#in which i finally get back to reading and taking notes

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[sunshineyuyu]

princess treatment (j. yh)

★ summary: you have a crush on jongho, but he’s chatting up someone else. so, you end up getting high and hooking up with yunho instead. ★ pairing: yunho x f!reader ★ genre: college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 4.3k ★ tags/warnings: weed & alcohol consumption, yunho calls reader princess, high sex, piv sex (with a condom!), vaginal fingering, spanking, choking, slight dom/sub undertones, ig under-negotiated kink?, big dick!yunho, yunho manhandles reader, yunho is taller than reader, yunho has tattoos lol, dirty talk, intentionally lowercase ★ notes: this is the prequel to the jongho fic chained and the final “part” of this series! yunho from chained was just a lil too hot for me to not write something for him too! let me know if i missed any warnings!! ofc beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | chained (jongho sequel)

you look so hot tonight. you’re wearing your new favorite top—with a deep deep cut that makes your chest the center of attention—and a pair of jeans that you know makes your ass look good.

all of this to hopefully attract the attention of one choi jongho, who you’ve been crushing on for the better half of the semester, since san introduced you to him. he’s built and tan and nice and smart and sexy.

and he’s currently leaning against a wall—cradling a red solo cup and swirling its contents like he’s james fucking bond or something—and chatting up some pretty blonde girl.

you practically feel smoke coming out of your ears as you stare at the two of them—the way jongho leans forward so that he can hear the girl amidst the blaring sounds of somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper. ryujin puts a hand on your shoulder and the warmth of her palm makes you realize how tense you are. she shoves a beer into your hand.

“forget about him, honey,” she says. “he’s not worth it.”

“it’s not like he’s a fuckboy,” you whine, struggling to crack open the can with your recently cut nails. ryujin takes pity on you and opens it for you. you take a deep drink from it before wiping the edge of your mouth with your wrist. “he’s nice. he brought homemade coffee to class for me the other day.”

“mmm,” ryujin says. “i know, honey, but no boy is worth it. c’mon, let’s go play rage cage.”

you let ryujin pull you away to a different room, where the birthday girl yeji is parading around on wooyoung’s shoulders while spraying everyone with bubbly champagne. you don’t even really know yeji—she’s an acquaintance of an acquaintance, but you came because you wanted an excuse to get drunk and look hot and get jongho’s attention, only two of which you’ve managed to succeed in.

you finish the beer at an alarming rate and crush it in your fist.

“i’m gonna go get some air,” you say. “i’m not really feeling rage cage right now.”

“i’ll come with you,” ryujin says.

you venture to a different part of the house, trying to locate the stairs back down to ground level, but instead spotting a balcony. ryujin follows you here, where up close you realize it’s not empty.

the balcony is big—big enough to have several foldable lawn chairs strewn around, all occupied by various zooted-adjacent individuals. you and ryujin find a small opening against the railing, and you push up against it to feel the wind blow against your hair.

“men are shit,” you proclaim, apropos to nothing.

“men are shit,” ryujin agrees.

“you wanna smoke?” this voice is new, and it doesn’t belong to ryujin. it comes from your other side, and you turn slowly to appraise the person it originates from.

he’s holding a blunt out to you, a small thin thing between his thumb and pointer finger.

it’s jeong yunho. 

you don’t really know yunho, but you know him enough. he’s a friend of seonghwa’s, which means you’ve seen him at enough parties—been shoved next to him during rage cage, had him hold your hair back while you took a bong hit. he’s tall, with soft black hair, and has a tattoo of a dragon curled around his right forearm. there’s a perpetual lazy look to him—a smirk always playing at his lips.

he’s attractive, and he’s offering you a smoke from his blunt. you don’t think twice before you’re stepping closer, pressing your lips against the end of the blunt and inhaling. a low tsk comes from ryujin, but you focus on letting the sour smoke fill your lungs, all while you maintain eye contact with yunho.

“ryujin,” you say, coughing a little since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a direct hit. “can you get me some water?”

ryujin gives another tsk, but then you shoot her a look that she understands in an instance, and she slips away to “get you some water.”

you turn back to yunho.

“you looked like you needed it,” yunho says, taking a pull from the blunt and then blowing the smoke back out. 

you hum lightly, crossing your arms from both the night chill and because you know it makes your tits look better.

“you’re right.”

yunho holds the blunt back out to you, right in front of your mouth. you take another hit. this time you close your eyes and you breathe it back out, letting your head fall back and your hair hang loose.

“it’s nice,” you say. “thank you.”

“anytime,” yunho says.

you continue the back and forth of the blunt a few times, until you’re starting to really feel it, which is good because the blunt is practically finished, yunho barely pinching onto it after your puff.

“last one,” yunho says, a little breathy, and eyes more hooded than usual. 

on this last one, you meet yunho’s half-gaze and blow the smoke directly into his face. he’s closer than you really remember him being, but you don’t mind. he’s big and he blocks the wind. he flicks the stub of the blunt onto the ground, grinding it with the toe of his shoe. he raises his head back up to you.

“that was hot,” he says.

“i’ve always wanted to have high sex,” you say.

“i can make that happen,” he says.

he leads you to the stairs, down them, and out the front door with a surprising amount of clarity. meanwhile, you’re letting the sound of whatever chainsmokers song is playing drag you back to your high school days. an uber appears out of seemingly mid-air, and you’re suddenly in the backseat of a sedan. yunho’s shoving the armrest into the backseat and pulling you into him.

the ride is smooth, and you take it in turns to focus on different things. first, the dulcet sounds of a jazzy trumpet, fragmented and dusty because of the car’s worn speakers. second, the rushing of lights in the windows, leaving behind trails of white, yellow, a smear of blue.

finally, yunho’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles in that sliver of skin between your top and your jeans. it’s nice, makes you feel warm. you press deeper into his chest, your hand pressed into the cotton of his shirt.

he leads you up to his apartment and throws his keys into a ceramic bowl near the front door. 

“do you want water?” he asks, heading towards the kitchen like you hadn’t propositioned him fifteen minutes ago after sharing a blunt together.

“yeah,” you admit, when the full feeling of cotton mouth hits you.

after several gulps of the most delicious filtered water you’ve ever had, yunho’s crowding you into the countertop. he towers over you, but that works because you like feeling small, overpowered.

“you sure about this?” he asks, and if you weren’t high you would’ve said something about appreciating the ask for consent. instead, you lock your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your height and pressing your lips against his.

the kiss is immediately intense, his tongue roving against yours, while his hands—jesus, they’re massive—press into your sides, palms hot and fingers digging.

“yes,” you say.

he picks you up effortlessly, and you manage to wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you into his room. he sets—no, throws—you down onto the mattress. you bounce a little and fall backwards onto the pillows. you’re getting ready to bite out a retort at being tossed aside so roughly when you see his face: calm, emotionless, but a distinct darkness in his eyes.

“fuck.” you mean it as a breath, but it comes out like a moan. 

yunho pounces.

he kisses you briefly, before descending to your neck, your collarbone. he’s pushing your top off your shoulder, mouthing at the flesh at the top of your breast.

“take it— take it off,” you say.

yunho obliges, sitting back to push your top up past your chest and over your head. he lingers there for a little longer, eyes running over your tits and your nipples hardening under his heavy gaze.

“hot,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“touch me,” you say.

he obliges, palming your tits and pinching your nipples. rolling them between his fingers and revelling at the way you keen under his touch. 

“sensitive?” he says, all breathy while watching you.

“y- yes,” you say. “the- the weed—”

“mmm, yeah, i know what you mean.”

you reach down to the button of your jeans, but yunho catches your hands and lifts them above your head. he presses into it, hovering over you.

“i’ll take care of you, princess,” he says. “be patient.”

this pulls a squeak out of you. the assertive tone, the pet name, combined with the way that it only takes one of his hands to lock your wrists in place—it’s new to you, but you’re suddenly so fucking desperate to get out of your pants.

the unoccupied hand goes to your jeans, and you close your eyes, as yunho deftly unbuttons it, but drags down the zipper slowly to reveal your mildly scandalous underwear: red and lacy with a little bow.

yunho whistles. “y/n. that’s kinda sexy.”

he releases your wrists to use both hands to slide your legs out of your jeans. he goes slow, trailing behind his hands with his lips, which leave a scorching trail of lazy kisses. he’s looking at you as he goes, his eyes never wavering. you almost blush from the heat of his glare.

“you shy?” yunho teases, reaching up to palm one of your tits. 

“no,” you say. “just- just ready.”

“mmm,” yunho says. “i told you, princess. be patient.”

in an instant, you’re suddenly on your stomach, bouncing again. your waist feels a little tender from where he gripped you hard to turn you over, and your head feels a little woozy from the sudden movement, but then you feel yunho tapping on the outside of your thigh.

“up.” one word, one syllable, but coated in dominance, and you’re on your knees in an instant, ass up.

“fuck, that’s a nice view,” you hear yunho say, and you feel his hands splay out on your cheeks. he squeezes a little and chuckles.

slap! 

you fall onto the mattress, arms slow to catch yourself. did he—? did he just smack your ass? the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done in bed was some light hair pulling, but you’re finding that you don’t mind the buzzing you feel in your ass right now.

in fact—

“oh.” it comes out like a whine, and yunho hisses in satisfaction.

“you like that, huh, princess?” yunho says, his voice low.

“mm.” you can’t manage words.

“good,” he says, but even then you can’t anticipate the next slap. it’s harsher this time, and you jerk from the touch. “gonna make ur ass red to match those panties.”

it’s filthy. the way he’s talking. you’ve only heard talk like this in porn, and you’d always thought it was overly scripted. but yunho’s just talking, eliciting tiny squeaks and squeals of surprise from you that you also have only heard in porn and thought was fake.

“p- please,” you say, lower lip trembling a little. you finally chance a look back at yunho, and you find him still completely clothed, kneeling on the bed behind you with his hands on your hips.

“please what?” yunho says, smirking.

“touch me,” you gulp.

“where?”

“here.” before you can overthink it you’re taking his much bigger hand and moving it to your core, to where your underwear is already soaked. 

“okay, princess,” yunho says. “since you asked nicely.”

he starts rubbing your clit over the fabric of your underwear, a feathery touch that still makes you shudder. his other hand slides up your back and settles between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress.

“stay still, okay?”

you whimper in response, because soon he’s pushing aside the crotch of your panties, teasing the pad of his finger at your dripping entrance.

and then he’s pushing not one, but two long fingers into you. the first thrust is slow, and you can feel your walls pulsing around the digits. the second, third, fourth thrusts are hard and fast, and his hand on your back is bruising.

“fuck,” yunho hisses. “so wet and tight, princess.”

“hnng,” is your reply, because yunho is hitting that spot in the back, and your thighs are quivering.

“turn around,” yunho commands. “i want to see you when you cum.”

you scramble to follow his direction, flipping onto your back and pulling your knees closer into you. yunho shoves fingers into your mouth before you have a chance to say anything, and you suck on instinct, lapping at his fingers and tasting yourself on them.

“fuck,” yunho says, and then he withdraws the fingers and pushes them back into your cunt. you stare down at his hand, at his arm—the one with the dragon tattoo wrapped around. at how the scales of the dragon dance with the veins of his forearm as he pistons his fingers into you.

you’re a babbling mess of whines and coos and squeals, and suddenly yunho’s other hand flies up to your throat.

“this okay?” yunho asks quietly. his voice is low, like he’s trying to be sultry, but you can tell he’s watching carefully to see your response.

this is new. you’ve never done this before. you’ve seen it, heard about it. 

you like it.

you nod, and yunho smirks.

his grip is loose, but this new pressure on your throat makes you a little dizzy, a little lightheaded, and makes the fluttering in your stomach speed up. both your hands come up to grip his arm, to feel the muscle beneath your fingers.

“i’m- i’m close,” you croak.

“good.” and yunho picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you until you feel that crest of nerve endings exploding. your back arches, your head falls back, your eyes close—the feeling ten times more intense than usual because of the weed in your system.

you collapse against the bed, breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers.

“fuck,” yunho whispers. “that was hot.”

he’s perched over you now, a hand on your cheek brushing your sweaty locks out of your face. he kisses your neck, softly.

“i- i want—” you have to pause to catch your breath.

“yeah, princess?” he grins at you.

“this,” you say, your hand cupping the very apparent tent in his pants. this takes yunho by surprise. he jerks, but your hand remains. you experiment with palming him a little, feeling how firm his cock is. how big it feels even under the thick strain of his pants.

“yeah?” he says.

“yes,” you say. “please.”

“ok, princess.”

he reaches behind his head to pull his shirt off by the collar. you blanch at the sight of his torso. lean, lithe muscle. another tattoo along the top of his ribcage that you’ve never seen before. black calligraphy strokes that spell out something in what you think is japanese.

“what does it say?” you say, before you can stop yourself. you run your fingers along the words, touch soft.

“nana korobi, ya oki,” he says, equally softly. “it means ‘fall down seven times, get up eight.’”

“it’s beautiful,” you say.

“not as beautiful as you,” yunho says, and he tugs your underwear down from your hips and off your legs. you suddenly remember exactly what you’d asked for.

“so. fucking. beautiful,” he continues, undoing his belt and throwing it aside. he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them halfway down his thighs. there’s a small wet patch on his briefs, but those are soon pulled down too to reveal—

he’s big. long but not too thick. the head of his cock flushed red and leaking pre-cum.

you feel your mouth inexplicably fill with saliva.

“you’re- you’re—”

“you can do it, princess,” he says, kicking off his briefs and jeans the rest of the way. “you can take it.”

you nod obediently.

he reaches over you for his bedside drawer, returning with a silver foil condom packet and a little plastic bottle of lube. he tears the condom open with his teeth, spitting out the corner and then rolling the thing down his length. you lay back, eyes up to the ceiling. you hear the distinct pop of the lube cap, hear a liquid sort of noise, and then you feel his fingers again. cold and a little slimy, probing at your entrance and briefly nudging at your sensitive clit.

“you ready?” he says, lining himself up.

“mm.”

he pushes in slowly, and it takes all of your willpower not to clench instinctively. he groans while he slides into you, and the pace allows you to feel every inch of him. the stretch is difficult at first, but the further in he gets, the less control he has and soon, he bottoms out.

“you can- you can move,” you say.

“don’t have to tell me twice, princess.”

yunho’s hands find your waist, grip it hard, and then he pulls back and thrusts in again, but still slow. you can feel his eyes on you, making sure his size doesn’t overwhelm you. as he builds up his pace, his hips snap against yours, filling the room with positively lewd sounds that combine with his deep breathing and grunts and your whimpers and whines.

he fucks you into the mattress, stretching you so deliciously.

you find one of his hands and lead it up to your throat. yunho’s eyes widen, but he wraps those long, perfect fingers around your neck, grip tighter this time.

“fuck, you’re so pretty, princess,” yunho says. “taking my cock like that. such a good fucking girl—fuck!”

you’re overstimulated, but in the best way. lightheaded from the choking, sensitive everywhere from the weed, and so turned on from yunho’s praise. you close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of being so thoroughly fucked.

as yunho pounds into you, he starts cooing and moaning about how good you look, how good you sound, how good you feel.

“yeah? you like that, princess? yeah—let me hear you. tell me how good i’m fucking you. fuck—your pussy is perfect. like you were fucking made for me. such a perfect princess.”

you can’t tell if you’re close to another orgasm, or if this is just all one long extended orgasm. all you know is that your body is buzzing with pleasure, and you feel really fucking good.

eventually, yunho’s thrusts grow faster and more erratic. he gives one final push and stays buried in you, chest rising and falling.

he pulls out slowly, checking to make sure the condom worked.

“fuck, that was good,” he says, breathless.

“yeah,” you agree, boneless.

yunho swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking off the condom and tying it up before throwing it into a trash can. you’re a bit miffed that he is already fully operational, while you feel like you had all of your inner organs rearranged.

“give me a sec, princess,” he says, as he tugs on a pair of sweatpants. “i’ll get you some water and get you cleaned up. just relax.”

your head still feels a little woozy, but you slowly come back to your senses as you hear yunho bustle around outside. finally, he comes back into the room guzzling a chilled bottle of water. he recaps it and hands it to you. you drink deeply as you feel yunho wipe at your thighs with something warm and wet. the cool water reinvigorates your throat after having yunho’s hand pressed against it. 

“you good?” he says. “i wasn’t too hard or anything?”

“no,” you say. “no, it was good. i liked it.”

“good girl,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting your head. it’s mildly patronizing, and but you’re to tired to retort back. 

he shifts deeper onto the bed to lean back against the headboard, running his fingers along your spine. it’s relaxing and—together with the water—helps you ground yourself as you feel the last remnants of weed and arousal fog clear from your mind.

“you like jongho, right?” he asks, apropos to nothing.

you choke. you spend the next few seconds spluttering and coughing while yunho rubs your back soothingly.

“i don’t- why are you—?”

“that’s why you were all sad at first, right?” yunho says. “on the balcony?”

you stare at him, finally able to breathe properly.

“yeah,” you say quietly. “but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me.”

yunho hums. “i don’t know about that—” and he pinches your back when you open your mouth to protest “—but i don’t mind being your fuck buddy while you get over him.”

you purse your lips. truth be told it was good sex, but your… thing for jongho isn’t something that you can just get over with a couple good fucks and some weed. you don’t know how to tell yunho—someone you’ve only really ever been around either drunk or high or both—about pulling all-nighters with jongho to finish your homework together, sleepy and giggly and delirious; or how he knows your coffee order without ever having asked; or the way his eyes crinkle when you show him a funny meme.

so, you settle with a small smile and a peck to yunho’s jaw.

“i’ll consider it,” you say, and you get up to start redressing. you’re sobering up properly now, and the flimsy top you’d been wearing before feels a little scandalous for your current mental state. after hesitating briefly, you grab yunho’s discarded top and put it on.

“well shit, when you do stuff like that,” yunho says, running his eyes over how his shirt dwarfs you.

“i’m- i’m cold,” you mutter.

yunho just laughs, ruffling his hair.

“hey—you hungry?”

he takes you to the 24/7 burger joint just outside his apartment, harsh fluorescent lights and greasy air doing their best to sober you up even more. he orders and pays for you, while you slide into a corner booth to avoid anyone seeing how utterly fucked out you look: hair in a messy bun to hide the knots, body swimming in yunho’s shirt, mascara smeared under your eyes, and hand constantly on your neck to cover up the massive hickey you discovered while peeing—when had yunho even given it to you?

yunho scoots into the seat opposite you with a handful of napkins and a little paper cup of spicy ketchup. after you receive your tray of food, you and yunho spend the next fifteen minutes talking about the basics when you both realize that you don’t know much about each other.

it’s easy to talk to yunho, whose light chuckles and lazy smiles are comforting. while you might not take him up on the fuck buddy proposal, you just might keep him around as a friend.

you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, and you reach for it to see a text from san, asking if you’re okay.

to: san

[1:40 AM] yeah i’m good

[1:40 AM] actually can u come pick me up. i’m at the burger place on 8th.

from: san

[1:42 AM] yeah omw

you slip the phone back into your jeans while you sip on your soda.

“san’s coming to get me,” you tell yunho.

“oh, cool,” yunho says. “yeah i was gonna offer to take you home or something—it’s so late.”

you hum, warming in appreciation for yunho’s intent. he really isn’t a bad guy—not that you’d thought that before. he’s always been a neutral acquaintance, but you’re really starting to enjoy his company now.

“thanks,” you say. “for the food, and—the other stuff.” 

yunho laughs.

“you’re cute,” he says, tapping the tip of your nose with a greasy finger. you dab at it with a crinkly brown napkin.

ten minutes later, your phone vibrates again to indicate that san is outside in a silver uber. you thank yunho again, and even give him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, your face flaming as you turn away from him to leave the diner.

when you throw open the door of the car, you find not san, but—

choi jongho, stuffed into the backseat with a slight flush on his cheeks and a loose grin. you stare at him, and he stares back. the only empty seat is in the middle.

“scoot,” you say.

“i’m too big for the middle seat,” he says, but he doesn’t make any moves to exit the vehicle to give you the space to slide into the car. you nudge him. “just climb over me.”

a low string of curses leave your mouth as you reluctantly clamber around his big frame and into the middle seat, where you finally see san sitting on the other side. you’re so preoccupied with greeting him and thanking him for coming to get you that you don’t notice jongho’s eyes narrowing at the shirt you’re wearing—yunho’s.

“you coming to our place or going home?” san asks.

the words your place are on the tip of your tongue when you look back at jongho, noticing now a small red bruise blossoming just under his jaw. this causes you to snap a hand to your own hickey, which you hope is hidden by the shadows.

“home,” you say quietly. “ryujin’s probably waiting for me.”

the uber starts up again, and you lean your head back onto the headrest, determinedly avoiding jongho’s gaze. you know that you just went off to hook-up with someone random, but it doesn’t sting any less that apparently jongho was doing exactly the same thing.

at that moment, your phone lights up with a new text.

from: unknown number

[1:59 am] hmu whenever, princess ;)

continued in chained (c. jh)!

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

kiss me

IN WHICH trapped in a tower and controlled by your father your entire life, jay helps you come up with a plan to finally escape

PAIRING ⟡ guard!jay x heiress!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ tangled au (minus the long hair)

WARNINGS ⟡ depictions of a controlling parent (not in detail), fluff, kissing, inspired by anthony and johanna from sweeney todd

WORD COUNT ⨯ 1.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . wrote this after watching sweeney todd live and was inspired by the lovers’ storyline… so here’s this! title (and subtitles in the header) taken from kiss me from the musical

You wait until your father is out of sight, walking through the thick vines that separate you from the real world, before you rush to the main window and slide the key down. Leaning over the ledge, you watch the silver key shine with the sunlight all the way down, before it lands with a ting! onto the rocks below.

Without a word, the guard bends down to pick up what fell at his feet, not looking up, or making a face that tells what he’s thinking. Then, he turns and heads to the front door.

Hearing the door unlock and open downstairs, you decide to wait for him on the couch, anxiously fiddling with your hands as you listen to his footsteps coming up.

Your father delivered the news as soon as he came home from his overnight hunt. He’s found someone for you—You’ll be married off in two moons.

To be married off means to be taken away from the tower, only to be locked in a legally binding prison with a man you know nothing about. You’ve had enough and need to get out of here.

Jay has worked for your father since his own parents passed away. It’s his only way of making a living in these harsh times, he can’t even protest the grotesqueness of his position. As a guard, he stands post at the bottom of the tower to assure no one comes in and no one comes out. Nobody even knows of the tower’s existence, let alone of the heiress that lives in it, so it isn’t a difficult task. Though, it is daunting.

Within the first week, you tried to escape twice before accepting that this new guard will take his job just as seriously as the previous worker. You frowned. He did too.

After another week, you decided to start sending him letters through paper cranes you’d throw out the window. There’s no reason for you to try not to at least make a friend—He was much younger than any of the other guards, so this was your chance. It took him four days before he bent down and read one.

“What’s your name?” That was the first thing he asked you.

Looking over to make sure your father wasn’t around to hear the interaction go through, you leaned over the window’s edge and yelled a reply. “Y/N, I’m D/N’s daughter.”

He didn’t respond, simply nodded and went back to staring off at the big vines, waiting for his employer to come back from his hunts.

After a month of these exchanges, growing lengthier by the day, you pushed the key off the ledge for the first time.

“What’s this,” Jay had asked, examining it under the light.

You watched the light refracture off of it from the window. “The key to the front door. It only works from the outside.”

“I hope you’re not asking me to let you out.” His voice was stern. “That’s asking for both of our heads to end up on sticks, if not worse.”

You grimaced at the visual. “No… My father will be out for another few hours. That’s his spare key which only works from the outside. Do with it what you will.” Keeping it vague and leaving it at that, you stepped away from the window, hoping he received your unspoken message.

It took him two other days to figure it out.

From then on, while your father was away, Jay would come up the tower and spend a few hours with you. You’ve never done something so scandalous, but it felt so freeing.

You would do whatever you could in here. Although the space was limited, and there really wasn’t much to actually do, you managed to get creative, inspired by the new friend you’ve made.

Sometimes he would teach you to cook new meals.

(Your father would ask how you learned to cook like this, you would reply it was all from your head.)

Sometimes he’d teach you to play the guitar, using crafting strings you’d attach to the chairs to create faux-guitar strings.

Other times, you would teach him how to draw.

(”Did you make this?” your father asked one night. You simply hummed.)

Once, you even taught him about the constellations, the first time your father’s hunt went through the night. You were sitting by the ledge, pointing at the stars.

Your father came back to the tower unexpectedly that night. Jay had to cling down the tower from the outside. His employer was rushing up the steps below completely unaware of their visitor. When he found you leaning against the window, he grumbled something about you failing to escape it by jumping off. Coward, he called you. You told him you were going to bed early.

Even though you’ve still been bound to these achingly familiar walls, spending time with Jay felt like you were in a new world. His jokes made you laugh out loud like you were the only girl in the world, and you might’ve been. He’d look into your eyes as if they were brighter than every constellation in the sky, but you knew that couldn’t be true because his eyes held the brightest stars.

You know your father doesn’t even have a hunch of your friendship with the guard, not a single suspicion—He’s not the brightest man on the block, and that’s saying something considering, before Jay, he was the only man you’ve ever known. And yet, he marched in this morning to tell you to prepare for the wedding.

Two moons. In two days, you’ll be a married woman.

You can’t have that.

Jay comes bursting through the door with a smile. “Good morning, M’Lady,” he greets.

“Hello, Jay,” you respond solemnly. You can’t find the strength to hide your disappointment.

“What’s wrong?” Of course, he sees right through you.

So, you motion him to the couch and waste no time in telling him the horrible news. Not missing out any details. The glint in your father’s eyes, indicating that he must be getting a fair sum of money out of this. The drop in your stomach when the words left his mouth. Your fear of not only leaving Jay, but being trapped once more and never being able to leave.

He understands, you see. His eyes look into yours comfortingly. “You want to leave?”

You nod. “Tonight,” you specify. “I’ll pack my bags right now. My father won’t return until the sunset, that gives me plenty of time. We’ll make some food to bring, as well, in case I don’t find somewhere to stay. Blankets, too. I’m not sure how long I’ll be away, where I’ll be, but—”

“Kiss me.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“Kiss me.”

You smile up at him.

He takes your hands in his. He repeats, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss me?”

Bashfully, Jay turns away, still keeping your hands locked in his comfortably. His cheeks redden, you notice. You can’t hide your smile.

You reach up to his face, holding his cheek in your hand and turning his head to face yours again.

His smile shies, but not away. “I love you, Y/N. I want to keep you safe, I want to help you see the world you’re missing out on. It’s so beautiful, Y/N, you’ll love it.”

Tears well up in your eyes and you’re not sure why. You see Jay’s eyes get teary as well and you let a giggle escape. “I want to see it with you,” you tell him in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

You spend the day running from corner to corner, wall to wall, pulling apart the only place you’ve ever known and stuffing your memories into a bag. You only take your happiest memories with you, leaving the living nightmares behind, shoving them under the bed to never see again.

Jay is in the kitchen for the most part. He puts together meals that don’t require being kept in a fridge, first, then adding in the refrigerated foods into bags, last. He tells you that the two of you will need to prioritize these foods. “I’ll take care of it.”

“We’ll take care of it together,” you assure him, closing the tupperware for him.

In total, you have two bags of your things and one of food. It’s heavy, but worth it. “We can take Hemi,” you say. Your father didn’t take the horse today, you noticed. He only does when the hunts are far. “He’ll carry my things.”

The two of you come up with a game plan. If your father isn’t too far out, that means that the most difficult part would be getting out of the city, but once you’re out, you’ll be free from him. Jay knows enough of the city, so he’s to take the lead and guide you through the hidden streets to not draw too much attention—Last thing either of you need is being spotted by a commoner who’s nosy enough to spread gossip that’ll reach your father.

With the bag on your shoulders, you say goodbye to this life. This life of misery, of suffocation. You say goodbye to the younger version of yourself; The version of yourself who had hope. The version that lost it. You’re proud to be the version that gained it once more.

You take a hold of Jay’s hand as you make your way down the spiral staircase. He opens the door for you, while you stand in awe at the light shining through it.

“Woah,” you whisper, taking your first steps outside. “It’s…”

“Beautiful,” Jay finishes, though you don’t notice his eyes are on you, instead of the scenery.

There’s a rose bush growing from where the vines come down to. You never knew they could smell so fragrant. The grass hasn’t been cut in a while, it reaches above your shoes, tickling your calves. You almost wish you weren’t wearing shoes to really feel it. You want to roll around in it for hours. 

You hum, closing your eyes. There’s a light breeze. You take a deep breath to take it all in. “All of this was underneath my nose all these years…”

You’ve always known your father was a cruel man, but knowing that he kept something, everything so heart wrenchingly beautiful just out of reach from you, taunting you without even knowing it. You frown.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jay suggests, feeling the shift in the air. He takes your hand once more and gestures toward the barn. Hemi snorts from the inside.

“Wait,” you say, pulling him back toward you. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Jay places his hands on your cheeks and leans down to meet your lips.

It’s magical, so much more than you expected. With your eyes shut, you feel a flush of something familiar running underneath your skin. You press your body against his through the kiss.

You realize, the worst thing your father kept from you has been in your hold this entire time.

Now you know to never let him go.

[opheliachoi99]

ᜊ 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 ᜊ

FEATURING : Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Oliver Aiku, and Itoshi Rin

ABOUT : Them as your long distance fiancé, which will unexpectedly becomes your husband in near time. In which you kept your pain, because you couldn't have the right time to tell them about you and your baby.

Note : These are short scenarios for each characters, I was inspired by the song "When She Cries" by Restless Heart. Enjoy reading!

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Sae

— You breathed heavily, as you felt nauseous all of a sudden. Timing, your fiancé Sae called. "Hello? Honey! How are you? Currently in Barcelona Airport, I was gonna surprise you that I was coming home, but I couldn't seem to decide what to bring, so gotta tell you instead! How's our new house in London—? H-hello? Baby? Are you there?" You couldn't respond as you were already in the bathroom puking on the toilet.

"Honey! Hello? Are you okay? Hello?" He kept bugging but you were already in the urge to grab a pregnancy test and took it quickly "Honey, this isn't funny. I hear some rattling in the background, what are you doing?"

You gasped as you saw the results. "Positive." You sternly spoke "Positive? What do you mean pos— oh. Oh. My. Gosh. BABY! PLEASE REST! I'LL BE HOME 6 HOURS IN TIME, PLEASE BARE WITH ME!" You suddenly cried because you couldn't bare the pain you're feeling right now.

Shit. Don't tell me she's..

— Timeskip —

Sae came home just in time, he was carrying a lot of stuff, but he dropped everything except a bottle of water and some pills.

"BABY I'M HERE! I KNEW I HAD TO TRAVEL BACK TO YOU FOR A CERTAIN REASON! I just had a feeling.." There you laid on the corner of the bed, still feeling nauseous.

"Sae, b-baby, I'm.." You stuttered. "Shh.. I know, I'm here. I got water, and some pills to reduce the nausea you're feeling."

He knelt down towards your belly level "So you're coming soon huh? Better take care of your mom here, she's getting dizzy and sick, I don't want that you know" You slightly chuckle "Love, you're so weird." You stated.

"Oh, if I'm weird, I wonder how the little one will be- I'll be teaching this little buddy how to play soccer the moment they come out- but- what if it's a girl— EVEN BETTER!" He ran around the room like a kid full of excitement, this wasn't his typical way of acting, but he was way too excited to be a father. You suddenly cried, "Baby, hey, why are you crying? I'm here now!" He gently sat next you "I-" You sniffled "I thought I was going to suffer alone.. I thought you wouldn't come back.. I thought I would end up being a single moth—"

"Shh" Sae placed his index finger on your lips, signaling you to no longer continue "Honey, I'm here. You're not suffering alone, You won't be taking care of this baby alone. I've been out of the country because of my career, but now, I can set aside my soccer career. Taking care of you and the baby is much more important, don't worry. I've cancelled all my schedules, I'm free the whole year. If I needed to go back to Spain, I'll make sure you'll come along this time. At least I can keep an eye on you" He pecked your forehead as reassurance.

"I will never leave you, so don't cry, it hurts seeing you cry and suffering with pregnancy. I love you okay?" He kissed you once again and you nodded as you felt reassured everything was alright.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Michael Kaiser

— You and Kaiser were happily talking with each other through the phone, as you were sipping tea in your balcony floor, admiring the view from there as you talked with the love of your life.

"Once our final game is done meine liebe, I'll come home straight to you and we'll binge watch your favourite series the whole night, how does that sound? Hmm?" His voice muttered from the other end of the phone "I'd love that schatz, I'll be wait—" "Baby? Liebe? Hello? You were saying?" Kaiser's eyes widen as he heard vomit noises from the end of your line "Baby? Are you okay? Hello?" Your voice echoed the bathroom as you cried, you hated the feeling when you puke, it was the worst "Liebe? Are you vomiting?" Kaiser was already too worried "Baby I think I'm—" You continuously vomited. "Ahh!! Where's the pregnancy test?" You yelled.

"Preg— PREGNANCY TEST?!?! SCHATZ DON'T TELL ME.. Fuck." He ended the call immediately.

You didn't noticed he ended the call because you were too stunned from what you saw right in front of you.

"P-positive? No way.. It can't be.. He's still away for three months.." You felt nauseous once again and went back to the toilet seat to puke.

— Timeskip —

"Shit, shit, shit" Kaiser cussed as he was packing stuff in his luggage. "Michael? Where are you off to?" Ness barged in without notice "I'm going back to Germany." Kaiser coldly spoke "Huh? But our training has not completed yet- besides, what's the rush? You told your fiancé that you'll be back after three months."

"Correction, my wife. And she needs me, soccer can wait. Tell Ego, I'm heading out, I'll make it all up, but cannot promise as well. For now, my liebe needs me." Kaiser seriously stated as he finishes packing.

"I'll be going now, tell Yoichi he's in charge now, ciao!"

"I- but-" Kaiser didn't let Ness finish and he slams the door from behind. Ness sighed "It's like he's having a baby or something-" He just shrugged and went off to tell everyone what happened.

— Timeskip —

Kaiser arrived just in time. He unloaded his luggages and extra stuff from the back of his car "Gosh, I hope these stuff will help her.."

He arrived towards your room, he sees you resting peacefully in bed. He caressed your cheeks and kissed your forehead "I'm home meine liebe." He scanned around the room, and saw your leftover tea outside the balcony, and he took it and closed the unclosed sliding door from the balcony.

He surveilled the bathroom as he saw what a mess it was, and he saw a pregnancy test lying on the bathroom counter "Fuck, it's positive?! YAHOO!!" His loud voice woke you up.

"Micha?" You swore you heard a familiar voice. "Liebe!" Your ears rang as you heard it clearly.

You jumped from startledness as Kaiser came out the bathroom with the pregnancy test in his hand. "SCHATZ?!? WE'RE HAVING A BABY!!!?" He jumped for joy as he immediately pounced himself in bed with you kissing you non-stop.

You suddenly cried. "Liebe, why are you crying? I'm here!"

You suddenly laughed "Micha.. It's just that, I thought you would come back much more later.. I did not expect you to come home so early.. I'm overwhelmed.." You spoke lightly.

"Oh my süßer Schatz, I can already sense, wait no, I felt you were in need, especially you're carrying our mini us. It's unacceptable if you're suffering alone" His words made your tears fall "Aww Micha.."

"Now now, you want ice cream? As soon as I landed, that was the first thing I bought for you" He proudly said, which made you laugh "That's the pretty smile I wanted to see, now I'll go get it okay? I'm sure little one wants one too hmm?" He spoke to your belly. He kissed your tummy and your lips "Ich liebe dich, schatz. Remember that. I'll go grab the ice cream and extra snacks and we'll watch the series? Like I promised" He winked at you as he left the room to grab the food he mentioned.

You simply laughed, too lucky to have loving fiancé, or should I say, husband, and a father of your future child.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Oliver Aiku

— You were cooking ramen for your dinner, as a way to stop your stress over your fiancé Oliver Aiku. He was quite a pain in the ass, but, despite your fiery anger towards him, deep inside you were wishing he would show actions as a proper fiancé.

As you were cooking, tears started to flow. Mood swings suddenly hit you out of the blue. You wiped your tears, turned off the stove and went to the dining room to eat. You were thinking your menstruation was coming up, so you didn't bother to worry.

You were alone, as usual. Aiku has been very busy with his soccer career, and he's always either with Shidou or Sendou. You didn't mind because both were also your friends and constantly updates you wherever they are when Aiku couldn't.

Sendou sent a voice message using Aiku's number saying; "Hey Mrs. Aiku~ your fiancé is at it again, so many people interviewing your bae, what a busy man he is, don't worry, his fangirls won't be able to approach him because I lead them to me and Shidou instead! And damn they're hot!"

You simply let out a small chuckle as you were listening to their update, but at the same time you sighed, wishing Aiku himself would update you instead.

You left your phone open as you went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

— Timeskip —

You came out the bathroom looking fresh as you just came out from showering. You were about to grab your novel to read when your phone rang, it was Aiku's number, you prayed it was Aiku who was calling this time, but sighed as you saw Shidou instead. "What now?" You let out a tone of annoyance "Hey bae! Just wanted to call on behalf of your hubby, he asked how were you?" Shidou spoke.

"Eh? He could've just told me directly- is he really that bus—" You paused for a bit, as you swore you felt a painful twist in your stomach "Really that what?" Shidou asked "I said is he really that busy to the point he couldn't ask me direct—" You paused again.

"Bae, if you keep on pausing on a wrong timing for fun- stop it, it's not funny" He sassily rolled his eyes "Wait- I need to go to the bathroom real quick.." You went to the bathroom and leaned your phone near the mirror, still on video call with Shidou.

"Uhm- bae? You good— oh my goodness-" You vomited and cried "I'm not feeling well Ryu.. I don't feel good.." You vomited once again "Oh shit- SENDOU!! CALL AIKU IMMEDIATELY! HIS WIFEY IS PUKING RAINBOWS AND SHIT-" Shidou panicked.

You cared less on what's happening on call, you couldn't think straight because your stomach really hurt and the nauseous feeling is taking over, you suddenly cried because of the pain your feeling right now "Shit, must've been the ramen that I ate.." You gaslighted yourself "Bae! When was the last time you had your period?"

You paused for a moment..

"NO! IT CAN'T BE!" You yelled as it echoed around the bathroom as you intensely find a pregnant test somewhere in the room.

"Bingo! Shit, this can't be." You groaned as you took the test.

Silence took over the atmosphere "Uh- Bae? Hello? Sendou! She's quiet!" Shidou panicked again. "Huh? Hello? Our beloved Mrs. Aiku! You good there?" Sendou asked from the end of the line.

You suddenly let out a sharp scream "DAMN WOMAN- CALM DOWN!" Shidou yelled back.

"I'M FUCKING PREGNANT.. IT'S POSITIVE!" You cried "Well shit, I'm telling Aiku, if he ain't listening I'm going to smack the shit out of 'em" Sendou spoke as Shidou ended the call.

You sat there in the bathroom floor spacing out, you soon started crying, knowing that Oliver wouldn't be able to be by your side during your pregnancy days. You sighed and suddenly felt nauseous once again and felt to urge to vomit once more.

— Timeskip —

The front door has been slammed open, with running feet speeding up the stairs.

"My beloved!" Aiku barged in the room, looking for an nauseous fiancé. He checked the bathroom and saw how messy it was, and the smell of vomit was still a bit humid.

"Shit. Where is she?" He scanned every corner of the room until he spotted you spacing out on the couch of the balcony, your eyes being lifeless looking. He soon felt guilt all over him.

He slowly opened the sliding door leading outside the balcony "Baby? I-I'm sorry... I'm here now.." Silence. Silence was the only reply he got from you. "Is it true? It's positive? I-I'm going to be a father?" Still silence.

He sadly sighed and knelt down to see your eyes "My love? Please, talk to me.."

Your eyes soon teared up "You're the one to talk." You replied coldly. "Baby, I'm at fault here I know, I just wanted to clarify if I'm gonna be a fath—"

"WHO SAID YOUR GOING TO BE A FATHER? AFTER HOW YOU TREATED ME?" Aiku went silent. "You asked me to marry you and I said yes, and this is the treatment that I received?!! I feel the mockery Oliver.." You cried.

Oliver gulped "I'm sorry okay? I've been so busy, relying that I finally got a soon-to-be wife, but I forgot to give time.." Your tears continuously flowing.

"Hey baby, don't cry, it's not healthy for the baby.. I don't want to harm you and our child.. You want me here? I'll do it. I'll sacrifice my soccer career. I'll be a proper husband and a father." He stated.

"All you do is talk. Not a single action shown." You replied with a weak tone, tears still flowing.

A few seconds you felt surprised because Aiku is now carrying you in bridal style "Hey! Put me down!" You demanded "You said wanted some action, I'll show you what I just said, I mean it. Again, I'm sorry my baby, can you forgive me?" He asked in a pleading tone.

"Make me." He suddenly kissed you, a soft and warm kiss, which melted your heart. He pecked your cheeks, nose, and forehead after "Now can you forgive me?" You chuckled. "Fine, but I'm still mad at you. I only ate ramen for dinner just so you know." Aiku's eyes widened.

"Am I hearing it right? Ramen?! I don't think so, that's not healthy for the baby. I'll make you soup, it's much more healthier" He demanded "Pfft- since when can you cook?" "Pardon me? I can cook, I just couldn't show you because I was too busy, now I'm here, you'll know" He winked.

You couldn't help but to giggle over his cheesy expression.

A few minutes passed he came with the soup as promised "Here my love, served warm and tasty~" He said as he sat next to you on the bed. He soon fed you spoonful of the soup "Mmm! Tasty indeed! Wow honey, you do cook! Cook for me some time please!" You praised "From now on I'll cook for you everyday!" "Promise?"

"Promise."

— Timeskip —

Shidou and Sendou arrived with extra foods and drinks, "You almost lost the keys- we could've been locked outside-" Sendou said "Eh- they're here anyway, they can open up for us" Shidou replied.

"What if they're asleep-" Sendou added as he placed the paper bags filled with foods and drinks. "Nah they're still up, LOVEBIRDS WE'RE HERE!" Shidou yelled.

"Oh for crying out loud Shidou keep it down!" Sendou spoke sternly as they went up the stairs.

"I told you they're still— awake.." Shidou lowered his voice as he approached your room "See what I mean-" Sendou stated.

You and Aiku were comfortably sleeping in bed cuddling and Aiku continuously caressing your hair. Aiku slowly opened his eyes and spotted his friends and did the "shh" expression, as a sign to keep it down.

Both gave him a thumbs up and Shidou quickly took a pic of you two peacefully resting and swiftly went back downstairs.

Aiku had enough of his friends mischief, he checked up on you and saw you calmly resting, a smile plastered on his face.

"I'm never hurting your precious soul again.." He whispered and gently gave you a peck on the forehead, and he gently went back to sleep.

=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Rin

— You finally rested as you've just finished your spring cleaning. You let out a sigh, opening your phone with no notifications from him.

"As usual, no update from him.." You closed your phone and decided to read a novel to pass the time.

The novel you read made your tears drop as you relate to the main character of the story, having a cold and airy fiancé is quite hard.

You closed the novel and stared at the ceiling blankly. You thought of something on how to get Rin's attention. But you suddenly remembered, he still has that caring and loving side. Suddenly your phone popped up an notification, it said;

Rin : [ Hello love, I'll be coming home later in the evening, what do you want for a souvenir? ]

You let out a small chuckle, you seemed so contented and happy from a single notification from him.

Your brows suddenly furrowed, as you felt nauseous and weird, you tried to brush it off with a smile. But as you were replying, that uneasy feeling came back again.

You felt the urge to vomit so you quickly went to the bathroom and threw your phone to the bed, but as you threw your phone out of impatience, you accidentally pressed the call button.

But, Rin immediately answered it. Which was a miracle, but he wasn't the type to really ignore you, he proposed to you for a reason, he loves you.

"Hello? Darling? Uhm- your camera seems to be facing the ceiling-" Rin felt confused "So- uhm- about my question- you kept typing, I expected a long message but—" He paused as he heard a vomit from the end of your line "Honey?!" His tone suddenly changed "Hello?!?" He kept calling your name but no response, instead he keeps hearing you vomit from a distance.

"Shit, never knew this time would be coming.." He said as he ended the call.

On the other hand, you tried to gasp for air. You couldn't help but sob "What is going on with me?!" You cried.

You spaced out for a bit and vomited again.

You went back to bed to see your phone laying on the spot, you noticed some notifications, so you continued messaging Rin without knowing what happened before.

You : [ Anything Rin! I'll accept anything! Thank you for asking! Your presence is what I need the most tho :( ]

After messaging Rin, you decided to take a nap.

— Timeskip —

Rin finally arrived, barging in as if someone was chasing him. "Darling?!! I'm home!" He yelled as he placed all his stuff down and running up the stairs panting.

"HONEY!"

"AHH-" You gasped as you immediately sat up from your slumber "Rin?! What happened?!" You worriedly asked.

Rin ran towards you with a worried face "Are you okay? I brought everything you need" You suddenly felt overwhelmed as his actions were different so suddenly. "H-huh? Rin? Is everything okay?" You seemed confused.

"Oh my gosh" He grabbed a pregnancy test from his pocket "Here take this." He said as he assisted you all the way to the bathroom "What is this? H-hey!" He shuts the door for you.

A few minutes passed as he was walking back and forth from the bedroom, waiting for you to come out, when you did, he immediately checked up on you "So?"

You gulped "I-I'm.." You cried "Shh.. Hey.. Tell me" He sweeps a stray tuft of hair off your face so he could see you clearly. "I'm pregnant.." He went silent for a moment and gave you some space.

You were scared, so you silently cried.

"WOOHOO!! I'M FINALLY GOING TO BE A FATHER! I'M TELLING NII-CHAN!!" He happily yelled as he hugged you tightly.

"Why are you crying? Hey, I'm happy.. Finally.. I'm sorry if I couldn't be here in time.." He kissed your cheek.

You cried even more now, your a crying mess "I just wanted you here!! I'm so lonely in this huge mansion.." He suddenly chuckled "I'm sorry, you know there's a reason why I'm always away right?" You nodded. "I missed you a lot too, I'm just- not good at expressing on what I feel. I'm sorry.."

You went silent for a moment. "I'm sorry for not knowing that.. Why don't let's help each other hmm?" You suggested.

"That's a good suggestion darling, great timing. I won't be away for awhile, so I'll be here doing husband and father duties." He coldly stated, but you felt the care in his tone at the same time.

"I love that!"

"I love you." He said as he cupped your cheeks to kiss you warmly.

[measuredingold]

my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force. 

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong. 

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened. 

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." 

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently. 

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there." 

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse. 

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens. 

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair. 

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home. 

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him. 

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend. 

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..." 

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back. 

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy. 

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.” 

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now." 

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again. 

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee." 

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch." 

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat. 

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me." 

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy. 

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more. 

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you. 

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that. 

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life. 

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even. 

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday. 

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms. 

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be. 

And that's enough for him. 

[sheloveshp]

A day like no other | Harry Potter x reader

summary: its harry‘s birthday and you (his slytherin gf) suprise him at midnight with a birthday he‘ll never forget

fluff, harry is legal, just young love <3

The moon shines bright over London tonight. As if it knows what day it is. The birthday of the boy who lived. Harry already knows it is going to be another forgotten birthday. He really expected it from the dursley’s and he can only hope that you, his girlfriend, won’t forget it too.

It’s 00:30 right now and he can feel himself dozing off already when a sudden noise awoke his curiosity.

tick

“What was that?” Harry whispered

tick

“Again?” He turns to lay on his back now staring up onto the ceiling.

tick

It seems like a little rock is being thrown at his window. Oh god he hoped it was you. Being forgotten by you was a horrible fate and he hoped he wouldn’t b cursed a second time.

Harry stands up from his bed and walks towards the window. He knew you wouldn’t forget him. How could you?

He found you starring up at him. His Slytherin girlfriend y/n l/n outside the dursley’s house. Yes, the Harry Potter was dating a Slytherin and what about it? You had his back since you followed him, Ron and Hermione into the chamber of secrets back in the second year.

“Love, what are you doing here??” Harry whisper-shouts, scared that the Dursley’s might hear him. He didn’t want them to know that he was having fun and neither that he had a girlfriend.

Despite being a bit thrilled as to not wanting to get caught, he is so unbelievably happy just seeing you be here for him and your beaming smile looking up to him.

“Happy Birthday, Darling!” you congratulate him as if it isn’t past midnight and you’re supposed to be at home on the other side of London.

Harry knew how strict your parents were because you’re a descendent of a well-known pure-blood family. He knew you were also risking so much by coming here, if your parents knew you’d probably be forced to live in that broom closer of Harry’s by tomorrow.

Harry is already looking on a way to come down and leave without waking up his uncle and aunt. Thankfully you have everything already planned out.

You wink at him and send him a little enchanted note which reads:

“Happy birthday my Love. I know how you feel whenever your birthday comes around so I thought I’d take you out for a stroll on this year. The following part might scare you but as you already know I am very skilled with my hands.

xoxo your Darling y/n“

Harry just smiles to himself while reading the note, thinking how lucky he is to have you. As you take out your wand and move your lips to utter a spell. You knew magic was forbidden outside of School but you don’t care right now. What you do care about is making this night magical for Harry. Slowly his feet started to rise of his bedroom floor and he started floating.

„woah, woah, woah!“ he whisper shouts again as you raise him outside the window and onto the floor on his feet next to you.

He wasn’t even steady on his feet when you gave him a bear hug and started kissing him all over his face. He reciprocated the hug and started laughing quietly while you still peppered his face with kisses and small “i love you’s”

“Happy Birthday to you, my Love. Ugh! I can’t believe you’re already 18.” You finally look up at him who is also just smiling brightly at you.

“Thank you for coming Dear, I love you too.” Harry kissed your cheek. “Do you maybe want to explain how you got here?” He laughed knowing how strict your parents are and that there was no chance you could’ve sneaked out just like that.

“I hexed them, obviously.” You smiled as if it was just the most normal thing in the world again. “Just how i hexed those damn Dursley’s to get you out of here” You beamed at him with a great smile.

“You what? How did you even do that?” He asked taking your hand up to his mouth to slowly kiss it, while holding eye contact.

“Well, that’s why you love me.” Even after all this time by his side and as a couple he still made you blush.

“You know I do.”

“Now come on! The spell only lasts until one hour after sunrise!” You took his hand in yours and started to walk behind a tree. One you were behind the tree you stood still.

“Oh, I know where this is going.” Harry grinned cheeky while rubbing his hands together excitedly. When he came closer to pull your waist forward and to kiss you, you leaned in only to take out his wand from his back-pocket and teleport both of you.

To the shimmering lake of Hogwarts.

“Oh. my. god.” Harry stumbled a bit before you held him up by his arms. “Y/n, are you crazy? You can’t just do that!” You know that Harry was never the one to teleport but what you also know is that he’d forget all about this once he sees your surprise.

“I am sorry baby. I just wanted to surprise you.” You said in a lower tone while you came closer to him and kissing his neck softly.

“It’s okay babe.” He cupped your cheeks and kissed them softly. A kiss filled with so much affection and love had you threatening to fall to your knees.

„It’s just that the last time I used magic outside of school I had a hearing at the ministry the next day.“ He laughed reminiscing the time he was almost expelled out of Hogwarts which was the year both of you officially started dating.

You rested your forehead on his when you remembered why you’re actually here.

“Harry, do you trust me?”

“Blindly.”

“Alright, I am going to close your eyes now and lead you somewhere. Don’t you dare to peak!”

“Alright, My love.” He said closing his eyes and taking your lead without hesitation.

You lead him towards the lake where you had previously prepared his surprise. Surprises maybe?

A cute patterned picnic blanket set up infront of the lake.

On it a treacle tart.

Wine glasses (to eat the cake with).

A few sandwiches (because you know the dursley’s barely feed him).

A few of his favorite sweets. (You being the favorite of them all).

An enchanted camera.

A mysterious package with a bow on top.

“Surprise!!!” You said with your hands thrown in the air.

Harry’s jaw quite literally dropped to the floor. He knew that might have prepared something besides a stroll around the lake, but this???

All of his favorite stuff including you, his first love and the one of his life. His heart was so content and so filled with love that it’s threatening to overflow with it, with you.

He loves you. so. so. much and so deeply. Harry hasn’t loved like this. He couldn’t, he had no opportunity. He knew love through you and only you.

“Y/n, I- am so-. You didn’t have to do all this for me, just spending time with you makes me the happiest boy alive.” Harry said cupping your cheeks. Honestly, Harry was never that good with words. He showed his love through physical touch or making jokes but words weren’t his strongsuit. Honestly, sometimes it frustrated him deeply. Knowing he loved you with his whole heart and the things you do for him but not being able to show his full gratitude because he just doesn’t know how, made him so so sad.

That’s why, again, he just kissed you to try make you feel a bit of the love he has for you because no kisses on this world nor any words would ever come close to describing his love for you.

“I love you darling.”

“I love you, too. Now come on let’s celebrate!” You said taking his hands and leading him towards the picnic.

When you sat down you immediately took the enchanted camera to take a few pics of harry alone.

“Where did you get that?” Harry inquired, knowing how hard and expensive it is to get one.

“The Weasly brothers let me borrow it.”

And how did Fread and George acquire such money?”

“They stole it!”

“ah that must be it!” You and harry laughed before scooting over to him to take a cute couple pics, hoping one day you’ll show them to your kids. Laughing about how you kidnapped their dad out of his room from the Dursleys

You kiss his cheek and shoot a picture. Both of you sat down and talked, talked, and talked. And laughed, kissed, hugged and touched.

He thanked you many times for the delicious treacle tart that you baked him and ate with wine glasses. Which you took many pictures of, including one of him with a bit of cream on his nose.

“Okay so!” you started to sit up from a stargazing position. “I have another surprise for you my love.” Harry listened carefully with the certain look in his eyes he always had when you were talking. It was the I am listening and only listening to you.

Finally you hand him the wrapped present that has been sitting in the corner the whole time. He wouldn’t be lying if he says that he hasn’t been wondering what the gift was. He was curious but he also didn’t care. He went 11 years with no presents and the day he met you made up for all of those years and the ones to come. Once again, you were his gift.

He took the gift and slowly unwrapped it. In it a Book? No, some sort of Album. A Photo album. Harry was on the verge of tears as he looked through the pages. Pictures of you both as kids, with Ron and Hermione, at Hagrid’s hut drinking tea, at the Yule ball. The most beautiful moments with the dearest people to him.

You looked through the pages with him saying “Rember when…” “Remember when...” Of course he remembered everything. How could he forget any moment he sent with you?

“I- I can’t believe this, yn. thank you so much. I am honestly speechless. I- I love you.” He kisses you intensely again.

You both kept reminiscing about your younger years at Hogwarts. How brave you were at such a young age already. Still sharing pecks here and there.

“Harry I have one last present…”

“Alright now I’m excited.” Harry said as you started to take off your clothes.

“Oh i like where this is going.”

“Harry!” You say as you push a little and giggle. “This is not where this is going.”

You took your shirt off to reveal a tattoo on your arm. It was a waterlily on it a ruby. A waterlily. Lily.

Harry immediately understood, even the ruby that is his mothers birth stone. You liked flowers and he liked Crystals and you got him a Tattoo in remembrance of his late mother. On your body. For the rest of your life.

Harry was categorically in shock and in awe. He would’ve expected everything but this.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. So he reached for the tattoo, softly grazing it with his fingertips. As if it was real; delicate as ever and scared that the lily might with away at his touch.

His gaze flickers between you and the image in front of him.

“y/n…” You only kept looking at him and his reaction. This was the reaction you were hoping for. A tear slowly runs down his cheek.

“y/n, no one has ever done such a thing for me. I- can’t believe you’ve done this.” Another tear rolls down his eye.

“Harry, I owe this woman everything after she saved you that night.” You started slowly. “If it weren’t for her…I would’ve never met you: the love of my life.” A conversation Harry knew well. “This is a reminder for me to never take love for granted, your love, and to be the strong woman your mom was.” The both of you often thought about how life would have been if everything was different. “It will follow me wherever I go. She will follow me wherever I go.”

Harry listening carefully and in this moment of you talking, he knew. He knew you were the one and there was no one besides you. Surely, no woman would ever come close to be love this way he loved you. Neither would any man be loved the way harry was loved.

“I love you. Every bit of love I was deprived from, I get to experience by you my love and I couldn’t be more grateful.” A deep kiss followed.

“Marry me,” You pulled away from Harry and you blushed.

“What?” Harry was looking into your eyes hoping for a positive reaction.

“You heard me, marry me! After we defeat Voldemort let us get a nice little home and get married.” His rambling showed his eagerness and if he could he would marry you right now.

Obviously you were not opposed to the idea at all, you dreamt of this and knew this would happen one day. Never did you think it was this soon though. The timing doesn’t seem to sound that bad though. After defeating Voldemorts you’ll get to be happy again and so does Harry.

“Yes.” That was all he needed to hear before he broke out in a smile and pulled you in again for a deep kiss.

There was no way one could sleep after this lovely night, which was filled with hugs, kisses and cuddles until Sunrise.

Harry held you and knew he was holding the world and all of its treasures in his arms. Oh, this love was truly beautiful. A love he would’ve never imagine to have lived. He was truly the boy who lived now.

[pedroscurls]

the ultimate masterlist: ➢ 18+ only, mdni ➢ 🌶️ - smut || ❤️‍🩹 - angst || 🥰 - fluff last updated: jan 8, 2025

PEDRO PASCAL

FRANKIE MORALES

❤️‍🩹 always here for you: Frankie comforts you as you cope with your grief.

❤️‍🩹 chance encounters [COMPLETE]: you’ve suddenly and tragically lost your best friend and can’t handle the grief. until four strangers give you a glimmer of hope that things will (and can) get better.

❤️‍🩹 hold my hand: for years, you have been in love with Frankie. everyone else saw it, except him, and you never had the courage to tell him how you truly felt. instead, you stuck by his side even when it hurt. and after Colombia, he hadn’t been the same. you knew he had demons (being a veteran and all), but this… this was different. would Frankie finally open his eyes and realize that the woman he was meant to be with had been right in front of him all along?

❤️‍🩹🌶️ third time's a charm [COMPLETE]: there is history between you and Frankie. In fact, you have both broken up twice and yet, you still seem to find your way back to each other. could this third chance be the last and final one?

JAVIER PEÑA

❤️‍🩹🌶️ all we are: you and Javier have history and have been in this endless cycle for years, always trying to “one-up” each other, but what happens after a night of steamy, dirty sex that the truth finally comes out?

❤️‍🩹🌶️ innocent eyes: Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy, finally have one night off. so, when they go to a local bar to unwind, Javier certainly wasn’t expecting you to walk through the doors.

JOEL MILLER

❤️‍🩹🌶️ always been you [COMPLETE]: you and Joel have become best friends, but as the years pass, you both realize that the love you have for each other goes beyond just “best friends”. will either of you have the courage to express your true feelings or will you both just remain secretly in love with each other?

❤️‍🩹 broken souls [IN PROGRESS]: what happens when you realize love isn’t enough? and when years later, you meet again that all the pain and heartbreak comes rushing back… like it never left.

❤️‍🩹🌶️ dirty little secret [IN PROGRESS]: when your best friend and his fiancée, Sarah, have their belated engagement party (kicking off their pre-wedding parties), you meet the father of the bride and realize that he’s completely off limits. but you always did like older men, and Joel? well, maybe he could be your dirty little secret.

🌶️ guys night out: Tommy takes Joel to a strip club.

🥰 in case you didn't know: Joel steps out of his comfort zone and puts his feelings into words the best way he knows how.

❤️‍🩹🌶️ the teacher [IN PROGRESS]: you have been on your own for over a year and after Maria saves you and brings you to Jackson, you try and settle in, doing your best to contribute to the community. though, it doesn’t help that your neighbor, Joel Miller, reminds you of a special person from before Outbreak day.

MARCUS PIKE

🥰🌶️ second chances [IN PROGRESS]: after Marcus moves to DC - alone - he’s determined to just focus on work. after a failed marriage followed with his failed relationship with Lisbon, Marcus believes that love just isn’t in the cards for him anymore. until you move in next door.

HUGH JACKMAN

REAL PERSON FANFICTION (note: i am no longer writing rpf)

🌶️ ❤️‍🩹 🥰 training partners [COMPLETE]: you hire a new personal trainer to get you back on track, but you don't realize that she's also hugh jackman's trainer until you show up to the gym. ↳ pt 1. - pt 2. - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7 - pt. 8 - pt. 9 - pt. 10 - pt. 11 - pt. 12 - pt. 13 - pt. 14 - pt. 15 - pt. 16 - pt. 17

🌶️ ❤️‍🩹 secret crushes: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. ↳ pt. 1 (can be read as a standalone) - pt. 2 (which includes blake and ryan with reader!)

🌶️ sneak away with me: you sneak away with hugh during a party.

🌶️ welcome to broadway: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him.

🌶️ 🥰 baby, stay in bed: head over heels in love with hugh, you spend the night for the first time... and realize that hugh feels the same way.

🌶️ save a horse, ride a cowboy: hugh takes you to go flower picking, but all you can think about is taking him back to his car and riding him.

🥰 let the world know: you and hugh have been keeping your relationship a secret... until hugh accidentally lets millions of his followers know exactly who he's been dating.

🥰 cooking with hugh: hugh gets to see you in action... and he reaps the benefits too.

🥰 the first date: hugh takes you out for your first date.

🥰 sunday nights: sunday nights with hugh are your favorite -- movie night, cuddling, and finally some alone time with him.

🌶️ 🥰 romantic getaway: hugh takes you to greece for a romantic getaway after rumors of your relationship with him start to circulate the media... but there's no hiding it anymore.

🥰 first impressions: hugh meets your kids for the first time.

🥰 bad influence: already running late for work, hugh convinces you to call in sick.

🥰 mesmerized from afar: despite your relationship with hugh being out in the open, you both still do your best to keep it professional in the public eye... until hugh makes it very obvious during a hollywood event.

🌶️ 🥰 our little secret: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other.

🌶️ you put a spell on me: hugh attends a masquerade-themed party and you capture his attention the moment you step into the building.

🥰 seasons changing: hugh and reader get ready for fall in new york.

🌶️ late to the party: possibly already late to ryan and blake's party, hugh becomes just slightly annoyed when you can't decide what to wear... and when he realizes that you're doing it on purpose, he only knows one way to make sure you don't do it again.

❤️‍🩹 better together: after filming finishes with deadpool & wolverine, your relationship with hugh progresses... until he breaks things off with you. it isn't until ryan invites you to the press tour that you see him again and finally have a serious conversation with him.

❤️‍🩹 🥰 in the shadows: hugh's excited to see you at his premiere, but when he sees the look on your face when he's posing with one of his co-stars, he's confused because you decide to leave without a word.

LOGAN HOWLETT

🌶️ runaway bride [old man!logan]: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal.

🌶️ just the tip [old man!logan]: you're ready to take the next step with logan, but you're still a bit nervous.

🥰🌶️ christmas confessions [COMPLETE - origins!logan]: unable to go back home for christmas, you spend it with logan - the man you had been in love with for years.

❤️‍🩹🌶️ in every lifetime [COMPLETE - worst!wolverine]: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? ↳ pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5

🌶️ touch starved [worst!wolverine]: logan agreed to go out with wade, having been promised a low-key night, but he should've known than to trust wade for his word. he didn't agree to spend his night at a strip club and he's just about ready to leave until he sees you.

❤️‍🩹 you broke me first [xmen series!logan]: logan comes back to the mansion in search of you... but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer.

WYATT BOSE (jamie getz)

🌶️ playing with fire: wyatt (aka, jamie) always had one thing on his mind: money. so after he and jonathan part ways, he meets you - a woman that suddenly makes him realize that there's more to life than treachery, manipulation, and violence. but when he has another chance at getting more money than he's ever had before, he goes back to his old ways... and you're more than willing to help him in any way possible.

[aptbelle]

FOREST BOY

pairing: earthfairy!jun x female!reader

summary: y/n was a lonely little girl. she had no friends, just her imagination and the forest behind her home to get her through the day. the forest is where she’d run to to escape reality and day dream. one day, after running from her bullies, she meets a strange, yet charming boy, wen junhui. junhui shows her what lies deeper in the forest, and she is amazed. every single day, she goes to the forest just to see junhui, and they spend hours together. one thing y/n had noticed about junhui was that she never saw him outside of the forest, nor did he have any interest in leaving. they spend every day together until y/n has to go away for college. the news breaks junhui’s heart, and he goes away, which hurt y/n in return. four years later, y/n lands a job in her hometown, allowing her to come back home. she is excited to see junhui again, but he is nowhere to be seen, no matter how far in the forest she travels. however, she meets another boy, who is very similar to junhui, or so y/n thinks.

warnings: this story only includes jun and minghao! they are characters in this and not related to the ones irl. lower case intended! this story may have possible angst!

author's note: this is a story i had started on wattpad a couple years ago, but i never published it. so i decided to continue it on here! i hope you enjoy! i am a student, so i will update as much as i can while juggling school.

previous chapter: prologue

next chapter:

CHAPTER 1: HOME SWEET HOME

4 years later…

y/n never realized how blurry the train made the outside world look. the first time she took one on her way to college, she was occupied by a book the whole time. having finished all her books, she was left with nothing to read. she had her headphones on and was taking in the scenery of her hometown.

it’s been years since she came home, with school and summer internships she was very busy. all the hard work had finally paid off, she was finally graduated and began her career for her local newspaper, writing blogs about whatever the managers tell her. her first task was writing a nature article. this allowed her to be able to stay at home, for once.

she felt so guilty for not visiting more, but her parents had busy schedules as well, so hopefully they understood.

it was the end of spring, so everything was in full bloom. y/n had missed all the trees and flowers. her college town was nothing but city; the closest garden was too far for y/n to even consider walking. she reminisced about her childhood and teenage days she spent in the forest, with nothing but her thoughts and wen junhui to keep her company.

wen junhui.

y/n felt her heart skip. junhui. the boy she spent almost every hour with. she hadn’t thought about him in awhile. he was the reason she loved everything about nature. he taught y/n all she knows about the forest. she had created so many memories with him between those trees.

she could not wait to see him again.

y/n remembered how she left him, without a good explanation. she hoped he had come around, and would be happy upon her return.

though it was going by fast, y/n began to recognize the scenery around her. she was almost at her local train station. the stop would be any minute. she paused her music and put her phone away into her purse. she took her headphones off of her ears and put them around her neck.

her luggage was in the overhead compartment. she didn’t have much, just her clothes. she knew her mother would have kept her room just the same. the extra stuff she had around her dorm, she sold for extra money.

just a few minutes later, the train slowed down. the blurred image outside the window became a clear show of the station. y/n stood up and grabbed her luggage’s. she looked around outside, and saw her mother standing there with a sign.

‘welcome home, y/n!’ the sign read. her mother was shaking it around with a smile. her mother was usually the strict type, but where y/n had not been home in a very long time, her mother showed a happier side.

y/n hurried into the middle aisle so that she would not be the last to leave the train. she finally reached the doors to the outside and stepped off the train onto the platform.

she turned her head and instantly saw her mother running towards her.

“my sweet, y/n!” she exclaimed. she wrapped her arms around y/n. y/n missed these hugs so much. it felt so warm and inviting, reminding her of old times.

“hello, mom,” y/n hugged back, putting her head into her mother’s neck.

“i am so glad you are back home,” her mother said, letting go of the hug and putting her hands on y/n’s shoulders. y/n noticed the tears in her eyes. “you look so mature,” her mother continued.

y/n doesn’t think she had changed her appearance that much. she did cut her hair and change her style a bit. then again, her mother hadn’t seen her other than video calls for a couple years.

“thank you, mama,” y/n replied. her mother hadn’t changed at all, aside from the slight gray peeking from her roots. y/n had always been told she was a spitting image of her mother, which was a compliment she always loved to hear.

“was the trip okay?” her mother asked, “i know train rides can get boring after a while.”

“yes, it was alright,” y/n said, “it was nice seeing everything after so long.”

her mother smiled and patted y/n’s arms. “that’s so good to hear.”

y/n’s mother grabbed her stuff. “the car is just this way. don’t worry about driving, i will let you rest.”

“thanks, mama,” y/n replied.

y/n followed her mother to the car. there was a crowd of people at the station. the mother and daughter pushed through the crowd until they reached outside. her mother led y/n just a few more steps until they found the car.

y/n’s mother popped the truck and carefully set her luggage in. y/n walked to the passenger side and opened the door. she was suddenly hit with a nostalgic smell. the car had always kept the clean, new-car scent that y/n had loved. she truly felt at home. she got in the car, shut the door, and strapped the seat belt.

seconds later, y/n’s mother got in, letting out a big sigh. “oh, y/n, i am just so happy you’re finally home,” she said, patting her daughters thigh.

“yes, it’s been far too long,” y/n agreed. her mother started the car and began to drive out of the parking lot. “i’m surprised you aren’t on one of your business trips right now,” y/n continued.

her mother slightly smiled. “i’m scheduled to leave for one tomorrow, and stay gone for a couple days.”

y/n looked down. she knew her mother was very busy, but she had just gotten home. this didn’t upset her, though, she was used to this. this did give her more time to herself. more time to spend in the woods.

more time to find junhui.

“what are you smiling so wide for?” y/n’s mother asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“nothing,” y/n said, “just excited to see an old friend, junhui.”

y/n’s mother furrowed her eyebrows. “y/n,” she said sternly, “i thought you would grow out of that. this ‘junhui’ boy doesn’t exist. you’re too old for this kind of imagination.”

oh, right.

y/n’s mother never believed her when she brought up junhui. y/n didn’t blame her. junhui would never want to come over for dinner, and would only come to her house late at night, never through the front door but through the window. he would always use the same excuse, that his parents didn’t want him going to strangers’ houses.

y/n never met his parents neither, or seen his house. the more she thought, she only ever saw him in the forest. he didn’t go to school, or to town. just the forest. she had always assumed he had been homeschooled. that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“he exists, mother,” y/n said, chuckling, “he was just super shy.”

“super shy and super odd,” her mother replied, “only staying in that forest. no wonder you didn’t get kidnapped.”

already with the scolding. y/n loved her mother, but she knows that junhui was real, no matter if her mother saw her or not.

“plus,” her mother continued, “i never saw him when i went to the forest for a walk. just dead trees. maybe he left when you did, along with the rest of your mind.”

y/n kept her mouth shut, not wanting to further draw out her so called ‘delusions.’ she’d introduce them one day, if junhui was still around, which she hoped.

“are you still planning on keeping in touch with your college friends? i know you said you had made a few,” her mother chimed in.

y/n did make a few friends, but none were too close. she had a roommate in college, but they were far from friends, polar opposites. she told her mother, however, that they were close as can be.

“they’re all busy with their careers,” y/n told her mom, “not much time to talk.”

“ah, i see,” her mother nodded.

before too long, the two reached their neighborhood. everything felt like nothing had changed. their house was in the far part of the neighborhood, so it took maybe another couple minutes to reach it.

it was a comforting two story, accompanied by the wonderous forest in the back. just the sight of the trees made y/n feel safe. so many memories, and more to be made.

“home sweet home!” y/n’s mother exclaimed, pulling up to the house. she put the car in park and unbuckled. “don’t wait too long, you’re room isn’t in perfect shape for nothing!” y/n’s mother hopped out of the car and shut the door. she went around the back and grabbed her daughters stuff before heading into the house.

y/n stepped out of the car as well, looking around at her surroundings. no major changes, but she did notice a car at one of the houses down the street. when y/n left, that house was for sale. standing outside of it was a man who looked to be about y/n’s age. he had a black mullet and glasses. it seemed he was tending to some plants in front of his house. he turned in y/n’s direction, flashed her a smile, and waved. y/n waved back, and he turned back to what he was doing. he had an attractive smile, one y/n would remember, but she had never seen him before.

she turned her focus back to her childhood home, and began to walk in. she opened the door and was greeted once again with a familiar smell. her mother’s favorite scent was vanilla-lavender. she always made sure the house smelt like it. every time she’d smell this scent outside of her home, it made her think of home. now she was finally there.

“go get settled into your room, honey,” her mother said, “i’ll be asleep before too long. i have to leave early in the morning.”

“okay, thank you, mom,” y/n said. she walked up to her mother and gave her a hug.

“y/n, thank you for coming back,” her mother said.

“of course, there’s no where i’d rather be.” y/n let go of the hug, grabbed her stuff, and walked up to her room.

it was the last room in the hall, closest to the back of the house and closest to the forest. the door was shut, and still had the ‘y/n’s room’ sign on the door surrounded by assorted stickers that she put there when she was a little girl. she opened the doors and was flooded with nostalgia.

the bed was still on the left side of the room doused in the blue bedsheets and matching comforter that feels like marshmallows. the bookshelf on the right side still had all the same books that y/n had read a dozen times. the desk next to it was oddly neat. y/n usually had some kind of mess going on on it. the window was placed perfectly in the middle. the window which jun had popped in on countless occasions. the window which y/n had always escaped with him out of. the window showed a perfect view of the forest. she was eager to go for a walk. she needed material for her first article anyways, and the forest would be a perfect spot to come up with ideas.

she needed to unpack first. she set her luggage up on her bed and unzipped it. she didn’t have too many outfits, but she had a lot of lounge clothes. she put all her outfits in the closet ans the random shirts and shorts in the drawers, along with the undergarments. she left one set of lounge clothes out: black t-shirt and grey sweats. she changed out of her current clothes and put the lounge set on. she put on a pair of sneakers she brought with her.

y/n’s door opened. her mother was standing outside.

“i’m heading to bed now, sweetie,” her mother said, “are you settling in nicely?”

“yes, everything’s just the same,” y/n said, “i was going to head out to the forest a bit, find something to write my first article about.”

her mother nodded. “well, if you see you’re imaginary friend, tell him i said hi,” she joked before leaving the room.

y/n hoped she saw her ‘imaginary’ friend. she missed him after all this time, and hoped he was still around. she had so much to tell him about, and she was sure he did as well.

y/n grabbed her laptop and headed out the room. she went downstairs and to the back door. she opened it and headed into the forest.

there had been a perfectly paved path that she’d always take. she had walked it so many times that the grass had never been able to grow there. looking around she had noticed the trees had new vines on them, new bushes had sprouted, trees had grown taller, but she knew it would always be the same forest she basically grew up in.

she walked farther and farther in until something caught her eye: a rose bush. roses were her favorite, and a perfect topic for her to write about. roses symbolized so many different things, and were the cause of many memories with jun, who never forget they were her favorite

—

“tag, you’re it!” junhui yelled as he tapped 14 year old y/n’s shoulder from behind. before y/n could fully turn around, jun had already sped off. he was a lot faster than she could ever be, which is why he loved to play tag.

“jun!” y/n chuckled as she began to run after him the best she could. he was so far ahead that he looked like a tiny speck. y/n’s one goal was to catch up to him, and that was all she was focused on.

not the fact that her shoelace was untied.

she sped her pace up, not taking her eyes off of jun. all of a sudden, she felt her shoe get caught. she looked down and saw that she had stepped on her shoelace, causing her to fall in front of her.

in front of her, unbeknownst to her, was a large rose bush filled with thorns. when she fell, she felt them all prick into her at once. some of the thorns were in her face, arms, and thighs. she yelled out in pain.

“jun, help!” she called out, but he was probably too far to hear. everytime she tried to move, a new thorn pricked her in a new place. she was basically stuck in her favorite flower bush. to most people, it would have been great to be surrounded by their favorite flower, but in that moment, y/n wished to be anywhere else.

“y/n? where are you?” junhui’s voice rang. he must have turned around after he didn’t hear y/n chasing him anymore.

“jun!” she yelled, “i’m in the bush! help!” she peaked her head up as much as she could, and she saw jun in the distance. he was looking around frantically until he finally caught sight of the bush. he ran over to her as fast as he could.

“oh my gosh, y/n,” he said, “how did this happen? are you alright?”

“i tripped over my shoelace, and fell on a bed of roses,” y/n chuckled, “it hurts to move.”

“here,” jun said, putting his hands on her sides, “i’ll help you up.” he began to lift her out of the bush. thorns latched onto her and were stuck in her skin, but most of them were still on the bush.

“oh, y/n,” jun pouted, “you have maybe 20 thorn pricks. i am so sorry we shouldn’t have played this game out here.”

“jun, it’s okay,” y/n consoled him, “i had fun. i always have fun with you.” each spot burned in pain. she looked down at the arms and upper legs and saw many bloody cuts. she reached her hand up to her face, grazing her cheek. she winced in pain, feeling more cuts. tears rushed into her eyes.

junhui grabbed her hand. “don’t touch your face,” he said, “there are more cuts on it.” his dark brown eyes were full of concern and empathy. he wiped y/n’s tears before they got into and of the cuts. “i can fix them for you. make them heal faster.” jun took y/n by the hand once again and began to walk her deeper into the forest.

every step y/n took, her left ankle felt sore. she groaned in pain following behind jun. he took around and took notice of this, stopping in his tracks. “here,” he said, “put your arms around my neck.”

y/n nodded, doing as he said. she put her arms around him, and felt him reach under her legs and lift her up. he began to carry her bridal-style into the forest. “you feeling okay, m’lady?”

y/n smiled. “besides from all these pricks, yes,” she said to her charming friend carrying her, “this feels quite nice.”

“special treatment for a special girl,” jun said. he always had such a way with words, and he was the most caring friend y/n had, the only one to be correct.

“where are we going?” y/n asked. this is the farthest they have travelled in a while, and she doesn’t know what down here would help with her cuts.

“you’ll see,” jun said, “i’ve been meaning to show you this little spot anyways. now we have a perfect reason to go.”

that just made y/n too curious. what could it possibly be?

“and we are here!” jun exclaimed.

y/n looked ahead of them and her jaw dropped. in front of them was a beautiful pond. it was surrounded by vines and trees. the water was so clear. it almost looked blue. it was like an oasis.

“my little- wait,” jun said, “our little paradise.” he smiled at y/n. he carried her over to one of the rocks by the pond and sat her down on it.

“junhui, this place is beautiful!” she said, taking in the scenery.

“isn’t it?” jun said giving y/n a smile. “sit tight and i’ll clean the cuts for you. this is the cleanest water you can find.”

y/n relaxed on the rock as she watched jun at work. he walked over to a bush full of coral bells. they were called such for their bell-like shape. he took one of the flowers off and dipped it into the pond, collecting water in it. he brought the water-filled flower back to y/n, kneeling down in front of her.

jun took two fingers into the flower and rubbed the water over the cuts, wiping away all the blood. the water made the cuts feel painless, seemingly healing them. it made y/n feel at ease.

“you wanna know something?” jun said to y/n, his eyes looking all over her face, “no matter how much your face gets cut up, you’ll still be the prettiest girl in the world.”

y/n blushed. he always knew how to compliment her. he had the nicest and sweetest things to say no matter what.

“you’re a liar,” y/n chuckled as jun finished cleaning all her face-cuts.

“i never lie, m’lady,” jun said, dipping his fingers into the water again. “can i see your arms now?”

y/n nodded, showing her arms to jun, and he began to clean. he took care of them pretty quick, then moved to her legs. just a few minutes later, she was all taken care of. none of them burned anymore. y/n felt no pain.

“there you go,” jun said, “all better.”

y/n smiled at her friend. “jun, sometimes i swear you’re some kind of forest god or something.

jun shrugged and laughed. “something like that,” he said. his face suddenly changed, like he had remembered something. “i almost forgot!” he said as he walked off.

y/n cocked her head to the side. ‘what did he forget? i’m feeling all fine now,’ y/n wondered to herself.

jun was at another flower bush. this time it was another rose bush. he picked one of the roses off, taking the thorns off the stem one by one. he walked back over to y/n. he pushed her hair back behind her ear, and placed the rose there.

“finishing touch,” jun smiled.

y/n smiled. roses had always been her favorite, and jun remembered it. “kinda ironic, don’t you think?” she joked, which made jun chuckle.

“i couldn’t help it,” jun said, “they’re your favorite, and they suit you so well. everytime i see a rose, i think of you. no rose can live up to your beauty.”

y/n smiled wide. she wrapped her arms around the boy. “thank you, junhui, for everything,” she said.

he hugged her back. “of course, m’lady. anything for you, forever and always.”

—

that day just made y/n love roses even more, even though they tore her skin up. after looking at them for a few more seconds, she decided to start typing.

“Roses, often hailed as the "Queen of Flowers," hold a special place in human culture and history. Their beauty, fragrance, and variety have made them a symbol of love, passi-”

a sudden noise behind her caused her to pause typing. she looked behind her, but didn’t see anything. ‘must’ve been a squirrel or bird,’ she said to herself and went back to typing.

“-passion, and admiration across different civil-”

the noise was closer now, and sounded bigger than any squirrel or bird. it sounded like footsteps. the footsteps were then accompanied by a voice.

“well, hello there.”

[lol-jackles]

Hi, you mentioned TW recently and I remembered what a disaster it was. The lack of effort and interest in making things work makes me wish that production had never seen the light of day.

But it also made me think of the problem it caused, which now seems to have been overcome. I'd like to get your opinion on this: how do men/friends handle the situation when they work together and attempts to take over the business or franchise arise? I know that the business factor has to be considered, but my question is, once the issues are resolved, does the esteem and image remain? Is it a case of forgive and forget, or forgive but don't forget?

It is worth noting that in the TW case there were interviews and accusations, some of them false and outright lies, which to some extent protected and attacked the public image, and of course a legacy was at stake. On top of that, the way it was publicised was sordid and generally a real mess.

Is it easy for men to forget these actions, do they forgive or do they hold grudges?

I ask because I think you can shed some light on this doubt, and you are aware of the whole context. Thanks for reading.

Forgive but don't forget. When the boundaries between work-friend and actual friend are blurred, it often falls on the betrayed to take a step back and determine what are the facts i.e. did he sabotage me or did he act without me in mind?  Did he put his interest first and it resulted in me suffering harm?  Depending on Jared’s answer, it may change how he sees his circumstances.  Then there is the added complexity of competition for jobs in an industry with 97% unemployment rate. 

On top of that is the natural competitiveness among males, even between friends.  Men go through the competition phase with each other in order to determine hierarchy and once that’s established, they then “reconcile” and move into the cooperative phase.  The difference between men and women is men are not supposed to leave the cooperative phase while women have no problem going from competitive to cooperative and back to competitive phase.  It’s why “frenemies” exist among women more so than men.

Jensen goes back to competing with Jared because of the scarcity of jobs in the post-SPN era and due to the codependent-ish nature of their friendship, Jensen is also competing for Jared to show that he is good enough for Jared because from Jensen’s perspective, he has known for at least 2 years since before season 13 that Jared was leaving Supernatural and to him, that also means Jared has been leaving Jensen for 2 years. In my experience from witnessing some real life enmeshed and codependents, people like Jensen don’t feel good enough and so tries to take the “mature” route by avoiding talking to their friend while feverishly working at themselves or at their jobs.  In Jensen’s case, the prequel-turned-retconned-sequel.

Jared is not competing with Jensen because he has a thriving career, and in the post-SPN era Jensen’s actions didn’t cost Jared’s career, such promotion or a job. So it makes it possible for Jared to forgive Jensen if he choose to see the betrayal as mistakes that wasn’t malicious, but as business actions.  Plus Jared may feel he partially owes his success to Jensen for talking him out of breaking is SPN contract after season 3, thus saving him from getting blacklisted by furious producers for costing them lucrative syndication deals.

Finally, Jared can forgive Jensen because he’s a friend, not a spouse.  We can tolerate a lot of red flags in friends, my friend can be bad with money and make very questionable life choices, and if worse comes to worse down the road, I’ll just stop hanging out with my friend.  But those same red flags can’t be tolerated in potential life-partners because the stakes are so much higher: buy property together, combining finances, raise a child (or pet) together, and rely on each other 100% when times get rough i.e. ill health.

[omorimodreverie]

Reverie Devlog - 2025 January

Intro

New Year has just passed and now we are in 2025, which also means a new Dev log!

This log is a relatively shorter one in terms of progress made, as the majority of work  happened in November, as December was busy for almost everyone. Instead, part of the focus in this devlog will concern management during times of low activity.

Progress

Main writing properly reviewed

Aside from major cutscenes and dialogue-heavy writing, work was also finalized on any transition scenes that will lead to the next chapter.

Gameplay progress testing started

A lot of things are still missing, but the chapter is playable for the main progression.

Testing was done to ensure that the chapter can be accessed through previous chapter (Ch. 3) save files.

Miscellaneous RPGMV work

Various minor bug fixes, as well as cutscene tweaks.

While no major implementation was done, it still added up to quite a lot of work.

Enemy AI brainstormed and drafted

These are just drafts for now, however, and proper testing with stats will take place later on

What’s Next

As of now, a decent chunk of people in the team are still on a well-deserved break - January will likely not see any major spike in activity. At this point, identifying specific tasks needed to be completed is sometimes tricky, even when a lot of things are obviously missing.

The probable first thing on our task list is simply playing through what we have so far, and looking for anything missing: ranging from technical bugs, to gameplay aspects (communicating where to go next or balancing in battles).

For those interested, at the moment the majority of RPGMV related tasks are hooked on the Github Project of the REVERIE project repository. Even though I was out for over a month, I did manage to list a bunch of tasks requiring completion while playing through in advance. It is likely that something similar will be done for this month as well.

As for a specific list of those tasks (that I can publicly talk about):

Extra optional areas - these are after the main chapter bosses and optional challenges. They tend to be large and have more winding paths, but are only 1-3 maps.

Extra optional fights, similar to above, but specific battles. Chapter 4 will come with a dedicated optional area, unlike the chapters that came before.

Creating and implementing the ending cutscene, though this is pretty much the final thing on the to-do list.

Playtesting and balancing various combat side gameplay.

Making skill animations, if time and resources permit

Final Notes

Overall, the past 2 months have been more lackluster in terms of progress, but that is usual and to be expected during Winter break / New Year (as most people get busy). I myself have been almost completely offline for over a month, so even I need to catch up on the work done so far: that's the reason why this dev log is a bit delayed.

Anyways, as a thanks for reading this far, here's a teaser for a battle theme for The Dungeon area and a preview of a battle gimmick there!

(It might seem a bit strange to separate battle themes for a minor areas; it's a remnant from trying to manage music in advance way back since Chapter 2)

[goldsbitch]

Twelve grapes

chapter 2 - Red and Blue

Does he always talk so much?" Charles asks, wondering whether excessive talking is a requirement for Red Bull drivers. Max snaps right back. "Only when he's awake." Charles nods understandingly. "Must be hard for you," he mocks Daniel's tone.

or Charles spends the afternoon pinning over his ultimate rival.

warning: m/m kiss, 8k words

Fake it til you make it. But, Charles has been faking it for so long now, he can hardly remember what it feels like to believe in himself. He pushes through. There is no other option.

It only dawns on him after the dreadfully long medical exam, when he’s finally out of the car and watching the replays of Alonso launching himself over his Sauber. It hits him when he sees all the other people, worried and then relieved that he survived just fine. Another tell-tale sign is all the phone calls and messages he keeps getting, from just about anyone he's ever met.

But, there isn't fear inside of him - he does not allow that emotion entrance, ever. He is convinced that if he had, it would be over for him in the world of motorsport. And who is he without that?

Anger piles up inside him, which is not an unfamiliar feeling, but the intensity is on another level.

It feels like the paddock is trying to suffocate him. There are people, cameras everywhere and he would give anything to leave - like right now. He walks and walks and walks. Circles, triangles, whichever will confuse anyone watching the most.

The start of his first F1 season feels like a bittersweet dream. Him coming in, having three amazing races and then finding the person source of misfortune for the following ones. DNF's, crashes and who knows what else. There is always the debrief afterwards, where he has to sit and watch his mediocre teammate smirk with unmasked joy. Charles believes he is not a violent person, but if he really had to punch someone, it would be without a doubt Marcus Ericsson.

The more he spirals, the clearer the face of his teammate becomes, until Charles finally snaps, finds an alley between the technical trucks and proceeds to start kicking one of the tires with everything he has.

The-stupid-blonde-asshole. Untalented-waste-of-a-seat. He can't rob him of his chance at Ferrari. He is so close.

"Uhm, hm."

The excessively loud pseudo-cough snaps the young driver back to reality. Only then he realizes just how tense his whole body is and how his foot hurts from the numerous kicks he granted to the truck in front of him. He can't calm himself immediately. But, he stops and turns around, to evaluate the damage he would need to clear by not making sure enough to avoid any witnesses. He quickly concluded the worst thing to happen would be for a fan or a team principal to stand there. When he locks eyes with the person standing few meters into the alley, he makes a mental note never to assume he can imagine the worst.

Standing there, with all his grace and beauty is none other than Max Verstappen. He spares him one look and then goes on to examine the kicked tire. Charles is about to drown in embarassment when he hears him speak.

"Not bad for a French guy," he remarks with a smirk and stands back up. Why anyone would think teasing someone mid-rage is a good idea is beyond Charles. He avoids looking at him as he bites his lips in frustration and adds blond people of all hair shades to his list of enemies. Max's hair counts as blond, therefore that makes them two people he wants to kick, along with Marcus. As if he could read his thoughts, he runs his hand through the messy, post race strands, which sends Charles into the loudest sigh he probably ever mustered.

"You know, I have a special wooden desk back home for when I need to punch things," the Dutch says matter-o-factly.

"I don't have an anger problem like you," he snarls through gritted teeth, failing at proving his point.

"Right. I also have a cheeky bottle of whiskey in my driver's room, if you wanna take the edge off." Yes, alcohol after an anger spree practically screams healthy, Charles wants to reply - but doesn't.

His heartbeat is somewhat coming back to down to post-race normal, he rests his hands on his waist and stares at the tire once again. He gulps, turns his look back at Max, who is still standing there, waiting. Never before he thought that Max would be the one offering him help to find his peace of mind. He must be tired or sick. "Come on, Charles," Max states, but does not move. There is something incredibly grounding about his certainty. A wave of calm hits Charles like a tsunami. Out of nowhere, it's like time stops and the world around fades into a grey hue. Charles counts his deep breaths. Stoic Max stares at him, as if he knows something more than him. It's the tone he uses that grounds him the most. Charles would normally snap back into getting mad at that fact that three words and Verstappen manages to change his mood - but he is so tired. Sudden realization of that steers his answer. "Ok," he says simply and tries not to read into the smile that creeps onto Max's face. Charles can't get the song Pale Blue Eyes out of his head.

//

Charles is happy that unlike him, Max still has all of his five braincells working and chooses the least visible way into Red Bull motorhome. It is probably a miracle that he manages to sneak him in, though it was way later after the race than Charles assumed. His anger walk must have been minutes long. He suppresses any guilt about his team, who are probably searching for him. He likes Sauber people, but tries not to think of the as his team. Because they hopefully won't be for long. It's the thought about the ongoing Ferrari talks that get his riled up again. Maybe walking into the den of the devil - Red Bull - was the biggest mistake he made that day. A visible reminder of how Max already had everything Charles wished for. Top team that's capable of fighting podiums. A place that screams "Max' home". He is not a visitor, he is someone who the teams counts on in their plans for the future. Not only is Charles still angry, he feels smaller than ever, as he drags behind him. The perfect metaphor for his career so far. Anger is slowly getting replaced by despair. Typical Charles' spiral.

He sinks in deep into the couch in Max's room. A small glass with honey colored liquid is in his hands immediately after. This is the moment Charles remembers he hates whiskey.

"So, you're on a bit of a run of bad races, huh?" Max opens and sips his drink, without even a hint of having an intention of toasting. Then again, Charles has nothing to toast to. Yet. Despair gets overshadowed by the hope the Ferrari contract might be a way out of this "run of bad races".

"Yeah. The car just does not have it. Or maybe I don't have it and it's actually good that other people crash into me, at least the fans get a good show."

"There is a difference between self-criticism and self-hatred, you know?" Max says in an uncharacterically calm tone. Charles can't think of any other reply apart from an eye roll.

"However, you had an impressive start. I was actually worried," Max continues, making Charles's heartbeat freeze. "For a moment," he adds maliciously after few seconds of silence, bringing Charles back to life. Max was worried and now he pities him. Oh, how nicely paved the way to hell is.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me," he spits out, party regretting that he ever followed Max, partly happy he can be unreasonably mad at someone without much of a consequence. He's always playing the good PR boy. It's all calculated, he is not in his final destination yet. His goal is not simply to be in F1, his goal is to crush it. And he is sitting across from the one who is on his way to have it all. Max dared to smirk as he kept casually leaning against the motorhome wall.

"I would never degrade you by feeling sorry for you, mate," Max reacts, his tone hinting he shared Charles's disregard for drivers pitying each other.

"Good," Charles concludes and sips from the horribly bad drink.

"Was the crash bad? I saw some replays and I'm surprised you're sitting here. I'd expect you be to locked with the medics," Max changes his tone to a more casual one. Like they weren't talking about a several G crash involving multiple cars and a world champion flying over his head.

"I think this was my worst one yet," he admits. "The medics let me go after making sure they do every test on this planet on me."

"So, tell me. You pregnant?"

Charles laugh as the stupid joke. He blames his tired mind. It is noticable that Max is pleased with himself. Who would have though he'd be sitting here, in a Red Bull driver room, after a massive crash, cracking dumb jokes with Verstappen out of all people.

"How long is the car going to take to repaire?" the Dutch asks, waking Charles up a bit. Was that why he brought him here? To lure information out of him?

"I'm sure it's fine. I have other cats to whip," he remarks quickly, already planning on starting to being the one asking questions.

"Wha-you're whipping cats?" Max frowns, half confused, half concerned.

"Yeah, why would-"

"Whipping cats?!" It is Max now who would be called the "angry" one in the room.

Charles doesn't understand why he looks so baffled. "Yeah, j’ai d’autres chats à fouetter, it's the mechanics problem to do so."

There is pure confusion in the room, before it finally clicks. "Mate, I don't think that translates directly. I don't want to give out advice, but don't go around saying you're whipping cats for fun," Max mutters.

"Um, does it not?" Charles speaks while red runs into his face. It's all the languages in his head, one jumping over another. How is it that everyone else seems to not make these mistakes anymore.

Finally, Max lets out a small chuckle. "Happens to all of us," he contradicts what Charles didn't even have a chance to say.

To say the door opens silently and smoothly would be an understatement. Daniel Ricciardo slams in, like the owns the place. Charles does not understand many things, the Australian driver will probably be on the top of that list. He automatically stiffs up.

Daniel closes the door and pauses, taking in the scene with his "punch me" grin. "Well, well. What do we have here? Max Verstappen and… wait, don’t tell me." He snaps his fingers theatrically. "Charles Leclerc. Sauber’s crown jewel."

Charles’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond.

Max observes without a reaction. Daniel does not wait a response. "Didn’t expect to find you here, mate. Shouldn’t you be back at Sauber, poring over data and figuring out how to make that car go faster than a lawnmower?" he sings his vowels in a tone so unpleasant to Charles's ears. Yes, Charles thinks. I should be. But I am not. Sue me.

Max shoots Daniel a warning look, but Daniel either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

He leans against the counter, his tone shifting, almost sympathetic. "It must be hard, though. Coming into F1, everyone expecting you to be the next big thing. Having all those hopes and dreams on your shoulders, only to realize... the car’s not good enough. That no matter how talented you are, sometimes you just can’t win."

Charles stiffens, his grip tightening on the glass. He feels his anger building up again and the urge to storm out growing inside. He closes his eyes with the hope that maybe once he opens them again, the Australian will be gone.

Daniel smiles, almost kindly. "But hey, chin up. Every legend has to start somewhere. Even if it’s at the back of the grid."

There’s a beat of silence. Charles swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. Max, sensing the shift in mood, stands abruptly.

"Daniel," he says sharply. "Enough."

Daniel puts his hands up in defense. "Chill out mate, I'm just surprised he is here and I wanna cheer him up. But, Charles," he turns away from Max, "you're always welcome here. As a visitor, you know. Just to be clear," he says and ends it with his iconic, punch-worthy smile. To add another layer to Charles's pile of discomfort, he goes and puts his arm around Max, like the overly touchy friend he must be. Max does not seem to be phased by it. Charles tries not to think about how often that must happen. It's hard to control the cocktail of emotions, so adding a hint of jealousy to it is making his glass overflow. The older driver pinches the younger one's cheeks and Charles can't help but roll his eyes and shift his focus on the nearly empty glass of whiskey. One more minute of this and he is out.

To his luck, since Daniel seems to have run out of jokes to throw around, he spins on his heel and starts walking away. "I'll leave you guys to it then. Charlie, if you want, we are going out later in the evening, text me if you wanna join," he says and walks out. Charles finds it amusing to think he'd have Daniel's number saved. Once the door closes behind him, he can finally breathe again.

"Does he always talk so much?" Charles asks, wondering whether excessive talking is a requirement for Red Bull drivers.

Max snaps right back. "Only when he's awake."

Charles nods understandingly. "Must be hard for you," he mocks Daniel's tone.

Max nods back overly dramatically. "Yes. It is. Especially when the noise blocking headphones are just...not good enough."

Charles puts his head in his hand, exhaustion creeping in.

Max seems to not notice that and continues in their talk. "You really don't like him, do you?"

There is a smirk forming at Charles's lips. "And do you like him?"

Only he knows with what kind of undertone he is asking. The jealousy still present in the air. He hopes Max does not pick up on it. Or does he? It's a confusing day.

"Yeah. He's a good friend," he murmurs back, blue eyes now locked with the messy green ones. "Do you want a refill-"

Charles can't cope anymore. No more whiskey.

"Max, why are you being, so..." he interrupts him and immediately pauses, searching for the right word to define what ever he had been so doing. And since he can't find anything better suited, he inevitably ends up with: "...nice."

Out of all the things he would describe Verstappen, this was probably the last of them. Truth be told, the only reason he followed Max to his motorhome in the first place was the immortal curiosity Charles was born with. Anything that involves Max seems to draw him in. All of the arguments - which there hadn't been many these last few months - all the snarky comments and exchanges, frowned upon looks and lines shared through media...Charles knew, deep down his biggest weakness was just how much he wanted to be accepted by Max. The allure of Verstappen - Charles imagines that's how everyone feels about the Red Bull driver.

"I don't bother spending my time on thinking why I do, or say, things," he proclaims nonchalantly, providing Charles with something that feels like the key to the enigma of it all. Well, of course, that would explain hell of a lot things about this man. He stares at him, as he keeps his casual lean on the table and fiddles with his glass. There is something about that statement that Charles finds hard to believe. But he decides to keep that question for the future.

It's only now that Charles realizes he is not calm, in fact, he is the opposite of that emotion. Tense, on edge. Like before jumping off a cliff. He wasn't like that before Daniel interrupted them, only once he left them alone again. The contrast of just how much he hated Daniel's presence and if fact appreciated the lack of it starts to hit. Charles had been in different driver's room before. But, never in Max's and it was never kind of like this. Suddenly, he is hyper aware of his every move, how small this rooms feels, contrasting its actual size. The couch underneath him is too hard and the icy glass is starting to hurt his fingers. He gulps. Max has never looked so tall before.

"You're weirdly quiet. Getting calmer now?" Max asks and interrupts the thought spiral Charles fell into.

"Yeah, all calm now," he lies and almost burn holes into Max with his stare. He wants to stay in this moment forever. There is nothing pleasant waiting for him out there.

Charles winces after taking a last sip of whiskey. "You don’t even like it," Max notes, watching him. "No," Charles admits. "I hate it. It tastes like someone melted a campfire and put it in a glass." Max laughs, genuinely this time. "Then why did you take it?" "I don’t know. Peer pressure?" "Next time, just ask for a soda. You can still be mad with a Coke in hand."

Charles just nods, without needing to respond. Max takes a deep breath in and a pause, before he speaks again.

"When are you leaving Spa? Do you have time this evening?"

Charles's response would have been very different hadn't been for Daniel's invitation. "I'm not going out with you and Daniel," he says firmly.

Max rolls his lips. "So, you do have time."

There is a tingle somewhere deep inside him. An urge, curiosity and the inability to say no to Max. "I'm leaving at midnight," he replies and it sounds more like a question.

Max grants him one of the most obnoxious smiles this century has seen. "We'll just have to make sure you're back on time. Go to the hotel and pack your things in advance. Oh, and don't wear white sneakers."

//

Charles is totally normal about it. It's a perfectly acceptable reaction to pack in a time a pit stop crew would be impressed by. Cancelling a gaming session with one of the engineers he had scheduled for the evening was also a perfectly ok thing to do. The pacing around the room and nail biting until his finger tops bleed is maybe little over the top, but he is alone in the room. He's allowed to freak out.

He and Max are mere acquaintances. The definition of friends not really applying to them. It would be totally ok for him to hang out with his usual suspects, but this was new. Was Max luring him into a trap? Was he going to have him strip naked and then have his Dutch friends jump over from the bushes and laugh at him?

Charles is someone who freaks out ahead of things. He considers that to be an advantage for racing, panicking on flights rather than in the cockpit.

He unpacks and then repacks his suitcase, just so that he has something to do. Curses himself for only bringing one pair of dark blue sneakers (and white ones, of course).

He has been like this for the last hour. Waiting on Max to text him he can finally go downstairs - because he is not going to let him know that he is pacing nervously. He is not going to sit in the hotel lobby, like some loser that has nothing better to do than to wait at him.

Charles blames the headache on the crash.

The sky gets progressively darker when he start giving up on Max ever texting him. Charles is a stupid, stupid boy, for believing he was talking seriously about making plans with him.

This hotel room ceiling isn't the most interesting piece of art work, but Charles would be able to repaint it by memory by the amount of time he spends laying on the unmade bed and staring at it. There is a little crack in the left corner, slight elevation between the hallway and the bedroom and a knock on the door.

A knock on the door. His mind goes immediately to the handsome Dutch driver (not that the image of him ever left since they departed, really), but he quickly gets himself up and adjusts his expectations to reality. It's probably someone from Sauber checking on him. Or his manager with some updates, he also rarely texts before coming over.

Deep breath and he opens the door. His face is calm, but if someone took Charles's pulse, they'd probably send him straight back to the medical centre. Max is standing there, looking calm and composed as ever. Back in his casual non-team wear. If it were up to Charles, he'd finally take him shopping for some flattering clothes. This is not doing him justice at all. Thank God his face is protected from the effects of that ugly stripy t-shirt.

"Hey, man. You good to go?"

Most people would send a text—or, at worst, ask reception to make a call. The fact he must have asked for his room number (and the more alarming fact he managed to get it from them) and then came all the way up, is concerning.

Max's brows furrow. "Have you lost the ability to speak in the last two hours?"

Charles slaps himself mentally. "Funny. Hello to you too."

A totally concerned-free smile spreads on Max's cheek and he walks past him to his room. "Let's grab your bag and get going, we're on a schedule."

Before he has time to blink, he is standing in a hotel elevator and Max Verstappen is carrying his bag.

//

There is the usual crowd of people mingling around the hotel - crew members, reporters, some overly excited fans. Charles tries to hide as Max leads them through shortcuts, this place obviously being his playground. Charles manages to relax himself a bit when he realizes nobody probably managed to get a picture of them walking together. Another miracle of the day. 

The sports car, older model, but obviously worked on, growls to life as Max turns the key. The engine’s rumble reverberating through Charles’s chest. He sits stiffly in the passenger seat, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the seat.

There is an old school smell of a cheap gas station car scent that punches through his nose. Max seems to be extremely comfortable in the car, as if he’s had it for years. 

Without much of a conversation, they depart. The car smoothly jolts forward, tires screeching slightly as Max accelerates out of the hotel parking lot. Talk about subtle. Charles is sure the sounds of this vehicle must have had half of the heads turn. The streets of Spa blur past them, the small town lights quickly giving way to the empty countryside roads. They drive on roads between fields, sometimes pass a small lump of forest. Max is treating the road as an old partner, smooth sailing - but definitely on the edgy side of things. If Charles hadn’t known Max as a Formula 1 driver, he’s think he was some small town tuning guy. 

"You drive like this on the track too?" Charles mutters after minutes of silence, trying to sound casual.

Max grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "No, I’m much faster on the track,“ he says as he hits the top of the hill a little too fast and sends them nearly flying before they land back on the road. He laughs and it is in that moment when Charles realizes that THE Max Verstappen is just another car guy. 

The countryside passes them by and Charles has to admit there is some sort of magic to it. It’s different than the roads around Monaco, more rustic and northern. Less glam and more roughness. Had he grown up here, he’d probably spend his teenage years cruising through. 

„Did you used to drive here a lot when you were young?“ He asks, head lots in his own thoughts. 

Max does not reply immediately, but then he goes onto explaining that yes, he has driven through every road this place is surrounded by. As early as when he was fourteen. Charles rolls his eyes and makes few comments on the incompetence of the local police. 

//

„Is there a specific place we’re going to?“ Charles asks after what feels like thirty minutes of driving, glancing nervously at the dense trees closing in around them. He is not checking the time, his trust lies with Max on that.

"You’ll see," Max replies, his tone maddeningly cryptic and sends the car into another turn in a way that would have then crash had there been any car in the opposite lane. Charles is not bothered by Max's driving, he knows he is more than capable of judging the situation. Had the driver been anyone else, he'd be out of the car after the first turn. His faith lies in the fact Max probably does not want both of them dead.

"Great," Charles mutters. "This is how horror movies start, you know."

Max chuckles, flicking the headlights to high beam as they zip down a narrow country road. "Relax, Leclerc. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it on the track. More fun."

Charles throws him a glare. "Very comforting. Thanks."

Max doesn’t respond immediately, his focus sharp as he takes a turn far faster than Charles would.

"You’re tense," Max remarks, barely hiding the amusement in his voice.

"Oui, I wonder why," Charles shoots back with lips turned upwards. It's a different kind of adrenaline, to completely give in and follow his lead.

Max glances at him briefly, his smirk widening. "You don’t trust me?"

"I trust you to try and scare the shit out of me, yes," Charles remarks.

"Good. Keeps things exciting."

Charles tries not to wonders what exactly "things" means in this scenario. He notices that he left all of the worries and stress of today back at the hotel. It feels like they'd been on the road for days, in the good way. Time works in funny ways.

//

The road grows narrower, the trees taller and denser. They block nearly all of the remaining sunlight. Charles realizes he hasn’t seen another car, or even a house, for several minutes.

"Seriously, Max. Is there a destination we're going to?" His tone is sharper now, just a hint of panic in it.

"You ask too many questions," Max replies smoothly, his hands steady on the wheel.

"Forgive me for being curious when you’re driving me into the middle of nowhere," Charles says, his voice rising slightly, tone set on teasing mode. He hasn't noticed, but he is scrunched in the seat, leaning on the door and completely comfortable, despite the potential death threat of this all.

Max chuckles again, clearly enjoying himself. "Are you always this dramatiqué?" he mocks his accent.

Charles turns to him, exasperated. "Dramatic? You’ve practically kidnapped me. It is what it is, I have to face the situation. I am ready to cooperate. Should I start preparing a ransom note? "

Max tilts his head thoughtfully, his smile teasing. "Who would pay for you, Leclerc?"

"Funny," Charles deadpans, though his heart skips at the flirtatious edge to Max’s tone.

He leans over to examine the dashboard. "At least we have enough fuel to last us long."

Max looks in the same direction and bites his lip.

"What?" Charles asks, double checking if he hadn't read it wrong.

"Yeah, that thing has been stuck like this for years."

Charles lets out a loud breath. "Putain, Max."

//

Max finally parks the car as they reach something resembling a gate and a fence (he, of course, does not park like a normal person, but drifts the car in - Charles is not even surprised at this point).

"We're here," he announces and kills the engine.

Charles examines the creepy surroundings and sighs.

"What's up with you now?" the cheery Dutchman asks him.

"I'm trying to pick which God to pray to."

He hits his arm playfully. "Come on, enough with the drama, you're gonna like this," he says convincingly and gets out of the car. Charles has no intention of not following him, his blood flowing in the opposite direction than usual. Or at least that's how it feels.

He walks few steps behind him and takes in the scenery. The damp grass, leaves and small stick crunch below their feet. A distinctive humid forest smell is something he hadn't felt in forever and it's surprisingly refreshing to take a deep breath. He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his jacket, trying to fight the chilly air. Max appears to be unaffected by any of it and walks with intention. He passes the small cottage, which looks like it needed a renovation twenty years ago. Charles was expecting that to be the their final destination, so when Max walks by it, he nearly trips on wet leafs, trying to follow his direction. He hopes it went unnoticed.

It all starts to make a bit more sense when they pass the first two cars, parked in a place where normal people would plant a tree. He starts to realize this must be some sort lair of the Verstappen family or their close friends. The further deep they go into the forest / garden, the more car parts, tires and general junk they pass. Charles has many questions, but the anticipation of what is that Max actually wants to show him stops words in his throat.

Right on cue, Max starts speaking on his own, gradually slowing his steps. "My dad and I would come here in between races and we'd fix old cars together. It's a good place to test parts and repair karts. But it's become so messy over the years," he comments as he has to kick a random door frame blocking their way. "One day I'll come over for few weeks and clean it all up. He's never going to do that on his own."

The intimacy of this information is something Charles wasn't ready. He keeps his silence, sensing Max does not need a reaction anyway.

"But, there is a plus side to this being currently a shit hole," he stops and turns around to face Charles, who mimics his move. Even in this dim low light, Max's eyes shine like something out of this planet. "We can fuck some shit up," he grins like a little kid he was just few years and hands Charles an obscurely massive hammer that he picked up somewhere along the way.

Charles gives him a questioning look, before slowly accepting this strange object. Max's grin does not leave his face.

Charles stares at the hammer in his hands, its weight unfamiliar but oddly grounding. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Max gestures ahead, and Charles’s eyes follow to where an old, rusted Volvo car sits under a drooping tree. The windshield is cracked, the paint flaking off like dead skin.

"Whatever you want," Max says casually, leaning against a nearby pile of tires. "But I’d start with the windshield."

Charles’s jaw drops slightly. "You want me to, what? Smash it?"

Max nods, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "It’s therapeutic. Trust me."

"Max, this is ridiculous."

They stare at each other and Charles feels guilty all of a sudden, for dismissing his idea so bluntly. He sighs as he faces second instance of peer pressure from the other driver within the span of few hours. He wonders which choice exactly he made this morning that steered his day in such a different direction. Had someone told him he'd be smashing cars with Verstappen in the evening, he'd laugh in their face.

"Just try it. One hit. I won’t tell anyone."

Charles hesitates, his grip tightening around the hammer’s handle. The thought of swinging it, of letting loose, feels... disturbing. But then again, everything about this day has been weird. Maybe that’s the point. Max babbles along, as he always does once he starts, something about getting all the emotions out.

Charles ignores the rest of his speech and tries to imagine this is just like any other sport, be it tennis, golf or anything that involved swinging. He takes a deep breath, picks up the inexplicably heavy hammer and swings it against the windshield. The material is surprisingly sturdy and the hammer bounces back, driving the force into Charles's body, as if to mock him. This pisses him off, he can't have Max laughing at him and calling him a "pussy". He tightens his lips, adjusts his stance and swings once again.

Finally, a crack appears at the point of impact, the quiet sound of breaking multiplied by the silence of the forrest. This is followed by a muffled cheer behind him. Charles is still surprised at how much force he needs to use to actually make any damage on the old plastic laced glass and it rilles him up. He is not going to walk away from here being beaten by a windshield older than him. He swings again.

And again, again and again. Each impact comes with bigger force until the glass start to crumble apart. He does not feel cold anymore, the old fire he barely tamed this afternoon fully back up.

Marcus. Alonso. Stupid lawyers making things too complicated. The reporters. Sauber. Ferarri. Ferrari. Ferrari.

The pieces are not only crumbling, but now they're falling in every directions - and Charles feels alive. Ferrari. He moves a bit to smash every little part that still survived in the corner. Ferrari. The structure of the windshield is completely falling apart. Ferrari. He smashes the big pieces that are pathetically lying on the ground, mushing them down into nothing. He lefts out a heavy breath. Ferrari.

I will be a Ferrari driver next season.

Only when he lets go, no more damage left to be done on his victim, he realizes he said those words out loud. He is met with a curious stare of Max Verstappen. Charles slipped up when he wasn't suppose to. It's been brewing in him for weeks now. Only his managers know. He figures not even Sauber knows.

"Nothing is final yet. It could still fall to shit," he clarifies, staring at Max with anticipation.

Max shifts his weight from one leg to another and blinks few times. "Nice. I hope it works out for you."

Charles is careful now, coming down his high, facing the consequences. "Please, don't tell anyone," he almost pleas, worried that this info getting out might somehow sabotage the whole mission.

The mood changes. Surely, he must feel it too. This is no longer "two bros smashing shit together". Oh God, please, does he notice the way the air stopped moving? Is his mouth also dry? His skin fired up with unholy electricity? Max as unreadable as ever. It's making Charles's brain spin. He would give everything, almost anything, for a quick glimpse into the brain of the enigmatic guy standing in front of him.

He isn't a teenager anymore, but Charles knows the boy is not fully a grown up yet. His features are a mixture of the hard lines and angles of and adult athlete, but all of that is still combined with youthful - Charles would dare to say naive - softness. It must be something in the damp air. Maybe he is suffering from fresh air reverse-toxic shock. His lungs so used to the painful unnatural environment of a racetrack, that it only takes few minutes in the forest to make him feel dizzy. He has to draw his gaze away for a moment. Deep down he knows he's going to appear as a creep, eyeing his rival, with an open mouth. If he could, he'd choke on the words Max's says and drown in his eyes for hours. But, that is not normal. Max is just few centrimeters taller than him, but it feels like he is towering over him. Charles's main concern should be that he had just revealed a precious information to the competition. He has to actively remind himself what the objective is - and that it does not have anything to do with just how long Max's eye lashes are.

"You know I wouldn't tell anyone," Max says, momentarily kicking Charles out of his haze.

He stands still, frozen and barely reacts to the smile Max sends his way. Once again, it's like Max is drinking a third brew of the same tea Charles is having - the smirking boy unaffected by the bitterness.

He takes two steps closer to Charles. "My turn now," he whispers and reaches for the hammer Charles forgot he was holding. Max passes him by and the Monegasque stays still for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling of Max's fingers lightly brushing his own.

//

The trip back is like a negative photo, contrasting the brightly colored banter they shared when they were driving in the opposite way. The car is quiet, so quiet in fact Charles's in praying for Max's stereo to work. It does and now their drive is accompanied by some bad radio station, speaking in a language he does not understand. Like a third passanger in the car, laughing Charles directly into his face. You don't even understand the radio. How can you believe you'll ever understand what you feel right now.

Darkness has fallen some time ago and it's the first time Charles actually whips out his phone, to check the time and his messages, but mainly to distract himself and avoid looking at Max. Because suddenly, the Dutch boy is too close. He doesn't know why, but it's like Max has found a way how to make it physically impossible to be in his presence - yet this car, with Max in the driver's seat, is also the only place on the planet where Charles wants to be. There is comfort and excitement. Comforting excitement. Charles must be going crazy, he thinks and ignores all messages on his phone and reverts back to watching the dark countryside.

"Text your team that you'll arrive directly to the airport," he hears a pragmatic order from the driver's seat. Charles dares to look at him, but his eyes are glued on the road. He obeys without a comment. The realizations only hits him at that moment. Max has probably ditched way more people than he himself did, in order to go on this ride into nothingness. There are probably people waiting at him at several bars, his motorhome and few volunteers lined up to follow him to his hotel room. And yet, there he is, sitting next to him, driving on nameless roads.

"Did you have good time with me?" he asks, like the anxious boy he is. It's not a brave question, it's full of unspoken uncertainty and a worry, that Max had hoped for him to be a more entertaining company. Is that why he doesn't speak as much as he did on the way here?

Charles knows the way to doom is to push Max Verstappen. That boy won't do a single thing he does not believe in, unless the contract under he is makes it impossible. He hopes he is not pushing right now.

"You know this is the first time you've looked at me since we left the cabin?" the Dutch proclaims, ignoring his original question. And he is right, Charles is hyperaware of that.

Charles lets out a short laugh, the kind that’s more exhale than sound. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Max’s lips roll into a grin as his eyes flick back to the road. "I’ve heard that before. But I think you like it."

"Don’t flatter yourself." Charles rolls his eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it. 

"Too late," Max fires back smoothly, his grin widening. "Besides, you’re the one who agreed to smash my old car. What does that say about you?"

Charles straightens up, almost offended. "I did not-"

He is quickly interrupted by the Dutch. "You did not what - you didn't smash my car? Is that what you're saying?" He is clearly amused with himself and to prove that he playfully smashes the steering wheel.

Charles is silent, inhaling so much air to calm himself down he might actually explode. Impossible, this man was sent from hell to torment him.

"And didn’t that feel good?" Max continues smoothly, his voice dripping with chilli honey. Sweet, but punching.

Charles doesn’t answer, which only makes Max’s eyes widen.

"Aha! You did like it," Max says triumphantly.

Charles huffs, crossing his arms. "I never said that."

"You didn’t have to." Max’s tone is smug, his confidence infuriatingly unshakable. "Admit it. You enjoyed smashing something for once instead of, I don’t know, smiling politely and saying merci."

Charles snorts. "You think I’m polite?"

"Painfully," Max replies, his tone still teasing but just sharp enough to make Charles sit up straighter. "Like you’re afraid to let people know what you’re really thinking."

"And what are you thinking, Mr. Painfully Blunt?" he says more like a joke and does not expect and answer.

To prove Charles wrong, once again, Max turns slowly to face him. He makes sure each word he says has enough time to ripe. "That it's obvious I had a good time with you, Leclerc."

It's the same as trying to ignore a deafening sound. Even if you block your ears, it still pierces through. It creeps up into your chest in waves invisible to the naked human eye. A loud beat that makes your chest alive and your throat stuck - because whatever you might say, it won't be heard over the noise anyway. It does not need addressing, but it's impossible to disregard.

If I slip up, even for a moment, it might ruin everything we’ve both worked so hard to pretend doesn’t matter.

To completely counter anything he is trying to suppress, Max casually puts him hand on Charles's thigh - on Charles's thigh. The part of the human body between the knee and the hip. It's a true test to stay normal about it.

"Don't get lost in your head again, Charles," he says ever-so-casually and removes his hand to put it back on the steering wheel.

If they were to crash and die right now, Charles probably wouldn't mind. He's about to have a heart attack anyway.

//

It was getting more than clear they were reaching the final destination, even if only by the decreasing amount of trees growing next to the road. City lights and signs pointing to the airport giving away that this trip is about to end.

If Charles started this afternoon angry, he is ending it confused - about himself, about what kind of person Max Verstappen actually is and how is he suppose to go about his life after this. It's not a new information to him that he likes guys. But it is the first time he has to face having a tiny, minor, minuscule crush on another driver.

As they near the airport so much he can see the small plane he is about to board with the closest of his team, Charles speaks again.

"Maybe drop me of one street away...Just so that people don't have questions."

It's a pragmatic suggestion and he hopes Max does not read anything into it.

"Fair," is the response he gets and is somewhat satisfied with.

This time, Charles braces himself for another "drift park", but is met with a casual and very precise parking on Max's part.

They sit in silence for a moment. Charles wants to do something, but he can't put a name on it.

"Well, it's been fun. Thanks," he says almost coldly and pulls the thirty years old door handle.

Nothing.

Next to him, there is a chuckling noise. Charles tries again, but the only effect this has in the increase of volume on Max's laugh.

Fine, two can play this game, he figures and turns to him with a raised brow.

Charles meets his gaze for a long moment, the weight of the playful challenge hanging between them. "You know," he says finally, his voice low, "I could just climb out through the window."

Max snorts, leaning back and pressing the unlock button with a flourish. "Be my guest. The the dramatic diva you are.“

"You use that word a lot, you know?"

Max keeps his act on. "I think it's time to leave now," he teases and does absolutely nothing in order to open the car.

Charles leans back, also not intending on moving. There is warmth in his chest and it's spreading all over his body. The smile he has on his face is one he can't prevent.

"Is it now," he questions, and tries to open the door once again, this time without even looking at the handle. None of them expecting any other result.

After few shared looks, Max clicks some random button on his side of the car to unlock the doors. The soft click feels like a challenge. 

Charles lingers, his hand resting on the handle but not pulling it. "You know, for someone who claims not to care, you sure put a lot of effort into keeping me around."

Max raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly lopsided. "You noticed?"

"I’m not blind," Charles replies, leaning back into the seat, a flicker of playfulness in his expression.

Max looks at him for a moment, something sparkly in his gaze before he nods toward the door. "You better go before I change my mind."

He tries opening the door once again and this time it really does.

Charles moves back and exists the car, pit in his stomach growing. He has to wait few seconds for Max to get and open the trunk with his keys. Illuminated only with the back lights, red mixing with yellow, he moves automatically, never letting Charles go off his sight. He hands him his bag and receives a little "Such a gentleman," comment from Charles. And then they keep standing there, as if Medusa herself turned them into a stone.

Charles feels possessed. Like he’s not in control of his movements anymore. He lost that ability somewhere in the woods. 

He is pretty sure he’s shaking from the panic that drives him.  His body is floating two meters above the ground. 

Max’s eyes burn into him, as if it was all a dare. 

The boy is standing too close for his own good. 

Charles is pretty sure there is acid running through his veins.  He knows, he is absolutely certain, he will regret whatever he is about to do. 

There will be no going back. 

Should I touch him, it will the perfect way to ruin this newly found friendship.

Max does not move or walk away. 

Fuck it, he thinks and slams his lips again Max’s.  Knock the wind out of me, Max Verstappen. 

It is quick as a lighting, but bright as such. He reaches over to the back of Max’s head and holds him still, but giving him enough freedom to pull away. I’m begging you, please don’t. 

It’s cathartic to know what his plump lips feel like against his own. He holds his lower lip between his own and moves, once or twice. He knows his time is running out. For a moment, he allows himself to drown in this real life fantasy. Max’s lips are soft and addictive. It’s like running a marathon is the time you would do a sprint. 

He fights the urge to continue and moves back. Knowing this one moment, lasting only few seconds will be locked in his fantasies forever. 

He pulls away and tries to avoid looking at Max’s face, knowing well enough that whatever he finds there, won’t be pleasant. 

„I’m sorry,“ he murmurs and almost runs away to the airport. 

Festival of shame is about to begin, but the insides of his body still burn with excitement and desire. He kissed Max Verstappen and he didn’t pull away immediately. 

Their first and only kiss. 

It was a mistake, one that Charles will have to apologize many times. 

But he’ll be happy to die for. Feeling this alive should be illegal.

He does not look back. His bravery ran out the moment he put their lips together. 

Oh, God.  I’m stupid, I’m stupid, stupid, stupid.

[akumaparker]

Color Me Pink -Nishimura Riki

Summary: you and Riki are childhood friends. But when Riki is approached by a guy at school asking about you, unexpected feelings rise to the surface.

Content: mild swearing, jealous!Riki, he's oblivious to his own feelings, feat. 02s

Work count: 1.4k (sorry)

Author's note: hihi! This is my first enha fic! I haven't written in a while and I also wrote this at 1 am so I'm sorry if it's bad 🙏 anyways thanks for reading byeee

Rain beat against the window of the history classroom, and Riki was watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window pane. Mr. Lewis was droning on about some war or something or other, he wasn’t quite sure. History was never his strongest subject.

He turned to you, nudging your shoulder.

“Do you want to go to the arcade after school today? I need to get enough tickets to collect that limited edition Pokémon figure.”

You turned to him, nodding.

He grinned, and returned to his grueling task of betting which raindrop would win the race.

The bell rang signaling the end of another boring lecture.

Riki grabbed your hand, dragging you out of your seat.

“Come on!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm, and Riki grinned. He loved it when you laughed like that. And he loved that he was the only one who really got to see it.

The neon lights and the robotic sounds of the arcade games radiated around the enclosed space. Kids ran from machine to machine, as tired parents chased after them, piles of tickets and sodas in hand. A group of teenagers were playing a car racing game, and the smell of greasy cheese pizza floated in the air.

Riki raced over to his favorite game- Dance Dance Revolution. He was pretty good at this game, if he said so himself. He put the tokens in, and selected his favorite song to play- Replay by Shinee.

He began to follow along, flawlessly hitting each step.

You watched him from afar, sipping your soda.

His face was contorted in focus, sweat dripping down his black hair.

Riki finished the game, and turned to look for you.

You waved to him, and he hurried over.

“Y/N! I finally have enough tickets!” He jumped up and down while hugging you, which caused you to laugh.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back after I exchange these tickets!”

He approached the counter with prizes, his eye on the best prize of all- a limited edition Pokémon figurine that he had been trying to get for months.

Behind the counter was someone he recognized from school. Kai, he thought his name was.

“Hey Riki.”

“Hey Kai! I’ll take the limited-edition Pikachu figurine please”, he said, slapping down the pile of tickets on the counter.

“You got it.”

Kai turned to the wall behind him, and grabbed the figurine.

“Here you go. Hey, by the way, you’re friends with Y/N, right?”

Riki was confused by his question but nodded in response.

Kai blushed, a hand creeping to itch the back of his neck.

“Do you think you could introduce me? I’ve had a crush on her for the longest time, but I don’t know how to approach her.”

Riki felt his stomach churn a little, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the questionable hot dog he ate earlier from that street vendor.

“Uh... sure. How about you sit with us at lunch tomorrow and I’ll introduce you?”

Kai let out a relieved breath.

“Thanks so much. I owe you one.”

As he walked away, Riki was apprehensive about introducing you to Kai. What if he was a bad person? What if he only wanted to use you? He would have to keep a close eye on him.

The next day at school, Riki kept his promise. He found Kai in the lunch line, and brought him over to where you were sitting.

“Everyone, this is Kai. He’s going to join us for lunch today.”

A chorus of hellos echoed around the table.

Kai sat next to you.

“Hi.”

“Hi. We have English together, right?”

“Right!”

Riki watched as the two of you engaged in an animated conversation. You laughed, one of those genuine laughs that only he got to see. What could Kai be saying that’s so funny? He’s way funnier than that guy.

He was broken out of his trance by Jake, who tapped his shoulder.

“Dude, you’re going to burn holes in Kai’s face from your staring.”

Riki scoffed, “I am not staring.”

“Uh-huh...sure.”

“I’m not. I’m just...curious as to what he’s saying that could be that funny.”

Jake gave him a knowing look before returning to his sandwich.

The time for history class came around again, and Riki was utterly bored out of his mind.

Nudging your shoulder, he passed you a little note.

Do you want to do a movie night with the guys tonight?

He watched as you scribbled a response with your blue fountain pen.

I can’t, I’m going to see a movie with Kai tonight :( Maybe another time?

He nodded, and you gave him an apologetic look before returning your attention to the lecture.

Riki was disappointed. You always went to movie night, and now you’re suddenly bailing? For this guy you just met earlier?

He rested his hand in his palm, resuming his intense daydreaming session.

There he was, at Jay’s house, a bucket of buttery popcorn in hand, and his favorite movie playing, but he couldn’t focus. His attention kept drifting to you- what were you doing? Were you laughing at something Kai said? Were you dressed in that pretty floral dress you looked so pretty in?

Riki felt a discomforting pain in his chest that he couldn’t quite place. Jealousy, maybe? It was probably just because he had been single for so long, that he was jealous of your love life. Yeah, that was it.

Sighing, Jake grabbed the remote, pausing the movie.

“Hello? Earth to Riki?” He waved his hand in front of his face to break his trance.

“Hmm? What?”

“You’ve been distracted all night”, Jay said. “Do you want to watch something else?”

Riki shook his head, “No I like this movie.”

“Then why aren’t you watching it? Is it because Y/N is with Kai? On a date?”, Sunghoon asked.

Riki opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated.

Jake gasped.

“It is, isn’t it. You’re jealous!”

Riki let out an awkward chuckle, “No of course not! I’m just... worried about her.”

Riki looked down at his hands as he said it.

The older boys shared a knowing look, but decided not to press him further on it.

Riki pulled out his phone, clicking on your messages.

R u done with the movie yet?

He tried to refocus on watching the movie, and he eventually fell asleep.

The next day, you still hadn’t responded to his message.

He texted you again to ask if you wanted to hang out, but you said that you couldn’t- you were studying with Kai.

Red-hot anger bubbled inside him.

You were his best friend.

Suddenly you don’t have time for him now that another guy came into the picture?

The next day, Sunday, was your usual arcade day, but you bailed on that too, saying you had too much homework this weekend and Kai was helping you with a history project.

All of Monday, Riki decided to ignore you. See how shitty it felt.

After the last class of the day, he hurried out the main entrance of the school.

“Riki! Riki! I know you can hear me!”

You were calling after him, but he kept walking away.

He made it all the way to his house before he felt a hand grab his own.

He turned to see your panting figure looking at him with pleading eyes.

You dropped his hand before asking, “Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Riki rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Kai, isn’t he your boyfriend now or something?”

You were shocked at what he said.

“No, why would you think that?”

Riki let out a frustrated groan, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’ve ditched me all weekend to go hang out with him?”

Now it was your turn to be mad.

“Are you serious, Riki? I didn’t spend one weekend with you and you’re mad at me?”

“Yeah. You know how important our arcade days are to me, and you bailed on me for that stupid guy! I don’t want to be your friend if you keep seeing him, because clearly, he’s more important than our friendship!”

Riki turned on his heel and stormed off.

You scoffed, and followed him inside his house.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can hang out with Riki!”

Riki slammed the door shut behind him, setting his bag down by the shoe rack in the hallway, before he turned to face you.

“Yes, I do!”

“Why, why do you care so much?”

“You’re my best friend, that’s why!”

You dejectedly sighed, running a hand through your hair.

There was a beat of silence before Riki spoke again.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your new boyfriend? Don’t waste your time here with me.”

“What is so wrong with me hanging out with him? Is it so hard to believe someone might actually think I’m attractive, or want to go out with me? Is that it? Cause that’s what it fucking feels like you’re saying, Riki.”

“No, of course not! I just... I just-”

“Just what Riki?”

“I’m in love with you okay! I’ve been in love with you for my whole life and I was stupid to not realize it until now."

His voice softened as he continued.

"I love the way you laugh, and the way you eat the head off the gummy bears first. I love everything about you.”

There was a silence as you processed his words.

“Y/N.. please say something.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

With that, you walked towards him before placing your lips on his. Your hands found their way to his neck, as one of his hands cupped your cheek.

The kiss was slow, but electric. He gently kissed you, all of his love pouring out into this one moment.

You pulled away slowly, blushing.

Riki cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So... does this mean that you feel the same?”

You let out a giggle before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“You’re such a dumbass. Yes, Riki. I love you too.”

Riki grinned from ear to ear, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

You were lost in the kiss, when you heard someone clear their throat.

The two of you broke the kiss, pulling apart quickly.

Jake, Jay and Sunghoon were standing in the entryway of the kitchen,a smug, satisfied look on their faces.

They exchanged looks before Jake exclaimed, “Fucking finally!”

[badassbutterfly1987]

Black Sun Rising Ch. 16-18

Chapter 16:

not much here. Tarrant charms a xandu into being his steed after leaving Briand and Damien's group

the xandu gets more description in chapter 18 but for this one I just wrote down "weird alien horse-elk" which I don't think is too far off

Chapter 17:

the gang's on their way to the next day and everyone's distracted because of the hot vampire passing by. Senzei is curious enough to use a Working to see where Tarrant is. He finds his tracks, notice there's something spooky about them, and then where they mysteriously vanish (I'm also curious how that worked). Ciani theorizes that Tarrant isn't human but something masquerading as human, caused that teen boy's sickness, and has been playing a cruel game with them (while not fully accurate here, a villain pretending to be a mundane guy and 'helping' with a problem they caused as part of a game makes for a fun dynamic). Instead of trying to hunt down Tarrant they decide to head straight on to Kale

a new type of Work is introduced called a Sharing in which a fae user creates a mental link between themself and another to share the experience of a Working.

I am only a little ashamed that my first thought was how certain characters might incorporate this into sex because you know some adepts/sorcerors would be the exact kind of kinky to try. On a more serious note I suspect at least one Sharing will occur between Tarrant and Damien.

while Senzei is my least liked of the lead characters so far, I do think he's compelling. he's fascinated by the fae but doesn't have the natural gift for it that an Adept does. he's hungry for power and knowledge but it's sympathetic and he seems a decent fellow otherwise. Feels like a typical Greek tragic flaw which doesn't spell good tidings for his narrative.

a small thing I like is that there's not much friction between Damien and Senzei. Sure they're both stressed about the situation and Senzei seemed a little irritated about the Damien/Ciani thing but the author could so easily have gone "Senzei is in love with Ciani and is the petty jealous rival to Damien". But instead things remain pretty steady, Senzei is even a little comforting about Damien's anger and guilt about maybe being tricked into letting that teen boy in Briand die.

i do maintain that Damien's guilt would be more emotionally effective had Damien been the one to perform the magic euthanasia. Bystander guilt is awful but to be tricked into murder would be especially devastating to someone like Damien.

Chapter 18:

I think we get our first official sighting of Hesseth the Cat Lady. A little disappointed that she seems to be the small slender catgirl instead of the big buff catgirl I was hoping for. I'm sure she's a badass either way.

i did roll my eyes at the bit where the description took a detour to inform us that she did in fact have nice small breasts apparent even under the thick clothes. i'm not against the description of her chest size but i feel like it couldn't been integrated smoother. extra irksome that we get that before her name or personality.

I'm picturing the xandu as a slender fluffy reindeer with rainbow-colored horns. Is there official art for this funky creature?

[moeblob]

Right and his work menaces (Brent and Karen).

I don't remember last I mentioned it but apart from crude nicknames to people (except Chris), he also just puts them in his phone really weird (except Chris, who is literally in his phone as Chris). And I bring this up because in Right's phone, Karen is saved as "Lawful Obligation".

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Trying out that "no buy 2025" I've seen people talking about and recalling how much I saved in november after the hurricane blew up my car and starting to feel confident

[kirnet]

Every day the 2 hour valkyria chronicles video essay in my brain tries to claw out of my ear and every day I have to push it back in