship. At first, Reno just went along with it because he figured that's just how Iharu liked his friendships. It was all pretty harmless, just some combative banter in the basic "Anything you can do, I can do better" format. But lately, it had started to feel different. More... charged. Ambitious, even. Reno wasn't slow, he could tell when he was being flirted with, but this was the first time he couldn't tell if Iharu was playing it off as a joke or if he wanted to be serious.

It didn't help that Reno had come to terms with the fact that he actually did want Iharu to be serious. He liked the casual competitiveness, he liked the intense energy, he liked having someone there to push him and to have someone there to push back. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him got off on the fact that there might be a chance he could make that feeling exclusive. He wasn't possessive by nature, but he did like that it filled a niche part of his brain that apparently decided that it would like a deeper relationship. Especially if he could have it with the one person that could give him that intense feeling on tap. He may not look like it, but as it turns out, Reno... liked 'em loud.

As he sat there sipping on his cocktail, a large and unignorable presence had decided now would be a good time to annoy him. Kafka had plopped onto the bar stool next to him and quietly ordered a rum and coke. As it was put in front of him, he turned and nodded to get Reno's attention. After he got it, he jutted his chin toward the other end of the bar, obviously pointing out Iharu and the lack of Reno existing next to him. Reno flexed his eyes in a way of him saying that he's working on it, only to have Kafka roll his eyes back at him. Taking a sip of his coke, he grabbed Reno's drink with the same hand and abruptly gripped the back of his pants with the other. Reno yelped as he felt himself getting lifted out of the seat and being forced to walk toward Iharu's direction.

As Iharu was turned around, Kafka slammed Reno's drink on the counter and dropped him into the seat next to the punk. Reno threw his arms out wide, wanting to yell at him for his behavior, but Kafka had already left him in the dust. He was left gobsmacked as watched Kafka head to the other side of the room and quietly slipped his hand into the Vice Captain's back pants pocket. With the sound of the drink hitting the counter, Iharu turned around just in time to notice Reno suddenly sitting right next to him.

"Sweet Jesus!" Iharu exclaimed as he gave Reno an appreciative look-over, "Look at you, Hot Stuff! New fit and everything!"

Reno immediately felt a rush of blood hit his face as he gave into a knee-jerk reaction of covering his mouth and looking away.

"Ahh, sorry. Too much?" Iharu murmured with an apologetic smirk.

"N-no, just." Reno stammered as he forced himself to look back, "Last thing I expected you to say, I guess."

"Yeah, sure, but can you really blame me? With the way you're stunnin' everyone tonight." Iharu remarked as he reached over and lightly slapped the back of his hand against Reno's arm.

"Please, I look like I stepped out of the 70's." Reno scoffed as he took a sip of his drink. He immediately felt like biting his tongue as the words left his mouth. After all, he only picked the shirt out because it reminded him of Iharu.

"Nah, man! All you have to do is just act like your naturally cool self and take a lap. Trust me, you're gonna send everyone here flying flat onto their ass." Iharu continued to try his best to keep his partner's confidence up, but it was clear to the both of them that he was laying the compliments on thick tonight.

"Kinda like how I handled your ass back in training yesterday?" Reno reflexively countered with the first thing that came to mind. Now he just felt like cutting out his tongue because who responds to something like that! He came here to ask Iharu out, not dunk on him! Thankfully, not all hope was lost as he heard a hearty laugh come from his man of the hour.

"Hey, just know that if picking up people was like a fight, you'd have already swept me off my feet." Iharu couldn't bring himself to look at Reno as he tossed out his cheesiest line, but the embarrassment didn't stop his hand from reaching down to Reno's thigh and mask some gently yearning squeezes behind a friendly pat. Reno's gaze flickered between the hand that was just on his leg and the slowly building blush Iharu was currently trying to hide in the dimly lit bar.

"Well, someone's decided to stop being subtle tonight." Reno thought. This was good. Amazing, actually. Against all odds, this was starting to turn into something he felt like he could work with.

"Have to admit though, did not think you would come in here wearing something pink in the first place." Iharu cleared his throat as he spoke, trying to dissipate the sudden tension he didn't mean to make.

"Oh, why's that?" Reno asked, hoping it would lead to something he could play off of.

"Well, I mean... not to lay claim to an entire portion of the color spectrum, but pink's always been kinda my thing. Ya know?" Iharu commented as he side-eyed Reno from behind his beer mug, "Can I ask what made you want to take the color out for a spin?"

Reno bit at the rim of his glass so he could force down an evil chuckle at what he was about to say. He began to hope that he hadn't been reading Iharu wrong this whole time and that his stupid, half-thought out plan was actually about to work.

"This, uh, might come as a surprise to you, but-" Reno started to speak, but interrupted himself so he could throw a leg over Iharu's lap. Leveraging the heel of his shoe into the swivel seat he was on, Reno forced Iharu to face him as he got as close as he could comfortably get in such a position. Placing his chin in his hand, Reno tried to communicate his real intent through his gaze as best he could as he finished his previous thought.

"-Pink is actually my favorite color." He smirked.

Saying pink was his favorite color seemed to be the right choice. It wasn't long before the two of them slipped away from the party and ended up passing through an emergency exit door that opened out into a secluded side alley. If Reno wasn't getting slammed onto the wall next to it, he probably would have started questioning how the alarm didn't immediately go off. However, he was currently getting his hips firmly pressed up to the wall as Iharu took the lead and started to enthusiastically attack Reno's mouth with his.

Small gasps and stilted moans echoed down the alley as Reno fisted the leather jacket. He had to forcefully unclench his hands to move them anywhere, and could tell they were shaking as he shifted them under the jacket. His hands traced the hem of the pants, ghosting over the strip of exposed skin that revealed Iharu's prominent hips, and up the front of the sweater. He felt lost in the kiss as he hands squeezed the soft fabric, a lackluster attempt to keep him grounded. As his hands came around the back of the sweater, he suddenly felt a cool expanse of smooth skin underneath the jacket.

"Holy shit, is this backless?" Reno pulled away in surprise as his hands quickly traced the edges of the hidden opening.

"Surprise." Iharu chuckled darkly, "Wait till you see the back of the collar." He began to kiss and nip a path down Reno's jaw to his neck, loudly relishing the taste of his skin.

Intrigued, Reno quickly pulled a hand back out and roughly pulled on the back of the coat. Iharu shimmied his shoulders a little to expose the back of his neck. Reno pulled his head more to the side so he could look over more. Sure, it made his collar bone vulnerable to Iharu's viciously lovely nipping, but now he could see what he was talking about. A wide, bright pink, silk bow was the only thing holding the collar around the neck, and by proxy the rest of the sweater.

"Fuuuck," Reno roughly gasped, "Who knew you could be so adorable?"

"You're about to find out just how -fucking- adorable I can get, Sweet Heart." Iharu smirked as he earnestly licked over all of the reddened pinpricks he left all over Reno's clavicle.

He slotted a leg in between Reno's and forcefully pulled his hips over it, making him grind on Iharu's thigh. Reno moaned loudly as one of his legs came up and locked its ankle behind the one he was rubbing up on. The one hand that was still under the jacket dug and scratched a short ways down Iharu's back, causing a stuttering gasp as he bit a trail back up the other side of Reno's neck. Hot breaths and warm tongues collided as their grips on each other tightened.

Reno felt like he was floating through heaven. This was everything he felt like he was craving and more. He had wondered if their push-and-pull friendship would carry over into something like this, and now that he had it, he hoped he wouldn't ever have to go back to how they were before. Not after getting a taste of what it would be like to push someone over the edge of ecstasy and get dragged along on the journey. It felt like being both the passenger and the tracks of a roller coaster, just building and waiting and hoping this crazy ride wouldn't end.

Reno's mouth became even more eager as he continued to feel Iharu's back get warmer under his hand. As it traveled around, it drifted south and made a home on Iharu's ass, groping it and forcing their hips impossibly closer together. He felt like he couldn't get enough of their carnal contact as he tried to get Iharu to grind back. The hand that was on the jacket pulled forward and tried to shove itself in between them, beginning to desperately paw at the matching studded belt buckle. Reno quickly became distracted with the endeavor, panting as he pulled away from the intense and sloppy make-out to curse out the unbroken leather of the new belt.

"Well shit! Someone's eager tonight." Iharu rasped as he licked away Reno's taste on his lips.

"Wanna touch it." Reno quietly whined, "Wanna watch it and feel it and taste it and make you make a mess of yourself." His chest and legs felt like they were on fire as he brought the other hand around to unbuckle the stubborn belt.

"Whoa there! Out here in this alley? We're gonna get caught, Doll." Iharu huskily teased as he held Reno's hands in place.

Reno pouted at the obstruction before diving forward and sucking Iharu's lips back into his mouth. He licked and nibbled on them as he harshly tugged on the belt, slamming his lover back on his heated body.

"Don't make me wait for this." Reno pleaded as he flipped them around and pressed Iharu up against the wall this time, capturing his lips again.

Iharu humored him for a second before rudely shoving him backwards. Reno stumbled for a moment, face wide with shock and fear and was left wondering if he overstepped something. He was left even more confused as Iharu snagged his wrist and started to drag him out of the alley and down the sidewalk. Reno turned back to watch the bar's entrance quickly become farther and farther away before turning back to look at Iharu's smug expression.

"Who said I was going to?" He remarked.

Very quickly understanding what Iharu was offering, Reno stopped dragging his feet out of concern and immediately matched his partner's rapid pace. The two of them broke out into a run, dodging pedestrians left and right with no idea where they were going but never letting go of each other's hands. The two of them kept running for a while, knowing what they were looking for but had to find it first. They didn't have to go much farther as they eventually found a brightly decorated hotel that had gone all out on the heart shaped holiday decorations.

Bursting through the doors, Reno reached the frosted check in window first and made the reservation. After getting the key, he was abruptly pulled along by Iharu and almost shoved into the elevator. Their lips never broke contact the second they got in, but had to break apart pretty quickly afterward as their room was only on the next floor up. Reno fumbled with the door key for a second, getting distracted by Iharu planting eager kisses on the back of his neck. Everything paused for a moment once they finally got the room open.

Pink. The whole room was pink. Pink walls, pink sheets, pink fluffy rug and shear curtains, pink tulle bunting on the ceiling held up with heart shaped string lights made out of that squishy rubber bead material. There was even a five-ish foot tall pink lava floor lamp rippling in the corner of the room. Reno suddenly remembered what he said earlier about pink being a favorite color and now wanted to eat his words. Iharu wasn't deterred in the slightest and looked around the room in delightful amazement.

"That's coming back with us." He laughed as he pointed to the lamp.

Reno spun on his toes and slammed Iharu up against the door of the room, silencing any more creative ideas from the audacious punk.

"We are not stealing the lamp from the fucking love hotel." Reno muttered as he punched his lips back onto Iharu's.

His lips traveled quickly down Iharu's neck as he tried to catch up to the amount of hickeys he was sporting on his own neck. As Reno sucked and licked dark patches on the plains of his neck, Iharu got to work unbuttoning his shirt.

"Come on, it'd look great in that one corner of the barracks." Iharu gasped as his head collided against the door, stretching his neck to give Reno more room to work with.

"It's definitely not going into the Divisions's personal shrine." Reno growled around the chunk of flesh in between his teeth, thinking about the pile of sacred junk everyone prayed to before missions.

"Aww, you're no fun!" Iharu whined playfully as he got to the last button on the shirt.

Feeling freed from the confines of the shirt, Reno took his cue to drop to his knees in front of Iharu, "Fun? I'll show you fun." He threatened salaciously.

He began to nuzzle against the stretched outline of Iharu's hard cock in the tight pants. Lightly mouthing over it as he gripped and squeezed those firm and defined thighs. Iharu gasped over and over, mainly from shock, as he watched Reno place light kisses over the now wet jeans and went back to fumbling with the stiff leather belt. Reno wasted no time in getting the dark jeans down far enough to free the boxers so he could get to the hard member. Pulling those down too, he let himself take a minute to watch the cock bounce free in front of his face.

Reno couldn't stop himself from biting his lip as he admired it. He tentatively brushed his cheek against the scorching skin before littering it in airy kisses. Airy kisses turned into teasing kitten-licks turned into full-on lapping mouthfuls as he got more confident he was treating Iharu right, if the stuttering and shaking gasps was anything to go by. Reno moved on from the shaft towards the leaking tip and gently sucked it into his wet mouth. He gripped its length and lapped at the salty precum that came out. Reno lightly sucked on the sensitive tip, quietly moaning and eye lids fluttering as he felt Iharu's shaky hands grabbed small fistfuls of his hair and tightened on them.

Reno wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he might have liked dick more than the average person. Even knowing he was gay, there was something about how they were shaped and felt and looked that he couldn't get enough of. He never completely understood that quiet voice in the back of his head that slowly got louder and louder when he was in the bath house with other guys, but since it never really got him in trouble before he just let it simmer in the back of his mind. That was the case until Reno met him. Something broke in the back of his mind when he met Iharu in the recruitment ceremony.

That little voice was quiet at first, but it stunned Reno nonetheless by the fact he hadn't even seen Iharu naked yet. That small voice really wanted to apparently because he couldn't stop himself from trying to see what kind of peak he could sneak every time they got together. For the most part, he just chalked it up to that weird little obsession of his, not wanting to explore any further with it at the risk of accidentally making Iharu uncomfortable. But now that he had it in front of him, he finally understood. To Reno, it looked perfect. The perfect shape, size, color, even taste.

It wasn't ungodly long or wide, just a bit longer than his fist and wide enough that he could still fit his mouth around it. Iharu tasted only slightly bitter, but mostly salty and not to a point it bothered him. Reno even felt a little insane thinking that he even smelled good, not knowing what it was but still wanting more of it. What he liked most about it was the color. A little redder than Iharu's natural skin tone with a bulbous, hot pink tip. How his brain instinctively knew that Iharu's dick was perfect for him, he would never know.

But it certainly made Reno wonder if pink really was his favorite color.

Feeling bolder, he slowly sunk down on Iharu's cock as he tongued the underside of it. He eventually felt it prodding the back of his throat as it made tears well up in his eyes. He tried not to choke on its length while his tongue and lips danced at its base, nose digging into the ghostly patch of fine hair just under Iharu's navel. The hands in Reno's hair began to pull tighter once one of his hands came back up to play with his balls. Iharu began to cry and curse louder as Reno started to slowly bob his head.

"Oh, Fuck!" Iharu growled as his fingers flexed and scratched at Reno's scalp, completely ruining his neatly combed hair

Reno couldn't care about anything right now. His knees were stinging and his pants had long since become uncomfortably tight. His jaw was burning and he could feel his saliva dripping down his chin. One or two tears had fully escaped his eyes and fell down to mix itself in with the rest of the mess he was becoming. He could feel his throat getting sore but the pain did nothing to make him want to stop. Reno could feel the hands on his head getting insistent and made it clear he should pry himself off of Iharu's dick for a second.

"Sorry. Too much?" He looked up and gulped down fresh air, suddenly hearing how rough and strained his voice sounded.

Iharu's eyes went wide as he heard it too, swallowing thickly as his own throat went dry.

"Ye-yeah, just a little. But I also just, um, figured that maybe you'd like a t-turn.' He stuttered over his words as his blood set fire to his face.

"Nope. Fine right where I am, actually." Reno quickly countered as he almost dived right back into action.

Iharu's hands held him in place as he tried to talk again, "What I meant was that I want to switch things up."

"What'd you have in mind?" Reno asked distractedly, already going back to planting tiny pecks on the well slicked cockhead.

"My God, take the fucking hint." Iharu's eyes squeezed as he muttered to the sky, "I-I want you to fuck me..." He trailed off quietly.

Reno did hear him, but seeing that deep blush flare up harder over his lovers face and reach the tips of his ears made him feel like teasing him a little more.

"Oh? Didn't quite catch that." He smirked as his fingers came up to play around with the stiff member again.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me." Iharu hotly groaned as his head slammed against the door again.

"Then I guess you're just gonna have to tell me how to save you then." Reno coaxed as he sinfully dragged his tongue up the cock's slit.

"GOD, I want you to fuck me already!" Iharu shouted.

Reno let out a small giggle before grabbing his embarrassed lover by his knees and lifting him up from the floor. Iharu let out a shocked yelp as he gripped Reno by his shoulders as to lot flop over backwards and send them both falling back to the floor. Carefully marching over to the soft pink bed, Reno playfully slammed Iharu onto it and pulled him close to lather him in another layer of kisses. It didn't last long as he quickly pulled back and took the rest of the shirt off.

"So, how'd you want this to go?" Reno panted as he shifted gears and started to unbutton his pants.

Iharu watched dumbfounded for a moment before rapidly shimmying his pants off as well, "Okay so, ever heard the phrase 'Topping from the bottom'?"

Reno paused out of sudden interest halfway through pulling one leg out of his slacks and almost fell over from a sudden lack of balance, "Yeah. Yeah, I can work with that." He said once he caught himself.

He quickly pulled off the rest of the outfit and practically launched himself at the head of the bed, pushing the pillows back as far as they could go so he could sit upright. He couldn't keep the wild grin from his face as he made an insistent grabby gesture at his lover. Iharu struggled a little bit trying to get the pants with the shoes at the same time. Once he got them off, he aggressively threw them across the room into an available white leather arm chair. He shed the jacket and tossed it in the same direction, but was stopped before he could lose the halter sweater.

"Don't. That stays on till I tell you." Reno rakishly commanded, his gaze heated and his pose openly inviting.

The deep blush Iharu had on his cheeks quickly exploded past the tips of his ears and skyrocketed down and over his shoulders. His jaw dropped open as he matched Reno's heated look with one of sudden fascination. His heart slammed against his chest as he slowly shifted to his hands and knees. He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing visibly as he took his time crawling his way over to Reno's bare and awaiting lap. Straddling his legs once he got closer, Iharu bit down hard on his lip as his gaze sluggishly passed over Reno's excited form. His breath audibly shook once he felt more and more of Reno's cool skin making contact with his over-heated self.

"Hey. Is this still okay?" Reno calmly asked, his gaze softening as his hands came up to sooth Iharu's burning cheeks.

"Yeah, fine." Iharu placated for a second, 'It's just... This might sound stupid now, but-it's one thing to see each other naked at work but it feels entirely different when... when you-"

"Yeah." Reno gently scoffed as he vaguely finished Iharu's sentence for him, "This is... different alright."

Reno's thumbs twitched over Iharu's cheek bones as he quickly licked his lips. He took a short breath before gently pulling on Iharu's face, wordlessly wanting him closer. Taking the hint, Iharu shifted until he was fully seated in Reno's lap and his hands came up to forcefully grip at the pink pillows behind his head. Their gasps were short and shaky as they felt the exchange of their natural temperature clash and ebb out. Moans were choked as they felt their cocks brush up and slide against each other. Reno couldn't bring himself to look away from the alluring show while Iharu's attention was kept on his partner's face.

Feeling an odd twinge of jealousy at the divided attention, Iharu dove forward to brush his nose against Reno's, redirecting his attention. Reno looked up and saw nothing but a wildfire in the depths of his eyes, those pupils blown wide and his orange irises now super-heated ring of melted gold. Iharu's blush had gotten so intense that it turned his skin patchy, like it was the surface of a bubbling river of lava. Almost as if that same river appeared behind him, Reno crashed against Iharu and captured those kissed-plump lips, devouring his mouth like a dead man's last meal. Reno's hands dropped from Iharu's face to his shoulders and then to his hips, promptly tugging him closer and elicited a rough groan from the blushing punk.

Quickly growing unsatisfied with the rough friction, Reno reached out to the side and patted his hand around the top of the nightstand absentmindedly. Once his had brushed up against something resembling a tube, he broke away from the kiss to focus on it and made sure it was what he wanted. It was a small bottle with a flip cap, so he managed to pour out some lube into his hands and started to swirl it around his fingers so it could warm up in his hand. The other hand had come up to assert itself in Iharu's gravity defying hair and pull him back in, the brief absence making Reno hungry for more of their carnal connection.

"Hold on." Iharu suddenly interjected, worry causing him to chew on his lips.

"What, is everything okay?" Reno asked, his eyes searching Iharu's face for any clue for the interruption.

"Look, not to beat a dead horse here, but..." Iharu started as he continued to look anywhere but Reno's face, You're sure you want... to do this? With me, that is. I mean, it's just..." While his words weren't clear themselves, Reno got the impression of what he was trying to communicate.

Reno leaned his head forward until it gently nudged against Iharu's and drew their attention to the present, "And here I thought you'd have enough confidence for the both of us." He puffed out sarcastically, the cheeky grin he had making Iharu roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I ever plan to be nervous about anything, it's just... well... don't make me say it..." Iharu tried to counter before collapsing under the weight of his nerves.

"Hmmmm-First time?" Reno hummed teasingly as the hand in Iharu's hair came down to his cheek.

"Don't say it like that you're not in the same boat! And it doesn't help that you're not acting nervous at all here, so thanks for setting the bar high again." Iharu pouted as he watched Reno force down a giggle.

"Honestly, how do you even do it." Iharu quietly whispered as he nuzzled affectionately into the now warm hand.

Reno's hand drifted further down his face and came to settle around the back of his neck, his thumb lovingly brushing a spot just behind Iharu's ear.

"Because right now... I love you more than I can care about anything else right now." Reno said as his soul was laid bare in his violet eyes.

Iharu's fierce blush fired up again and set more than his face on fire this time, causing the angry splotches to flare up not just over his shoulders now but all the way down his chest. His eyes began to shine and his lip quivered slightly before burying his head in the crook of Reno's neck.

"Fucking suave bastard." He muttered into the cool skin.

"We're trying to, at least." Reno teased.

"Shut up and start fingering me before I run screaming into the night." Iharu muttered a little louder as his arms came to relax around Reno's neck.

Reno giggled a little more as his slicked up hand came around Iharu's back. The other hand massaged the back of his lover's neck as he nosed at what little skin he could reach through the plush sweater collar. Reno drank in the ghostly wafts of the spicy cologne Iharu sported tonight, a pleasantly loud blend of cinnamon, orange oil, and laurel. It smelled wonderful and helped act as a distraction for Reno as his finger started to slowly circle Iharu's asshole. He may not have looked like it, but he was just as nervous on the inside. He may have never been with anyone like this before now, but his main focus in this moment was making sure that tonight was enjoyable for both of them.

With the main concern being that he didn't want to hurt Iharu, Reno started slow, only using light pressure with his middle finger. It slid in easily, more so after he started to piston it and curl around experimentally. The careful actions began to ease out short snippets of whimpers from Iharu as he grew more accustomed to the sensation. He even began to relax and shifted his legs out wider, entrusting more of his weight to be spread over Reno's body. He especially liked it when the movement caused their cocks to rub together again and drew out another shaky gasp from the man under him.

"Still feeling okay?" Reno asked as he teased a second finger at the entrance.

"Yeah." Iharu sighed blissfully, "Definitely feels different when someone else is taking charge."

"Oh?" Reno caught on to the implication with interest, "Do you do this to yourself often?"

Iharu's body jolted a little as he realized what he said, "Sh-shut up." he quietly stuttered.

"Nah, I wanna hear more of this." Reno chuckled, "Do you do it often? Do you do it in the bathhouse when no one is looking? Don't tell me you wait to mess around in the barracks when everyone else is asleep." He continued to whisper teasingly into Iharu's ear, causing him to whimper louder and louder with each insinuation.

"Everyone's out like a light at that point!" Iharu openly whined, "It's not like anyone can hear me over all the snoring anyway!"

"But I'm right under you." Reno continued to investigate, "And you know I'm a light sleeper. You can't tell me that you've been doing this for a while and I haven't caught you before." With how close their chests were, he could almost feel how fast Iharu's heart rate spiked when he said that. Added on to the fact that Iharu had suddenly decided to hold back on his cute little noises, Reno started to develop the feeling that he was on to something.

"Or have I?" He teased as he finally slipped in the second finger, "Those little late night talks of ours? The ones where I hear you call my name out first? Is that you? Are you trying to cover up what you're doing, spreading yourself open as you call out my name?" Iharu bit his lip in an attempt not to openly moan, not wanting to let Reno catch on too easily to how much he was enjoying this.

"You dirty perv." Reno quietly provoked as his fingers bottomed out in Iharu's ass, "You've been getting away with this for how long? Calling out my name all those times?" The sudden intrusion broke Iharu's concentration and caused a sharp gasp to be punched out of him.

"Wish you would have told me sooner." Reno smirked as he began to nibble on an earlobe, "Would've liked to come up to your level. Maybe I could've helped you keep quiet." He tacked on as he brushed the tip of his tongue along the shell of Iharu's ear.

Iharu's moans were still on the shaky side of things, but nothing stopped him from rocking back onto Reno's confident fingers. He didn't move very far, just enough to make the fingers inside him bottom out with every stroke and slide their stiff lengths together. Precum began to leak out of both of them as they got caught up in the erotic movement, making the grind feel smoother. Feeling bold, Reno briefly scissored Iharu open just enough to slide in a third finger and catch him unaware. Iharu openly moaned at the surprising stretch as he pushed all the way down without a second thought.

"A-ahh!" Iharu groaned as he started to shake in his hold.

"So smart of you to take us somewhere special. Don't have to worry about getting caught." Reno panted as he felt more and more turned on by his lover's precious noises, "Be as loud as you want babe... wanna hear you." He began to nip and suckle dark spots on all the sensitive areas of Iharu's neck that he could reach.

"Ah fuck!" Iharu continued to let out choked gasps right by Reno's ear as he felt the fingers inside him flex and move around, almost brushing against his prostate.

"So smart. So warm. So pretty. And it's all for me, isn't it?" Reno continued to praise him as he flexed his fingers some more, trying his best to find that one spot that would finally send Iharu over the edge and make him spill.

"Fuck! Fuck, wait!" Iharu choked down a heated cry just so he could gather the strength to push away from Reno to make a point. He almost forgot what he was about to say and nearly caved to darker interests when he heard a low and irritated growl rumble out from Reno's throat.

"Just want you in me first before I come, that's all!" Iharu blurted out in a rush, having been caught off guard by how Reno's almost primal glare was making him feel.

An audible gulp was heard when he saw Reno's veiled sneer turned into a motivated grin. Reno pulled out his fingers gently and poured more lube on his hand before he gave his sensitive cock a couple of deft tugs. The punk braced himself by gripping Reno's shoulders as he shifted himself just enough to line up with the eager dick under him. Reno stopped and moved his hand so he could line himself up with Iharu's slick and twitching entrance. As he pulled his legs up behind Iharu for added support, Reno wiped off the excess lube onto the back of his thigh.

Reno pulled his other hand down and slowly gripped the other's waist. He took a long moment to admire the deep and pronounced hip dips that Iharu had and how he loved the way his thumb and palm slotted nicely into them. Iharu forced himself to breathe evenly as he slowly sank down onto the offered cock. Both of their bodies began to tremor from the unfamiliar sensation, the glide of it all feeling incredibly smooth and warm. Heady pants and electrified gasps filled the small room as Iharu managed to keep a steady pace of sinking down a little at a time before backing up slightly.

Iharu's eyes were screwed shut as he voiced his pleasure to the ceiling, hands tightly gripping the other man's shoulders to the point they left crescent nail marks in the skin. Reno couldn't tear his eyes away from the delicious sight of Iharu's body taking him in a little at a time. He bit the inside of his cheek for focus, forcing himself not to roughly buck up into the wet and welcoming heat. Iharu was silently glad that Reno added that third finger at the last second, thinking that this would have taken longer had he not. Reno wasn't long which felt like a small blessing in the moment, but he was certainly wide.

Once Iharu had finally sat all the way down on the hard cock, he immediately grinded on it, vocally relishing the full feeling it had carved into his stomach. His moans became intensely pitchy because of that, and made himself take a moment to come back down from the sudden high it caused. Reno hissed as his grip on his hips became all the tighter, almost to the point he wondered if it was going to leave a bruise. Iharu's hands released their grip and slowly traveled down Reno's arms, reflexively gripping his biceps as they passed, and settled down close to his wrists. Taking the hint, Reno loosened his grip and instead made his hands massage Iharu's taut stomach.

Reno pulled his legs up some more as he leaned forward, practically sandwiching Iharu with his body. Iharu whimpered at the movement, ass twitching around the cock inside him as he helped pull Reno closer. Reno stretched his neck as far as he could once they were close enough and bit the pink ribbon at the back of Iharu's neck. He could only grab at the loop of it, so it took some harsh tugging and yanking to pull enough ribbon out of its knot. Iharu giggled a little at the irritated grunts and huffs Reno was making as he chewed the bow loose. He eventually had enough and just reached up to finish it off before biting the collar in the end to pull it away. His hand went back down quickly, but Reno took his time pushing the sweater's hem up Iharu's super heated body.

Reno couldn't help but gasp once he saw the lithe expanse of Iharu's flushed chest. It had gone fully red at this point, From the tips of his ears and hairline, almost all the way down to his navel looked like Iharu had been dunked in red Kool-aid that had stained his skin. Drawing his eyes back up, Reno even noticed that it has even spread to his shoulders a little. When their eyes met, Reno felt he got sucked in to whatever world Iharu was floating through at this moment. With a heavy gaze and blown pupils, lips parted and shiny from spit, Iharu looked gone. His head feeling so far above the clouds it made him wonder how he could still breathe. His gaze was warm, his body felt hot, and Reno was prepared to dive into the fire.

Reno leaned forward and started to slowly lap at Iharu's chest, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses right over his heart. His hand came up to the other side of the chest and immediately began to squeeze at the small pec that he had found there. Teasing his thumb over the rounded nub, Reno moved his mouth's attention to the other side and suckled on the other nipple. Iharu grunted at the ministrations, his hands coming back to rest around Reno's shoulders. Iharu's hips began to twitch and grind when he felt Reno move from gentle rubbing and licking, to pinching, twisting and biting. Once Reno switched sides, his now unoccupied hand slid back down to Iharu's hip and pulled on it. He groaned hotly when he felt Iharu's dripping cock press up against his abs and made his ass twitch around his in tandem.

Already feeling like he was close, Iharu tried to move things along as he rose up on shaky knees and carefully slammed down, bouncing as he hit bottom. This punched a heady moan out of the both of them, with Reno's bruising grip making a return appearance. Iharu continued to chase that feeling, that feeling of being stuffed full over and over again as he rocked up and down at an even pace. Reno leaned back against the pillows as both his hands came back to Iharu's waist. Reno held them tight as he snapped his own hips up to match their pace, slamming him down on his cock and drawing out louder and louder moans. Iharu felt like he couldn't get enough but knew he could take things further.

Leaning forward and pressing their heaving chest together, Iharu captured Reno's lips as he felt the cock inside him hit at a different angle. Tongues lashed in between breathy moans as he finally felt Reno's stiff length bash at his prostate. Reno shifted his hips just enough to bring extra power into their thrusts, sending Iharu spiraling. A hand left its home on Iharu's hip and snaked its way in between them to roughly tug on the weeping cock bouncing against Reno's stomach. Iharu started to openly curse now, broken and choppy curses were hotly ghosting past Reno's ear.

"Ah, ha-fuck! Ah, FUCK! Cl-close. I'm close." Iharu gasped as he couldn't stop himself from bucking in both directions, chasing the delicious friction from Reno's hand and the electrified hammer-strikes he felt from his cock hitting deep inside.

"Do it." Reno commanded in that moment, "Told you I wanted to watch you make a mess- fuck!" He rasped as he felt Iharu twitch suddenly as his thrusts melted out of rhythm.

The other hand came up to grip Iharu's hair as Reno let him chase his high on his own. He definitely felt close, but wanted to be present enough to watch Iharu fall from his blissed out precipice. Reno's eyes kept switching from Iharu's messy cock to the tight and tense expression he held as he fought to break apart from the building heat in his core. With shaking legs and a victorious cry, Iharu freed himself from the mounting tension within him and came hot and hard all over Reno's chest.

Any strength Iharu needed to hold himself up with vanished as his orgasm dissipated through his exhausted body. His arms crashed against the pillows behind them as he slumped all of his weight onto Reno. The both of them were panting heavily, feeling numb to anything else outside of the still present and intense body heat between them. Reno had to bite his lip against any noise he may have wanted to make as he felt Iharu's dick rub some of his sticky load over more of his abs. He mentally thanked his balls for their service as he felt his body naturally back away from what would have been a similar explosion of passion, but hadn't reached the edge in time to join Iharu.

"Shhhhuuu...wow. Just... wow." Iharu babbled as he was at a loss for words.

"Yeah." Reno pathetically agreed. They stayed there, lifeless and tired for a moment, as they drank in the post-nut atmosphere.

"Damn, and here I was hoping to last a little longer." Iharu breathlessly admitted once he managed to scrape together enough braincells to use.

"You lasted plenty long. A lot longer than I figured, definitely." Reno tried to comfort as he lazily patted at the now ruined mohawk.

"Yeah, but I mean..." Iharu started as he shifted his hips and drew attention to the still very excited cock in his ass, "I wanted you to come with me." He whimpered

Reno bit back a pained chuckle the sensation brought out of him, "Probably for the best though. Kinda forgot protection in the heat of the moment."

"Aw, come on! It's Valentine's day." Iharu giggled as he brought his head to rest against Reno's forehead, "Don't ya wanna live a little?" He teased as he wiggled his ass.

"Fuck." Reno choked as his grip on the mohawk tightened for a brief second, "You want it that bad? How about you work for it?" He challenged.

"Wish." Iharu groaned as his eyes rolled around sleepily, "Legs are shot."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you at all." Reno grunted as he felt Iharu clench around his stiff dick.

"Hmm. May not be able to move..." Iharu enticed in a challenging tone, "But I think I can come up with a few ways to make you take the lead."

Iharu began to circle his hips in an intoxicatingly slow rhythm, just barely slipping Reno's cock in and out of his twitching entrance. He mimicked the open-mouthed kisses that Reno used on his chest and started to abuse the opportunity to mark more of his neck with love bites. Sensuously dragging his pointed teeth and tongue over Reno's sensitive pulse spot, he occasionally puffed hot air over it to highlight the change in temperature and send shivers down his spine. Reno gritted his teeth as his hands made their way back to Iharu's hips again, whether to stop the torturous ministrations or help them, he wasn't sure. His patience grew ever thinner as the methodical grinding also dragged Iharu's dick through the spent cum on his stomach, reminding him why he was such a mess for this man in the first place.

The longer Reno thought about it, the more excuses came to mind. Iharu did most of the work, so it only makes sense that Reno returns the favor. He was so close before, it surely wouldn't take much to catch back up. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to watch Iharu make that pretty face again, the one he makes when he's just starting to feel good and everything's hitting just right. Instead of his hands staying at Iharu's hips this time, they traveled just a little lower and groped at his taut thighs and relished how they felt in Reno's hands. He pulled the thighs apart, somehow creating just enough room for his cock to slide in a little further.

"Come on, that's all you got?" Iharu scoffed right in his ear, "You can do better than that." He seated his ass as far down as it could and squeezed sporadically, feeling it make Reno's body shudder harder.

"What, like you haven't had enough tonight?" Reno countered as he bit back some loud grunts. He felt himself trying to fight the challenge Iharu had silently put forward, not wanting to give in so easily.

"Look, the sex was sweet and all, and don't get me wrong-I enjoyed the hell out of it-" Iharu started to moan in earnest again as he ground back on the violently twitching dick, "but haven't you ever wanted to go apeshit on someone?"

"I don't... don't want to hurt you." Reno countered as a pathetic excuse to hold back.

Of course he wanted to. He had wanted to since the alley. He knew Iharu could take it, but he didn't want to take things too far on the off chance he could ruin it. He loved Iharu, but he couldn't love himself if he did something that could break what they had. He needed it now, more than ever. That close, competitive, bond that drove them both to extremes, but with the knowledge that they would go through those extremes together. If Reno ever broke, he needed to know that Iharu would be lying there next to him being just as broken as he was, but still holding on to the dedication and determination needed to put the both of them back together again.

"Jokes on you, dumbass." Iharu growled as he came up to face Reno, a ring studded hand coming up to grip his partner's hair.

"I'm into that shit." He dove for Reno's lips, brutishly shoving his tongue inside.

Reno quickly reciprocated, groaning hotly as they fought for dominance in the inviting heat he offered. Fingers flexed and dug deep into the meat of Iharu's thighs, making him positive that there were going to be bruises there later. Iharu lashed his tongue around the inside of Reno's mouth as a hand dragged itself from around the other's neck and scraped its fingernails down his chest. The bite of the pain paired with the smooth grinding sent Reno up the wall, making his heart launch into overdrive. Both of Iharu's hands came around and started to play with Reno's chest, skipping straight past teasing his nipples and going right to twist them just enough to make him cry out from shock.

With that familiar searing tension building up in his core, Reno couldn't take being idle any longer and finally snapped. He flipped the two of them over roughly, practically folding Iharu in half as he now rested against the wall of pillows behind them. Reno's hands moved to the back of his thighs as he pushed them as far as he could, almost having them reach the punk's ears. He set a brutal pace from the start, having grown far past the point of compassion and wanting to reclaim the high he had almost lost before. The sound of shin hitting skin would have echoed throughout the room had it not been overshadowed by the increase of loud, raspy moaning.

"Oh fucking finally!" Iharu cried as he felt the air getting punched out of his lungs by the new position.

Amused giggles were cut short as his brain short-circuited once he felt how much bigger Reno felt in this way. Iharu's crazed and rapturous moans were nothing in comparison to the almost feral growling Reno was making. His hands scrambled to reach around to Reno's back, digging his short fingernails into the defined muscles found there. Reno leaned forward to give his lover more space to claw at, pinning his shaking legs in between his equally shaky arms and shoulders. Reno fought for strength as he railed Iharu, breathing fiery groans down his lover's neck. The muscles in his stomach felt like they were going to cramp at the rate he was pushing himself.

"Fuck, that's it Sweet Heart. Take what you want, it's all yours." Iharu huffed out as he grew closer to another orgasm.

Hearing his blissful words, Reno pulled his head back just enough to kiss him again. As much as he wanted too, he couldn't really keep up with both actions as he felt his rhythm go awry and his kiss being nothing more tongue-filled panting. Drawing closer to another finish, Iharu raked his fingers down Reno's back again which was just enough stimulation to send both of them spiraling. Reno came with a loud and low cry, fingers nearly ripping the pillows he was gripping apart. Iharu matched him point for point with tears in his eyes, shaking uncontrollably from the overstimulation. Reno was in the same boat as his head dropped to Iharu's chest as he gulped for air.

They were spent, exhausted, and most importantly happy. Iharu felt like he wanted to laugh, but couldn't find the energy to breathe in the first place. Reno was trying his best not to fall over and completely smoosh Iharu, but it was turning into an uphill battle. The least he could do in that moment was carefully slide Iharu's legs off his shoulders and give the man some room to actually breathe. Moving his legs however brought a lot of attention to the fact that Reno really did cum inside, and while he was pleased with the idea of it, the sensation was a different matter.

"Happy now?" Reno teased as he winced, attempting and immediately regretting the decision to try and adjust their positions.

"Oh, come on. Don't say it like you didn't enjoy making this mess." Iharu smirked as every muscle fiber in his body went slack.

"Can't lie about that, can I?" Reno joked as kept his head down, committing the image of their white stained stomachs to memory.

He made himself power through the exhaustion long enough to slowly pull out and lie down next to Iharu. Both of them met each other's eyes and admired that domestically hazy look in them. Reno brought a hand up to play with some errant strands of pink hair that had glued themselves to Iharu's forehead. His lover closed his eyes at the gentle touch and sighed, content.

"Hey." Reno quietly called out, making Iharu crack an eye back open.

"I love you." He revealed.

Iharu giggled, "Figured you did, dummy. Didn't think this would happen if ya didn't."

"Make a man cum twice and this is the thanks I get." Reno muttered as he turned away indignantly.

"Hey, wait, come on!" Iharu continued to laugh as he reached a hand over to pull Reno back to face him.

Reno rolled back over and hit him with the most tender expression he thought possible. Seeing it made Iharu's previous levels of blushing looked pale in comparison. Suddenly getting nervous about speaking, Iharu leaned forward to bury his face into the crook of Reno's arm. After breathing in his natural scent made him calm down, Iharu finally poked his head out just enough to look Reno in the eye.

"I love you too."

After the two of them cleaned themselves up they laid there in the bed for a while, talking about everything under the sun. It went on long enough that Iharu eventually fell asleep. Reno had paid for the full night out of precaution anyway, now thankful that he did. He never really got the chance to watch Iharu sleep like this since they used bunk beds back at base. As rough around the edges as he likes to act, his face when he was sleeping looked deceptively angelic. Reno pulled the sheets up higher and pulled Iharu closer, tucking both of them safely in his arms.

Morning came around and as usual Reno was the first to wake up. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he woke up to the fact that neither of them had moved at all during the night. With his biological alarm clock telling him that the front desk would be calling soon, Reno mentally prepared himself to start moving. Planting a quick kiss to Iharu's forehead, Reno shifted down to the end of the bed and made his way over to the shower. He kept it short, wanting to get back out into the room before Iharu started to wake up. He gathered and vaguely organized their clothes, sliding on the pants from last night. He got the shirt on, but didn't button it yet as he reached back down for something else.

"Damn. Showered without me?" Iharu groaned sleepily as he stretched out on the bed.

"Morning to you to, Bed Head." Reno teased as he slid on Iharu's leather jacket.

Iharu rubbed his eyes as he watched his new boyfriend get dressed, "Now hold on. Just what do you think you're doing?" He commented as he noticed his jacket draped over the wrong person.

"Hm? Borrowing your jacket. It's cold out there you know." Reno deflected deceptively, knowing full well what he was doing.

"Nuh uh, not that jacket. Any other jacket I own but that one." Iharu playfully demanded as he pulled his bare form out of bed.

"But it's already so cozy. You don't want your boyfriend to freeze, do you?" Reno pouted in defiance as he batted his eye lashes.

"You... and I... both know that you have no problem with the cold." Iharu stalked him slowly, making Reno back up until he hit the wall behind them.

Iharu got incredibly close, so close their breaths mixed in the slim space between their lips. He forcefully planted his hands on either side of Reno, effectively caging him in. Not that Reno seemed to mind as his eyes dropped to the bright pink lips before him.

"Tell you what." Iharu began as he slotted a leg in the middle of Reno's stance, "You want it that bad? I'll fight ya for it."

Needless to say that Reno didn't get to keep the jacket in the end. Iharu was just too attached to the precious garment. However, he had no problem with the opposing trade off that was offered instead. Reno like to think that the pink sweater Iharu walked in with framed the claw marks that punk gave him on his back and shoulders quite nicely.

And yes, they did steal the lava lamp.

[777heavengirl]

Bless the Telephone ; ##04

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,163

warnings: none?

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVE- ummm did break up with my boyfriend, after spiraling for a week i am feeling much better! I did what was right for me and i am happier for it!! JAMES OR SIRIUS WOULD HAVE NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THAT! so yea I'm back :D thank you for putting up with my disappearances i should be uploading SEMI regularly just bc classes r in full throttle now

series masterlist

main masterlist

It hadn't been as difficult as you thought. Getting rid of Josh was a pending item on your to-do list for months. But for some reason or another, you never could, not completely. More often than not, he’d find some weak spot in your resolve, and crawl back in like a cockroach. 

But not this time, at least not yet. After that day, when James’s call saved you from a bit of an uncomfortable situation, you managed to easily avoid his calls, if he knocked at the door Charlotte and you stayed unbearably still until he went away. He left voicemail after voicemail, called Charlotte’s phone with a bit more anger, and called your phone with crocodile tears. 

But you weren't sweating it. You had fallen into an easy pattern with James, he’d fill the time that you would've been itching to fill and end up calling Josh out of boredom. 

James was a good friend! At least that's what you’d tell Charlotte. She’d look at you with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that you ignored. If only she was so keen and observant with women that she liked, she tended to lack awareness often. 

You didn’t dare tell her about the playful jabs, the comments you didn't dare label fully as flirty, or god forbid the butterflies that fluttered at the pit of your stomach every time he called, laughed, or gave you some stupid cloying nickname. 

“Come on pretty- just tell me” You could hear the pout in his voice

You groaned in defeat, “Okay okay- if I had to be any creature…” You thought about it for a second more “Potter this is stupid”

“Indulge me”

You sighed “Fine, I think I would be… a witch”

“That's not a creature love”

“Well they are to me”

“I know a few that would be greatly offended by that comment” he retorted

“Oh yeah? You’re friends with witches?” you mirrored the smirk you heard in his voice

“Quite a few actually, nasty women the lot of them…” James smiled, thinking of his friends. How Marlene would probably flick the side of his head, and Lily would wholeheartedly just roll her eyes. Dorcas would definitely send a book flying straight to his head if she heard, not that she hadn't done that often enough during their time at school. It was always deserved. “love them nevertheless though- Pick something else, witches are human”

You hmph in disagreement and thought about it momentarily

“I don't think it would be very pleasant to be a werewolf you know? A bit inconvenient-” you thought out loud

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said under his breath

“Vampires sound kind of cool… wouldn't be able to go out into the sun though so that's quite a shame” James hummed in agreement “Maybe a mermaid, they’re pretty right?”

“Allegedly, they’re more scary than anything else- foul foul creatures” The ones in the Black Lake had messed with him more than once. 

“Oh, what do you know Potter?”

“Quite a lot thank you- more than you anyway”

“And why do you think that? Mermaids aren't scary dummy”

“You say that because you haven't seen one pretty” James’s mouth was faster than his thoughts, he prayed you’d just laugh it off.

“Oh, and I suppose you have?” He slapped himself on the forehead as he thought of some excuse. The witches' comment he was able to get away with, maybe his tone had been too matter-o-fact.

“Well, yes I have!” he said, confidently, ironically. You started laughing, his worry melted away. Would you even believe him if he told you?

“Is that so? Well okay, what creature would you be Potter?”

“A hippogriff I think”

“What the hell is that?” James burst out in laughter

-

You could feel Charlotte’s eyes on you as you scooped ice cream into your lips. You focused on the cold chocolatey flavor and whatever movie she had found. You didn’t know what you were watching, you thought of James.

James and his stupid laugh, and the way he always called you pretty or doll or some other completely repulsive nickname you wanted to hate. But you couldn't. He was sweet, and he always asked how you were, after he found out about your roommate’s existence, he asked about her too. 

“y/n”

“yes charlotte?”

“What does he look like? is he cute? Is he tall? I reckon that’s an important one with men is it not” you groaned as she launched question after question

“Char, I already told you I don't know anything about him”

“But you talk all day, every day” She scoffed

“It’s not every day- nor is it all day I have things to do you know”

“It is though, every bloody day, you come in and launch yourself at the telephone like clockwork” You stared at your pint of ice cream, suppressing the small laugh that threatened to leave your lips. 

You felt a tad silly.

“It’s just-” You started to say, Charlotte leaned in with an excited smile on her lips as if egging you on. “It feels stupid, I could be getting totally scammed right now- sure he sounds young, and sure he said he’s twenty- but he could be anyone, anywhere” 

“Let’s think about it though- you guys talk a lot he has to be in England no? Calls out are so expensive” She grabbed the pint of ice cream from your hands, shoving a spoonful into her mouth. 

“That doesn’t change anything Char, I don't know him” She waved the spoon around dismissively. For someone who was so cynical about her own love life, Charlotte was always ready to be invested in yours. You never minded though, you were happy to bond over the raging disaster that it seemed to be.

“You guys have never thought about meeting up? You haven’t even talked about it?” You shifted uncomfortably as she wiggled her eyebrows “Have you even asked him what he looks like?” You took the ice cream tub back, shoving ice cream into your mouth

“We’re missing the movie y’know?” She scoffed at your weak attempt to change the subject

“As if I care about that- come on, you’re rolling in laughter every time you’re on that damn phone so there is clearly some chemistry there”

“So what I also have chemistry with circus clowns?” You said, turning to give her a deadpan stare. 

“You know what I mean” She took the ice cream back

“What if I meet up with him and he kidnaps me…” she offered you the last few scrapes left in the tub. When you shook your head she ate it gingerly, a small smile on her face. “Suddenly I’m in the arctic tundra being trafficked”

“As long as it's not with Josh,” she shrugged her shoulders “I reckon anything is better,” she said, snorting 

“You’re terrible” You both fell into laughter

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda @nahhhwhatthefrick @notapoetjustscar @hiireadstuff @the-rat-king1902 @n1ght-vngel @littlewhitel1es @rreporterbby

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR WEEKS AND I DID MY BEST TO COLLECT EVERYONE AHHHH thank you for reading <3

[littlelamy]

rafe spiraling at the house party because you’re there with your new bf and he’s jealous and he’s all like “if you wanna whisper some bullshit behind my back why don’t you just say it to my face” and he hates that smug look on your face it infuriates him. the fact that you’re able to move on from him and his blood boils just thinking about it

a/n: im think of making a pt.2 where he begs to get you back but idk🤭 thank you for sending a request!!

the music’s pounding in your chest, the low hum of conversation filling the air as you laugh at something your boyfriend just said. you feel a bit lighter tonight, like you can breathe, finally moving on from all the chaos rafe brought into your life. but as you glance across the room, you lock eyes with him, and all that ease disappears.

rafe is leaning against the kitchen counter, jaw tight, eyes dark. he’s been staring at you for the longest, barely blinking, his grip so tight on the cup in his hand you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. he looks furious, like he can barely keep it together.

"fuckin’ knew she was gonna be here," you hear him mutter to topper, his voice slurred with alcohol and anger. topper shakes his head, tries to calm him down, but rafe’s already in his head, spiraling.

you can see the storm brewing from across the room, but you don’t care. at least, you tell yourself you don’t. you stand a little closer to your boyfriend, let your hand brush his arm, all while keeping an eye on rafe. you know what he’s like when he’s pissed off, and tonight’s no exception.

suddenly, rafe pushes off the counter, stumbling forward until he’s in the middle of the room. his eyes never leave you. the noise of the party dulls, or maybe it’s just that all your attention is on him now, the way he’s zeroed in on you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment.

he doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you, his chest heaving like he’s holding back every insult he’s been dying to spit out.

"if you wanna whisper some bullshit behind my back, why don’t you just say it to my face?" he growls, slapping his cheek. his voice is venomous, dripping with jealousy, and his eyes flick from you to your boyfriend, barely concealing the rage underneath.

your boyfriend stands a little taller, his arm shifting like he’s about to say something, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him before he gets involved. this isn’t his fight.

“what’s your problem, rafe?” you ask calmly, that smug smile already tugging at your lips because you know exactly what’s driving him insane. you can see it, feel it radiating off him—he can’t stand seeing you with someone else.

rafe steps closer, the scent of alcohol strong on his breath. “my problem?” he scoffs, taking another step forward until he’s right in your face. “my fuckin’ problem is you, princess. standing here with the punk like it doesn’t even fuckin’ matter.”

topper’s behind him, pulling at his shoulder, whispering something in his ear, but rafe shrugs him off like he doesn’t even feel it. “get the fuck off me,” he snaps, brushing topper’s hand away. “i’m not done.”

you stay rooted in place, meeting his gaze without flinching. he hates that, how unfazed you seem, like you’re not even bothered by his presence.

“you don’t scare me anymore, rafe,” you say, voice steady but laced with a bitterness that matches his anger. “you don’t get to control me.”

“control?” rafe’s eyes narrow. “i wasn’t tryin’ to control shit. i was tryin’ to fuckin’ love you, and you—” he stops himself, jaw clenching, his fists balling at his sides as he grits out, “you just threw it all away.”

the smugness in your smile only grows. “i threw it away?” you laugh under your breath, stepping closer to him, closing the gap so it’s just you and him in this moment. you lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “you should’ve treated me right when you had me.”

rafe stiffens at your words, his breath catching in his throat as you pull back, locking eyes with him. he doesn’t say anything for a second, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to do with all the emotions flooding his system. his blood is boiling, you can practically see it in the way his skin flushes, the way his hands tremble.

“fuck you,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes flash with something dark, something dangerous. “you’ll come back. you always do.”

topper’s back at his side now, grabbing him with more force, dragging him away from you before things get any worse. rafe fights it for a second, his eyes still locked on you, but eventually, he stumbles back, letting topper pull him out of the room.

but even as he’s led away, you can feel the intensity of his gaze on you. his world is spiraling, crashing down, and all because of you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

WE'RE... WHAT?? ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

summary:

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: part two of the series is out! im procrastinating the shit out of all my other requests so im not ignoring any of you btw!! lets all collectively ignore the fact that gracie like a post that has a lyric from her song (also damn im really just smashing out these fics)

"y/n has officially flitted off to boston!" clarisse announces suddenly from chris's lap.

"huh?" grover's head snaps up. "what do you mean?"

"y/n l/n, she's come to boston for her concerts," clarisse says showing her phone screen.

"you have got to be shitting me," chris says. "this is going to end terribly. seriously? here? boston? percy's gonna shit himself."

"oh really why would you think that?" clarisse drawls. "it's not like they don't like each other, they're like besties!"

"and y'know to make things worse y/n's setlist has been posted for months so we legit could've avoided her," chris sighs.

"yeah well, next time you see percy and he comes home grumbling about a business meeting in boston you deal with it then," grover argues.

"okay all of you shut it, percy's coming inside with luke so shhh," clarisse snaps.

"shh about what?" luke asks settling down on the couch next to grover.

"you'll never believe who's in boston!" grover sing songs. it doesn't take luke very long to work out who and his eyes widen in realisation

"no."

"yes."

"well shit."

"yep."

"we're in for a show."

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase and 1, 402, 385 others

percyjackson hello boston! one non-reschedulable meeting later and here we are...

view all comments

underovergrover i expect full compensation for making those pizzas WHICH YOU TOOK CREDIT FOR

percyjackson YOU DID NOT! I MADE HALF OF THOSE - MINE WERE BETTER

clarisse.la.rue no they weren't

percyjackson 🖕🏼

user1 ugh im in love

user2 omggg he's in boston!! so is y/n l/n!! are they following each other around?

user3 PLS I WOULD DIE MAKE THIS A THING

user4 i wonder if he's going to a concert here?? 😏

user5 does anyone else find it weird how his entire friend group follows him around?? no just me? they're just a huge freak show

user6 booooo we dont like haters here

user7 y/n l/n and percy neeeeed to happen rnnnn

user8 YES YES YES

lukecastellan im so ready to be done with this shit and go home

theannabethchase aww is someone feeling homesick?

lukecastellan yes obviously

user8 i. love. him.

☾. ⋅

"see i told you this would happen!" grover screeches, running away from percy who is threatening to castrate him if he doesn't get his phone back.

"i don't care! just give me the damn thing back!"

percy had groaned for two straight minutes when he found out that y/n was in boston this weekend - he had also face planted onto the couch and used some extremely obscene words.

"if it helps at least you'll be leaving on sunday," chris had offered in the midst of his crisis. it didn't help.

so now when grover trips over a fallen pillow - which may or may not be from percy's tantrum but we don't talk about that - and percy wrenches the phone from him a loud - and might grover add overtly girly - scream.

"WHAT THE FUCK? NO! NO NO NO NO!"

his screen is on the article grover had opened with really poorly photoshopped images of percy and y/n walking together. every gossip site/blog has swarmed the photos and circulated them sending the internet into a spiral.

"im fucking done with this grover," percy groans flopping onto the couch. "its a good thing we're leaving tomorrow - we'll be back in new york thats a huge ass city i wont see y/n there again and i can just go into hibernation, let all the rumours die down and be done with this whole shit show."

if only right....

☾. ⋅

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel, gracieabrams and 932, 841 others

yn.official feel like maybe i might go to boston! you were the best audience and im honoured to have performed for you these past two nights! heading home now to rest and recharge for the final shows in new york

view all comments

lia.mandel yayy you're finally coming home i missed you 🥺

yn.official bitch please its been like a week

lia.mandel and every second of it has been torture

user1 MOTHERRRR

user2 i think i nearly fainted when she came up on stage i was so happy i coulda died right then-

user3 the lyric makes me so happyyy

user4 ikrr y/n is like the queen of lyrics and the way she sneakily adds them into her posts 🤭

user5 WERE YOU WITH PERCY JACKSON THIS WEEKEND?? 🤨 I NEED TO KNOW

user6 y/n and percy are my dream celebrity ship

user7 they'd be the biggest power couple in history

user8 can you hard launch with percy plss?? i dont care if its fake i just need content to feed my delusions!

☾. ⋅

lia's soft snores fill the plane aggravating the hell out of you. usually you'd find the way she curled up in a ball underneath a blanket and snored quietly to be adorable. but since you're tired, just finished performing a concert and there's a problem with the jet, its grating on your nerves.

you had also been scrolling on twitter, instagram and pinterest, curled up underneath a matching blanket urging something to catch your attention while whatever work was being done on the plane happened.

unfortunately for you the thing that did catch your attention was the dozens of very clearly photoshopped pictures of you and percy walking together on a quiet street in boston.

no way in hell thats real. for one; ew and two; percy was only here for the weekend you were here for the week and you would've had no time to go out in between concerts.

eventually you doze off not realising you're in the air until you're ears pop waking you up to lia grinning mischievously.

"what asshole?"

"you're adorable when you wake up, you know that right?"

"yes i know."

"seriously the cutest human on the planet."

"what do you want lia?"

"a gossip podcast has picked up the subject of you and percy jackson. and the host is saying shit about you."

your eyes widen for a moment. "oh my god what? wow its almost as if i don't care!" ypu give lia a blank look. "this happens every three months lia, i do something and people either love it or hate it. thats the way it goes."

"yeah but this is PERCY JACKSON Y/N! he's gorgeousness personified."

"ugh can i go back to sleep? you can fangirl to me tomorrow when im in bed and pretending to listen."

"im offended." she leans over to place a kiss on your head. "but sleep tight babes, we land in like forty minutes."

shutting your eyes again you drift back to sleep.

only when you wake up do you realise you dreamed of percy...

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus, @avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, [if you want to be added just let me know!]

[phfenomena]

❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

[theonottsbxtch]

CHICAGO PT.3 | OP81

an: I LIED IT'LL BE FOUR PARTS IM HOOKED ON WRITING THIS STORY RAHHHH. POSTING THIS BEFORE BED TIME AND IM SO AHHHHHHHHHH!

wc: 6k

warnings: panic attack

part one | part two |

Oscar sat in the half-lit quiet of his apartment, a glass of whiskey in hand, its amber warmth forgotten in his grip. His laptop sat open on the coffee table, displaying emails he hadn’t touched in hours, their urgency faded into the background noise of his thoughts. It had been weeks since the conversation with Lando in the driver’s room, but the memory of it lingered in his mind like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

He’d done everything he could to bury the unsettling thoughts since then. Her voice, her soft reassurances, had done their job—at least temporarily. She had always known how to pull him back, how to soothe the churning inside him with just a few words. But now, in the stillness of his apartment, with no race day adrenaline to distract him, the questions began to rise again, clawing at the back of his mind.

A sharp knock on the door broke his spiral of thoughts. Oscar blinked, dragging himself back into the present. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and for a brief moment, a flicker of irritation sparked. He wasn’t in the mood for company. But then he heard Logan’s familiar voice from the other side, jovial and carefree.

“Oscar, buddy, open up!”

With a reluctant sigh, Oscar stood up, downing the rest of his whiskey in one swallow before heading to the door. He opened it to find Logan grinning, holding a six-pack of beer in one hand.

“Thought I’d drop by, see what you’ve been up to,” Logan said as he strolled inside without waiting for an invitation, clearly comfortable in the space. “Figured you’d be brooding alone in here.”

“Is that what people think of me now?” Oscar asked with a wry smile, trying to keep the mood light. He closed the door behind Logan, though his earlier unease hadn’t fully left him.

Logan plopped down on the couch, dropping the beer on the table and cracking one open for himself. “Well, you’ve been a bit... distant since Chicago, haven’t you?” He took a long swig of his beer, then set it down. “But that’s why I’m here. Thought I’d snap you out of it.”

Oscar forced a laugh and sat down next to him, trying to ignore the twist in his gut. “Yeah, just a lot on my plate lately.”

Logan nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. The season’s brutal this year. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Feels like it,” Oscar muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

There was a brief silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the city outside, and for a moment, it felt almost comfortable—almost. Oscar reached for another drink, but Logan spoke up before he could get lost in his thoughts again.

“Oh, right. Meant to tell you,” Logan started, his tone casual but carrying that hint of intrigue that meant he was about to drop something interesting. “I overheard something at the paddock the other day. Lando and Max were having a chat.”

The mention of Lando’s name made Oscar tense, though he hid it behind a quick sip of his drink. He hadn’t seen much of Lando since that conversation about his girlfriend. He’d avoided him, telling himself it was just the busyness of the season, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.

“What about?” Oscar asked, trying to sound casual, though his pulse had quickened.

“They were talking about their girlfriends,” Logan said, leaning back on the couch with a grin, clearly amused by the gossip. “Apparently, Lando’s thinking of bringing his girlfriend to the track on Thursday. You know, letting her kid meet Max’s girlfriend’s kid.”

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat. Her kid. He hadn’t realised Lando had gotten serious enough with his girlfriend to talk about bringing her child to the paddock. The idea of it—a girlfriend and her child, meeting other drivers’ families—felt like something out of a life he couldn’t quite touch.

“Her kid?” Oscar repeated, forcing his voice to stay even.

“Yeah,” Logan continued, seemingly oblivious to the shift in Oscar’s mood. “Lando’s girlfriend has a son. Seven years old, I think he said. Leo.”

The name hit Oscar like a punch to the gut, the room suddenly feeling smaller, the air thicker. Leo. Too close. Too close to Lea. The same age, too. His mind reeled as he tried to process the information.

Leo and Lea. Two names that were now spiralling around his mind, refusing to leave him alone.

“Leo?” Oscar echoed, his throat tight, his hands suddenly clammy.

“Yeah, that’s what Lando said,” Logan confirmed, oblivious to Oscar’s growing panic. “Funny coincidence, huh? I thought of your girl when I heard it. Her daughter’s name is Lea, right?”

Oscar’s stomach churned, the whiskey doing nothing to steady his nerves now. The resemblance between the names—between their situations—was too striking to ignore. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his mind was racing.

“Yeah... Lea,” he muttered, barely able to get the word out.

Logan leaned forward, reaching for another beer, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside Oscar. “Weird how those names are so close, isn’t it? Leo and Lea. Both seven. But hey, probably just one of those things, right? What are the chances?”

What are the chances? Oscar’s mind latched onto that phrase, replaying it over and over as the conversation with Lando echoed in his head. The pieces were there, and now they were beginning to slot into place, no matter how much he wanted to resist it.

Lando had mentioned meeting her a year ago—in America. She had told him about her life in Chicago, about her daughter Lea, seven years old, and raising her alone. But Lando had spoken about Leo, not Lea. A son, not a daughter. That had been the difference that had made Oscar dismiss the thought when Lando first talked about it. But now, with that name echoing in his mind, Oscar could no longer ignore the similarities.

His grip tightened around his glass, fingers digging into the smooth surface as he fought to keep his composure. Could it be her? Could she be Lando’s girlfriend?

The idea seemed absurd, but the doubt was already there, a seed that had been planted and was now sprouting, twisting its roots deep into his mind.

He replayed every moment he’d spent with her, every conversation, every look, every touch. She’d been so convincing, so sincere—or at least, that’s what he had wanted to believe. But now, with this new information, everything felt tainted. Every memory of her seemed to carry an undertone of manipulation, of deception.

He could feel the ground beneath him shifting, the stability he’d clung to for weeks slipping away. His thoughts spiralled, racing between disbelief and bitter realisation.

Logan seemed to sense something off now, watching Oscar with a puzzled expression. “You alright, mate? You’ve gone quiet.”

Oscar forced a tight smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”

Logan shrugged, unfazed, as he stood up and stretched. “Well, don’t think too hard. Could be nothing, just me connecting dots that aren’t there. I mean, you and Lando have different types. Probably just a coincidence.”

“Yeah... probably,” Oscar said, his voice strained.

Logan gave him a friendly pat on the back. “Alright, I’ll head out. You should come out with us tomorrow night, clear your head. Don’t let all this racing stuff get to you.”

Oscar nodded absently, barely hearing him. “Yeah, maybe.”

Logan grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, giving Oscar one last wave before disappearing down the hallway.

The moment the door closed, Oscar was left alone with his thoughts, the silence of the apartment now feeling oppressive. He sank back down onto the couch, his head swimming with a confusion he couldn’t shake.

Could it really be her? Could she have been playing him all this time?

He glanced down at his phone, which lay on the coffee table next to the empty whiskey glass. His fingers itched to pick it up, to call her, to ask her outright if she was lying to him. But what would he even say? He couldn’t just accuse her out of the blue, not without sounding paranoid. And yet, the thought gnawed at him, relentless.

Oscar grabbed his phone, staring at her name in his contacts, his thumb hovering over the screen. Leo. Lea. His head spun with the possibilities, the connections that seemed too close to ignore.

But even as the doubt filled his mind, there was still a part of him that resisted it, clinging to the version of her he knew. The woman he had fallen for. The woman who had whispered sweet promises into his ear, made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t in years. Could that all have been a lie?

His thumb hovered over her name, the phone feeling heavier in his hand than ever before.

For the first time since meeting her, Oscar didn’t press call.

The hours had come and gone and Oscar couldn’t remember getting into bed, but he could remember ever minute he’d spent staring up at his ceiling. It was well past midnight, but sleep had evaded him completely. He hadn't been able to shake the conversation with Logan earlier that evening—the way the name Leo had echoed in his mind, digging into his subconscious, unsettling everything he thought he knew about her.

Leo. Too close to Lea. Too close to her.

He picked up his phone from the nightstand, his fingers moving almost without thought. The list of contacts blurred slightly as his thumb hovered over Lando’s name. He hadn’t spoken to him since their conversation weeks ago unless he had to for work, and despite every instinct telling him not to, Oscar needed answers. He couldn’t let this nagging doubt fester any longer. He needed to know if his suspicions—wild as they seemed—held any weight.

Hey mate, need to talk before the race. You free tomorrow?

He stared at the message, hesitating for a moment before pressing send. The little blue bubble appeared, sitting in the chat like an uncomfortable reminder that he was waiting for something—anything—to help ease his mind. But the longer he waited, the more the silence gnawed at him. Minutes passed, the absence of a response amplifying his anxiety.

Oscar sighed, his thumb tapping on the screen again, this time scrolling down to her name. He stared at her name for a long moment, remembering the way her voice had soothed him so many times before. She'll tell me I'm being ridiculous. She’d laugh softly, maybe tease him for worrying over nothing. She always knew how to calm him down, how to make him forget everything else. He could almost hear her voice in his head.

He typed quickly.

I miss your voice. Can we talk?

He pressed send, staring at the screen as if willing the message to deliver. Seconds ticked by, then a minute, and his heart began to pound when he realised the message hadn’t gone through. Message not delivered. He frowned, watching the error sign blink back at him.

That’s strange.

Oscar tried again, but the message still didn’t deliver. His mind raced through possible explanations. Maybe her phone was off, or she was somewhere without service. She did mention a work trip soon, he thought, trying to rationalise it. It wasn’t the first time her phone had been out of reach for a few hours. He could almost hear her brushing it off when she eventually called him back, laughing about poor reception or how busy she had been.

Still, something about it didn’t sit right with him. He stared at his phone, a sinking feeling growing in his chest. Lando wasn’t responding either. The creeping doubt Logan had stirred earlier began to crawl its way back, more persistent now, digging deeper into his thoughts.

What if...

Oscar quickly shut that thought down. He wasn’t going to drive himself insane with these suspicions. He’d seen this before—the paranoia that came with the pressure of the sport, the constant overthinking. This was just another bout of that, amplified by stress. He was exhausted, running on fumes, and his mind was playing tricks on him. He just needed rest.

I’m overthinking it, he told himself, forcing the words into the forefront of his mind like a mantra. I’m just tired, and everything looks worse when you’re this exhausted.

He set his phone down, determined to let it go. He’d see Lando tomorrow anyway, and she would probably call him back when she was free. There was no point in losing sleep over this, not when he had a full day of media obligations ahead of him. He’d wake up, do what needed to be done, and this would all seem ridiculous in the light of day.

With a heavy sigh, Oscar pulled the duvet over himself and closed his eyes. The cool fabric of the pillow pressed against his cheek as he tried to settle into the bed, but his mind wouldn’t stop buzzing with a million thoughts.

It’s nothing. Stop overthinking it.

But as he lay there, the city’s hum outside his window, the quiet tick of the clock on the wall, and the nagging unease in his gut refused to go away. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker open, glancing at the phone on the nightstand. Every time, it stayed still. Silent. No messages from her. No response from Lando.

Oscar swallowed hard, turning over again, trying to focus on anything else. Tomorrow will clear everything up. He just had to make it to tomorrow.

Eventually, sleep found him, though it was a restless, uneasy kind of sleep, filled with fractured dreams and half-formed thoughts he couldn’t quite remember when he woke up. But the feeling lingered, hanging over him like a storm cloud.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it brought no comfort. He reached for his phone the moment he opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping to find some kind of response waiting for him.

But there was nothing.

No reply from Lando. No message from her.

Oscar exhaled sharply, pushing himself out of bed. It’s just one of those things. He had a long day ahead of him, and there was no use in letting his thoughts run wild. He had to focus, get his head back in the game. Just keep going.

He threw on his clothes and readied himself for the day ahead, steeling his nerves for what he hoped would be just another ordinary day. I’ll see them both soon, he thought as he left his apartment, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that followed him like a shadow.

By the time Oscar got to the paddock it was already buzzing with activity as Oscar arrived, the hum of engines, conversations, and the occasional clatter of tools filling the air. He should’ve felt at home here—among the smell of burning rubber, the organised chaos of race day preparations. But today, it all felt distant. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in an unsettling fog of thoughts he’d been trying to shake since the night before.

He adjusted the collar of his team jacket, trying to focus, but the weight of the unease from the night before lingered. No message from her. No word from Lando. He hadn’t been able to ignore the growing knot of doubt, but he had convinced himself this morning that it was nothing. Just a coincidence. It had to be.

As he walked down the main paddock lane, making his way toward the media zone, his phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart leapt for a moment—maybe it was her—but when he glanced down, it was just another email, something about the team briefing later. He sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket, forcing himself to focus on the day ahead.

But then, something caught his eye.

At first, it was nothing more than a flash of red—the colour of a jacket, a familiar silhouette standing just on the edge of the paddock near the Mclaren Hospitality Tent. His eyes narrowed, and his breath caught in his throat as his gaze sharpened. Even from this distance, he could recognize the way she stood, her posture, the easy grace with which she moved. It was her.

She was here.

For a moment, a wave of relief washed over him, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His heart quickened—not with the anxiety of the past few days but with the warmth he always felt when he thought of her. She’s here. Maybe she had come to surprise him. Maybe everything would finally make sense.

His pace quickened as he moved toward her, anticipation swelling in his chest. But as he got closer, something shifted. His smile faltered when he saw someone else approaching her—a man.

Lando.

Oscar  stopped dead in his tracks, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He watched as Lando strode up to her with that same casual confidence he always had, his face lighting up when he saw her. And then, as if the universe was mocking him, Lando leaned down and kissed her.

Oscar  felt the world tilt beneath him.

It wasn’t just a casual kiss, not the kind you give in passing. It was intimate, familiar. The kind of kiss shared by lovers, by people who had spent more than fleeting moments together. Oscar 's breath hitched in his throat as the truth hit him all at once—hard and unforgiving.

Lando's girlfriend. Lando's Leo.

She wasn’t just some distant thought anymore, someone he could call and pretend everything was fine with. She was standing right here, in front of him, in this world that had always belonged to him—and Lando.

Oscar ’s mouth went dry, his pulse hammering in his ears, but it wasn’t over. As if the universe wasn’t done ripping apart the fragile web he had tried to spin for himself, he saw a small boy run toward Lando, his laugh carrying on the wind.

The boy was maybe seven, with light brown hair, bright eyes, and a familiar lilt to his voice. Leo. The name thundered in Oscar ’s mind, each syllable more brutal than the last.

Oscar ’s world stopped.

He watched, frozen, as the boy ran to Lando, and Lando crouched down to scoop him up in an embrace, grinning widely. Lando ruffled the boy’s hair, saying something Oscar  couldn’t hear from where he stood, but it didn’t matter. He could see everything he needed to know. Lando wasn’t just playing the role of a stand-in or a casual boyfriend—he was in this, fully, deeply. This was a life. Their life.

Oscar ’s breath came in shallow, ragged bursts as the full weight of it all crashed down on him. She wasn’t just with Lando. She had a whole other life with him. A life that included a child—a child he had heard so much about from her, though she had called him by another name. Lea had become Leo, and everything Oscar  had thought he knew was a lie.

His mind reeled as he tried to piece together how long this had been going on. How long she had been playing them both. Weeks? Months? The entire time he had known her? How many nights had she soothed him with her voice, made him believe he was special to her, while she was building this life with someone else?

His hands trembled as he stood there, watching them interact like a family. She had her arm wrapped around Lando’s waist now, smiling up at him in a way that made Oscar ’s stomach churn. She looked at Lando with that same softness, that same vulnerability that had made Oscar fall for her in the first place.

How could I have been so blind? The thought ripped through him, bitter and sharp. Every moment with her replayed in his mind now, but with a new, ugly clarity. The subtle evasions, the too-perfect explanations, the way she’d disappear for days at a time, only to come back with a sweet excuse. He had ignored it all, let himself believe she was everything he wanted her to be because he had been desperate to feel something again.

The paddock noise swirled around him, the laughter, the chatter of mechanics, the distant rumble of engines. But all of it faded into the background as his eyes locked on her and Lando.

For the first time, Oscar  didn’t feel the familiar rush of race day energy. There was no excitement, no focus on the task at hand. All he felt was a gnawing sense of betrayal, an emptiness that spread through his chest like ice. He had been so utterly hooked on her, had built this fantasy around her in his mind, and now, that fantasy was crumbling before his very eyes.

Without realising it, he had taken a step backward, then another, retreating from the sight in front of him. His mind screamed at him to confront her, to demand answers, but his body refused to move. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the betrayal itself or the realisation that he hadn’t seen it coming.

As he turned and walked away, the weight of it all pressing down on him, he felt as if he were walking through molasses, his legs heavy, his breath shallow. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but he knew now that there was nothing left to ask. Everything was laid bare before him.

He had fallen for her, believed her, let her into the deepest parts of himself. And all the while, she had been building something else, something real, with someone else.

He thought back to that night he had first met her in Chicago, that intoxicating smile, the softness in her eyes when she talked about her daughter. And now, standing here in the aftermath, he saw it for what it had been all along—a performance.

Oscar had been nothing more than a passing act in her show, and now the curtain had fallen.

Oscar didn’t know how far he had walked. His legs moved mechanically, one foot in front of the other, carrying him away from the scene that had shattered him. The sound of laughter, engines, and the bustling paddock faded into the background as a growing numbness took over. His hands were shaking, and his chest tightened with each breath, the weight of it all sinking in.

He stumbled around a corner, finding himself in a quiet service alley behind the team garages, where crates and equipment were stacked in neat rows. The world felt distant, blurred at the edges, and the air felt too thin. He leaned against the cold metal of a container, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

I can’t breathe.

His mind raced, the images of her and Lando flashing like daggers in his thoughts. Her smile, her lies, the little boy running to Lando—it all collided in his head, creating a vortex of disbelief and betrayal. His heart pounded in his chest, a heavy, erratic beat that refused to slow. His vision started to blur, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.

Get a grip. But the command felt impossible. His lungs wouldn’t fill with air, his thoughts were spinning out of control, and the walls of the alley seemed to close in around him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching, but they sounded distant, like they were coming through a fog. Before he could react, a familiar voice cut through the haze.

"Oscar?" It was Logan.

Oscar tried to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat. He couldn’t even lift his head to meet Logan’s gaze. His body trembled, his hands clutching at the front of his jacket as if trying to hold himself together.

“Mate, what the hell—are you okay?” Logan’s voice was sharp with concern as he rushed to his side, grabbing Oscar by the shoulders. He crouched down, his face close, searching Oscar's eyes for any sign of response. But Oscar could only shake his head, his breaths coming faster and more ragged.

“I—I can’t—” Oscar gasped, his voice barely a whisper. The pressure in his chest was unbearable, like he was suffocating under the weight of everything that had just happened. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight back the panic, but it overwhelmed him.

“Hey, hey, breathe with me. Focus on me. Slow down,” Logan urged, his voice calm but firm. He placed a hand on Oscar’s chest, matching the rise and fall of his shallow breaths. “In. Out. Come on, slow it down.”

Oscar tried to follow Logan’s instructions, his chest rising in shallow, broken attempts. Each inhale felt like a battle, but Logan’s steady voice anchored him, pulling him out of the spiralling panic. Slowly, painfully, his breathing began to slow, and the fog in his mind lifted just enough for him to focus on the present moment.

“Good. Keep going. You’re okay,” Logan murmured, keeping his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, steadying him.

It felt like hours passed before Oscar could breathe properly again, the tightness in his chest easing ever so slightly. His hands were still trembling, but his mind had slowed enough to process what had just happened. The panic still lingered, like a storm waiting on the horizon, but at least for now, he could breathe.

Logan stayed crouched beside him, his brow furrowed with concern. “What the hell happened? You looked fine earlier. What’s going on?”

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat dry. He didn’t know where to begin. How could he even explain this? How could he put into words the chaos that had just upended everything he thought he knew?

“Logan…” His voice was hoarse, raw from the struggle to breathe. “It’s… it’s her.”

Logan’s face shifted from concern to confusion. “The girl from Chicago? What about her?”

Oscar let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. His voice cracked as he spoke, the words tumbling out in a broken rush. “She… she’s with Lando. I just—God, I just saw them. They were together, and there’s a kid—Leo. She told me she had a daughter, but… but that’s her son, Logan. That’s her son.”

Logan’s eyes widened, shock flashing across his face as he took in Oscar’s words. “Wait, what? Lando? And—Jesus. What?”

Oscar nodded, his stomach turning as he relived the moment he had seen them together. “I didn’t know, Logan. I had no idea. She never told me. She’s been playing me this whole time. And Lando, he… he doesn’t know. He has no idea.”

Logan was silent for a moment, his jaw tight as he processed what Oscar was saying. “And you’re sure it’s the same girl?”

“Positive. I saw them together,” Oscar said, his voice thick with disbelief. “She was with Lando, and the kid… I just—I can’t believe it. She’s been lying to both of us. I don’t even know how long it’s been going on.”

Logan let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Shit, mate. That’s… that’s messed up. How the hell did she pull this off? You’ve been with her for—what, months?”

“Since Chicago,” Oscar muttered, his hands clenched into fists. The anger was rising now, replacing the panic with a burning sense of betrayal. “She’s been playing me for months, Logan. And the worst part is, Lando doesn’t know. He’s out there thinking he’s got a family with her, and she’s just… she’s been lying to him too.”

Logan rubbed his face, clearly at a loss for words. “Mate, this is… this is bad. You need to talk to Lando. He deserves to know what’s going on.”

Oscar shook his head, his throat tightening again. “I don’t even know how to start that conversation. How am I supposed to tell him that the woman he’s in love with has been stringing me along for months?”

“I know it’s hard, but he deserves the truth,” Logan said gently. “He’s your teammate. You owe it to him to tell him what you know.”

Oscar let out a long, shaky breath. Deep down, he knew Logan was right. Lando deserved the truth. But the idea of confronting him, of shattering the life Lando thought he had with her—it felt impossible. How could he do that to someone he cared about?

“How do I even begin?” Oscar whispered, more to himself than to Logan.

“You just do. Lando deserves to hear it from you, not from anyone else,” Logan said firmly. “Trust me, the longer you wait, the worse it’s going to get. You need to talk to him before this whole thing blows up even worse.”

Oscar nodded, though the thought made his chest tighten again. He knew Logan was right. He had to face this. He had to talk to Lando. Even if it meant tearing down the life Lando thought he had built.

“Okay,” Oscar said quietly. “I’ll talk to him. Before the race.”

Logan gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, mate. You’ve got this.”

But as Oscar stood there, still trembling from the panic and the weight of the truth pressing down on him, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to face what was coming next.

Before the race Oscar stood outside Lando’s driver room, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest. His palms were clammy, his breath shaky, and his mind was racing with every possible way this conversation could go wrong. He had rehearsed it a hundred times since Logan found him—how he would explain everything, how he’d try to soften the blow. But now, standing here, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

His hand hovered over the door for a moment, hesitation gripping him. What if Lando didn’t believe him? What if he got angry? Oscar wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the storm that was about to hit.

He deserves the truth. You have to do this.

Taking a deep breath, Oscar knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there stood Lando, already dressed in his race suit, looking every bit the calm, collected driver he always was before a race. But today, Oscar could see the excitement in his eyes, the eagerness. It made his stomach turn.

“Oscar, mate! What’s up?” Lando asked, grinning. He stepped back, motioning for Oscar to come inside. “You ready for the big day?”

Oscar forced a smile, though it felt weak and awkward. He stepped inside, the air thick with tension he wasn’t sure Lando could feel yet. The motorhome was quiet, the sound of the paddock fading into the background as the door shut behind him.

“Yeah, uh… about that…” Oscar started, his voice already cracking under the weight of what he was about to say. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his heart thudding against his ribs. “I need to talk to you. About something serious.”

Lando’s smile faltered just a little, his brow furrowing. “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Oscar swallowed hard, feeling the nerves coil tight in his chest. This was it. No turning back.

“It’s about your girlfriend,” Oscar said, his voice barely above a whisper. The name hit the air like a bomb, and Lando’s face immediately darkened.

“My girlfriend?” Lando repeated, his expression shifting to confusion. “What about her?”

Oscar hesitated, feeling the weight of every word that was about to come out of his mouth. His throat was dry, and he suddenly wished he had some water, something to buy more time. But there was no time. It had to be now.

“I… I didn’t know she was with you,” Oscar said, the words coming out in a rush. “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend. Lando, I’ve been—God, I’ve been seeing her. She never told me about you.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Lando’s eyes narrowed as the meaning of Oscar’s words sank in, his confusion giving way to something darker—anger.

“You’ve been what?” Lando’s voice was low, dangerous, a tone Oscar had never heard from him before. “You’ve been seeing her?”

Oscar held up his hands, trying to keep his own panic in check. “I swear, I didn’t know, mate. I didn’t know she was with you. She told me she was single, raising her kid on her own. I had no idea you were with her. Not until I saw you together today.”

Lando took a step back, his face twisted in disbelief and fury. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing in the small space, his movements sharp, agitated. “Are you telling me you’ve been with her this whole time? The whole time we’ve been together?”

Oscar nodded, feeling like the ground beneath him was about to give way. “I didn’t know,” he repeated, his voice shaky. “I met her in Chicago months ago. She told me she had a daughter, that she was a single mum. I thought… I thought I was helping her.”

Lando let out a harsh laugh, but there was no humour in it. “Helping her? You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s been with me for a year! She’s been my girlfriend, Oscar. What the hell were you thinking?”

Oscar winced, the guilt tightening around his chest. “I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was just… I was hooked on her. She had me completely fooled.”

Lando’s face was a mask of rage now, his fists clenched at his sides as if he were holding himself back from hitting something—or someone. “You’re telling me this now, before the race? What the hell am I supposed to do with this, Oscar?”

“I’m sorry,” Oscar said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to tell you, but you deserve to know. I had no idea she was with you. I only put it together when Logan mentioned Leo—her son.”

Lando stopped pacing, his face going pale at the mention of Leo. “Leo?” His voice cracked, and for the first time, Oscar saw something other than anger in his friend’s eyes—something like fear. “Who told you his name was Leo?”

Oscar nodded, swallowing hard not knowing how to navigate this topic any further. “She told me she had a daughter named Lea.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, like the eye of a storm. Then, slowly, Lando sat down on the edge of the small bed, his head in his hands. Oscar stood frozen, unsure of what to do, unsure if he should say more or just leave.

“She played us both, didn’t she?” Lando muttered, his voice hoarse, filled with disbelief. “She’s been playing me this whole time.”

Oscar let out a shaky breath, nodding, though he still couldn’t fully believe it himself. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I think she has.”

Lando shook his head, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. “I should’ve known something was off. She always had these excuses, always disappearing for days at a time. I thought she was just… I don’t know, giving me space. Or with her kid. But now? Now it all makes sense.”

Oscar sat down across from him, the weight of the truth settling heavily between them. “I should’ve seen it too. But I was too caught up in her. I wanted to believe her so badly that I didn’t question anything.”

They sat in silence for a long time, both of them grappling with the betrayal, with the web of lies she had spun so carefully around them. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it was no longer directed at each other. They had both been played, both drawn into her orbit without realising they weren’t the only ones.

“What are we going to do?” Lando finally asked, his voice flat, almost numb.

Oscar shook his head, still unsure. “I don’t know. But we can’t let her keep doing this.”

Lando clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening as he stared at the floor. “You’re right. She’s not getting away with this. Not anymore.”

Oscar nodded in agreement, but his heart was still heavy. The woman he had fallen for, the woman he had trusted, had betrayed him in the worst way possible. But it wasn’t just about him anymore. Lando was hurting too, and that made it all the more unbearable.

As the weight of their conversation settled into the room, Oscar felt a slow, creeping nausea rise in his chest. It wasn’t just the betrayal. It was the realisation that this wasn’t some accident—this wasn’t some chance encounter where they’d both been caught off guard by the same woman. No. She had known exactly what she was doing.

He stared at the floor, the memories flooding back in sharp, painful clarity. The first night in Chicago, the way she had appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seat next to him with that effortless grace, that smile that had seemed too good to be true. The way she’d known exactly how to draw him in, offering just the right amount of vulnerability to make him want to protect her. All those months, he’d thought it had been fate, a serendipitous meeting. But now, with Lando sitting across from him, every detail took on a darker shade.

“Lando…” Oscar’s voice cracked, barely able to say the words. “She knew about me, didn’t she? From the beginning.”

Lando looked up, his eyes still clouded with shock but now narrowing as if trying to piece together the puzzle himself. “What do you mean?”

Oscar took a shaky breath. “You’ve mentioned me to her, haven’t you? Before I even met her in Chicago, you must have talked about me. About the team. She… she knew who I was before she ever sat down next to me at that bar.”

Lando’s face paled. His gaze shifted to the floor, his mind working through the same awful revelation that had struck Oscar. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I mentioned you all the time. You’re one of my best mates. Of course, I talked about you.”

It was like a punch to the gut. Oscar’s stomach turned as he recalled every little interaction with her—the way she’d seemed to know exactly what to say, how to flatter him without being too obvious, how to make him feel like he was the one discovering her, unravelling her layers. But it was all calculated. She’d had him pegged from the moment she walked in, likely before that.

“She didn’t just randomly pick the seat next to me at the bar,” Oscar said, his voice low, thick with bitterness. “She knew exactly who I was, Lando. She played us both from the start.”

Lando sat there, silent, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at his hands. His fingers twitched like he wanted to punch something, anything, but he stayed still, the tension simmering just below the surface. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“She’s been manipulating both of us,” he muttered, his voice a growl of disbelief. “I told her about my life. My friends. My job. And all that time… she was using it against me. Against you.”

The full scope of her deception crashed down on Oscar. He felt sick to his core. She’d never cared. Every sweet word, every glance, every night they’d spent together—it had all been part of her plan. She had known exactly who he was and had targeted him, exploited his loneliness, his vulnerability.

The first time they had kissed, that electric moment in her apartment, had seemed so real. He could still feel the warmth of her hands on his skin, the way her lips moved against his as if they had been made for each other. But now it felt cheap. Hollow. A lie that had wrapped itself around him until he could barely breathe.

"She must have known everything about me before she even introduced herself," Oscar continued, his voice darkening with anger. “That night at the bar, the way she played coy, like she didn’t know me from Mclaren. It was all an act. A setup.”

Lando was silent for a moment, still staring at the floor. Then, slowly, he looked up at Oscar, his expression hard. “She probably knew exactly how to make you fall for her. She listened to me talk about you enough. Your hobbies, your career, your life. She had every piece of ammunition she needed.”

Oscar could feel his pulse quickening again, a sick mix of rage and humiliation rising in his throat. She hadn’t just lied—she had orchestrated everything with precision, knowing full well how to ensnare him. And the worst part? He had let her. He had fallen for every carefully laid trap.

"She played the long game," Oscar whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I thought… I thought it was real. I thought she was real.”

“I did too,” Lando muttered bitterly. He let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to shake off the disgust that was settling over him. “God, how could we have been so blind?”

Oscar swallowed hard, the bitterness turning into something darker, more dangerous. He could picture her face so clearly—those dark, hypnotic eyes that had drawn him in from the very beginning, the way she tilted her head just enough to make him think she was letting her guard down for him. And all along, she had been playing him like a violin, hitting every note perfectly.

“She knew what she was doing,” Oscar said, his voice thick with fury. “She knew exactly what she was doing, Lando. She was never confused. Never torn. She set us both up like pieces on a chessboard.”

Lando’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he nodded in agreement. “She knew how to make us feel like we were the ones in control, like we were helping her. But she was pulling the strings the whole time.”

They both sat in silence, the weight of their shared betrayal settling into the room like a storm cloud. Neither of them spoke for what felt like minutes, both of them lost in the horrible realisation of just how thoroughly they’d been manipulated.

“I can’t believe it,” Lando finally said, his voice hollow. “I can’t believe she was capable of this.”

Oscar shook his head slowly, the ache in his chest deepening. “I guess people like her… they don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want.”

And that was the bitter truth. She had never cared about either of them. She had only cared about what she could take, what she could gain. And they had both been too blind, too caught up in her web to see it.

“What do we do now?” Lando asked, his voice a mixture of anger and defeat.

Oscar didn’t have an answer. His whole world felt like it had been ripped apart, every certainty he had stripped away. He didn’t know what came next. But one thing was clear— She wasn’t going to walk away from this unscathed.

“We tell her it’s over,” Oscar said firmly, though his heart ached even as he said it. “She doesn’t get to play us anymore.”

Lando nodded, his jaw set. “She’s not getting away with this.”

But even as they made their decision, Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling that the damage had already been done. He had given a part of himself to her that he couldn’t get back, and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was all a lie, the hurt lingered like an open wound.

As they prepared to face her, Oscar couldn’t help but wonder how much of him had been taken in by her. How much of him was still trapped in that web she had spun so perfectly around him.

And whether he would ever truly be free of her.

part four

tag list: @iimplicitt @hearts4acemyluv @a-beaverhausen

[katsu28]

hi my lovely kait!

i saw your requests were open and i actually was thinking about if ive ever requested smth from you before (i think maybe once but im not sure)

i was wondering if i could get ‘Kissing away their tears’ with charles but i wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do it with anyone else as well! i’ve been craving some hurt/comfort.

love you and have an amazing day <33

hali!!! love u love u thank u for being so sweet <3 here's some hurt and (hopefully) some comfort for u!

charles leclerc x reader, 1.4k. request something from here!

You can tell that Charles is dejected the moment he climbs out of the car. He doesn’t have that spring in his step he usually gets after an exhilarating race, and his feet drag on the asphalt as he trudges over to the weighing station with the rest of the grid, barring the podium goers. 

Carlos finished high up in the points, which is a win for Ferrari and you know Charles is happy for him, but you can’t imagine what it must feel like to constantly miss out on points and positions while his teammate consistently comes out in the top five every time. 

Formula One is a different breed of competition—your teammate might be your friend, but they’re also one of your biggest rivals. You fight to keep your seat, race after race, season after season, and this downhill spiral Charles has been in ever since his home win has been disheartening to say the least. 

You don’t know much about the strategy of it all, but you know Ferrari’s hasn’t been working out for him. He’s had a rough go of it lately, and your heart hurts for him. 

Charles looks up to where he knows you are, lifting his hand in a haphazard wave at you before being ushered away to the media pen. You’ll wait for him where you always meet him after races.

Somehow, he looks even more defeated than before as he trudges into his driver room after post race interviews conclude. He throws his paddock pass off to the side. You’re sitting up on the countertop, legs swinging mindlessly, only stilling when Charles shuts the door behind him. 

“Hey,” You say softly, gently. 

“Hi. Thank you for coming.” He tries his attempt at a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. You hold out your arms, and immediately, Charles steps forward, folding himself into your embrace. You know Charles well enough to know that he won't believe you if you compliment him right now, so you don’t. You sit with him in the heavy silence instead, waiting for him to make the first move. “I’m sorry I could not do better.” 

“You did the best you could with what you were given, Charles,” You say assuringly, rubbing a hand over his shoulders. He sighs long and hard, like you’re just telling him what he wants to hear. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Can we just go back to the hotel now?” He asks quietly, muffled because of how his face is buried into your neck. “I’m done for today. Anything else can wait until tomorrow.” 

“Of course,” You hum, carding a gentle hand through his hair one more time before releasing him. Before he can get too far, you kiss him, short and sweet. He smiles then too, a little bigger than before, but still quite sad. 

Charles puts on a pleasant facade as you make your way through the paddock back to the car park, taking pictures with waiting fans, signing things for them if he can reach them like most drivers do whilst leaving the track. Most of them are sweet to him. They tell him to keep his head up and believe, that a few bad races don’t discredit how talented of a driver he is. 

There’s a few hecklers as usual, upset fans who’d made bets on Charles’ performance and lost that money, people who say he could be doing so much better—as if them telling him that would magically make everything alright again. You give your own deadpan stare to that lot from where you hover a good distance away from him, not caring that they can definitely see you. 

Charles may be media trained, but you’re not. You have no problems with shutting up a few twats with your expertly crafted death glare. Fred Vasseur might call you in for a meeting with the PR team if he sees the photos on social media, but you don’t care. 

The car ride back to the hotel is understandably silent, but Charles still holds your hand tightly, rubbing absentminded circles along your skin because it soothes him, every so often lifting it to press a kiss to your knuckles. You don’t push him to talk, and you don’t think you need to. You know him well enough to know he’ll let you in when he’s ready. 

Dinner is room service and holds a little more conversation, though you can tell Charles is still off in his own world, thinking about everything that’s gone wrong these past few races, wondering if he could’ve done anything to get a better outcome. 

You come out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth, well and ready to go to sleep and forget this day, but instead you find your boyfriend sitting at the end of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. At the sound of the door opening, he looks up, and you can tell he’s been trying hard not to cry. 

Glassy eyes stare back at you, the beautiful green eyes that you adore filled with so much pain and sadness it makes you want to cry too. His teeth dig hard into his bottom lip, but it still wobbles just the slightest. 

It isn’t until you’re across the room, sliding on your knees to hug him against you that the final string holding Charles up snaps, and he leans into you heavily, pressing his face against your shoulder with a shuddering breath. He cries and cries, and you let him, holding him as tight as you can just so he knows you’ve got him. 

You’ve always got him. 

His body shakes with silent sobs, hot tears soaking into your shirt, and all you can do is murmur quiet reassurances into his ear, even if the feeling of wet cotton against your skin makes you want to peel yourself out of it. Charles needs this, needs to let it all out so he can focus on what lies ahead without being dragged down by the past. 

Eventually, his sobs come to a hiccupping stop. He lifts his head, red rimmed eyes meeting your own tearful ones. His nose is even running a little bit, and if it were anyone else you’d push them away, but it’s Charles. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t know why…” He trails off without finishing his sentence, seemingly at a loss for words. 

“Oh, my love,” You sigh, stroking both thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. You press your lips against his, hoping it can convey just how much you love him without you having to even utter the words, wiping away his tears gently before drawing back to look at him. As much as you hate it when Charles cries, he’s pretty like this. Tears cling to long, dark lashes, mussed hair a soft tornado of brown from how your fingers had been running through it. “You have nothing to be sorry for. And you never have to explain anything to me, yes? I’m here for you, always, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, leaning back in with his forehead against yours. “Thank you, mon amour. Your support, your love, it means everything to me. You are why I can keep doing this. ” 

You shake your head. “No I’m not.” Charles cocks his head, and you poke his chest, right over his heart. “That is why you can keep doing this.” 

One more poke, this one softer and on his forehead. “And this. Your mind and your heart, your determination, your strength, that is why you keep going. You are the most hard working, talented, brilliant driver I’ve ever seen. You can bounce back from whatever this is, and you will. But not because of me, because that’s the kind of person you are.” 

Charles pats the spot next to him and you oblige, looping your arm through his once you’re there, leaning against his shoulder now. He lays a lingering kiss to the top of your head, a silent gesture of appreciation towards you. He appreciates you more than he can put into words sometimes, a fact that hasn’t and will never change.  

Even though he’s still frustrated and sad and upset, this silence seems considerably lighter as you sit with him. You hope for brighter days ahead, and you’ll always try your best to be his strongest support system, no matter what the future holds.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Okay Cal I’ve taken some time and calmed down and now I’m so very normal about this news. Nico’s back well isn’t that nice. I feel so very casual about that. Just :) so :) normal :)

First theme this round is non-human Buddie!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 (IM OBSESSED WITH THIS ONE!!!! Really loving Buck’s hearing loss story and can’t wait to see where you take it! And I’ve got Thoughts™️ about how it might play into the Diaz family magic… It seems like you’re doing the publish once it’s all written thing again - how many chapters are you planning on having?)

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️(IM INTRIGUED!! And lol this emoji has bracelets on the arm that totally reminded me of Buck’s line arm tattoo so it’s meant to be! There’s so many interesting directions I feel like this one could go and I’m very excited to watch it play out!)

-PCA <3

HI PCA! So happy you're so excited for Nico.

In the meantime, the creature fics!

96 for 🌲 (THANK YOU!!!!! That makes me so happy. I'm really pumped for this one. I want to hear your thoughts! Yes, publishing this once it's all done. I have a ten chapter outline!)

---

It’s not for very long. Buck said the appointment shouldn’t take more than an hour, plus driving. No biggie. Eddie can handle that. He’s an adult. 

He tells himself the fear is that when he’s alone, something will happen. He’ll cover his house in more leaves and turn more and more into an animal until he loses his human mind. His back will become completely hollow like in all his nightmares. He thinks his fears are rooted in pragmatism. But when Buck is actually gone, the truth of it becomes clear. 

It’s painful. 

Buck being gone is actually physically painful for Eddie. He doesn’t know why. He gets this ache all over his body. This gripping sense of panic and nausea combined. He can hardly function. He needs Buck to be back. He needs to not be alone. His brain sort of abandons reason and starts spiraling to some dark place where he’s forever shut out from any sort of human interaction forever. Where he is utterly isolated. 

He doesn’t just think of Buck. He thinks of Christopher, hating him. His team at work, thinking he abandoned them. Adriana, missing without a trace. Shannon, dead. He starts to shake. It feels like some sort of withdrawal; or at least what he imagines that would feel like. He needs some sort of company. Anyone. Anything. Most of all, he needs Buck to come home. 

There’s a knock on the door around the time Eddie is expecting Buck to get back. If Eddie was in his right mind, he would know it’s not Buck. He would know the door is unlocked, and Buck can walk in. He would know that Buck has keys, regardless. 

Throwing aside any sort of precaution or rational thought, Eddie hurries to open the door. He doesn’t have much in the way of a disguise to conceal himself. He’s still wearing Buck’s sweatpants. Nothing for his face. He doesn’t even think about it. What he must look like to someone who isn’t expecting to see it. 

He’s surprised to see that it’s Tommy at the door. Arms crossed, angry impatient look on his face. Tommy, Buck’s boyfriend. He’s probably here for Buck. But he’s Eddie’s friend, too. Maybe he can keep Eddie company until Buck gets back. 

Not single thought of his own protection in his head, Eddie throws open the door. 

“Hey, Tommy,” he says. “What’s up, man?”

Tommy looks furious and confused. He looks Eddie over, eyes scrunching with confusion. 

“Where’s Evan?” He demands. He blinks a few times. Rubs one of his ears. “I know he’s with you and… And I…”

“Buck isn’t here right now. Should be soon. Do you want to come inside?”

“Do I…” Tommy’s eyes sort of glaze over. It’s like watching drugs settle in. The anger all but evaporates from his face. “Yeah, Eddie. Of course I want to come in.”

Eddie is pleased. That’s good. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He can already feel the pain in his body beginning to subside. 

“Come on, man. I’ll get you a beer,” Eddie says. No matter that it’s eleven in the morning. 

“I’d love that,” Tommy says. 

He leads Tommy inside towards the kitchen. He grabs two beers from the fridge. He doesn’t think about the tail creating a strange bulge in the back of his pants. He doesn’t think of the fact that he’s wearing Tommy’s boyfriend’s pants. He doesn’t think of anything and Tommy’s not reacting to anything. It all must be fine. 

When he turns around to hand Tommy the beer, Tommy takes a step towards him, leaving very little room between him and the fridge. Eddie feels a bit cornered. 

“Uh, hi?” Eddie asks. He tries to give Tommy the beer but Tommy doesn’t take it. Won’t even look at it. 

“Eddie, I think we should talk,” Tommy says.

Eddie gets a bad feeling. 

“Okay… Uh, sure. About what?”

“Us,” Tommy says. 

Eddie coughs a little. “Us?”

“You and me,” Tommy says. 

“What you and me?” Eddie asks.

Tommy smirks a little. “What we could be to each other.”

Eddie blinks. “Uh… Friends? Friends with someone very important  in common?”

Eddie might be feeling a little out of it lately, but he’s not insane. 

“Oh, come on, Eddie,” Tommy says. “You had to know there was something between us. If you hadn’t been seeing that woman. What was her name?”

“Marisol?” He asks. Or Kim? Both? Jesus, he’s a mess.

---

66 for 🧜‍♂️ (YAY! Thank you! I am excited to reveal my - and Annie's - plans):

---

He knows that it changes you. In lots of strange ways, some small and some large. 

“I’d had an accident not too long before that,” Chimney says. “Nearly died, myself. But… I don’t know. It’s different for Buck. Especially about Bobby. I think he’s just jealous you’re the new, shiny person on the team.”

Eddie is hardly new and shiny. Buck just doesn’t know that.

Eddie nods. “I’ll… Well, I’ll try I guess. To get on his good side or whatever.”

“I don’t think he has a bad side,” Hen says. “Just be patient. He’ll come around.” 

Eddie holds onto this promise. Hopes that it’s true. And really, really hopes his suspicions aren’t correct. 

🌻

Things get worse. 

There’s some downtime in the shift. Eddie decides to hit the station gym. Unfortunately, Buck is already there with Chimney. He considers turning around and walking away, not wanting to deal with the guy more than he needs to. But he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t want to be scared off in his own workplace. Not again. 

So Eddie starts on the other side of the equipment from Buck. The punching bag. He gets a conversation started up with Chimney. They talk about the firefighter calendar, which Chimney wants a spot in. Something Buck doesn’t seem thrilled about. It’s clear Buck wants to win, from all the absurd selfies he’s been snapping. 

“Are you gonna submit photos, Eddie?” Chim asks. “Be honest, you’ve probably got washboard abs under that shirt. You submit one of those classic shirtless suspenders photos and you’re a shoe in.”

Ha. No. Abs? Sure. A shirtless photo? No way. 

Across the gym, Buck makes a frustrated noise. Mutters something under his breath. Eddie doesn’t hear it, but he gets the tone. And all he can hear is the sound of someone suggesting he isn’t man enough for the competition. Whether or not it’s what Buck says, it’s what Eddie takes in. 

So he sort of snaps. 

“What’s your problem, man?” He demands, marching over to Buck at the weights. 

Buck looks up at him. He seems surprised to have been confronted. Surprised, but not unwilling to rise to the bait. He stands up, gets close to Eddie, peacocking his considerable height. He’s not that much taller than Eddie, but it sure feels like it, in this moment. 

“Okay. You.” Buck says, voice low and tight. “You’re my problem. Your comfort level.”

Eddie’s comfort level? Is he serious? He’s been doing everything he can to make Eddie uncomfortable. Is Eddie, what? Supposed to know his place? Stay silent and in the background because he’s different? How does Buck even know that he’s different? 

“You’re-you’re not supposed to walk in here like you’ve been here for years,” Buck keeps going. “It’s meant to be a getting-to-know-you period. You’re meant to respect your elders.”

“You’re not his elder, Buck,” Chimney interjects. 

“I don’t know how old you are,” Eddie replies. “But I’m not a probie. I’ve been a firefighter-paramedic for six years. But if you have some sort of prejudice that makes you think I’m not fit for the job-”

“Wait, what?” Buck interrupts. “Prejudice?”

[6okuto]

us yuji lovers must stick together in these hardships (aka jjk261) … how are we feeling right now nia :( personally IM SICK T^T

it's whatever. i hate jujutsu kaisen. floptsu flopsen. sorcery FLOP. whatever. yuuji hcs that spiral in the middle before going back to normal (one major implied spoiler for 259)

yuuji who you ask to be your fake boyfriend who says yes and then realizes he likes you in the process. walk with me

sends you animal photos and goes >:OO dog!!!! cat!!! :DD hope ur having a good day!!! <333

sits in the washroom and watches you do your hair/skincare routine while you talk about your days. will take over with ease if your arms hurt or you're tired

points out silly looking plushies or figures and copies their expression/pose. yuuji would like trying jojo poses

if he saw you sitting in the rain he'd come over with an umbrella and say you should come inside before you get sick. but then you tell him you like the rain and need to be outside for a while so he puts down the umbrella and sits with you. and you're like ?? you don't have to do this. and he just tilts his head and smiles and says yeah maybe but he wants to. he's sure his immune system is strong, or at the very least you can get sick together

yuuji who's suffered so much, who's been in survival mode for so long and hasn't been able to grieve the way he deserves to (he won't let himself) (those he's lost deserve peace more than him) Who breaks down crying when you hold his face or kiss his scars

yuuji years after the manga ends who's still healing and learning to grieve and grow. who sees his brother in the siblings he crosses paths with at the park, and his classmates and teachers in the elementary students filing out the bus for a field trip. who visits graves, starkly clean and well-kept compared to the ones a row over with flowers and food and updates on where he's been and the things he's done since his last visit. who wakes up too many nights with his heart torn, tears welling in his eyes and crescent indents in his palms, his voice raspy and broken when he yells out a name (it's a different one each time). who looks at himself and his fading scars in the mirror and sees two faces—both, in his eyes, responsible for what happened—and wonders when, if ever, he'll finally feel like he's off the battlefield, or worthy of peace

😂

if you asked to blindfold him to get him to pick you out of a line up (by holding hands, hugging, etc) he'd do it so confidently and be 100% correct. he could even give you reasoning on the spot—this hand's too rough, too small, you wouldn't wear this kind of jacket, this person's too short, etc etc

yuuji who you haven't seen in ages who waves his arms and grins so bright when you finally appear . who laughs as you speed up to get to him and hugs you with everything he has

wants to try out hot ones . you know the videos where they eat spicy hot wings. yeah

playing horror games with yuuji and hearing him progressively yell louder 😭 "eh? huh? where? what? what? What?? WHAT??? WHY WHY WHY WAIT WAIT WAIT STOP WAIT"

yuuji probably being a firefighter if he hadn't become a sorcerer + ride your wave. um. i mostly mean before he dies like just the meeting and dating. someone walk with me.?

dog walker yuuji 🙁 he'd be so excited of that one guy came by and asked to take photos omg 😭

doesn't really question when you want affection or cuddles (unless you're visibly upset) 🥹 you silently walk up and rest your head on his shoulder, or wrap his arm around you and he turns it into a hug 🥹 those videos where they crawl into their boyfriend's lap while he games and he silently wraps his arms around them and keeps playing 🥹

omg but flustered yuuji (earlier in the relationship) when you try to do something romantic/cheesy 😭😭 like sharing a drink and your faces being super close when you both lean in 🙁 and his ears/cheeks are tinted pink 🙁

[chcrryade]

⠀⠀˚⠀DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?⠀ ┉ ┉ ⠀None of them wanted this. Doyeon has to try and live with it anyway.

INCLUDING ⁺⠀kil doyeon, cherryade ensemble, jaguar staff. TIMESTAMP ⁺⠀NOVEMBER 2022—APRIL 2023. WARNINGS ⁺⠀swearing, (mentions of) fighting, drinking. WORD COUNT ⁺⠀5K NOTE ⁺⠀you don’t even know how much this made me want to end it all near the start.. WE FINALLY DID IT THOUGH! and im rly happy with it!!! i love u kil doyeon

Doyeon knew who JUST4U were.

Who in South Korea didn’t? You knew them even if you had absolutely no desire to. Their fame had stretched to all corners almost inevitably: their features were instantly recognisable, their name rolled off the tongue so easily it was hard to not to get it stuck in your head, and one of their many songs had almost certainly featured in some retail store in every city in every district, at least once. They’d even made it to Doyeon’s dead-end town, a poster of one of the perfume endorsements they’d done plastered on their singular bus stop’s wall. He’d stared them in the face every day while waiting to be picked up, and occasionally he’d daydream about what life must’ve been like in a city so far away.

(Which, retrospectively, was a little dramatic. Seoul was barely two hours away by train. He could’ve made a weekend trip of it, and just never thought to do so. Never thought he’d be allowed to do so).

Anyway. Back then. Bus stop. Daydreams. None of the above compared to how he knew JUST4U now. Now that they were about ten metres away from him (and, as it looked to be, everyone else in the company) right in the middle of the lobby, shouting and swearing at one another, looking nearly on the verge of getting physical.

Na Yeseul, platinum blonde dyed tresses whipping around her shoulders with every vigorous movement of her arms and dark purple lipstick painting every curse word she spat nectarine, raised an arm as if she was going to backhand Choi Insu across the face, before it then dove into her purse. Doyeon stepped a little closer to Daejin, a hand curling loosely around the producer’s forearm.

“You don’t think she’s got a…”

He trailed off, but it was obvious what he was referring to. Of course he didn’t really believe she had a weapon, however small, but the movement was so recognisable from all of the action and gangster movies Jaehee could never stop watching that it got him scared, just for a moment.

Daejin’s gaze of gentle judgement burned into the side of his face, but the dancer still couldn’t stop staring at the ongoing argument. “‘Yun. Be realistic, for a minute.”

Still, despite the light-hearted reality check, the producer also leaned in to nudge Doyeon’s shoulder with his own, and curled his hand up to squeeze the palm grabbing at him. In front of them, Insu let out a loud, unsettling laugh, throwing his head back with it. The scene felt very action-and-gangster-movie-like. Quite exciting, really. The leader’s gaze slid along to where Jaehee was watching wide-eyed, Minhui jumping up and down with both of his hands on his shoulders; looking like he was seconds from choosing a side and cheering them on, and felt a smile grow on his face, before a loud yell of “You cunt!” snatched his attention straight back to the main event.

“What are they even fighting about, anyway?” His words were a murmur, tapping at Daejin’s arm in case he hadn’t been heard. He’d been late to the scene, too busy practising alone, and had only found out there was a scene at all because Hasun had come running in with the news, an excited spark in his eyes that made him look like the child he never really got the chance to be.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the producer shrug. “The reunion interviewer, I think. That’s what I got from Joosun-hyung. He ignored Yeseul-noona. Or maybe made a pass at her? Or did he make a pass at Insu-hyung? It’s sort of a mix-and-match of both those things. Anyway, it started from there, and then it spiralled. You’d think after six years away from one another they would’ve buried the hatchet.”

Doyeon didn’t think any sort of burying was in the forefront of either of their minds. They seemed to be producing more and more hatchets out of thin air with the sole intention of throwing them straight at one another, if anything. 

But it couldn’t last forever. Someone would have to step in eventually. Not that anyone seemed particularly keen to do so, at the moment. Even the secretary at the front desk had abandoned her post (where, should she had stayed, she would’ve had a front-row seat that Doyeon almost envied) and was now standing in the doorway used for deliveries, a nail file in her hands that she was paying more attention to than the fight. The CEO seemed like the obvious choice to do the mediating, but as it stood, Ae Seungdae was standing in the prime position—obviously a few metres away, but still right in the middle of the two—and.. Clapping? Fist pumping? Whatever the hand gestures were, they looked to be more of encouragement than attempts to stop the shouting. Doyeon almost admired it. 

“Hyung,” a voice came from behind him, and the leader almost jumped out of his skin. Whipping his head around, he was faced with Yijun standing from where he’d been leaning against one of the walls and walking forward, away from where Daejin and Doyeon were. A phone was pressed to his ear, and Doyeon knew eavesdropping was generally looked down upon, but.. It was Yijun. He justified his decision by telling himself it would help him get to know the rapper just a tiny bit better. Or at all, really. His attention was fully diverted from the has-beens for the first time since he’d been dragged down into the lobby, although he kept his eyes facing forward so as not to raise suspicion.

“You’ve gotta get here, like, now! It’s so funny, really.. Yeseul-noona and Insu-hyung are back at it again. Youngshik-hyung looks like he’s about to either burst into tears or start jumping for joy, I can’t decide.”

Whoever he was talking to must’ve declined the offer, because Yijun groaned down the phone, eyes rolling and shoulders slumping. It was the most Doyeon had seen him express an emotion that wasn’t anger (or at least irritation) for more than five seconds. He was reeling.

“Hyeonmin-ah. Hyung. Please? I thought I was your favourite.”

Hyeonmin. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t remember where from. It didn’t come to him until Yijun had stalked off across the lobby floor, the rest of his conversation lost to the sound of screams and laughter, the general buzz of everyone in the room. Hyeonmin. Oh Hyeonmin. One of Yijun’s old members, like Jaehee. Except he hadn’t made the CHERRYADE cut, for whatever reason. 

Doyeon thought of the playful whine in Yijun’s tone. “Hyung.” The disappointment that pulled at his sharp features when he was denied. Huh. It was something to dwell on, to turn over his head for just a little longer. 

But for now, seeing as no one was going to stop the once-duo—the duo that he’d longed to know, years and years ago—anytime soon, carrying on watching the fight of the year (in his opinion, anyway) was far closer to the top of his list of priorities. He slumped a little onto Daejin, making the producer hold half of his weight, grinning when he felt the half-hearted glare directed at the side of his face again, and got comfortable.

December hit. Jaehee insisted on buying every tin of hot chocolate powder he set eyes on. Minhui wouldn’t be caught dead without wearing a fluffy coat of some sort. He heard more curses on Yijun’s name then he saw the boy himself. Haeil was putting Baileys in every beverage he drank. Jalen bought himself an advent calendar and, after seeing how much Hasun was eyeing it every morning, bought one for him too. Hasun had cried when he got it, though he’d pretended he wasn’t, and Minhui had cracked up over the sight of it (although his laughter was followed by over-the-top babying, as was any of his interactions with the maknae). 

December hit. Doyeon was starting to get worried. Wouldn’t anyone? Eight months since their last comeback, eight months since they’d been on stage, and maybe seven since they’d been out—doing things, promoting things, having fun even if they were exaggerating every laugh for the sake of the camera. Four months since Jalen’s interview, the one he was excited for even if he protested vehemently against that fact, the one where he told the interviewer that they hadn’t heard much on the schedule side of things. Doyeon never thought he’d long for a makeup artist to plaster his cheeks in foundation two shades too light and for the familiar burn of hair dye to singe his roots, but a faint itch was starting to settle under his skin. A want. 

One that he probably couldn’t do anything about.

He’d sat with that probably for days, tossing it over and over in his head. Trying to come to terms with it, to accept it as fact, and only getting frustrated when it just wouldn’t settle, refusing to leave. Like something stuck in his throat, a nagging feeling he couldn’t shake.

All that was rational was shaking him by the shoulders, striking him across the cheek, watching the pale skin stain red. Eight months. Maybe even eight months more. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You’ll have to listen to the crying, and the door slamming, and clean the bottles from the kitchen, and forget your card pin because you know your account’s getting emptier, and you’ll just have to shrug your shoulders. What can you do about it? You, of all people?

Everything else was kicking and screaming, his heart tearing itself out of his chest to protest. I don’t want to listen, or clean, or forget. I’ve done enough of that. All of that. I want to do something. I don’t want eight months more—I don’t want one month more, even. I know I can’t do much, but I want to do this. Let me. Let me!

No answer came. And, similarly, no schedules did, either. They’d all noticed, but no one had come to him and brought it up yet. Yijun probably would’ve been the first to make a scene, but.. Well. You knew something was up when you’d been seeing Kil Jiyeol more than your own group member for the past few weeks. So it had stayed stagnant, kicked underneath the carpet, the album cover-shaped elephant in the apartment.

Until Minhui broke first, dragging Haeil along with him. Doyeon paused from where he was rummaging around in the fridge, not turning his head but waiting. Waiting for them to confirm his suspicions out loud, seeing as he hadn’t been able to muster up the courage even when it was only him alone in his bedroom. 

“Hyung,” Minhui began. He sounded as blunt as ever, but the lighter edge was gone.

“Minhui-yah,” Doyeon answered, and swallowed around nothing. His hand felt shaky when he came to grip the glass jug full of water. “What is it?”

“You know what it is.”

That he did. He pressed a hand to his forehead, tried to swallow once more and winced when it felt harder this time around, and closed the fridge door. He didn’t turn around. Not yet. “I.. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know—but I want to know, Minhui, I really do. I’m just as happy about this as you are. As any of us are.”

It was then he turned on his heel to face them, to show better than he could ever say how he was feeling. He locked eyes with Minhui first, the dancer perched atop the kitchen island with Haeil slumped into one of the stools beside it. Sitting with his arms and legs crossed, the childlike pose was a stark difference from the expression on his face. They stayed in their stalemate until, surprisingly, Haeil was the one to break it.

“Why don’t you just.. Ask?”

When two pairs of eyes turned to him, he hunched in on himself; shoulders drawing up as if anticipating a slap. “I only mean.. Because, you know. Daejin-hyung, and stuff. You’re close, aren’t you? Or at least Joosun-hyung. He’s been here the longest.”

It made sense. Sort of. They were close, sure, but how much say would a producer have in the grand scheme of things? Most likely not a lot, usually, but.. He may have had a point with Joosun. He had been here the longest, almost since the beginning. Or rather, the beginning of the new JAGUAR. It was admittedly better than nothing, and he stayed quiet for a few seconds more to think it over a little longer. 

“I’ll try,” was what he finally decided on, opening his mouth again to get another few words in before they could jump in. “But don’t get your hopes up. Please. I don’t want to..” Let you down. He couldn’t really bring himself to say it, voice trailing off and eyes drifting off to the corridor behind the two instead of meeting either of their eyes.

“I think if anyone could get us some actual work, it’d be you, hyung. But yeah, we won’t expect to be shoved into a recording booth by next week, or anything. Should we tell the others?”

Minhui’s eyes were wider, looking far more alive than they had earlier, awaiting Doyeon’s response. But telling the rest meant there’d be more he’d have to risk letting down, even if Minhui had just told him he’d be fine, with Haeil giving a silent nod of assent beside him. But—no. Not yet. He said as much to the pair before him.

“I’ll tell Jalen. The rest.. Later.” He threw a half-hearted attempt at a joke in afterwards, with a weak laugh to try and make it a little more convincing. “Yijun would have to be here for any of us to tell him. Where even is he these days?”

Haeil rolled his eyes, Minhui snickered to himself, and neither of them answered his question. Doyeon took that as an answer unto itself. Maybe it was better he didn’t know.

The duo left the kitchen not long after that, Haeil out the door with a lighter in one hand and Minhui back to his bedroom, and Doyeon finally turned back to the fridge. He poured himself a glass of water, sat at the island, and stared into nothing for a long, long while; drink untouched, fingertips tapping nearly-silently on the marble. It wasn’t until the sun had set that he finally moved. Mind a little clearer, a sort-of plan set in place, a rough script of what he was going to say to Daejin, and to Joosun, in his head.

A starting point, if nothing else.

The new year came and went. They’d stayed in—most of them, anyway. Minhui had gone to a friend’s, said something about setting off fireworks and playing Dance Dance Revolution, and Hasun had gone home for a week or two, Eunhee coming to pick him up without sparing a second look at any of the rest of them. The remaining five ended up congregating in the living room and sitting in the dark, watching the city from the window. Yijun was glued to his phone in the corner, hiding it from anyone who dared to even try to peek (and, as usual, especially from Jaehee, who almost got a foot to the face for his nosiness). Doyeon turned his own phone off and left it in his room, nestling into a corner of the sofa and pretending not to notice how close Jalen and Haeil were sitting—how their faces almost brushed whenever they turned to whisper something into the other’s ear—while savouring every small sip he took of his Buck’s Fizz, raising an arm for Jaehee to cram himself under after having gotten over his ten minutes spent sulking and recovering from his nearly-injury. It was.. Nice. The nicest the atmosphere had been for a while. A chance for him to put off his impending responsibility for a little while longer.

The deflection didn’t work for much longer. It was his own guilt that gave him the push he needed to get on with it—and maybe Haeil’s empty stares whenever they passed one another in the apartment, saying everything without a single word leaving his lips, helped a little as well. He could be so haunting sometimes, Doyeon hated the chills it gave him. 

So there he was, face-to-face with the door of Daejin’s studio. It had felt weird entering the company building after not seeing it for.. Going on four months. He’d taken to renting out studio rooms when he wanted to dance, unsure if he’d be able to stomach entering the practice rooms with the weight of all the things he wasn’t there to do laying heavy on his shoulders the whole time. His hand went for the doorknob, but faltered halfway and he reached to knock instead. A slightly muffled call for him to come in reached his ears, and he slowly pushed the door open.

“What do you—Doyeon! I haven’t seen you since..” He trailed off, and Doyeon didn’t know what he was so apprehensive about filling the gap with. Since the fight. Since you got stuck in a hiatus you didn’t know about. Since you started doing nothing even though you didn’t want to. Whatever it was, Daejin brushed it away with a palm gesturing through the air, putting the unspoken words out of mind. “It’s been a while, that’s all. What’s up?”

“I need to talk to Joosun-hyung about something. Or rather, I need to ask him something. I guess I just wanted to know if you think.. If what I’m doing makes sense.”

Daejin leaned back in his chair, the dark leather creaking with the movement, and spread his arms out either side of him. “Hit me.”

Doyeon did as asked, trying not to feel too stupid while the words spilled out of his mouth. He knew it was something he wanted, something they all wanted, but the embarrassment still made itself present on his cheeks, the nape of his neck heating up uncomfortably underneath his hoodie. Coming from his mouth, it sounded more like a plan a child would come up with and present in a mess of coloured crayons and star stickers than anything else. Still, Daejin listened to every word.

“That.. Actually makes sense. I think you could get somewhere with that, especially if he lets it slip to Jitae first. Good on Haeil-ah for coming up with it!” Daejin praised while Doyeon gulped in lungfuls of air, having spit out everything he’d been mulling over in one single go. “Joosun-hyung’s downstairs on a smoke break—or, he was when I last saw him. Good luck! And tell me how it goes afterwards!”

He dutifully promised the producer he’d do just that, and then left the studio again; head feeling a little cloudy, feet staying stuck to the carpeted corridor as if unsure of where he should head to next. But he was so close he could practically taste it, now, and the split-second memory of Minhui and Haeil staring back at him in the kitchen again was all the encouragement he needed to march to the end of the hallway and shoulder open the fire escape door, descending the stairwell with as much speed as he could muster up; footsteps echoing off the walls all around him.

As he went, he began to idly draft an imaginary script of the conversation he would soon have to have, as if writing a play. Admittedly he’d never been all that good at anything drama-related, but his imagination could get overactive when it wanted to. Nevermind whether he wanted it to or not, of course.

The curtain rises on a dreary January mid-morning, focusing in on two figures outside the JAGUAR company building—the side nearest the cluster of restaurants and taller office blocks that close in on it on most sides. One is smoking, sunglasses over his eyes (despite the lack of sun to protect them from), with unruly hair sticking up all over the place in a clear just-woke-up way rather than anything intentional. The other is pulling alternately at his own fingers and the drawstrings of his hoodie, the hood of which has been pulled hastily over hair with two-month-old roots sprouting from the crown—hair he would rather only be seen by as little people as he could help. There’s nothing but the sound of ash burning until the non-smoker cracks his knuckles once more and breaks the silence.

DOYEON⠀So, er, Joosun-hyung. I wanted to—talk. To you.

JOOSUN (he turns his head, and gives DOYEON a slightly bemused look)⠀Talk, then?

DOYEON⠀Right. Sorry. I don’t know why I.. I think this cold is really freezing my brain.

JOOSUN⠀Wrapping up warmer might help. Aren’t you cold?

DOYEON (unconvincingly)⠀Not at all.

JOOSUN (rolling his eyes)⠀Sure. Hurry up and say what you want to say already.

DOYEON⠀I just wanted to ask if you think—If you would— (he’s floundering, struggling to find the words and continues to for a few moments until a final question bursts out of him) Can you help us have a comeback?

JOOSUN stares. His cigarette falls from his fingers, down to the concrete beneath them. Silence once more. Cars rush by, the two continue to stare, the curtain falls.

By the time he’d reached its end, cold air was hitting his face and the smell of smoke was evident. Doyeon looked up only to find Joosun already staring right at him.

He took another deep inhale, trying to put off the fact it was probably half made-up of second-hand smoke, and straightened his shoulders before starting to speak. It was just a matter of following his own made-up script, was all. Easy.

The curtain has not yet risen again, but words are still heard from behind them. Hesitant, as if he’s choosing them carefully, but words all the same.

JOOSUN (after an extended pause)⠀You’re crazy. And Haeil-ah is too. All of you are, what the fuck? But.. Yeah, ‘Yun, I’ll help you. I’ll see what I can do.

Alcohol, hair dye, dance, and Minhui largely made up the February-March stretch. His birthday was the clearest memory he had of the two-month-long blur, even if that night was arguably the one he drank the most. Everyone was there, in the apartment that had been forcefully made into a home, and he was deciding he’d had enough every five minutes, and someone had dug out a disco ball that was hurting his eyes, and Yijun had taken one disgusted look at his roots and yelled over whatever house remix of something or other that Jiyeol had made Jalen bump up to the top of the queue for him: “Hyung! I’m dying those for you, like, ASAP. It hurts me to look at them,” and Doyeon had nearly burst into tears on the spot. Out of gratitude. Out of shock. Out of too many Mojitos and not enough courage to do it himself.

The dance and Minhui went hand-in-hand. It started when he asked if he could join him on one of his rented studio hours, which was easy enough to agree to, and then before he knew it once a week they were running through all the choreos they knew and making up the ones they didn’t, freestyling to each other’s playlists and collapsing onto one another exhausted after the music had ended. They always grabbed food afterwards, taking turns to pay, and Doyeon felt the most normal he had in.. A while. The routine was comforting, grounding. And most of all, it was fun. He never failed to crack a smile on any of their outings, fondness feeling as it was pouring out of his chest. He supposed he and Minhui were sort of similar, in a way. They had both come from somewhere else alone, built into the seven as the lone once-idols. Granted, Minhui’s old group was far more successful than Slow Motion ever were, but still.

Doyeon had no idea if he had any of the same sort of effect on Minhui—he doubted it, although he held the few times he’d made him crack up laughing close to his heart—but he was glad for him all the same. Glad he’d reached out, even if it was just to try and stop Doyeon from looking so blank all of the time rather than for his own desire for some company. 

They never brought up Joosun’s answer, although as soon as he’d rushed back up the company stairwell to tell Daejin of the good news (and stayed there for a while longer for the celebratory jumping around and yelling and then eventual catch-up conversation the producer wanted to have afterwards) the pair that had confronted him first were the second to know as soon as he got back to the apartment. It’d been two months of nothing, after all, and neither wanted to face the fact that the ‘don’t get your hopes up’ message was ringing a little too true.

The other five had been doing fine over the last couple of months also—as far as Doyeon could tell, anyway. Jaehee had started to teach Hasun how to cook, even if he himself was rusty (resulting in a few occasions where the smoke alarm started screeching and, in return, the others started screeching as well), Yijun was back to staying in the apartment most of the time (taking to locking himself in his room whenever someone got on his nerves, rather than booking it out of the front door), and Jalen had slowly got back into his music-making—he’d stopped not too long after the reunion fight and the not-confirmed-but-obvious-hiatus they’d been put on, not stating anything but lack of inspiration as his reason, but Doyeon had always thought it was more than that. Not that he’d ever gone the extra step and asked. He’d had a suspicion that would've only made him clam up more, and that was something he didn’t really want to risk.

All in all, they’d coped. Sort of. It was the best they were going to get at it, anyway. They were creeping up to April, now, and the more he thought about it the more sick he felt. So he of course opted for the far easier option—forgetting all about it. He took the calendar off of the corkboard in the kitchen, replaced it with one of Haeil’s quick sketches he’d found on the back of an old receipt. He danced twice a week, once with Minhui and once without. He took himself to lunch, and Jalen to dinner. He let Jaehee shove a controller into his hands and played whatever gun game he chose until his eyes were blurry and his head ached. Maybe it was madness finally catching up to him, the months upon months of feeling so lifeless finally put to an end. Maybe he just didn’t care. All Doyeon knew was that he hadn’t felt this good since he was being crammed into tacky stage outfits and filmed doing whatever the people behind the camera told him to do for most hours of the day.

On the very first day of April, though, his—all of theirs—new normal was thrown on its head. Just as they’d been finding a rhythm, learning to live with it all. He was woken up by a banging on his bedroom door, sun barely risen enough to spill through the cracks in his curtains. 

He flung a hand out to reach for his phone. The screen read 5:42, and Doyeon wanted to die. Stumbling out of bed was only slightly harder than opening his eyes, and by the time he reached the door and yanked it open his vision had gotten a little clearer. Although, when he saw who was on the other side, he had to blink twice to make sure it wasn’t an apparition conjured up in a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on how you looked at it.

It was none other than Hong Jaeyoung was staring back at him for the first time in over a year, eyes flat and disinterested as they’d always been, suit ironed down to the last wrinkle, his lemon yellow tie the only pop of colour about him. Doyeon almost stumbled backwards, mouth opening with no words coming out. Jaeyoung only raised an eyebrow in return.

“Did you not hear me the first time? I said get up. You wanted this, didn’t you? Not gonna be a good look if you all turn up late.”

You wanted this, didn’t you? Did he mean..? No. Surely not. While Doyeon was still floundering, the early morning chill stark against his bare legs, the manager rolled his eyes, half turning on his heel before turning back to confirm his suspicions. His hopes.

“Yes, idiot, you’re getting your jobs back. For now. Maybe not if you’re not in the car by six.”

And with that he was gone, turning to deliver a sharp kick to Jaehee’s door on the way. Doyeon walked out from his doorway and looked down the hallway, Hasun meeting his gaze with similarly wide eyes. Silence lagged on between them before a spark of mischief lit up in the maknae’s eyes.

“I’ll race you, hyung!”

He was taking off full-speed the second the words left his lips, and Doyeon was frozen on the spot. Before—laughter. He just couldn’t stop laughing, shoulders heaving and tears springing to his eyes. Laughter at the suddenness of the news, at Hasun’s antics, at the feeling of the weight of the world finally being shoved off of his shoulders. He felt free, even if really he was about to start being the opposite for the first time in over a year.

Still unable to stop the little giggles from his laughing fit, Doyeon gave chase to Hasun down the corridor, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. Free. Not really, of course, but.. It was more than good enough for him. For all of them.

[stevethehairington]

thinking about the thing i saw today that said lfj said in an interview that originally tommy was supposed to be into eddie and now im thinking okay but what if that's TRUE what if tommy and eddie started hanging out and tommy WAS into eddie and he tried to kiss him, he DID kiss him, and eddie is like woah woah, im not. um. im not gay. and tommy is like oh, sorry, it's just. i was, well, i was getting vibes, but clearly i was wrong so sorry. and eddies like uhhh vibes what. and tommy makes some comment that's roughly along the lines of like just, are you sure? and eddies like uhh yes?? pretty sure??? and tommys like okay okay, forget i said anything. friends? and eddies like friends. and so they're fine, and tommys fine and eddies fine, except — except eddies not fine because he can't stop thinking about what tommy said. and it like keeps him up at night, like he's trying to think back to what he did or said around tommy that could've made him think that eddie was gay. and maybe he's sitting with hen and chim one day after that (buck is sleeping or not on shift today or just doing something else so it's just the three of them) and eddie just blurts out do i ever, like, act gay? like, have i ever done anything that has made you think that i like men. and hen and chim share a Look (because HELLO YES EVERY DAY DJSKS) but they find ways to give eddie like. nonanswers, because they don't want to tell him yes and send him on a spiral. but also he's already spiraling so like it doesn't matter lol. but yeah tommys comment and the chat with hen and chim are... Enlightening in ways and eddie ends up doing A Lot of Thinking and Reevaluating and Soul Searching. and he maybe finally comes to the Realization that oh. he might maybe like men. that might be. A Thing. tommy might have been right. and it is while all of this is happening that tommy starts hanging out with buck more and then buck has HIS Realization and suddenly buck and tommy are together and eddie's got this very weird feeling in his gut about it and he knows it's not because he has a problem with them being into men. and he knows it's not because he dislikes either of them, they're both his friends! and then maybe one day at work they're all just talking and someone's telling a story and describing the way someone was acting in a situation, and eddies listening to it like that sounds... that sounds like how im feeling. and then he realizes that, oh. it's jealousy. he's jealous. that's what that ugly feeling is. only... he KNOWS he's not jealous of tommy because he didn't feel anything when tommy kissed him. so that means.... that means it must be — buck. and it hits him then. he's in love with buck.

and it's like. the WORST time for that realization to happen, because buck seems so happy right now, more comfortable in his skin than ever and he's got a boyfriend and they're doing GOOD — at least eddie thinks they are anyway. so he just. keeps it to himself. doesn't want to upstage buck, doesn't want to do anything to compromise his happiness either. so he sits with his realization and he lowkey suffers in silence.

until one day buck just casually drops that he and tommy broke up. no hard feelings or anything, they just weren't feeling the spark that had been there at the beginning anymore, so they parted as friends. and eddie is like. bluescreening a little on the inside bc he's secretly THRILLED, but also he does not want to just. throw himself at buck, he literally just got out of a relationship! so he fully intends to just. keep sitting on his feelings. he's held out this long, what's a little longer right?

but then buck ends up beating him to the punch with a confession of his own, because turns out eddie kind of was part of the reason he and tommy broke up — because tommy helped him realize that he was bi, but he also helped him realize that he's been in love with eddie this whole time. and of course eddie confesses right back, and they are both OVER THE MOON and they kiss about it and they're finally FINALLY together <3

but yes, that is how eddie diaz realizes that he likes Men, but specifically evan buckley <3

[auxins-insanities]

i am so fucking tired of this post, this is my third time writing it because my tumbkr tab keeps reloading when im inactive on it for likw. 2 minutes. and it never saves as a draft.

there will be some typos because im tired

but yeah ill be talking about a song that reminds me of vic because im normal

wooooooooo time to break down every vic core line

Keeping Secrets (Fit For A King)

Is there a way out A way out from the let-down I'm living in? Some refuge from the cloud I'm under

vic's pov. like. "when will i ever stop being tortured. when will you (Alan) finally let death be permanent. is that even possible.

Living in lies, what I am is never good enough

however much they try to fight back or escape, they cant. Alqn is more powerful and they are tiny.

There's no hope if I give them nothing

eventually vic just stops responding. they do nothing. (yes yes i know this would be out of order timeline wise shoot me)

And now I'm dead in the water

fhis one is quite literal, considering they were drowned at least once.

I'm afraid it's too late to change

i can imagine at some point victim believes that maybe under the right circumstances things could work out. that maybe if they just survived long enough they could talk it out or something. maybe Alan is capable of more that jsut cruelty. they eventually stop desperately clinging to this idea, tjough. it isn't helping them.

You're the pin, I'm the hand grenade

THIS. THIS LINE MAKES ME SO INSANE. like. likw. vic was Alan's release. any pent up emotions could be thrown at this stick figure, instead of being violent or lashing out at "real people."

victim's the pin, Alan's the hand grenade

How can words of hope hold weight When I can't believe when I tell them to myself?

we saw one of mitsi's lil notes saying to have a good day, so i can imagine that its really hard for vic to keep mitsi's level of positivity, ESPECIALLY now that she's gone.

I can't feel heart through the violence

im tired and dont know how to explain it but this is a very vic core line okay

But I'm coping with the feeling of your disappointment

vic knows mitsi wouldn't want them to do all this. xe would not want these terrible violent acts done in xyr name. and vic doesn't know how to feel about that. what to think about what she'd say.

im skipping chorus 2 because theres still another one and going over both would be redundant

Now the cold hard truth I'm miserable and panicked now

victim going through Agent's memories to find mitsi's death. i know we're supposed to be talking about vic right now but there was something about how fucking defeated Agent looked after mitsi died that just. ough this man makes me want to cry

I thought that I could numb the pain But I'm just losing myself again

that right there is just victim in a sentence. they were getting better, they were moving on. but now that the one helping them is gone, they've gotten so much worse, arguably worse than before Mitsi. they're violent with disregard for others' lives, spiralling.

And now I'm dead in the water

this time it's more metaphorical. they're obviously not dead, no, but they lost so much of thesmelf when Mitsi died.

I'm afraid it's too late to change

this is where the roles change. it's too late for VICTIM to change. they've gone in so deep, done so much that in their mind, healing and moving on isn't even an option anymore.

It's like I've held up a gun to everyone that I love

this is another one that im not sure how to explain but this is vic.

You're the pin, I'm the hand grenade

i imagine victim was always one step away from a revenge quest. Mitsi just kept them said step back. she helped them heal, to find ways of dealing with trauma that arent just sitting there drowning in it. she ALSO probably offered some kind of release for any kind of emotion, they could tell her anything. she is the reason that victim didn't do this sooner. but now that xe's gone, they have no one holding them back from all this.

mitsi was the pin, victim's the hand grenade. and you know what happens when you take the pin out.

in trying to take revenge on Alan, they are now no better than him.

ANYGAYS THERE YA GO. JUST UHHHHHH THINK ABOUT IT.

heres the song, i do recommend listening to it even if its just for this to make more sense.

[wimbledon2008]

so i just finished the captive prince series about a week ago and am rereading it now. just finished the hello lover scene and honestly im still so confused over what's going on in laurent's head lmao like??

was he previously compartmentalizing his resentment so well that real feelings developed, but now he finally has a chance to truly let his anger out, he's locking down the positive feelings?

was he being truthful about manipulating damen the whole time (highly unlikely to me)? or was the cruelty in and of itself a play, either to push damen away despite not actually wanting to, or some other convoluted reason? bc damen really would have done anything he asked, trying to outmaneuver him like that was unnecessary.

my first theory feels the most right to me, and he just needed more time to process and purge his desire for revenge but idk im a taurus and very akielon coded. i love laurent but i do not understand that man lol

okay, disclaimer, i haven't read the books in quite some time so this probably isn't the fullest or deepest analysis. i welcome any additions or corrections from those who are better at meta than me <3

so the hello lover scene is incredibly complex and nuanced, a standard of pacat's writing that makes his works so infinitely re-readable. based on my personal understanding of the scene, there are a few key things that help to explain why laurent behaves the way he does in the tent scene:

1. laurent needs damen and the akielons to win against his uncle, which he very much wants to do. charcy didn't go how he'd originally planned, and he knows damen is pissed about it and probably thinks the worst of laurent right now - that he intentionally abandoned the akielons at charcy for his own purposes. so laurent is being manipulative; he is trying to outmaneuver damen. because what damen says is true: laurent has no allies, no friends, he's ruined his reputation by aligning himself with akielos, etc. we as the readers know that damen cares deeply for laurent and wouldn't just abandon him, and if laurent simply explained what happened and asked damen to help him, damen wouldn't hesitate to stay at his side. but laurent doesn't think damen has any reason to trust him, so laurent can't trust damen either. so instead of being honest, he chooses to be cold-blooded, to assert control over the situation and force damen's hand to ensure that the alliance he worked so hard to establish stays intact. he could've just asked, but this is laurent, and there are other factors at play, such as the fact that

2. laurent is already in love with damen by the tent scene, or at least most of the way there. but laurent can no longer pretend damen is anyone other than the person who killed his brother. damen walks into that tent as prince damianos, in full akielon regalia, covered in blood, with a sword. laurent has been doing some aggressive compartmentalizing, especially in order to have allowed himself to sleep with damen. who killed his brother, which was the inciting incident that made laurent's life a living hell. laurent has not forgiven damen for auguste, and he's having to really confront that hatred and anger for maybe the first time since the first book. and laurent is also punishing himself for caring for and sleeping with damen, his brother's killer. can you even imagine? it's better not to. laurent probably hates himself as much as he hates damianos in that moment. so he shoves all those glimmering, positive feelings down because he wants to hurt damen, and himself too. and none of this is particularly rational because

3. laurent is very upset at the beginning of king's rising. this is an understatement. he's still reeling from nicaise's death, which he blames himself for, he's losing damen, the only person he trusted, he was recently stabbed, and everything is spiraling out of his tightly held control. and when laurent is upset he's cruel. he's not at his best in the tent scene. he's clinging to his own self-preservation, and he's making it up as he goes along because whatever his original plan was got blown to hell, which is clear because he's saying shit that doesn't even make sense. see, e.g., this post about him allegedly enduring damen's "fumbling attentions" to win a battle he didn't even know about at the time. while laurent is being cold and ruthless to secure his position as best he can (see no. 1), he's also acting from a place of emotion instead of strict rationality, which is how he typically operates, and how he prefers to act. he's on the defensive, he's deeply confused and unable to cope with all of his conflicting feelings about damen, and he's lashing out - protecting himself before damen can hurt him first. and then damen literally sticks his thumb in his stab wound. basically: our boy laurent's going through it in a major way.

going back and re-reading your message i realize i've essentially just reiterated everything you initially said but with a lot of extra words. so i guess the long and short of it is: you're right. honestly there are so many ways to interpret the tent scene and everything else laurent says and does, which is what makes him so fascinating! so thanks for giving me the opportunity to dive back into his psyche for a little while <3