#okay. to be clear there were a lot of authors in there that i've been meaning to read for a while and just haven't gotten around to it yet.

[fanficimagery]

Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

[captainreecejames]

"You Can Call Her Phone" series (Lando's Version)

author's note : so I'm thinking if you guys like this I can do it with other drivers (only Oscar, Logan, Alex, Yuki, Liam, Pierre, and Carlos), but you'll have to give me the idea of why they're answering in the first place. I've got a George one lined up next so stay tuned for that.

pairing : Lando Norris x fem!reader

warnings : once again a lot of cursing and shitty men, not proof read

word count : 627

The walk home had been quick, because you refused to have this argument in the middle of the Monaco streets where anybody could hear or see. The crowd at the club had been embarrassing enough. So as soon as you got inside, Lando was ready to defend himself.

“He called you his bitch, babe! I wasn’t going to sit there and let him call you those things!” He was fuming, mostly at the aforementioned man, but there was no one else there to listen to him. 

“And then you basically called me your personal stripper, Lando!” He opened his mouth to talk, but you kept going. “That was so inappropriate and uncalled for. I just can’t even believe you would say something like that.”

He understood where you were coming from, honestly. But Jack had been making eyes at you the whole night without you being aware, and when you went to dance with some friends, he started making lewd that got under his skin. It wasn’t a surprise that Lando had snapped. “He started way before the bitch comment, babe. Okay, and i just couldn’t sit there anymore and take it. He needed to know-“

The phone ringing cut him off and he looked at the screen in your hand.

Jack.

“Is he really fucking calling you after all that?” Lando’s eyes had darkened. “Give me the phone.” You listened, handing him the phone with a resigned look on your face. “What the fuck do you want?” Lando asked him, voice steady with an anger you hadn’t head in a while. “No I’m not gonna give her the fucking phone, you ripe shithead. After the way you spoke about her and to her face, you’re lucky you’re even in the city right now. Because if I had my way, I’d have your ass sent to a fucking tundra where you can’t ever be warm again.” You heard yelling from the other line, but none of it was clear enough for you to make out what he was saying. “I will get a fucking restraining order on you and your goddamn dog if I ever hear that you come near us again, got it?” More yelling came from the other line, but Lando didn’t wait for him to finish, hitting the red end call button.

“You done?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to return your phone.

“One second, I’m blocking him on everything so he can’t talk to you again.”

“And if he makes a second account?”

“I’ll fucking call up Mark Zuckerberg and get him banned from making any social media again.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” He rose an eyebrow at you, but you made no move to grab your phone from him. With a sigh, you dropped your hand and stepped closer to him, pushing your phone away so he would look at you. “Seriously Lan, I want you to know that I’m not okay with what you said tonight at the club. It was one, out of line; and two, none of their business.” That got him to smirk, moving his hands to your waist to pull you flush against him.

“I know baby, I was out of line when I said that to him. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my words.” He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him, content with the apology for now. “But just so we’re on the same page, you’re my private dancer?”

You moved to hit his chest, but he caught it first, bringing your hand up to his mouth for a light peck. When you didn’t answer, he licked your hand and you shrieked. “That’s gross, Lando!” But the smile on your face told him that everything was okay for now.

[livwritessometimes]

Can you please do a part 2 to “a footnote will do (for me)” with Charles Leclerc?

Perhaps, something like this: She moves on with someone else (one date), and he sees them, gets jealous and chases her. Apologising and grovelling all the way till they make up?

I loved that fix but it was heartbreaking

If The World Was Ending

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here you go! Hope this heals the heartbreak from part 1 :)

...

I was distracted And in traffic I didn't feel it When the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' Were you out drinkin'? Were you in the living room Chillin' watchin' television

It's funny how life works—why is it that when you're in a rush, you find yourself stuck in endless traffic. Charles let out a sigh; he was exhausted. The past few months had not been the best for him. The season was finally over; he should have been out there relaxing but all Charles could think about was how they lost the constructor's championship. He knows it's not his fault—not entirely, at least—but he couldn't help letting his mind wander. Things had been good for a while; the constant hustle bustle had made his life better. The calm now left him with too much time on his hands to think. It had left him with time to think about his brother's engagement. He still remembers how happy he was the day he got the call from Enzo. It gave him time to think about Arthur—how he got to race with his little brother by his side. That memory brought a smile to Charles' face. It also gave him time to think about Alex; his Alex. Before he could think of anything else, Charles was brought back into reality by his phone ringing. It was her.

"Hey, I was just think-" Charles said before he got cut off by Alex.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice a little panicky.

"What-ya of course, why?" He questioned, confused by her sudden panic.

"We just had an earthquake, did you not feel it?" She questioned.

"Oh...no not really. I'm stuck in traffic, i didn't feel much," Charles answered.

"Oh good! Alright, I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked.

"Ya, I'll be there in 15, hopefully," Charles said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Charles looked out of the window once again, waiting for the traffic to clear up. As he waited, his mind went to one person—someone who had been on his mind for a while now. He knows he shouldn't think about her, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend—or at least that's what he assumes based on what Arthur had said. Charles had no business thinking about Y/n. It was his fault they drifted apart. Had he not completely ignored Y/n after her confession, they would still be in touch like they used to be, instead of become strangers who only see each other now at big celebrations.

Finally free from the traffic, Charles made his way towards his house. It was a Friday, which got him thinking: Was she out drinking? He wondered if Y/n felt the earthquake. Or was she at home, chilling and watching television with her new boyfriend? As much as he did not want to admit, the thought of that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Which was weird, because Charles was clearly happy with Alex. Why would the though of Y/n being happy with someone else hurt his heart? Not wanting to think further about this, Charles finally got out of his car and headed towards his apartment, to his girlfriend and dog waiting for his arrival.

It's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to let you go and let communication die out

Life was different now for Y/n. She had different goals, and different priorities. It's funny how so much can change in the span of a few months. Y/n had moved to a different house, one that was closer to her best friend, Arthur. She liked this house a lot better than her last; good lighting, a great neighborhood, and living super close to your closest friend—what more could she ask for? However, the real reason why Y/n liked this house so much was that it was in a location far away from him. She wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him every time she'd make a grocery run or go to her favourite coffee shop. Things had been good. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. It's weird how quickly you can go from talking everyday to barely seeing each other at all these days. Y/n preferred it this way. It honestly felt like a year had passed since she'd last seen Charles' face in person. Of course she still saw him on TV, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n even started seeing someone, all thanks to Arthur. This guy was good and clearly into her. It felt nice to finally be wanted. After chasing something for so long with no result, it was refreshing to feel wanted. Y/n figured that if she gave this guy a chance, maybe that would be her ticket to forgetting about Charles. And so far, it had worked. Y/n finally felt like she could move past what had happened between her and Charles. She had finally figured out how to let him go.

I know, you know, we know, You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

Y/n stood in the kitchen, helping out Arthur's girlfriend with the snacks. It had been Arthur's idea to host a game night after watching a couple of reels about college kids hosting annual game night. 'I'm starting a family tradition,' is what he'd said when he invited Y/n and her boyfriend to his house. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she looked at the man in question, laughing at something Y/n's boyfriend had said. Slowly, she trailed her eyes to the left towards, the older Leclerc, only to find him already looking at her. Y/n quickly turned her head and focused on what Jade was talking about. Even though she had moved on, seeing him still felt strange. Every time she looked at Charles, she saw the face of the man she had loved at one point in time. It was also the face of the man who had rejected her. But that's okay now. She had accepted that they weren't meant for each other, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant

Hours had passed, and the entire group was now sprawled in different corners of the living room. They had spent the last few hours playing a variety of games, which had led to several heated arguments between the Leclerc brothers. Who would have thought they could get so competitive over board games? The night slowly died down and Enzo was the first one to leave. Arthur had dragged Y/n's boyfriend into a different room to show him something she didn't care enough to pay attention to. Making her way outside, she could see Alex and Jade in the kitchen cleaning up the aftermath of such intense game night. As she stared outside, she felt a presence next to her, followed by a soft, 'Hey'. Turning slightly towards the sound, she found Charles standing next to her, staring at the sky. "Hey," she murmured, glancing back ahead. "It's been a while...," said Charles, his gaze fixed on her. "It has. How have you been?" Y/n asked, keeping her eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact. "I've been good, I think," Charles said, his voice a bit uncertain. "How have you been? I see you're dating someone new now," He added, a hint of bitterness laced in his tone. Turning to face him, Y/n said, "Yeah, I have. He's a good guy. In fact, Arthur was the one who introduced us." Charles felt betrayed. How could he not, his own brother was responsible for this. "How is Alex? Oh, and how can I forget about little Leo?" She added. Upon her question, Charles glanced towards the kitchen where Alex was laughing at something Jade had said. He should feel happy—he has a girlfriend who loves him; he should be over the moon. Yet, for some reason, his mind wandered back to the lady in front of him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes—it was the same as when she had first offered him a lift to Arthur's party. The moon cast a soft glow on her face, and it took everything in Charles to not reach out and caress her cheek. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Charles, waiting for him to answer her. "Oh, yeah, things have been good. They're good," Charles said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good," Y/n replied, watching as her boyfriend make his way into the living room. "Well, that's my cue. I should get going. It's—it's been nice catching up after such a long time," Y/n smiled at him as she walked into the living room towards her boyfriend. Charles stood there for a moment, watching her leave with her boyfriend. Glancing back at the sky, he muttered to himself, "Good...but not the same without you."

I tried to imagine Your reaction It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' The night we went drinkin' Stumbled in the house And didn't make it past the kitchen

Y/n slowly made her way to the bathroom, taking off one earring at a time. She felt her boyfriend press a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading off to change his clothes. Staring at the mirror in front of her, she let out a sigh. Tonight was harder than Y/n had expected. Seeing him again shook the very foundation she had spent months building. It baffled her how Charles still held so much power over her. Talking to Charles after such a long time brought back so many memories, but one in particular stood out. She wasn't sure if it was the starry night that had reminded her of that day, or if simply being in Charles' presence had sparked that memory.

*flashback*

It was after a particularly rough Grand Prix that Y/n and Charles found themselves getting absolutely wasted. It was a quiet bar near Y/n's house, one that didn't have many visitors—especially considering it was 3 a.m. Slowly getting up, Y/n stumbled, losing her footing. She fully expected to smack the floor when a strong pair of arms broke her fall and steadied her. "It's okay, I've got you," Charles said as he led her out of the bar towards her house, not once letting go of her. It took them exactly 8 minutes to get the lock to Y/n's door. She remembers it because that's how long Charles kept on hugging her, leaning into her for 'moral support,' as he liked to call it. Slowly the two stumbled into her house. As they walked inside, Charles lost his footing and fell to the floor, pulling a drunk Y/n down with him. Worried, Charles quickly sat up, looking at Y/n to check if she was alright. His worry soon eased as the room was filled with Y/n's laughter. Seeing her laugh, Charles couldn't help but join in. He laid back down besides her, still smiling. "I love you Y/n/n," said Charles as he pulled her in for a hug. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n instantly sobered up when she heard him say those three words. There lay a drunk Charles, happily snuggling with what he assumed to be a drunk Y/n, forgetting about all the worries in the world and just being content lying there with her. Alternatively, there lay Y/n in the arms of the boy she realized she saw as much more than 'just a friend,' thinking if the world were to end tomorrow, she'd be happy to die like this—in his arms.

*present*

Finishing the last step of her nighttime routine, Y/n made her way to her bed, into the arms of her boyfriend. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't think like this. But one thought lingered in her mind—It's not the same.

Ah. it's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

The drive back home was a silent one for Charles and Alex. For the first time in a long time, Charles felt happy. Not once did he think about racing or losing the championship. Not once did the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind for months resurface. He'd like to think it was because of the game night, but no matter how much he wanted that to be true, he knew that wasn't the reason for this happiness. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake—getting together with Alex so quickly, adding Leo into the mix. It made him wonder what would have happened if he had given her a chance, if only he had waited to see how things might play out. Charles thought he had matured. He figured it had been months now, it wouldn't affect him as much. But he was wrong. Even now, after all this time, thinking about her, about them, still breaks his heart.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine If the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over, right? You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

Charles just couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried, he lay there, in his bed, wide awake. He looked to his side to find Alex passed out with Leo by her feet. As much as he hated to admit, he did not find the sight as comforting as he used to. Looking back at the ceiling, Charles could not bear to let his thoughts run wild for another second. Quickly, he got up and changed into his tracks. He figured a jog would help calm his mind down. And so, that's what he did: he grabbed his keys and made his way out of the house at 2 a.m. for a late-night run.

The second Charles stepped onto the street, he ran. He ran for as long as his feet could take him. After running for what felt like hours, Charles stopped by a park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings and realized he was far away from his neighborhood. Instead, he realized he was much closer to the place he had just come home from a few hours ago—he was near Arthur's neighborhood. Making his way inside the park, Charles spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. As he walked closer, he realized that it was the one person he wanted to get out of his mind. "Y/n?" said Charles in a confused tone. Looking up at the sound, Y/n came face to face with Charles. "Charles! What are you doing here?" She asked, confused by his sudden presence. "I could ask you the same," he paused to look at his watch before continuing, "That too, at 3 a.m.?" Not knowing what to say, Y/n scooted a little, inviting the boy to take a seat next to her. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a quiet voice. For a while, neither of them said anything. The two sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently?" Charles questioned, breaking the silence. "Huh? Differently, how?" Y/n asked, confused about what the boy in front of her was getting at. Charles knows he shouldn't say it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, it was either now or never. "Do you ever wonder if things would have been different, had I—had we, um..." Charles hesitated. "Had we what, Charles?" Y/n asked, now turned, giving him her full attention. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Had we gotten together? Had I reacted differently to your confession? Do you think things would have been different then?" Stunned at his question, Y/n was taken aback. "I don't see the point in bringing this up now, Charles. It doesn't matter anyways," she said, slowly turned away from the boy. In an instant, Charles grabbed her hands, stopping her. "It matters to me, Y/n, please," he pleaded. "I don't know, Charles...I don't know, maybe?" Y/n said. Letting out a sigh, she continued, "Why now, though? Why now, when I have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend...and a DOG, for fuck's sake." Y/n suddenly felt anger towards the boy. Why was he having these doubts all of a sudden? And why now, of all times? She had finally gotten used to living without constantly having him in the back of her mind. So why now? "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm aware of how wrong all of this is? I tried to forget you. I tried really hard to forget every single thing about you, and for a while, it worked. I was happy; I was so happy with Alex, and then we got Leo. I felt complete...but it only lasted for a while. Every time I had a bad day, you were the first person I thought about calling. Every time I won a race or got a podium, your eyes were the ones I searched for as soon as I got up there. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoyed breaking your heart back then? I hated myself for the way I reacted," Charles said, finally letting go of every single thing he had been holding onto for such a long time. "WELL THEN WHY DID YOU REACT THAT WAY?" Y/n said, losing her cool after Charles' outburst. "I—I don't know," he said, ashamed of the way he handled things. "I just assumed, if we became a couple, things wouldn't work out, because let's be honest I know my luck—they never do, and then we break up. So, I not only lose you, I also lose a bond that I held so close to my heart," he continued. Y/n was at a loss for words. It felt like a fever dream. All she wanted was for Charles to want her. And now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow, amidst all this chaos, Y/n's mind drifted to Alex. She wondered if Alex was aware of this, If she had her doubts. She thought about how happy Alex looked earlier today. Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n got up. "Charles...I'm sorry but we can't—I can't do this. Think about Alex. How can you do this to her? I have a boyfriend now, and for once, I don't have to hope that he feels the same way I do. For once, I don't have to doubt the feelings that we share—whether they're real or not. I'm sorry, but there will never be an 'us,'" Y/n said as she started to walk towards her apartment.

"You said 'feelings.' Does that mean you don't love him?" Charles questioned. Turning back to look at the boy, who was now standing as well, "What?" Y/n asked. "You just said 'the feelings you share,' and not love. Does that mean you don't love him? Is it because, deep down, you know, you still love me?" Charles questioned, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Charles," Y/n said as she walked away, leaving Charles all alone in the middle of the park.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you, know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

The next time Y/n heard about Charles was a few months later. She had decided to spend the day with Arthur and Jade. The trio had spent the majority of their day lounging and watching movies. As the day progressed, they slowly got comfortable on the couch and started to talk about a variety of things, with a glass of wine in hand. Somewhere in between, the conversation about Enzo and Charlotte's wedding came up. "Hey Y/n/n, do you have a date in mind?" Jade asked. Y/n had broken up with her boyfriend not long after that night in the park with Charles. Arthur gave Y/n a sad smile. He knew about Y/n's crush, and Charles' rejection. He also knew about that night in the park. "Umm...not really, I don't have anyone particular in mind," said Y/n with a little hesitation. "Ahh, you know what? why don't you go with Charles? I always thought you two would make a cute pair," said Jade as she got up to get some more snacks. Upon hearing this, Y/n shot Arthur a look. "What?" she asked. Taking a sip of his drink, Arthur said, "He broke up with her." He continued, "He broke up with her a while ago...A few weeks after the park incident." Y/n didn't know how to react. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel guilty over their breakup," said Arthur. A soft 'Oh' was all Y/n could mutter. "Just know it's not your fault. He chose to break up with her. This has nothing to do with you," said Arthur. Getting up to go get another bottle, he turned around and said, "I know things are complicated between the two of you, but for what it's worth, don't let this guilt stop you from going after what you want. That is, if that's what you still want." With that Arthur left Y/n alone with her thoughts.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant If the world was ending You'd come over, right?

Everything about tonight was perfect—the lights, the decoration, the location; it was all perfect. Y/n felt honored when Charlotte had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. She still remembers how she could not stop crying and how it took both Enzo and Charlotte to calm her down. Standing in front of her was Enzo, a man Y/n considered to be her older brother, looking as handsome as ever. Locking eyes with her, Enzo smiled at Y/n. 'You've got this,' she mouthed to him. Diverting her eyes, Y/n made eye contact with him. Standing tall in an expensive suit was none other than Enzo's younger brother, Charles. The two had not spoken even once since that night—not when they arrived at the wedding location, not at the family dinner, and not even when they walked down the aisle together as the groomsman and bridesmaid. It was clear that Charles wanted to talk to her. He made many attempts to convey that. Y/n, however, wasn't ready to have that talk. Doing so would mean the two would have to come face-to-face with the fact that they unintentionally sabotaged their relationships for each other—something Y/n was not ready to accept.

The ceremony was beautiful. Y/n even shed a few tears at the couple's vow's. It was finally time for their reception. As everyone was making their way to reception venue, Y/n was pulled into the corner by someone. Before she could say anything, she heard "Shh, It's me," and then the owner of that voice came in view. "Charles," she said, although her voice came muffled under Charles' hand. Smiling at her, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, which I think you have noticed by now, considering you suddenly vanish the moment I make my way towards you." Removing his hand from over her mouth, Y/n said, "What do you want Charles?" "Isn't it obvious by now? I want you, Y/n. I know what I said in the park was stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have unloaded my feeling onto you like that. I know I should have figured things out for myself before I did anything. And I've learned it the hard way. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process, and I genuinely regret that. If I could go back in time and reverse things, I would. But you also have to know I have never been more sure about anything else in my life than I am about you since that night in the park. I love you, and I have loved you ever since I met you. I want to be the person you call after a long day, the one you think about every time something good happens in your life. Most of all, I want to be the one you think about, no matter what," said Charles, holding nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Y/n let out a few tears she didn't know she had been holding in. "How are you so sure things will work out? How do you know we're not going to wake up in a year or two's time and realize how big of a mistake this was? And how things would have been better had we let them be just the way they were? How?" Y/n questioned Charles. "I don't, and I can't be sure that this will work out," said Charles. Taking a step forward, he held onto Y/n's hand before continuing, "But I know that you're worth the risk. I had to learn it the long way," he said with a smirk, upon which Y/n smacked his arm. "Charles!" she said in a tone of warning. "I'm sorry, mon amour, but you should know, if the world was going to end tomorrow, you'd be the only person I would want to spend the night with. No matter what happens I want you, Y/n. You're worth the risk," said Charles.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why We would even have to say goodbye

"Are you sure about this, Charles," said Y/n as she looked at him. "I'm more than sure, mon amour," said Charles, his eyes gleaming with nothing but sincerity and love. And so Y/n nodded her head. "Yes," she said as she looked at the boy kneeling in front of her. Jumping up in joy, Charles let out a scream, "She said yes!" All of a sudden, their friends and family came out from where they were hiding, all excited to congratulate the couple on their engagement. Y/n was pulled into an embrace by none other than her best friend, "You knew, didn't you?" she asked. "Of course I knew, who do you think helped him pick out that ring," said Arthur, still hugging her. "I'm happy for you," he said as he pulled away. "Me too," Y/n said smiling up at him.

As Y/n looked at Charles, she knew no matter her fears and doubts, she would never regret this decision—ever.

...

[sxcret-garden]

Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion. 

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile. 

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips. 

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass. 

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part. 

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?” 

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to. 

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin. 

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently. 

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can. 

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more. 

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is. 

You also keep meeting up to have sex. 

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom. 

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge. 

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.” 

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours. 

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know. 

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?” 

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you. 

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.” 

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out. 

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7. 

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready. 

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone. 

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again. 

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks. 

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight. 

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it. 

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you. 

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning. 

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now. 

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there. 

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly. 

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off. 

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips. 

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead. 

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time. 

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

I've also seen a lot of people asking for 6/7th year jily so I tried to include some. These fics explore how much they've grown in that period between the end of school and the rising tensions of war.

Of course, I've also included fics with marauders shenanigans. As always, these fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Death and Other Inconveniences by @asteriaem

When James Potter disappeared for ten days in the middle of the spring term of their fifth year, the whole school noticed. He buried his parents in a quiet ceremony and returned to school amid outrageous rumours.

When Lily Evans disappeared for three days before the Christmas holidays in sixth year, two people noticed. She found the house packed, a nasty note from her sister, and spent the rest of the holidays sleeping rough. Both are left grieving and angry at Hogwarts over the summer, with no where else to go and war raging around them. Really, how else could it have gone?

God where do I even start? This fic is incredibly well written; everything from how well-rounded and dynamic all the characters are to the dialogue and descriptions. For everyone tired of character deformation and would like to read a long-form that explores the turbulence of adolescence coupled with grief and the uncertainties of war this fic is for you. When I say I miss old jily, I mean this exact era of characterisation.

Notes by @scriibble-fics

On an ordinary Tuesday in October of 1975, James Potter passes Lily Evans a note. She has no way of knowing it, of course, but it’s the first note of thousands that will pass between them in the years to come.

Head of House by SwissCheesePlant

The consequences of Sirius and James pretending to be boyfriends weren't supposed to come to a head during a convoluted and unnecessarily kinetic drinking game... but such is life.

As If By Magic by @annabtg

Lily Evans, Head Girl, is starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Alongside her, Head Boy James Potter, who has always had a crush on her yet has given up all hope of winning her over. But between working together, sharing fun times with friends and getting through the darker moments that come with living in an era of war, things between them are bound to change...

Questions and Answers by lizardcookie (on ao3)

The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer (seventh Year jily).

Come Together by @thequibblah

It’s difficult to say when James and Lily took the first steps to love. Perhaps they had always been walking this road, unaware of the person they were walking towards until the mist cleared. They would fall in love eventually — but we would be remiss in ignoring the hiccups along the way.

Okay so confession, I haven’t read this but it's been on my TBR for ages and everyone's been recommending me to read it. Judging by other works by the same author that I have read, I can attest that Lily and James have always been well-written so I trust that this fic is no exception.

These next few fics are all by @gigglesandfreckles-hp because Abi's characterisations are perfect and there’s just something about her writing that transports me to the scene. This woman can make me laugh and cry and worry all in under three thousand words.

roots of memory

Lily frowns slightly, mulling it over. “I’m not really sure either,” she admits. “Honestly, don’t take this personally, but I don’t remember much about you in the first couple of years. I think I was too focused on trying to figure out school and magic and everything else.”

James clutches his chest in mock offence. “I’ll act like that didn’t just irreparably damage my soul.”

crafting chemistry

“Is there something that needs to be discussed between the three of us?” Minerva prompts, her eyes narrowing sharply.

Lily’s face betrays her first. A bright flush creeps slowly along her cheeks, blooming from her neck upward, as though her skin can’t hide the emotion simmering underneath. She keeps her eyes stubbornly trained on the far corner of the office, anywhere but James. Minerva notices James’s hand, the one that had been habitually running through his hair, freeze mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly.

but we dream in the light (a continuation of one of my favourite fics)

“Lily Evans, we have got to stop meeting like this,” he grins.

She shakes her head, laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

James spins around dramatically. “Where?”

the dance of mischief and duty

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure.

But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

prompt: flip the script

my church offers no absolutes

She stares at him, her eyes the only ones open as the priest prays, but she can’t look away.

James Potter is here.

under the influence of loss

“Like what? You fancy me! Kiss me.”

Each time she says it, it’s like a new bruise blooms around his heart, her words pressing on all of them at once.

“I can’t!” he shouts, the frustration cracking through.

“Because I’ve been drinking?” she demands, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Your chivalry is duly noted, Potter, but I’m giving you a pass here. Just—”

“It’s not about that,” he interrupts.

You know what they say, you can tell who an author's favourite character is by how much they make them suffer

From the Edge by @maraudersftw

A three-hour-long detention. A barrage of unspilled words. A kiss that has remained unacknowledged. Until now.

That Summer by the_casual_author (on ao3)

In which James and Lily spend the summer in a house by the sea. (and fall in love in the process)

pleasant, poised, polite, professional by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans' journalism career is stagnating, and when Mumblemumps sweeps through the office, she couldn't be less pleased to be asked to cover the sports beat. James Potter, the captain of the Wimborne Wasps who is campaigning to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, only seems to confirm her worst fears about athletes. Until.

If you enjoyed James' characterisation in James Potter Won't Go Quietly then you'll enjoy this

Fantasise also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

When Lily ends up taking Veritaserum as part of one of Sirius' games, James finds that he really doesn't need to know any of the nitty-gritty details. Fate has other plans.

And James Potter also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

The most unfortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask Lily Evans, is being forced to work alongside James Potter. The most fortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask James Potter, is getting opportunities to annoy Lily Evans. The fact of the matter is, that despite their both being talented, intelligent students with bright futures and burning competitive streaks, Lily and James will never get along. No matter how much others think they ought to.

Braid also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

Sick and tired of revision, Lily gladly takes a distraction in the name of giving James Potter a helping hand.

Revenge Tastes Sweeter by @charmsandtealeaves

This by far had to be one of the more stupid things that Lily Evans had ever agreed to, and she’d gone along with a lot of her friends' bullshit ideas. She’d wanted to maintain her dignity in breaking up with her shit of an ex-boyfriend. However, fake dating James Potter hadn’t been in her grand plan of dignity. She’d merely been venting her frustrations to her dorm mates in the common room, she hadn’t expected advice and well… plotting. Though she should have expected better, these lot were always plotting something. Was it too late to just go with Dorcas’ “Stab him!” suggestion?

Simmer Until Ready by @kay-elle-cee

James Potter is not a healer. His is a potioneer—the Order of the Phoenix's lead potioneer, in fact. So when their top field fighter—Lily Evans—comes to him for treatment after a particularly rough mission, he helps the best way he knows how: a vial of freshly-brewed Skele-Gro and a dose of laughter.

Kels always writes the best order!jily

climb higher by penniesinthepool (on ao3)

It's been three (long) years since Lily and James have seen each other. Now, he's living out his dream playing Quidditch with Puddlemere United and she hers as an Auror.

They're happy. But fate (and annoying friends) works in funny ways, sometimes, and through a series of chance meetings, they begin to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be happier. My take on what would maybe happen in a universe where James wasn't Head Boy, taken to the extreme.

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre

a short snippet of James Potter's and Lily Evans' thoughts after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., and before the altercation with Severus Snape changes everything.

It was so close to going a better way

Haley's characterisations are always on point

”Just” Partners by @petalsthefish

James asks Lily what they are after a series of long and hidden snogs in dark corridors.

tied to you by @jjameslily

Lily’s foot sank into the damp earth as she stepped closer to the water’s edge. The lake mirrored the starry sky above, but something else caught her eye – a shape in the reflection.

James my sweet summer child, thank you for looking after her

Love for the Summer by @missgryffin

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

of hearts and keys by the_crownless_queen (on ao3)

In a world where magic means everyone can see your soul, Lily Evans wonders what it would feel like for someone she loves to open her heart.

Seven Years and Seventy More by surlybobbies (on ao3)

When James walked into the 7th year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory a few moonstruck minutes later, he found Sirius lying in bed with his hands folded across his stomach. “Been with Evans, then?” he asked, without lifting his head. There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice.

James froze in the act of unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Er, yeah.”

“She doing well?” Remus asked from his bed, the closest one to the door. He had a book open on his lap but had lifted his gaze when James came in. His stare was steady and pleasant, but there was a sharpness behind it that put James on the defensive.

(James has some news.)

This Town Is Fake But You're The Real Thing by @tedwardremus

Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show's antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.

Prophecy by Alohaemora (on ao3)

Faint rays of sunlight began to filter into the nursery from the pink-red sky outside, the morning song of robins and thrushes lilting as all of Sirius's worst fears manifested before him, devastating in their might.

"Fuck," he whispered. A horrible, painful lump swelled in his throat, clawing, stinging. "Fucking hell."

The corners of Lily's lips trembled. "James didn't know how to tell you."

Not quite a jily fic but I wanted to share

not as smart as you think you are (or how to fall in love in 7 months) by Squidge_06 (on ao3)

Lily Evans has spent the past 6 years excelling at school and hating James Potter. Both these facts converge suddenly at the beginning of her 7th year when she’s confronted with a less than perfect grade and a Transfiguration tutor who is the very last person she wants to see.

That same person might just turn out to be a whole lot more complicated and just a little more wonderful than she could ever have imagined.

Meeting the Potters by FloreatCastellum (on ao3)

It's always a risk, introducing your parents to your girlfriend. Most people don't have to worry about whether or not their mother is going to be in handcuffs, though.

Mistle-Wow by LiveLaughLoveToRead (on ao3)

Lily and James Potters’ love was fiery, filled with passion, tragedy, and love. It was not a fast ignition of a flame that proceeded to burn bright. No, it was a flame that was lit on the Hogwarts Express before anyone had joined the compartment. It burned brighter as their years progressed, and it was lit ablaze in their seventh year. It burned until the day they died.

Or an incident that would have had Madam Pince seething (if they were caught)

Simple Math by yallofthemwitches (on ao3)

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.

[princessmaybank]

Truth or Dare

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealous JJ, stripping, fingering, squirting, etc.

Summary: They play t or d.

Authors Note: I didn't mean to post this so soon, but since it's out already I hope you like it, I'm just stopping it here, if you like it let me know if you want a part 2 :(.

"Truth or Dare?" John B asks darting his eyes to Cleo. "Oh come on man! You should already know the answer!" He smirked and nodded. You were at the chateau in the hot tub that JJ so graciously purchased for you all a few months back. Everyone was slugging down beers and having a big night of fun.

"I dare you to read the last text message you sent out loud." JB said shrugging, showing us that's all he has prepared. "oh man, too easy!" Cleo flung her arms upwards then reached for her phone. After she got to her messages she cleared her throat. " 'What we gonna do tonight?' I sent that to Sarah man." John B rolled his eyes in defeat, secretly hoping she had sent a naughty message to Pope or something.

"Okay Y/N, truth or dare?" She moved on quickly. "Dare of course." You responded, causing JJ to look at you with a slight smile. You and JJ are best friends, and always have been. Of course everyone in that hot tub was your best friend, but JJ was different, you could talk about literally anything for hours on end. He's always been there for you.

"I dare you to prank call Rafe Cameron. Pretend to want him and need him." Cleo ended with a smirk pointing to your phone. You didn't mind the dare but a certain blonde about a foot behind you definitely cared. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions, everything he wanted to say was already written on his face. "I don't think that's a good idea Y/N." You hear JJ say with a stern voice from behind you. "Oh calm your tits Jayj, what's the worst that could happen? I get a boyfriend?" You responded making all the girls giggle.

"It's ringing!" Kiara said out loud so everyone knew what was going on. Kiara was very close to the phone with you but it was pressed against your ear. "Hey Rafe!" You said a little too enthusiastic for JJ's liking. "Hey, Y/N. What do I owe this pleasant surprise?" He asked, gratefully. "Well I really wanted to tell you that I think of you a lot Rafe. It's getting to be too much now. I can't shake the feeling of needing to be with you." Everyone was giggling at that moment, other than one person, I'm sure you could guess who. Your eyes caught JJ's as he rolled them and crossed his arms. You could see how this was affecting him, so why not play some more. "Wow, I've been wai-" You cut Rafe's sentence short. "Rafe, mmmmm I need you so bad right now. Ohhhh." You pretend to moan into the phone. "Oh baby, are you touching yourself to me?" He asked clearly turned on. Kiara gagged and walked a few feet away. "Oh yes I am, but I wish it was you..." You paused for dramatic effect.

"Daddy." You smirked holding back a giggle, hearing Rafe groan into the phone. Next thing you know JJ is standing in front of you hanging up the call, fuming. He was legitimately tomato red. Everyone watched, curious about what he was going to do.

He grabbed your waist pulling you as close as he could while looking into your eyes. "Don't you ever pull that shit again." His eyes never left yours. You wanted to stand up for yourself but the only thing that left your mouth was "o-okay." He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good girl." There was that feeling of butterflies in your stomach. JJ never made you feel this way. What was happening? "When this little party is over you're coming to my room, we have things to talk about." He whispered again.

Everyone sat back down choosing to ignore how JJ nearly killed/fucked you right then and there. You chose to ignore it as well even though the tingling between your legs is making it difficult.

Instead of you asking the next question Pope cut the tension and began after Sarah. "Truth or dare?" He asked. Sarah obviously chose the safe route at this moment. "Is it true that even though you and JB are married, you'll still have a huge wedding and legally do it?" Pope asked. Awe of course he would, it's Pope. Sarah nodded "Of course I still want my dream wedding! Don't be silly Pope." She giggled.

"Okay J- Kiara, yeah Kiara. Truth or dare?" No one could look at JJ right now how would they be able to play this game right now?

"I'll say, truth." She smiled lightly. "Ok here's a little would you rather. Would you rather, fuck Topper or Kelce?" Kiara gasped. "Ew, can I kill myself instead?" She gagged. Everyone laughed and accepted that as her answer.

Eventually someone asked JJ the question and he ended up chugging some beer upside down. You still couldn't get those low-flying butterflies to go away. The thought of JJ taking you right there was fogging your brain.

After about an hour longer everyone was headed home or to bed. Pope and Cleo went back to the Heywards and Kiara went back to her house. Sarah decided to stay at the chateau with John B, then of course JJ asked you to go to his room and talk with him.

You sat on JJ's bed after getting your shower, you waited for him to finish up in the shower. JJ left some of his clothes on his bed for you to change into.

Next thing you knew, you were under JJ, making out with him on his bed. You had no idea how you got here but you weren't going to complain.

JJ pulled you onto his lap, never disconnecting your lips from each other. He held onto your hips and pressed down as he grinded up. You moved your hips at a faster pace needing the friction. He tore his lips from yours taking a breath before speaking. "Truth or dare?" He asked as you rolled your eyes. JJ gave you a look that said 'just answer it'. So you did. "Dare." You said with confidence streaming through your veins. JJ rubbed your hips, slowly reaching for your butt to squeeze.

"Strip for me baby." He said as he squeezed. You blushed not knowing how to react. "Come on baby, let me see that gorgeous body you've got hiding under my baggy clothes." When JJ said that, you began to melt. You decided to just take your shirt off while on his lap. You weren't wearing a bra so he got quite the show very quickly. You got off of him as he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed. The idea to strip tease JJ came to your mind so that's exactly what you did.

At some point when you were completely naked, you wanted to tease him so you sat on his lap and pulled one of his hands forward to your aching hole. You teased yourself with his fingers, secretly wanting him to continue what you had started. Which he had no problem with doing. He pushed two fingers inside of you causing a gasp and moan mix, to fall from your lips.

JJ's hand raced to cover your mouth. "Shhhh you have to be quiet, baby, or we'll get caught." He whispered in your ear. You nodded and bit your lip as JJ moved his fingers back and forth in your tight hole. JJ was making you so wet, your pussy was so loud that you might just get caught by being fingered. "Tell your pussy to be quiet." He giggled in your ear. "Tell your fingers to stop making me feel so good then." You moaned leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

JJ smirked to himself, knowing he was doing a good job. He sped up trying to make you cum but you suddenly felt embarrassed. "JJ- this f-eels so g-good..but I think I have to go..to the bathroom-" That was music to JJ's ears. His movements only got faster, he moved your hand to your clit so you could help by rubbing yourself.

"JJ- I-I" A loud squeal started erupting from your mouth. JJ slapped his hand across your mouth. One more swift push into your pussy and he pulled out, a gush of fluid came rushing out. You kept moaning into his hand. He continued playing with your cunt until you were done squirting.

"Something tells me you've never done that before baby."

[littlemissclandestine]

please please pleaseeee write more soft adler hcs!!!! I'm literally obsessed with your work!!

Soft!Adler Headcanons: (Girl)Dad! Edition Part 1

GIF by h-a-unted

Author's Note: Ahhh! Back at it again. Uni has been kicking me in the balls and I've had writer's and art block argh. This has been in drafts for a while but this post was the catalyst in helping me add more so thank you! I have not proofread so um hope you don't mind guys. I miss my husband. ...And thanks for the ask anon! Gonna make me cry with your comment hehe. I hope this is okay for soft!Adler. I need to get this out. I'm working on the other ask as well with Bell, not sure if it's the same anon. Just gimme some more time. Appreciate you being patient and hope all is good with you <3

Adler was never really big on families. Didn’t see himself as the type of man to fit that stereotypical suburban lifestyle that everyone seemed to crave. Couldn’t even picture himself like that. Well at least not since his ex-wife…

As soon as he found out he was going to be a father, it was like time stopped. So many things going through his mind at once that he struggled to process it. Like those helicopter videos where the blades whir so fast it’s like they’ve frozen. That’s how Adler felt…frozen.

It took him a while to get his head round it. You’d see him randomly staring off into space, his nails digging into the sofa as he scratched at it out of nervousness. He’d sometimes just head out for the day, saying he’ll be back soon but never knew what he’d actually get up to. A walk perhaps. A trip to the bar. Or…walking round a DIY store, choosing the paint he’d use on the walls of the soon-to-be nursery of your home.

Every few weeks, he’d come home with something new. You’d walk in to the nursery while he was out and take it all in, counting down the days until the room was in full use and you’d notice something that wasn’t there before. A new book for the shelf, new clothes in the closet, toys in the basket.

When you gave birth, he was taxiing - he’d just returned to the US on a jet after another intense and gruelling operation he’s been sent on. He raced over in a cab all the way to the hospital, ringing around and receiving calls from your family too. His mind was all over the place as he approached reception, trying to stay calm as he asked which ward you were in but the apprehension was too much. There weren’t a lot of things that made Adler anxious but this most certainly was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his entire life to date.

As soon as he walked in, his stomach dropped, his shoulders relaxed and he exhaled, a sigh of relief that everything was okay. He immediately gave you a hug and a kiss to the forehead, an unspoken promise to make it up to you for not being there during the birth.

When you asked him if he wanted to hold her, he just blinked at you for a few moments as if you said the stupidest thing in the world. He took a deep, shaky breath as he reached out and took her with a nod, his hands shaking slightly. Adjusting her, making sure her head and spin was supported adequately in his arms, he just watched her with pure adoration in his eyes as a small smile crept onto his lips. Tears threatening to fall from his eyes, he turned around to look out the window, pretending to check on your car when in actual fact he just needed a moment to compose himself, taking a couple deep breaths and clearing his throat, overwhelmed with the feeling of not deserving this kind of joy after all of the things he’s done in his career. -> “God, she’s uh beyond beautiful, honey. Just like you.”

At home, you’d often find him shirtless. In the lounge, he’d be on his back as he plays with his daughter on the sofa, holding her up in the air and bringing her back down to rub his nose over her belly, making her giggle and raising her again. Sometimes, you’d find him just wandering the house with her - her thumb in her mouth and head on his chest as he carried her with one arm under her bottom, an occasional kiss to the head as he reached for something from the fridge with the other hand. Other times, he’d be reading in bed with her cuddled up and her head on his shoulder, softly snoring into his neck. Skin-to-skin contact was extra important for him.

He’d often sing to her or put on a baby voice as he played with her, something he’d only do when totally alone, unaware you were secretly watching him and when she reached up and touched his scar, it would always make him melt

Adler’s the type of dad to treat his daughter to pretty much anything she wants. He’s keen not to spoil her but when she looks up at him like she does, he can’t say no, almost every single time. His daughter would run to him when others would deny her things such as supermarket items, fizzy drinks at a family dinner or party or time at the park. He’d hand her whatever it is when someone isn’t looking and give her a side smile and a wink. -> “Just don’t tell your mom, kid.”

He notices that she tends to fixate on his sunglasses a lot, smacking them on the floor, touching the lenses and leaving grubby marks over them and although he’d scream internally, he dealt with it calmly and bought her her own pair throughout the years so they could twin.

Ah yes twinning! Same shirt? Same watch? Certainly. He finds it cute.

Adler would most certainly give in when it comes to pranks. In fact, he’d go out of his way to help his daughter prank his s/o, giving the kid a fist bump when it goes off without a hitch and you end up drenched in slime. -> “Slime suits you, darlin’!”

Russell owns a cap saying “Girl Dad” on it and wears it proudly around the house or as he pushes the pram or holds his daughter’s hand.

Whenever he crosses roads with his daughter, he’ll hold her hand. When she was young, he did that thing where he holds one hand and his s/o holds the other and they lift their kid up and lower them again repeatedly.

When putting her in the car, he’d be a responsible parent and put her in and take her out of the side on the pavement and not the road

He’d be super protective of his daughter, having ‘the talk’ when she hits that phase of her life and being serious about it. He wouldn’t let her wear crop tops, skirts and shorts until she was at least around 21 years of age. 

If he finds her messing with a boy home alone, you best believe that boy would be scared shitless of even being within 100 miles of Adler or his daughter ever again. No guns were involved but Russell was stern as fuck with him as he knows exactly what boys are like at that age. -> “Absolute fucking horndogs,” he says as he slams the front door closed and then points to the lounge and clicks his fingers. “You, in there. Now. Come on.”

When his daughter told him about a father-daughter dance coming up, his heart sank because he knew he’d be away at that time. He made up for it by taking her out and letting her dress up, Russell bringing home a beautiful necklace for her to wear and putting it on her. They’d talk and laugh about all sorts as they dance together and have a little catch up.

He definitely worries about her a lot and constantly questions himself. Is he doing enough? Is she happy? Will she end up like him? What if she ends up despising him when she eventually finds out what he does for a living?

But when she does? She’s more interested than he thought she’d be. He’d be sitting next to her in bed, reading her a story as she’s cuddled up by his side and she’d suddenly get bored, saying she wants another story about his army days instead. He tries his hardest to suppress his smile but it grows wider and they end up talking about his experiences until they both fall asleep together with Russell oversleeping and running late for work in the morning.

They’d often go stargazing together and get back home at a late hour. They’d lie on the roof of his car or on the grass together, pointing out constellations and talking about life. Russell would be tired the next morning at work but it’s okay because it was worth it to spend more time with his daughter

When he’d have to go away, it always hurt him but he was so used to compartmentalising and turning off that emotional part of him, he just got on with it, albeit carrying a little bracelet with beads that spell out ‘daddy’ she made for him for his birthday and in return? You guessed it, she got his dog tags. When he was alone at night halfway across the globe, he’d take it out and kiss it, his eyes closing, remembering her, wondering what she's doing and aching to see her and hug her again.

When she got older, her interest in his job peaked and she’d ask for lessons in shooting and hand-to-hand. Adler was hesitant at first but eventually gave in, thinking self defense was a good thing for a woman to learn of course. Frequent trips to a shooting range and setting up the back garden as a training area for close quarters combat? Hell yes.

Russell would teach his daughter how to drive too. -> “Yeah that’s it sweetheart. Now brake..no i said BRAKE…BRAAAKE! Ah shit, your mother’s going to kill me.”

He was also worried one day, his family would be a target so made it his mission to get them trained up too. Nobody really knew he had a family though. They wouldn’t go to very public spots and they assumed different identities so they weren’t tied to him.

He tends not to keep any photos of him and his family up on the walls in the house or in his wallet due to safety concerns

Adler secretly loves it when his daughter hooks onto his arm as they walk. It makes him all warm and fuzzy inside but he’d never admit that, smiling to himself before clearing his throat. -> “You wanna head down over there, kid? Nice view?”

He loves carrying her on his shoulders, her legs dangling and hands in his hair. -> “Careful with the hair up there, princess.” 

Some days, he’ll come back from work and find his daughter in the living room with a bunch of his clothes on. He’d try to stop himself from laughing at her but would fail miserably because it swallows her. Her impression of him wants to make him cry. -> “I do not speak like that nor do I stand like that. Is that a cigarette?! Gimme that!”

Don’t worry, she didn’t light it and Russell doesn’t smoke inside anymore, only outside. As soon as he sees his daughter, it goes out, even when she’s older.

When she clings to his leg as he walks, he rolls his eyes and smiles. -> “What are you doing there, kid? Come here, doll.” A grunt as he picks her up and kisses her cheek. “Better?” He smiles when she nods at him, knowing she just needs comfort right now and misses him when she’s gone.

He’s not usually one for the emotional talks but he’d try his best not to just dismiss her and send her off to her mother. He’d let her talk about her troubles and cry if need be, giving her a side hug as they sit on the edge of her bed and a kiss to her temple. -> “Okay and what are you gonna do about it, sweetheart? Remember how we said when things get tough, we don’t give up?”

Adler can do pep talks and offer practical advice to his daughter whenever she needs it. He’d take off his shades or look over the rim of them when what he was about to say was serious talk.

Russell tried his best not to call home when on missions, not wanting to let anything distract him. There were times he needed to hear his daughter’s voice though. Like when he’d been battered and bruised, half-dead on the floor in an alleyway, blood dripping down his face and hands and into the puddles as it rained. He pulled out his burner and closed his eyes, rolling onto his back as he heard her voice, tears mixing with the rain hitting his face. -> “I love you, sweetheart. Daddy’s coming home soon, okay?” He’d have to hold the phone away for a few moments, trying not to sob and his voice shaky. “And I’m taking you to that place you wanted to go to. Tell mommy to pack your bags, alright?”

He’d never been so scared of death before now that he had a family but he knew he had to pull through and make it back and he always did.

Life had completely changed for Russell when his daughter was born and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He’d do anything to protect her. 

[ghostieyanyan]

Hello uuuh what yandere riddle rose heart react if he met Mc like...mc is the princess of redrose thorn in another kingdom and she is the house warden president in another school....she is powerful...and mc doesn't have too strict rules but mcs student respect her and there are only 5 rules...1 don't be late 2 always do your cleaning day 3 no running in the halls 4 always respect and kind each other 5 never let the house warden president mad.......cause mc gets really scary than riddle and mc sometimes a little crazy and punished of who will messing with her classmates dorm or who will getting violent...

~Rose Princess! Mc~

Yan!Riddle x Rose Princess! Mc

Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, maybe some misspellings,

I made it so this mc isn't perfect! i hope that's okay

~~~

Riddle ran things his way. its either you follow all of his rules or "off with your head!" Even after the overblot, he's became or lenient but overall he's still a stickler for rules.

When Riddle met you, he didn't really mind it too much. you were just mixed with those other trouble makers in school. as long as you didn't get in to trouble, he'll stay out of your way.

That changed when he keep seeing you in Heartslabyul. its one thing is he were to find you with ace, deuce, grim, and the prefect. but its another when he sees you messing with his roses!!!

"Hey!!"

You jumped and wiped your head around to see a red faced Riddle.

"Who gave you authorization to touch the roses?!"

When he got closer, he realized you were tending to the roses! You were cutting off the dead branches that other students will either ignore or not noticed. Those branches are often by the roots of the brush, which makes it an unpleasant job to do. It showed on your hands and arms too. Cuts from the roses thorns...

"Oh my! I am very sorry, Head housewarden."

You stood up and bowed your head. which he wasn't prepared for a formal greeting. With the crowd you spend your time with... who could blame him...

"i noticed that some of the branches were rotting, so I've taken it upon myself to tend to them before they spread. i told Vice warden Trey ahead of time which he'd told me... he'll tell you..."

Riddle blinked. He looked at your work, the roots have been cleared of its old rotten branches and it looked overall more healthier. He turned to look at a basket you had, it was filled with a mixture of tools and roots. Riddle shifted his glaze at you. You're uniform was messy, with rips and dirt everywhere...

"Im sorry House Warden! i should have came to you directly for this request! Im sorry!"

You bowed your head again.

Riddle looked at everything one more time and turned to you.

"How do you know how to tend to the roses..? Not a lot of people know or even think about working with roses because of their thorns.."

You lifted your head, swiping your uniform to get rid of any lose dirt.

"Im..."

You bit your tongue for a moment then let out a breathe to continue.

"Im a Princess Redrose Thorn..."

Riddle had to do a double take on you.

"A princess..??"

There was an awkward moment of silence. You were about to continue when Riddle stopped you.

"finish with what you are doing here and after you are done, clean up and meet me in my room, please."

Riddle turned on his heel and started to walk away, after finishing with-.

"I'd like to discuss this when you are more presentable."

Then he was off..

~

Before your "meet up," he got himself your records. You were a princess in a land that are known for their different variations of roses. Nothing like Queendom of Roses, his homeland.

He found your last school, and how you had a very important role in that school. That was, before you were accepted in Night Raven College...

While he was lost in thought, looking at your files, he hears a knock.

"Come it!"

Riddle watched your head peep out behind the door. He tried to keep a neutral face but kinda failed...

"Ahem-! Please take a seat! I've.. made tea."

Watching Riddle stammer a bit was cute. you gave him a smile and walked inside, closing the door on the way. Riddle took the chance to pull out your seat, "out of respect".

There was an awkward moment of quiet but you didn't mind it. You took the opportunity too look at the house warden's room. Its as you expected it. Everything is neat and tidy. Everything is where it should be, very orderly. You see lots of books!! On his book shelf, on his desk, side table, they weren't messy but neatly stacked which you appreciate.

"Ahem!"

You jumped and turned to Riddle. You didn't mean to get lost in thought but you did.

"About the roses..."

"I really am sorry for messing with them without your permission, head-"

"Riddle. And its alright, i haven't seen anyone pay that much attention to their responsibility in the dorm. Normally they cut corners and not thing of the overall dorm structure."

He took a sip of his tea and glared to the imaginary freshman Heartslaybul students to the side.

"heh.. I just know how to tend to them."

"You said that you are a princess? why would a princess actively gets her hands dirty?"

"Oh!"

You laughed as you looked at your tea cup, running your fingers against the details of the saucer.

"where ive from, id like to rule hands on."

You straighten yourself and looked at Riddle. He swore you were glowing.

"The place i protect is my home too. As a princess, i have big responsibilities but i cant forget the little things either. That's why i like to be hands on."

Riddle felt a stammer coming, so he took a sip to stop it.

"Your homeland... its also practices the Queen of Hearts rule, correct?"

"well... yes and no?"

Riddle felt a twitch, how could you follow someone like the queen of hearts without following all her rules to a T? You're basically making a mockery of her... what a joke..

"My kingdom believes in what she stand for. Strength and Beauty! like a Rose with their thorns. Roses are used of many things, but they are not push overs. That's what we believe."

You took a sip but continued.

"Before i was accepted into Night Raven College, I was a part of another school, Rose Royal Academy. You could think of it as if Heartslabyul was a whole school. You could say i was the "housewarden" so i understand how things should run."

Riddle looked at you surprised. Honestly he was only listening partly to what you were saying, he was distracted by the way your lips moved... But he was quick grounded after hearing you were borderline a housewarden??

"Wait! how could you run a whole school without following all the rules of the queen of hearts?? It would have been mayhem! The students need structure, if not theyre just wild beast!!"

You looked at him surprised and kinda insulted by the idea of your classmates before were "such beast.' You coughed but answered his question.

"it wasnt like we didnt have rules, we just had 5."

You took a sip of tea as Riddle coughed.

"5?!?!"

"Yes. 5."

You placed your cup down and held up 5 fingers to name the rules.

"1, don't be late. Everyone should be punctual with time unless there's an emergency. 2, always do your cleaning day. Everyone has a task to clean a part of the school, classroom, dorms, gym, cafeteria, even the rose gardens. This place is our home and it will not be tolerated living in a mess! 3, no running in the halls. You could hurt someone or even hurt yourself. Running is only allowed for gym or emergency. 4, always respect and be kind to each other. We should all aim to help each other. And if you don't like someone, agree to disagree or compromise. 5, never let the house warden president mad. If you break one of the rules with a valid reason, your punishment will be light. If i smell deceive, your punishment will be swift and one to remember."

You both sat there for a minute of silences.

"w-well, thats how i ran things. we still had unbirthday parties, tea parties, etc. but overall those were the rules."

Riddle sat there staring, kinda like watching a wheel turning. he was about to respond to you before a knock was heard from the door.

"come in!"

Trey walked in with Cater following behind.

"we're hear with the repor- oh! sorry are we interrupting?"

"oooo~ what's happening here~? this seems very romantic."

Riddle's face turned red.

"what?!? its just a-"

"Riddle invited to talk about my years before NRC. I should be heading out anyway. I have to get some books in the library."

Riddle jumped up from his seat.

"if you need a book, i might have one here..?"

Trey and Cater stood to the side watching there Housewarden fumble at you.

"heh.. its alright. i asked the librarian to hold that book for me a few days ago. Thank you though. And thank you for the tea. Good bye."

You bowed your head as you walked out. Trey and Cater quickly turned to their friend, noticing how red he is..

"awww.. sorry for interrupting your little date house warden~"

"Hem-! Cater, i expect the roses in the hallways to be all clean and have fresh water before curfew.."

"a...ah... okay."

Trey holds in a laugh.

~~~

The next coming days, Riddle watches you help the other Heartslaybul students, in there tasks or school work. The students started to call you their Rose mom. Sweet and gentle but will show thorns if underestimated.

He has watched you tell a student to go finished their assignment for a class their falling behind and let you finished their cleaning task.

He also watched you help Ace, Deuce, Prefect, and Grim with an assignment with Crewel.

He watched you help Trey in the kitchen and watched you help Cater set the table for an unbirthday party.

With everything you do that made his heart flutter, you do something that made him wish that you would help him, mainly stay by his side.

A dark part of him wanted to keep you to himself and personally train you to stay by his side. That sweet attitude of yours should be his and his alone.

He'll make you his prefect rose. if he shaped you just right, his mother might accept you as a daughter-in-law. With you by his side, he could do anything.

So just wait a little longer, he'll get everything ready for you~

~~~

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (10 - Welcome Home)

Chapter Summary: “No,” you shake your head firmly. Wanda wouldn't do that to you, wouldn't impose her will on you, let alone on thousands of people. “I'm sorry,” Darcy murmurs, her voice low. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wish I was lying, but I swear I’m not.”

“Prove it,” you demand, in a last, desperate attempt to cling to the life you've built here with Wanda, to preserve the trust you've placed in the person who means the world to you.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 6.1k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: We've reached the end of Part 1! If you've noticed the updated series masterlist, I removed the dates of when the Part 2 chapters will be published. I've decided to take my time as I've started Law school. Rest assured this series will be completed, as I have a feeling this will be my last for this pairing/fandom // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It's getting late. Families are beginning to pack up, hauling sugar-fueled, weary kids back home, as the Halloween crowd dwindles to a few costumed stragglers. One by one, the booths start shutting down, their owners announcing fifty percent off final sales in a last-ditch effort to clear their stocks. You haven't returned from your patrol, and Billy and Tommy are nowhere to be seen. 

You should've been back by now. The boys, too. 

Wanda’s anxiety is creeping up again. She scans the square, searching faces, but none of them are yours. None of them are Billy or Tommy's. 

“Have you seen my kids, Billy and Tommy?” she asks a passing neighbor.

“Can't say I have,” he shrugs, moving along.

An uneasy feeling crawls up Wanda's spine. Where’s her family?

Then she spots Agnes, effortlessly holding court with a group of volunteers by the cotton candy stand. She hesitates, knowing full well that getting Agnes' attention usually means signing up for more than she bargained for. But if anyone has a handle on everything happening tonight, it’s her snooping, ever-present neighbor.

“Agnes!” Wanda calls out, weaving through the remnants of the crowd.

Agnes turns, eyes gleaming, her mouth already stretched wide into a blinding smile. “Wanda! What can I do for you?”

“Have you seen the boys? Or Y/N?” Wanda tries to keep the edge out of her voice.

“Oh, the boys are at my place! They heard I got a new gaming console for Ralph and just couldn't resist. Begged me to let them try it out.”

Nothing about what Agnes said makes sense. “They went to your house? Without asking me?”

“Oh, you know how boys are with their toys,” Agnes rolls her eyes. “They were so excited, I didn't have the heart to say no.”

Wanda frowns. She knows her children well—they're adventurous but always inform her or you before taking off. “They should've asked for my permission,” Wanda says.

Agnes waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud. They're safe and sound, having the time of their lives.”

“That's not the point,” Wanda snaps.

Agnes laughs, head thrown back, and it makes Wanda's skin prickle. “Come on, dear. It's Halloween. Let them have a little fun.”

Wanda takes a deep breath. “It's getting late. I'd like to bring them home now.”

“Of course, of course,” Agnes says softly, her hand resting briefly on Wanda's arm. “I’ll drive you over.”

Wanda climbs into Agatha’s car, her eyes still darting around, the unease in her chest growing tighter despite having an answer about where her kids are.

“Have you heard from Y/N?” Wanda can’t help but ask again, as if hoping for a different answer this time.

Agnes glances at her sideways. “Probably still on patrol. Dedicated, that one.”

Wanda nods, but it doesn’t ease the tightness in her chest. The streets feel longer than usual, stretching out like a labyrinth. Wherever you are, she hopes you’re doing okay, and that you’re nowhere near the boundary.

They arrive at Agnes' house shortly after. Wanda’s expecting the noise of video games coming from the living room, but the house is quiet and poorly-lit. 

“After you,” Agnes says, opening the door.

Wanda steps inside, a cold breeze hitting her on the face almost immediately. 

“Boys? Billy? Tommy?”

But there’s not a sign of them. In fact, there’s no sign of anyone in the house. The gaming console sits untouched near the television, controllers neatly arranged. The silence is too loud. 

Wanda spins around to face her. “Where are they?”

Agnes closes the door behind them. “Oh, they might've wandered downstairs.”

“Which way?”

“Just through the kitchen and down the stairs,” Agnes points. 

Wanda moves toward the basement door, her footsteps muted by an old rug. She opens it and descends the creaking wooden steps. 

“Boys?” Wanda calls out.

The further she goes, the cooler the air becomes. Reaching the bottom, she finds herself in a space that doesn't match the rest of Agnes’ home. 

The basement is expansive and ancient-looking, with stone walls draped in vines whose origins Wanda can't discern. There are candles spread around, making a circular enclosure of the empty spot in the middle. The room is filled with strange artifacts—old books, glass jars containing unidentifiable substances, and objects that seem out of place in a suburban home. 

But none of that catches Wanda’s attention more than the fact that her kids are nowhere to be seen.

She turns back toward the stairs but Agnes is there, blocking her path.

“Looking for something?” Agnes asks innocently.

Wanda takes several steps back, her fists balling at her sides. “Who are you?” 

Agnes looks pleased by that question. “The name’s Agatha Harkness. Lovely to finally meet you, dear.”

—

As soon as Darcy mentioned mind control and fabricated reality, you had to get out of the car. Darcy follows suit, and you wait for the punchline, but it never comes. It sounds crazy, but then, this town has always made you feel crazy. Maybe it's not so far-fetched after all.

But what’s inconceivable is Wanda being behind all this madness.

“Wanda? My wife Wanda?” you ask weakly, knowing there’s no one—perhaps no one within a thousand miles—who shares her name.

“Yes, but not exactly,” Darcy says. “She's manipulating everything—people, places, even time. Including you.”

Including you? You don’t feel like you’re being manipulated—not exactly. But whatever this is, it’s starting to wear thin, grating at your patience.

“Is this some kind of prank? Did Agnes put you up to this?”

“I wish it were a joke,” she bemoans, sounding like she means it. “Think about it. Do you remember anything before Westview? How you got here? Your life before this?”

“Of course I do,” you insist, but as you try to recall specifics, your memories blur—faces without names, events without context.

“What's your last clear memory before moving here?”

You try to answer, but your mind keeps drawing a blank.

“Exactly,” Darcy says gently.

You shake your head. “No, this is ridiculous.”

“I know it's hard to accept, but you have to believe me. Wanda is controlling everything, and you're a part of it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you might be the only one who can stop her. The only one she'll listen to.”

“Why me?” you ask, heart pounding. “Do you even know me?”

Darcy shifts her weight under the streetlamp. “I’ve… read about you. You're Y/N, an Avenger, just like Wanda was before... before all this.”

“An Avenger?” You frown, the word sounding not entirely foreign to your tongue. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Darcy raises a brow. “You seriously don’t remember the Avengers? Earth’s mightiest heroes? You were part of a team that saved the world—multiple times.” She says it like it should trigger something, like the name alone should spark recognition. But it doesn’t. And already, you don’t like the sound of it.

You shake your head, lips pulling into a faint grimace. “Sounds like a PR stunt. If these so-called heroes are real, they shouldn't be worshipped like celebrities.”

Darcy chuckles softly. “You know what, you have a point there. But considering one of them is literally a god, it kinda leaves me, I mean us—with, you know—no choice.”

“One of them is a god?” 

“Yeah, Thor. Tall guy, wields a hammer, controls thunder. Ridiculously hot. Ring any bells?”

She might as well be describing a cartoon character. You run a hand through your hair before grabbing a fistful of it in frustration. “This is crazy.”

“It is,” Darcy agrees. “But that’s our world now, apparently.”

You take a deep breath. “If what you're saying is true—”

“I swear it is,” she insists.

“Then how did I end up here? Why would Wanda do this?”

Darcy sighs. “It’s a long story.”

You glance at your watch. It’s 11:05 in the evening. Wanda will be looking for you anytime soon.

“You have five minutes.”

—

“Where are my children?” Wanda demands, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Where are my children?” Agatha imitates her like a parrot. “My, that accent does like to play hide and seek, doesn't it?”

“Where are they?” Wanda yells, throwing her hands up in front of her, ready for the offense. She summons her powers on Agatha, but nothing happens. The shimmering crimson she relies on fails to appear. Agatha relishes in it, letting out a boisterous giggle.

“Oh, your magic’s no good here,” Agatha reveals. 

Before Wanda can react, Agatha lifts her hands, and from her fingertips erupts a swirling purple energy that crackles through the air. In an instant, the magic lashes out, snapping around Wanda's wrists and ankles. With a sharp pull, Agatha yanks her forward, the force dragging Wanda off her feet and toward the center of the room. The bindings constrict, holding her limbs in place painfully, causing Wanda to squirm.

“Didn't you notice?” Agatha smirks haughtily. “On the walls? Basic protection spell. No? Nothing? These are runes, Wanda.”

Wanda glances around, her gaze falling upon the glowing inscriptions etched into the stone but they mean nothing to her. She struggles against the magical restraints, but the more she fights, the tighter they grip.

Agatha circles her, looking very much proud of herself. “In a given space, only the witch that cast the runes can use her magic. How do you not know the fundamentals?”

Runes? Fundamentals? Wanda narrows her eyes at Agatha. “Who are you?”

Agatha smirks, tossing the question back like a live grenade. “Who are you?” she challenges, staring down the bewildered, clueless witch before her.

Confusion flashes across Wanda's face. “What are you talking about?”

Agatha starts circling her, slow, like a vulture. “You've been pulling off magic tricks that take lifetimes to master—casting illusions, transmutation, hijacking minds. All on autopilot. Without any damn training. You will tell me how you did this.”

“I didn't do anything,” Wanda protests. “I'm not—”

That seems to shatter Agatha’s last ounce of patience. She flings Wanda back and forth like a ragdoll, each toss violent and jarring, until Wanda is back where she started, gasping for breath.

“I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this pathetic daydream. But you'd rather fall apart than face your truth.”

Wanda clams up, unable to refute the other woman’s words. All of a sudden, Agatha yanks a hair from Wanda's head.

Clutching the strand, Agatha murmurs, “Revelare vitae memorias.” A purple aura envelops the hair as she weaves her spell.

Wanda tugs against the magical restraints binding her. “What are you doing?”

Agatha shrugs off the question, focused on completing her spell. She conjures a door on a previously bare wall, the surface pulsing with her energy. She flicks a strand of Wanda’s hair towards it, watching as the door swallows it and burns even brighter.

“Time for some real reruns.”

—

Darcy's theory seems just as absurd with the revelation that Wanda has been controlling the entire town this whole time.

“Faking my death and not being there for Wanda when she comes back just doesn't add up,” you say, kicking a stone as you pace in circles. Darcy sits on the pavement, watching as you wear a path in the ground.

“Why not?”

You stop pacing and look Darcy squarely in the eye. “Because I love her. She doesn't need to ‘kidnap’ me to stay with her.”

Darcy throws her hands up in exasperation, looking as lost as you feel. “Look, I don't know why Wanda brought you here! I don't know why you couldn't just be together in the real world or why she did this to Westview,” she walks closer to you. “I'm just as in the dark as you are.”

Her uncertainty only adds to your doubt. “Who are you anyway, Darcy Lewis? How did you even end up here?”

Darcy sighs, realizing she hadn't properly introduced herself or explained the situation right. “Okay, yeah, sorry. I'm…an astrophysicist. S.W.O.R.D—it’s a US government agency—contacted me more than a week ago about an anomaly in New Jersey. I was outside the Hex—this red barrier enclosing all of Westview—trying to figure out what's going on here. And then I got sucked in.”

“Sucked in? How does that happen?”

Darcy hangs back, weighing what's appropriate to share and what isn't. The image of you dying mere seconds after you emerged from the barrier seems to straddle both categories, but given the incredulous way you're looking at her—as if she's sprouted ten heads—signals your dwindling trust. If she doesn’t talk soon, she might just lose this rare opportunity to get you to their side.

She signals you to take a sit on the ground first, but you merely stare at her, waiting.  “Well, it's complicated,” Darcy starts. “But before I ended up here, I saw something you need to know.”

“Go on,” you say cautiously.

She takes a deep breath. “You were dying.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Last night, you tried to cross the boundary of the Hex,” she explains. “But as soon as you did, you started disintegrating—turning into dust.”

You stop cold. That dream where Wanda was vanishing—

Was it you all along?

Darcy continues, “We didn't know what to do, how to help you. But then the Hex started expanding—fast. I couldn't escape, and now here I am.”

You barely register her words as you try to piece together your memory of last night. Is that why you felt déjà vu on the way here? Because you've been here before? Because you've actually been outside?

Could Wanda be the reason you can't recall what Darcy claims happened last night? Has your wife really been manipulating you? Using her powers to deceive you?

“No,” you shake your head firmly. Wanda wouldn't do that to you, wouldn't impose her will on you, let alone on thousands of people.

“I'm sorry,” Darcy murmurs, her voice low. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wish I was lying, but I swear I’m not.”

“Prove it,” you demand, in a last, desperate attempt to cling to the life you've built here with Wanda, to preserve the trust you've placed in the person who means the world to you.

“Fine,” Darcy exhales sharply, pausing to think for a moment. “I got it!”

You cross your arms, waiting expectantly.

“Do you remember your assistant, Geraldine?” she asks.

The fact that Darcy knows about her already turns your stomach. It means she wasn't lying about the broadcasts outside, where people have been monitoring the situation all this time.

You nod, unable to speak. The fear grips you so tightly you worry you might lose the dinner you had just an hour ago.

“Geraldine isn't who you think she is. Her real name is Monica Rambeau. She's an agent from S.W.O.R.D., sent here to investigate what's happening inside Westview.”

“That doesn't make sense. I've known Geraldine for months—”

“Have you?” Darcy counters gently. “Think about it. Can you recall anything about her life outside of work? Her family? Where she lives?”

You open your mouth to respond but realize you can't summon any details. It's as if those memories are just... missing. 

Just like every other little detail in your life.

“I… I can’t—”

Darcy nods sympathetically. “That's because you’re all just playing a role here. Monica tried to reach out to her, to help her see what's real, but Wanda forced her out of this reality.”

Geraldine's resignation is a vague memory, nothing more. If Wanda has been pulling the strings, she's been selective with the memories she's allowed you to keep. That much is certain.

And you’re conflicted. No, that’s not quite right—you’re overwhelmed. You feel betrayed, most prominently. But beneath that, there’s guilt. Deep down, you’re troubled by the thought of how much pain Wanda must have endured to go to such lengths. It pains you too, knowing she suffered so greatly. If this isn't going away anytime soon, that means she's still hurting. And if you're going to agree to help Darcy figure this out, you’re going to do it for Wanda’s sake, not theirs.

Making this decision would be simple if not for—

You look down, your voice barely above a whisper. “And our kids? Billy and Tommy?”

Darcy looks away. “We couldn't find any records of them,” she says. “They're not documented anywhere in Westview.”

A sinking feeling grips your chest. “They're our sons—they're real.”

Darcy doesn’t say anything. Your eyes begin to sting as you walk into the middle of the deserted road.

You're not sure how long you stood there, contemplating the plight of these innocent people and the dangers looming over your family beyond this town. You gaze at the wedding ring on your finger. Being Wanda’s wife brought you nothing but joy. Being a mother to your two boys made you feel whole. Can you really let all that go?

Just as Darcy is about to check on you, having waited a while, you catch her off guard by walking back.

“What do you need me to do?”

—

Wanda's eyes dart around. “No... not here,” she whispers, recognizing her childhood home.

She thought those memories were lost—how a seemingly ordinary evening spiraled, altering her life forever. Seeing her mama and papa’s faces is a miracle in itself. Wanda had forgotten their features, unable to carry even a photograph of them for so long.

And Pietro—god, how she's missed him. He was the last sliver of Sokovia, the last piece of home she clung to before becoming an orphan in every sense of the word.

Life was simple then. It wasn’t always comfortable or peaceful, but they were happy as long as the four of them were together. 

Wanda watches on, a helpless spectator as the mundane scene before her—an evening of sitcoms on the living room floor—is shattered by an explosion before the screen cuts to black.

She squeezes her eyes shut. When she dares to look again, devastation greets her. Her younger self and Pietro huddled under rubble, a Stark Industries missile mere feet away, its ominous beeping the only sound in the deafening silence.

Agatha muses, “You stared at that bomb, waiting for it to go off. Did you use a probability hex?”

“No, I…” Wanda blinks, her mind reeling . “It just never went off. It was defective. We didn’t know that. We were… we were trapped.”

“For how long?”

“Two days.”

Agatha hums, sizing up whether this incident had any real impact on Wanda’s recent exploits.  Despite the trauma Wanda has endured, Agatha remains skeptical, and she steers them down another bend in memory lane.

From afar, another room takes shape—the Hydra facility, where she first encountered the Infinity Stone. 

“I don’t want to go back in there.”

“The only way forward is back,” comes the terse reply.

—

Jimmy and Monica sit side by side on a surprisingly comfortable pile of hay inside one of the supply rooms of the camp, their wrists shackled behind them with cuffs this time.

“Well, at least Hayward splurged on the good hay,” Jimmy attempts at a joke, trying to twist his wrists free.

“Yeah, cause the next time I see him, I’ll be shoving them up his—” Monica bites her lip. Now’s not the time to think about all the ways she’ll make Hayward pay. Right now, their priority is getting out of these cuffs.

Reaching into his sleeve, Jimmy fumbles for a hidden pin. “Got a lockpick here. Just give me a sec—almost…”

She watches as he struggles to maneuver the pin into the cuff's lock, his fingers slipping. After several failed attempts, he lets out a frustrated huff.

“Here, let me try,” Monica says, scooting closer.

“Be my guest,” Jimmy says, sliding over the pin.

Monica grabs it, fingers deft and sure. A soft click follows. In a flash, she's free, reaching over to unlock Jimmy's cuffs.

“Impressive,” he remarks, rubbing his wrists.

“Years of field training.”

Jimmy fishes out his cellphone. “Guess they missed this in the pat-down.” He punches in a number. “Calling for backup from Quantico.”

He steps aside, murmuring into the phone, while Monica edges towards the door. She presses an ear against the rough wood, listening hard.

“Any luck?” she murmurs as he ends the call.

“They're sending a team, but we're on borrowed time,” he whispers back.

“Listen,” Monica says suddenly, holding up a hand.

Silence falls. There’s a muffled sound of chaos outside—high-pitched voices, scrambling footsteps, panicked commands. 

“Is that... fighting?” Jimmy's eyes go wide.

“Sounds like it,” Monica says. “But who would be engaging Hayward's agents out here?”

“Maybe another S.W.O.R.D. team?”

She shakes her head. “Unlikely. They trust Hayward too much to send more scouts.”

The clamor grows—a cocktail of grunts, barked orders, and the dull thud of bodies smacking the ground. And then guns firing off nearby.

“This is bad,” Jimmy mutters. “We're sitting ducks. Unarmed ducks.”

Monica's gaze sweeps the area. “We need to find something to defend ourselves.” She snags a rusted metal rod from beside a stack of crates and hands it to Jimmy. “Here.”

He grabs it, his grip firm. “Better than nothing.”

She hoists a solid-looking plank. “Stay alert.”

Suddenly, the outside noises cut off, dropping the world into unnerving stillness.

“Why did it just go quiet?” Jimmy whispers.

Monica takes an offensive stance. “I don't know, but I have a feeling we're about to find out.”

Footsteps draw near—steady, unhurried. The door handle rattles slightly.

“Get ready,” she says, positioning herself beside the door.

Jimmy nods, holding his makeshift weapon at the ready.

The door creaks open slowly, and a sliver of light spills inside. They hold their breath as the door swings wider.

A shadowy figure looms at the threshold, silhouetted against the harsh daylight. Without waiting to see if this was a friend or an enemy, Monica lunges forward, swinging her plank toward the intruder. Jimmy follows suit, thrusting his metal rod in a coordinated attack.

But the figure dodges their attack like they're made of smoke. With a fluid sidestep, you evade Monica's swing, the plank slicing harmlessly through the air. Simultaneously, you pivot gracefully, ducking under Jimmy's thrust. In one seamless motion, you sweep your leg, knocking the rod from his grasp and sending it clattering across the floor. 

Before they can regroup, you're behind Monica, coaxing her wrist until the plank clunks to the ground with a dull thud. Both agents stumble back, dumbstruck.

Monica’s about to charge again when you raise your hands. 

“Easy,” you say hurriedly. “I’m not here to fight.”

Jimmy looks at you with utter shock and awe. “How did you—”

You smile thinly. “No time for explanations.”

Monica squints, peering harder. Something clicks. “Wait... Are you Y/N?” she murmurs in disbelief.

Recognition dawns on Jimmy’s face too. “It is you!”

You nod slowly. “I am.”

Monica keeps searching your face, like she's double-checking if it's really you. There are small differences between this you and the one in the Hex—your hair's shorter, framing a face that's sharper with…age. The lines around your eyes are deeper, and there's a hardness in them now that wasn’t there before.

“Wait, how did you escape the Hex unharmed?” Jimmy asks. “The last time you tried, it looked like you weren’t going to make it…”

You shake your head. “I didn't escape from Westview.”

“What do you mean?” Monica asks. “You're inside the Hex with Wanda, aren't you?"

“No,” you reply evenly. “That wasn’t—isn’t me.”

Just then, footsteps approach from behind. You spin around to see Clint, his bow slung casually over his shoulder.

“Well, that was quick,” you note.

He smirks lightly. “It would've been quicker if I weren’t so rusty.”

“Clint, is it true what she's saying?” Monica asks.

Clint nods solemnly. “Yeah. I made a rookie mistake by not considering the possibility that the Y/N in Westview and out here in the real world aren’t one and the same.”

Jimmy looks baffled. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“When I saw Y/N on that broadcast, I assumed she was inside the Hex. But when we saw the one from Westview disintegrating after she emerged from the barrier, that’s when I realized that something else was going on here.”

Jimmy's face screws up in confusion. “Then who was that?”

You lean back against the wall, a wistful look in your eye. “Based on what Clint told me, she's both me and not me.”

Jimmy throws up his hands. “I'm getting confused.”

“That's Wanda's version of me—the person she left behind five years ago,” you say.

Monica's eyes stretch wide as the penny drops. Is Wanda that powerful to be capable of what you’re implying?

“When you say she's Wanda's version...” She trails off, not confident to finish the thought.

“Wanda created her,” you say, as casual as if you were commenting on the weather. “Wanda doesn't know I'm still alive.”

—

“Exposure to an Infinity Stone,” Agatha muses, eyeing the memory of Wanda clad in a grimy gown that the Hydra facility dressed her into. She grimaces slightly. “That explains some of it, but not all.”

With a subtle gesture of her hand, another door materializes—a portal to another place, another time. Another memory—but this time, not a painful one. Wanda doesn't hesitate this time and walks towards it. There’s no choice in the matter, really. Might as well get it over with.

Behind the door is a well-lit kitchen. The countertops were sleek and clean, aside from an open jar of peanut butter and a half-empty jar of jelly sitting next to a loaf of bread. A butter knife rested on a plate smeared with both spreads, and a glass of water sat nearby, condensation pooling in a faint ring on the stone surface.

You were standing at the large kitchen island, carefully cutting the corners of your sandwich when Vision phased directly through the wall to your left.

“Jesus!” you yelled in surprise, the knife slipping from your hand and clattering against the plate.

“Well, well,” Agatha drawls, leaning back with an amused smirk as she turns to Wanda. “I must admit, I never pictured her as the type to take the Lord’s name in vain. Your wife looks like such a proper lady here in Westview, dear.”

Wanda remains motionless, her entire focus on you as this memory comes rushing back to her.  You weren’t even friends yet, and Wanda had already noticed how distant you kept yourself from her. It wasn’t hostility, exactly, but it was clear you didn’t like her much back then. And she couldn’t blame you.

“My apologies,” Vision said.

You scolded him for announcing himself that way before he formally introduced himself to you. With a sigh, you told him you already knew who he was. Without missing a beat, Vision asked what food you were preparing.

“It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“The coloration is intriguing,” Vision noted. “I haven't encountered many purple foods in my lifetime.”

To Agatha, the exchange seems utterly trivial—and not to mention, boring. Yet, it only makes her more curious about why this particular memory has surfaced.

“Speaking of food,” Vision began, “Miss Maximoff hasn’t eaten. Nothing in over twelve hours.”

You were just about to take your first bite, but the mention of Wanda made you freeze.

“And why is that my problem?”

“Given that her quarters are adjacent to yours, I thought you might be concerned,” Vision said.

“Concerned? About the person who messed with my head? Hard pass.”

“Oh,” Agatha chimes in, continuing her unsolicited commentary. “Was your wife not particularly fond of you in the beginning?”

Wanda shakes her head slowly. “She hated me.”

Agatha’s grin widens. “And that drew you to her? Well, aren’t we a little kinky.”

The memory continues with Vision gently reprimanding you about the poisonous effects of resentment. You brushed it off with a sharp retort, making it abundantly clear just how little you cared.

Vision didn’t press the matter further. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me.”

He turned to leave, this time opting for the doorway instead of phasing through the wall. 

“Wait,” you called out, piquing Agatha’s interest.

Vision stopped, looking back at you expectantly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, just... take her something to eat. Here.” You shoved the sandwich plate toward him.

“It might be more meaningful if you delivered it yourself.”

“Yeah, that's not happening.”

He accepted the plate. “I will relay the gesture.”

“Don’t,” you rushed out. “I mean, don’t tell her it’s from me.”

Agatha scoffs like she’s watching a bad rom-com. “Enemies to lovers. My personal favorite,” she says, smirking. “Two people who can’t stand each other but still do nice things behind each other’s backs. Adorable, really.”

“She didn’t know I was there, watching the whole exchange,” Wanda says softly. “I went back to my room that night, eagerly waiting for Vision to bring me that sandwich. I was so hungry.” Her voice grows even quieter as she adds, “Y/N was the first person to do anything for me after my brother died. And she didn’t even like me.”

Agatha snaps her fingers, then gives Wanda a hard look. “Here’s the punchline, honey: you come back from the Snap—five years gone in a blink for you—and guess what? Y/N didn’t make it.”

Wanda looks stunned by the reminder that in the five years she was gone, she couldn’t shield you, couldn’t stop your demise. Clint kept silent on how it happened, and even when Wanda defiantly probed his mind, she found no clues about your death.

“She was gone,” Agatha says, circling around to meet Wanda's gaze. “But you wanted her back.”

Almost reflexively, Wanda nods. “I did,” she murmurs. “I wanted her back.”

The segment shifts seamlessly to a serene lakeside setting. It's a somber day—the day of Tony Stark's funeral. Wanda of this memory stood alone, gaze lost on the serene water, while members of the Avengers paid their subdued respects to Pepper Potts in a slow procession.

It’s Clint who noticed she’d been standing there a long time already. 

“Hey,” he murmured, the nippy weather forcing his hands in his pockets as he joined Wanda’s side. “You holding up okay?”

Wanda smiled faintly. “As well as can be expected.”

He nodded, sharing her view of the gray lake. “It’s tough, losing someone like Tony. Feels like we’ve been bleeding pieces of ourselves.”

Wanda sighed. “But it's not just Tony, isn’t it?” This funeral should’ve also been for everyone they lost. Natasha, Vision…

You.

“Counting our losses would just do us more harm than good, kid,” Clint said.

She gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. “I just... I miss them.”

Clint's hand found her shoulder. “I get it. I miss them too.” 

Wanda drew a ragged breath, but these days, it felt like no amount of air was enough.  

“All I've ever known is loss,” she whispered. “You'd think I'd be used to it by now, that it wouldn't hurt as much as when I lost my parents, or Pietro. But this…” Her voice faltered. “Losing Y/N cut the deepest.”

Clint squeezed her shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting but Wanda felt nothing. 

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“I shouldn’t have been brought back,” Wanda said, stepping back, causing Clint’s hand to fall away.

“Don't say that. Y/N would've done everything for you to come back,” he said.

She turned to him, tears brimming in her eyes. “And I would've done everything I could for her to still be here—with me.”

Wanda watches herself in the memory, turning her back on Clint without a word. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t pay her respects to Stark’s widow. She slipped into the driver’s seat of the car you used to own after Clint turned it over to her.

The road led her to a quiet cemetery not too far away. She parked along a gravel path and walked among the rows of headstones until she reached yours. Seeing your name etched in stone brought a fresh wave of grief crashing over her.

Dropping to her knees, Wanda was wracked with sobs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. She cried until the tears refused to come, her body spent from the depth of her grief. Hours seemed to pass before she finally rose, shaky and streaked with tears. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and headed back to the car. Slumping into the driver's seat, she allowed herself a few more moments of inaction. In search of some small comfort, she flipped open the glove compartment and fished out your favorite CD.

As she rummaged through the assorted items, her fingers brushed against an unfamiliar envelope tucked at the back. Intrigued, she pulled it out and examined it. Her name was written on the front in your unmistakable handwriting.

With hands that trembled like leaves, she tore it open. Inside, there was a simple, elegant ring—the one she bought for you—and a folded brochure. It’s a map of a small New Jersey town. A plot of land was circled in aggressive red, and in a heart-shaped scribbled below, you've written, Where Maximoff will torment me for the rest of our days.

A smile, bittersweet and crooked, crawled its way to her face. The idea of a future you’d dared to dream together flooded her with both joy and heartache. 

Compelled by a sudden urge to see this dream firsthand, Wanda started the car and set off towards New Jersey. The journey passed in a blur, her mind occupied with thoughts of what could have been. Hours later, she arrived at the ghostly town, its structures forgotten in time, lagging behind the rest of the world by at least a decade.

Following the map, she drove to the marked lot—a field overrun with wildflowers and framed by a quaint white picket fence. She walked to the center of the lot, your ring clenched tight in her fist. As the sun dipped low, it draped everything in a golden light. Right then, the full weight of her pain hit her like a freight train.

And when it happened, it started with a tingling sensation at the back of her neck, a subtle prickling that grew into an all-consuming fervor. Beneath her, the earth whispered of transformations, subtle yet insistent, as reality bended, acquiescing to the sheer force of her will. 

Her powers gradually rose, a resurgent tide swelling from the emptiness that had, until this moment, consumed her. She released a primal scream as she unknowingly reshaped her surroundings—houses and streets morphed, relationships and identities changed—all molded from her memories and desires. Even the very colors of reality altered around her.

But she paid no heed to the unprecedented heights of her abilities. Her only focus was the release—the desperate emptying of her being, striving to purge the agonizing pain she’d felt since discovering you were gone.

With each exertion, she felt a piece of herself ebbing away, her essence—bright and golden—intertwining with the magic, seeping into the reality she molded. The pain was exquisite, an acute contrast to the numbness that had pervaded her existence since her return. She welcomed it, the pain confirming her existence, her agency, her power after so much had been taken from her.

As the final tendrils of red weaved the last of her into this new Westview, she felt a climactic release, as if she’d finally exhaled a burden she could no longer bear. She collapsed, the world spinning dizzyingly around her, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The town pulsed—tentatively, like the first steps of a newborn—with life, a life that was both not hers and wholly of her making.

She lay on the ground, which had metamorphosed from the soft, dewy texture of soil to the cool, smooth tiles of a pristine living room. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, bracing for the afterlife, when—

Wanda gasped, her eyes instantly watering at the sight of you, unchanged, just as she remembered before the snap, before the world fell apart. Disbelief coursed through her, yet she couldn’t look away from the miracle of you, standing there within her reach.

“Wanda,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Extending a hand, you helped her to her feet, her left hand—adorned with a simple gold band—shaking as it met yours. 

“Welcome home.”

A fragile smile began to trace her lips for the first time since her return. With your hand in hers, she stood at the threshold of her new home, crafted from all of her pieces.

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the April 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read over 100 fics total, and these were the cream of the crop.

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

~

A place you can never go by det395

Word Count: 84,596 Summary: When things don’t go according to plan, Hannibal makes a wish. He finds himself a year-and-a-half in the past and seemingly given another chance with Will. His feelings about the situation only get more complicated when he realizes he may not have completely lost access to his old timeline after all. A Digestivo canon divergence.

If you follow me, you probably saw me already raving about this fic. This was so fucking good, holy fucking shit. And also heartbreaking. Made me think a lot about the nature of reality and what does it mean for something to be "real." Plus, I really love fics that explore their shared mind palace because I genuinely think that is one of the more underexplored aspects of their relationship. Definitely heavy on the angst, but there is a happy ending!

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 82,427 Summary: Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.

GIVE ME MORE THAN FIVE STARS PLEASE. I am obsessed with this fic. I've mostly stayed clear of time travel fics (aside from, you know, the one right above this) because the execution can be hit or miss, but let me fucking tell you. This was a god damn home run. There's a little bit of angst, but then there's also a chapter where Will challenges Hannibal that he wouldn't have been able to seduce him while Will was still working in Louisiana fixing boat motors. And obviously Hannibal decides to take that challenge.

Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles

Word Count: 12,400 Summary: Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

Dirty. Talk. In. FRENCH. Holy shit. Okay this was excellent. EXCELLENT. Perfect characterizations, and wonderful dialogue. Wow. Also, I love trains. Who doesn't love trains?

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 130,185 Summary: If Will and Hannibal hadn't gone into their respective careers, they would have become porn stars.

I had my doubts about a pornstar AU, but I've really enjoyed everything else by this author and it was over 100k, so I gave it a shot! And WOW. The characterizations of both Will and Hannibal were spot on and believable. A good mix of fluff and angst, and the author clearly put a lot of thought into the porn scenes. Tbh I'm probably going to reread this shortly.

Pavlova by nbcravenstag

Word Count: 33,369 Summary: It’s not like Hannibal didn’t know that Will was hiding something. It was after the third body drop a week ago that it became clear that Will had a secret that somehow involved the case, one he wasn’t willing to share yet, not even with Hannibal. At 6:43 AM, Will had texted Hannibal that a fourth body had been found and that he was on his way to the scene with Jack. At 8:06 PM, Will had stepped into Hannibal’s office, thirty-six minutes past his appointment time, and practically shouted “I used to be a stripper!” as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow him to. Hannibal Lecter, though not phased by much in life, has never been entirely able to predict Will Graham, but this is just… getting out of control. Alternatively, the FBI is hunting a serial killer targeting male strippers, and Will decides to throw himself into the fray. Hannibal is beyond pleased.

An AU where Will was a stripper in college and now he's working a case where he can be live bait as a stripper? Shut the fuck up. Mostly told from Hannibal's perspective, and it's just *chefs kiss*. Who knew Will giving Hannibal a lap dance would be so HOT. (I could have guessed.)

Lessons In Submission by wyldefire

Word Count: 5,173 Summary: Hannibal was stubborn, independent, and Will had always loved that about him, but there were times, times like these, in the midst of heat, in the midst of such a thorough breeding, when lessons in submission were necessary.

My only thought at the end of this was, "Shut the whole fuck up" in the best way possible. Smut. Just all smut.

A Very Special Guest by LesBeanBurrito

Word Count: 56,660 Summary: Season 1 AU in which Will stays for Hannibal’s dinner party after bringing the bottle of wine at the end of 1X07 Sorbet. Embarrassed and Sassy Will Graham meets Smitten Hannibal Lecter.

I LOVE a good season 1 AU and this was checking all of the boxes for me! There's a secret relationship, Hannibal actually gets Will treated for his encephalitis, Will finds out about Hannibal, etc. Very much loved the plot, and the characterizations were spot on.

lover to your nightmare (look what you made of me) by merrythoughts and ReallyMissCoffee

Word Count: 123,367 Summary: Driving back home, it’s then he reflects on Hannibal asking him to run away that night. To forgo their plans altogether, to slip away. [Canon divergent. Will confesses his betrayal and asks Hannibal to run away with him, but Will has a plan of his own...]

You want dark!Will mixed in with some incredibly jealous and possessive Hannigram? Hooo boy do I have a fic for you! The ending was a little abrupt, but it was the perfect mix of gut-wrenching angst and toxicity + smoking hot smut. I genuinely had to stop and focus on my breathing more than once.

On the Lam by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 63,992 Summary: Post-Fall (Hannibal)season 4Crack Treated SeriouslyOn the RunWill Graham Discovers FanfictionExplicit Sexual Contentsexual identity crisisThat's Not Really A CrisisWill Graham is HannisexualMurder HusbandsHomophobiaMurder of a HomophobeHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterPower Bottom Will Grahamthey love each other your honorvery meta

This was such a fun read – I love the implication that hannigram fanfiction exists and it's all there for Will to accidentally discover. I adore this author and just thoroughly enjoyed how Will learned a thing or two about himself by reading smutty fics (same dude).

Golden Promises by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 68,488 Summary: Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 01Alternate Universe - Canon DivergenceEpisode: s01e07 SorbetHallucinations?Will Hopes SoLELOplugSexuality CrisisThat Ends Up Not Being A CrisisWill Graham Has EncephalitisHannibal Gets Will TreatmentDeveloping RelationshipWill Graham's Dogs - FreeformBonding over fooddoting hannibalEventual SmutHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterAlana DisapprovesRimmingOral SexBottom Hannibal LecterTop Will GrahamBottom Will GrahamTop Hannibal LecterWill Graham KnowsNon-Consensual Drug UseWill Gives Him Shit For ItMurder HusbandsCannibalismis that tag even necessary?Hannibal Lecter Loves Max

This was fluffier than I typically read, but I told y'all I love this author. Pretty much no angst, and the smut, as always, was next level. Also, the idea that Hannibal would wear a solid gold butt plug to his dinner parties had me laughing before I even started reading.

What Hatches by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 107,847 Summary: There is a village, nestled on the edge of an ancient forest where it is always winter. Few of the townsfolk ever venture into it, except for one lonely hunter named Will Graham. A loner who makes his living selling stag meat and spends more time with dogs than people, he finds his life changing when he comes face-to-face with a magical beast, one that he cannot get away from, and isn’t even sure he really wants to.

What started out as a curiosity about the monsterfucking tag on AO3 brought me to one of the most unique and interesting hannigram AUs I've read??? I'm as surprised as you are, if not more. I adored this fic and I loved how both Will and Hannibal were characterized and the plot and the smut (oh my god, the smut) and the ending? Phew. Go read this.

lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 35,733 Summary: Will starts going to a nude beach that happens to be for gay men, even though he considers himself straight.

This was highly enjoyable. I LOVE AUs that manage to keep the characters true to canon. Also nude beaches. Hannigram and nude beaches. Eating ass and public sex with some actual plot sprinkled in. Say LESS.

Now, What Should We Do Next? by HigherMagic

Word Count: 51,116 Summary: Kinktober 2018

Smut. All smut. I showed this fic to a friend who has literally never read fanfiction, let alone Hannigram, before and she is now hooked. So. Do with that what you will. And it's so clear that this author has actual, real-life experience with kink and it comes across so well! Bonus point: there is also an equally good sequel.

To Mend With Gold by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened

Word Count: 98,863 Summary: Will and Hannibal have been living as a gay married couple for three years, but they haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed. Will Graham has a reckoning, one way or another.

THIS WAS TENDER. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, I loved it. Molly showed up with Will's dogs and decided she wasn't going to turn them in, which was a little weird, but I really loved this fic. Just them learning how to be with each other. Also EXCELLENT marathon smut scenes. Like yesssss, of course they can each cum like three times in a row.

A Clutch at Balance by Deverauxs_Disease

Word Count: 25,466 Summary: When Will Graham storms into Hannibal's house muttering about kissing Alana Bloom, the good doctor makes Will an offer: Pretend to date Hannibal in order to prove to Alana that Will is not only stable but capable of being in a relationship. When Alana is convinced Will is the man of her dreams, Hannibal will step aside and Will can get his girl.

Y'all know I love fake dating that all of a sudden, whoops! Isn't so fake anymore! Sprinkle in some jealous and possessive Hanni and Will? I'm sold. Say less.

~

And that's a wrap on this month! See ya next time!!!

[sebscore]

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head. 

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was. 

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards. 

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.'' 

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2? 

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend. 

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.'' 

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.'' 

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season. 

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history. 

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one. 

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard. 

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail. 

They were wearing the same outfit. 

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?'' 

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit. 

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance. 

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed. 

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside. 

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace. 

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend. 

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing. 

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time. 

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue. 

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou. 

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded. 

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care. 

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him. 

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat. 

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk. 

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N. 

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie. 

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?'' 

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.'' 

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision. 

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him. 

''Valtteri?'' 

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question. 

''Lando?'' 

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun. 

''Anyway, Daniel?'' 

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads. 

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.'' 

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person. 

Sir Lewis Hamilton. 

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion. 

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.'' 

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him. 

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind. 

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.'' 

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''. 

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face. 

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated. 

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words. 

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock. 

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?'' 

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening. 

''Y/N!'' 

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve. 

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.'' 

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.'' 

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier. 

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

[scarletwinterxx]

wait for your love - haechan scenario

hellloooo so this one is a request. I've mentioned it before, i'm still not the best at writing angst but I try😅 when i saw this request, a few scenes immediately popped in my head. Hope you like it🥺 also I was listening to We Can't Be Friends by Ariana on repeat while writing this.

Also a short anecdote, when I saw nct dream last year during Sorry, Heart stage I literally bawled my eyes out. Like full on ugly sobbing in my seat haha I was okay during the first verse but when it got to Haechan's turn to sing the chorus the tears just went falling like waterfalls

ANYWAYSSSSSS

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What are we then?"

Those words shouldn't scare Haechan as much as it does. He hates it too. He hates how he can't say it to you but he doesn't want to let you go either.

He hates this grey area the two of you are in now.

"We're us. Isn't that enought?" he asks back

"For fuck's sake, we've been seeing each other for what? like 2 years now? And until now you still can't commit? I can't call you my boyfriend, you don't like it when people ask if we're dating"

"Because it's none of their fucking business"

"Well it's my business, I'm asking you right now, what the hell am I to you?" you stare at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer.

At this point hearing him say you don't mean anything to him would make more sense than the usual silence he'd give you.

"Baby, please I don't want to argue" he mumbles

"See, this is what you do all the time. I'm not a play toy. I'm not some past time you can call whenever you're bored, Haechan. We're adults now. I've invested my time, my feelings, a fraction of my life to you. For this. And you can't even answer me, is that too much to ask? Am I too much?"

You look at him, waiting for him to argue back. You didn't know it was this draining to be in a relationship or situationship or whatever it is you have with him. At some point you got tired of asking him what this all means. When it's clear he's not going to answer you, you stood up from your seat

"I can't do this" you whispered

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do what you're asking, Haechan" you speak clearer this time

He waits a few moments, letting the words sink in.

"What do you mean? I thought you said... you said we can"

With every word he tries not to show he's breaking right and the only thing keeping him together is you, and here you are about to slip through his fingers.

"We can't keep all promises, right? Like how you promised you'll try. This isn't trying."

"Baby-" "Don't" you cut him off. You know it will be a lot harder to walk away if you hear him call you that, it's already hard on you now.

"This is me letting you go" were your last words to him before walking away. You wipe the few tears that escaped, plastering a very fake smile before taking the first step away.

One of many you'd try to take just to get away from this heartbreak.

You would want to say that's not how it ended, that he changed his mind and finally mustered the courage to call you and say what he's really thinking. You want to say that he came the next day and surprised you, knocking on your door holding sunflowers for you.

But no.

After that day you never heard from him again. When you got the (unspoken) message that he'll never try to reach out and fix things between the two of you, you blocked him on everything. Your friends didn't ask questions, you went on with your life. Trying your best to bury and let that part of your story go.

From spending every day and most nights together to being strangers. You acted like he never existed to cover up the hurt you're feeling.

It's been over a year since that. You haven't really cried about it. Not even the day after he left. It's like you're just a shell now. You locked everything in a pandora box in your head, to be forgotten for the rest of time.

"Hey did you hear Dreamers new song?" your roommate asks the moment she steps through the door. You were sitting on the dinning chair, stacks of works and your laptop infront of you

She hears the song playing in the background, "Of course you have, it's good right?" she smiles

"Mhm, I like it"

"Sorry, Heart. Definitely an anthem for the broken hearted" she says withouth meaning out, "I meant like you know it's a sad song" she adds

You chuckle, she probably thinks this song is very fitting for you and you kinda agree with her.

"Anyways, I'm going to the lounge later. Want to come with?"

"Sounds good, I actually need to go out, stretch my legs and get some fresh air"

"Okay, let's leave after lunch"

You met with other friends at the lounge, chatting and sharing notes together. It was a good way to pass time. These days you find that it's best to keep yourself occupied so as not to think about things you'd rather not think about. You kept yourself busy. Finding random hobbies, fixation. For a while you liked running after class, then you got into baking, then crocheting. Activities that keeps you busy, distracted long enough not to remember.

One day you were at a record store, your newest hobby. Browsing for a new record to take home. Today out of the days you forgot to bring your headphones so you hum along the music playing in the store.

While reading the back of the record you were holding, you hear it.

A familiar voice you haven't heard in a long time, a voice you didn't think you'd hear again.

Your head shoots up, looking at the other side of the aisle.

You'd know his voice anywhere. You can be inside the loudest room and you'd still be able to single out his voice.

There he stands right across you, signing out your favorite bands newest song while he has his headphones on. Probably not realizing he's singing a bit too loud.

When Haechan felt someone staring at him, he looks up not expecting you to be looking back at him. He blinks a few times, comtemplating if this was all a dream or he's going crazy and started to hallucinate.

Immediately you put back the record you were holding and ran out the store. Once again leaving Haechan behind.

You're already far by the time he takes the steps to follow you, thinking this time he's not going to make the same mistake but you were already gone.

He knows you blocked him. Of course he tried to call you but his efforts were shut down when he couldn't reach you or his messages won't deliver.

Similar to you, he tried to find distractions. To drown out the thoughts, he drinks, goes out to parties, too many nights he drunk texted you, saying how much he missed you only to see it in the morning unsent. Most of the time there's music directly blasting through his ears. Music being his only escape from his own thoughts, if he's left long enough it's like his own mind is beating him up.

That's how he got into collecting records. He was on the look out for this new record so he decided to drop by the store that day. He didn't expect to see you there.

Out of all the places he'd see you again.

He's not going to lie, he imagined this moment many times before. Even rehearsed what he'd say to you when he see you again but now that it happened he just froze on the spot.

Just like that it's like he back in his room, watching you walk out his door for the last time. He's back to square one.

It's been weeks and no sign of Haechan. It's a good thing, you think.

Also you've been subtly avoiding going to public places just in case you accidently see him again. You thought you're ready, but the moment you saw him it's like all of these emotions you've repressed since you left came back again.

Your roommate finally convinced you to come out. A few of you were gathering for karaoke night. You almost said no again but you need a night out, one more night in your room might just drive you crazy.

"Oh my gosh, girlie you're hereeeee" one of your friends squeals when she saw you walk in the room

"I'm here as a spectator, not to sing" you tell her, accepting the bottle of beer she hands you

"Alright by me, you better cheer the loudest when I sing"

You got invited to karaoke night. A couple of students from campus got together tonight to hang out for chill night. Even though you don't really sing, you do enjoy hanging out with your friends.

You were talking to another friend when suddenly you hear the intro to a familiar song being sung by a familiar voice.

왜 이리도 쉽게 토라지는지? (Why do I become mad so easily) 내 맘이 작아서 너무 한심하지? (It's pathetic that my heart is so small right?)

You look over the makeshift stage to see Haechan holding the mic, singing out one of your favorite songs.

어떻게 널 볼까? (How can I see you?) 밤새 뒤척인 맘의 조각들 반짝이지 않아 (I toss and torn all night The fragments of my heart don't shine) 난 알고 있는데 내가 할 수 있는 건 (I know it, what I can do is) "I'm sorry", 그 말뿐이란 걸 (Only those words)

Before the chorus starts, Haechan looks through the crowd finding you. He looks straight at you as if he's singing every word to you.

Words you wished you heard from him a long time ago.

Tell me why I let you down Any chance I get, I'm breaking down 잘못인 걸 다 아는데 (아는데), 왜 힘든 걸까? (I know I'm at fault but why is it tiring?) To tell you that I'm sorry, heart

For the rest of the song the two of you look at each other. You listen to him, imagining it was really him who was saying those words and not through the song.

When he finished, you stood up to go outside and get some fresh air.

Of course he's here. Luck was never on your side and fate seems to like playing jokes on you.

Haechan watches your back, giving the mic to the next person before following you out. You hear the footsteps behind you, knowing who it might be without looking back.

You're now at the rooftop of the building, a fewer people were hanging out here than inside. Feeling another presence beside you but they haven't said anything yet.

Even though you already know who it was, you don't say anything instead you get another beer from a nearby cooler and passing it over to Haechan without a word.

For a while neither of you said anything, watching the view in front of you.

“I get flashbacks when I see you and not the good kind” you finally speak out loud

“You’re saying that like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you” he snickers, holding the bottle up to his lips to drink his beer

He really didn’t think you’d talk to him or even acknowledge his existence at all. But now here you are, at some rooftop at a party he least expected to see you. 

He’s trying not to be too obvious but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way the light hit your face, or how the cold breeze was hitting his skin and yours. The moment he arrived he was kind of hoping to find you here tonight. He knew some of your friends were coming, you did use to have the same circle of friends until he started to distance himself.

He's glad though knowing you found good people who'll be there for you.

He's looking at you again, not being able to stop himself. It was at this moment he realized. Realized something he never thought he was ever capable of ever doing again. 

Feeling. Loving. Falling and accepting. 

The sound of horns from cars and the murmuring people in the background, the city lights in front the two of you and the stars as the witnesses. Witness for something that’s about to unfold.

It was scary. This new found knowledge scared him. 

In the past it was scary to him to even think about being tied down. To be committed to someone. All of this comes from his fear of failing. He wanted to tell you that before, the last day before you ended things between the two of you he wanted to let you know the reason why he couldn’t set things straight with you was because he was scared of letting you down. He was scared you might feel trapped. 

It's wasn't you who was too much for him. He was the one who felt like he was too much for you. He thought he was being too fast, too careless. His fears got the better of him, costing him a future with you.

You walked away and everything in his life got worse. Like the only light in his life was extinguished. 

Right now feels like that one chance to get things right. Even though he still feels scared, this time he’s willing to take that risk for you.

There are other things to be scared of, like your gaze. It was the way you were looking at him.

Like you can just consume all of him with those eyes. How you’re saying a thousand words with them without saying a single syllable.

One look into his own eyes and he's ready to surrender everything to you.

“Do you really want to hear my answer to that or are you still emotionally unavailable?” you ask, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“At what point did you realize you liked me? Like really liked me?” he asked instead, all he got was a laugh from you. You were laughing out loud like it was the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. 

“We were watching a movie, I mumbled something under my breath. I think it was something along the lines of ‘oh that’s so cute’, talking to myself. Then I felt you hold my hand, you kissed it before holding it in yours for the rest of the movie. It’s not the grandest gesture but at that moment I felt so content. It was all I wanted but I knew you didn’t think the same way” you smile sadly recalling that memory. Giving him an answer, wondering why you did.

"I guess I never said sorry, I'm sorry"

You shrug, taking another swig from your drink. "What's done is done. I would say no hard feelings but I kinda do hate you for what you did"

"Good. I'd be sadder if you said you didn't care. Hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference" he says

"Was that what you felt for me before? Indifference?" you can't help but ask, in your mind you're not sure if you're ready to hear his answer but it's too late to take it back

He shakes his head, drinking the rest of his drink before standing straight to face you

"I felt more for you, more than I ever said. In that I was wrong, I admit. I should've told you. It might be no use in telling you now, but I did feel something for you. I was being stupid and was too scared to admit it"

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because I realized not having you in my life is scarier than the thoughts in my head. I was too scared of my own mind, I sacrificed you instead when I shouldn't have. I could've told you. I wish I told you"

You listen to him, letting it sink in. For so long you asked just what went wrong, what you could've done differently or what would've happened if you stayed.

"I waited, I waited until you told me you liked me. But the more I waited, the more I started to not like myself. I knew I deserved more but I stayed because I wanted to be with you. You were always first to me" you say

Hearing you say those words breaks something in him. He did like you, he still likes you. Haechan has always kept a safe distance from everyone, you were the only exception.

"I'm glad we got to talk" you say to him with a smile, then you walk back inside.

This time Haechan didn't follow you because he knows this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Oh my gosh, so that's what happened between the two of you?"

After that conversation with Haechan, you went back to your place and called it a night. The next day your roommate noticed you were staring blankly into space, out of concern she asked you what's wrong. You told her all that happened in the past 24 hours then you told her all about your history with Haechan.

"Yep, I haven't seen him around campus that much after that"

"You know, one of his friends is my blockmate and we go to the same gym. I heard he did an exchange program for a year, maybe that's why you haven't seen him around" she tells you

"Oh really, he did mention it before. Maybe he went through with it" you mumbled

"So you guys were like in a situationship then?"

"I guess so. We weren't exclusive, but he was the only guy I was seeing for like 2 years. Remember when I was barely home"

"Oh! That was him? He used to like send food here all the time whenever you were busy studying"

"What?"

"Oh my god I forgot to tell you that? yea this was like when you guys were a thing. During exam season or when you're busy with reports and stuff, he'd drop off food for you" she tells you

"I thought you had those delivered"

"Girl no, half of the time he leaves it at our door. The only reason I know is because I caught him one time and he fessed up"

No, you definitely didn't know that.

Haechan never told you. He never told you anything. At some point you thought it was better to not ask instead of being met with silence as a reply.

One thing you know though is he's the type to take action rather than say it. You won't be surprised if he did it before, he might not be good at expressing himself but he never passed the chance to make you feel like you're the only girl in his world.

It feels like that was another lifetime ago, that at some point in your life you'd rather be the backburner than totally lose him.

Seeing him again was no help. It's like you spiraled down again. You thought he didn't have this effect on you anymore but you were wrong. You'd be lying if you say you haven't thought of him since you saw him last.

What you didn't know was Haechan felt exactly the same. He's trying to think of a way to reach out to you without seeming to needy, he didn't want you to think he's forcing himself back into your life.

Another week has passed and still no sign of you. He decided to get drinks with his friends, he's a few drinks in when he decided to call it an early night. This really wasn't where he wanted to be.

He's not sure where he wants to be. All he knows is his night would be a thousand times better if he sees you, even just a glimpse.

On his walk back to his place, he plucked a branch from a random plant. Picking out the leaves one by one, leaving a trail behind him.

You're on your way back from the library, deciding to get some midnight snacks first. You noticed the scattered leaves on the road, chuckling at the sight. The more steps you take, you slowly realized it's the same path to your apartment.

You slowed down, looking around to check if anybody was close to you but the street is empty. You grab your phone in your pocket just in case, while you hold your keys with the other hand.

When you're nearing your front door, you see someone sitting at the steps. Head lying low, you can't even see his face but you'd know that brown mop of hair anywhere.

"Haechan?" you called out for him

Haechan looks up, seeing you walking towards him. At first he thinks he's dreaming, he wipes his eyes to clear his vision. Even pinched his arm to check if this was real.

You're here.

He's here.

"What are you doing here?" you asked once you're standing right in front of him

"I grabbed drinks with Yangyang and Jeno, I swear I was walking home. I guess I got confused" he mumbles, now holding a branch with no leaves on it.

You look at it, then looked back at the trail of leaves behind you.

"Do you want to come in? Go drink some water or coffee first before you head back" you offered

"Are you sure?" he asks back, standing up from the steps

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't. Let's go inside, it's getting chilly"

He steps aside to let you go first, following behind you. The elevator ride up to your floor was quiet, even after going in your apartment Haechan didn't say a word.

"Here, have some water. I can make coffee but it's too late to drink it, do you want ramen or something?" you ask him while getting the snacks you got out of the grocery bag

"Do you usually ask guys to come in with you and cook ramen for them?" he asks

He meant to only think of it, but with the little amount of alcohol in his system seems to have turn the filter off.

You snicker at his question. Instead of answering him, you grab two ramen cup noodles from your cupboard and turn the kettle on. You wait for the red light to turn green before pouring it in the cups, bringing it over the kitchen island and taking the seat beside him.

"I can't even order late night snacks without thinking about you, we used to do it all the time when I came over at yours or when we're having late night hangouts. You ruined a lot of things for me" you finally say

Haechan just looks at your profile. Even though you say it like that, there's really no trace of anger on your face. Maybe you are, but to him you look so pretty and cozy. He wanted to beat himself up for ever thinking he can walk away from this. From you.

"For what it's worth, whenever I get drunk I used to text you all the time. You probably blocked me because the messages never got delivered. Every morning I see that on my phone, message after message until I lost count. I knew you weren't going to answer but I still did it"

"Why?" you ask him

"I missed you. I wanted to tell you I was being stupid, I wanted to beg for you to take me back. But all of those thing I could only say with a bit of help from alcohol. That's how I knew I couldn't go back, not yet anyways. You deserved more than drunken confessions"

You look over at him, for the first time since that night you really look at him. The same eyes that used to feel like home to you.

He looked so different yet the same.

You still feel the same.

"It's been 3 minutes, you hate soggy noodles" you nod at his ramen. Opening your own cup to start eating. Neither of you said anything after that. It wasn't awkward, you actually enjoyed the quiet.

For the first time since Haechan came back and you saw him again, your mind was at peace. You weren't overthinking things. You weren't wondering your long list of what if's.

It's like a part of you knew he's finally here again.

After the quick snack session, he helped you clean up before walking towards the door.

"Thank you for the uh snacks and water" he didn't know what to say, a shy Haechan is a rare sight so you can't help but smile.

Haechan sees this, he can feel his own cheeks redden. You still look so beautiful when you smile, so beautiful that he's ready to fight anyone who makes you smile that isn't him.

"Go home, it's late. You're sober now right?" you ask him

"Yea, I'm good"

"Okay, don't want you getting confused and going to someone else's front door"

"I promise I won't drunk text you again so will you unblock me now? Or if you have a new number you can text me or whatever. Actually you know what, do whatever makes you feel comfortable. Don't listen to me, I'm just blabbing now"

You can't help but giggle at him, the action making Haechan's heart skip a few beats.

"I'm imagining this is how those drunk texts would sound like" you say

"I missed you, Y/N" he mumbles

You don't say anything. He can hear his own heartbeating, each thump like it's the last then you're smiling back at him

"Goodnight, Haechan"

He smiles at you, waving goodbye before finally walking out. He gestures for you to close the door behind him, only leaving after he hears the lock from the other side. He skips back home.

The next few days were back to normal, you weren't feeling gloomy. You were going out with friends. All in all, you're in a great mood.

"Hey, somebody left this outside. Tell me I'm crazy but is this from Haechan?" your roommate hands you over a small bouquet of flowers with a paper bag full of snacks.

"Uh yeah, I think so"

"I know things didn't end well between the two of you, but the boy is still so whipped for you" she mumbles, watching the small smile on your face

"Maybe it's just a peace offering"

"Right, well whatever it might be I say go for it. As long as you're happy"

You look up at her, shocked to hear that all of a sudden "Isn't that what you're worrying about? You really think I didn't notice it, you were listening to Sorry, Heart on repeat the other day then now you're listening to love songs. If he's it for you, then give it a chance"

She left after that, leaving you alone at home.

You take the gifts Haechan sent to your room, putting the flowers in a vase. You see a small note attached,

xx12131xxx just in case you lost it or changed your number. - H

You get your phone and dial the number, it's still in your phone. You unblock it first before you click call, waiting a few rings before you hear his voice

"Y/N?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone else, and uh it looks like you didn't change your number"

"Oh yea uhm so you're unblocked now" you told him, not really sure what else to say

He chuckles, "Thanks, so I'm guessing you got the flowers and the snacks?"

"Yeah, thanks by the way. Why though?"

"You shared your stash with me the other night, just wanted to pay you back"

"You didn't have to, I offered. But thanks again"

"Hey uh are you busy right now? or tomorrow or really whenever you're free"

"I don't have anymore classes today"

"Do you want to go grab coffee or food or anything really. Whatever you want, my treat"

If someone told you you'd be going out to get drinks with Haechan, you'd say they're out of their mind. But here you are, visiting a new cafe you've never been to with a guy you thought you'd never be with again.

"I'd get the taro milktea, thanks"

"I'll take this one" he points at the drink in the picture, "And two of the cookies please, thank you" he pulls out his card to pay for the both of you. When you got your drinks and food, you walked back outside to sit on the vacant seats. The weather was nice, it wasn't too hot or too cold. A perfect day to be out.

You open your drink, taking a quick sip while Haechan does the same. You notice he made the face, like when he drinks or eats something sour.

"It's lemon flavored isn't it?" you chuckle, taking the drink from him and giving yours to him instead

"No, it's fine. I'll drink it"

"You hate anything sour flavored, I like lemon it's fine" you sip his drink, it does taste good but you know he won't like it

He watches you get the cookies, breaking it in half before giving him the other.

"If you have anything to say, just say it. You're too in your head again" you tell him

"Sorry, I was just..." he's at lost for words, but this time not for the wrong reason.

It's like his mind can't put what he's feeling in to words.

"Did you get the record you were looking for?" you ask him, changing the topic

"Huh?"

"At the record store"

"Oh I wasn't really buying anything, I was just browsing around. They didn't have the vinyl version of the album I wanted, I'll come back some other time" he tells you, taking a sip of your well now his drink.

"You were singing to the Dreamers, you know them?"

"I know a few songs, Sorry, Heart is good. I like that one"

"Me too. You sounded good when you sang it" you complimented him, this made him smile shyly at you

"Isn't it a bit too sad?" he asks, you shrug your shoulders

"I like it, although my roommate said I've been playing love songs these past few days" you shake your head, remembering what she told you

"Thank you by the way" Haechan suddenly says

"For what? You paid for our drinks"

"I meant for agreeing to get drinks with me. I was an asshole to you. All the time I was gone, I was thinking about how to make it up to you. That is if it's okay with you" he tells you.

He mentally pats himself on the back for not messing that up. Maybe slowly he'll learn how to speak his true feelings, he just hopes you'll be there to listen to him. Even though it took him this long.

"The last thing you asked me was what are we, I was being stupid. I wanted us to be more. I wanted us to be official but I was always scared to say it. I don't know why I was ever scared of committing, I could've been with you. That's my regret"

"Haechan"

"You're not a playtoy to me or just some past time whenever I'm bored. You were never too much for me. If anything I was the one who lacked. I don't blame you for walking away, I deserved that. I needed that so I could finally grow up"

You listen to him. You listen to him finally say the words you've been waiting to hear from him.

"This time I want to do it right, I want to take you out on dates, be there to go on night walks with you, go buy records we'd listen to, whatever you want to I just wan to do it with you. If you'll still have me"

The last words was barely a whisper, like he's scared to say it outloud, scared you might turn him away.

Haechan feels his heart beating wildly again, one day he might pass from arrest he thinks. Then you smile at him and it's like everything in his world stops.

You lean over, kissing the corner of his lip lightly. It was so quick but to him it felt like long time

"All I wanted was that, when it gets too much in your head you can talk to me. I'll listen. We don't have to walk away from each other" you tell him

"I'm sorry" he whispers

"I forgive you, the same way I forgive myself from everything that has happened. We need to heal from those wounds for us to move forward"

He smiles at you, he didn't even notice he got a bit teary eyed until a few tears escaped. He wipes it away before looking back at you again.

You stand up from your seat, holding out your hand to him. He looks at your hand then your face then your hand again before intertwining it with his.

There wasn't a destination in mind, he's probably thinking the same. The two of you just walk where your steps lead you to, with him following beside you holding you close to him.

Haechan looks at your hands, a smile forming on his face. He leans towards you to kiss you on the head, the action making you smile too.

"Thank you" you hear him mumble. You didn't say anything back but he felt you grip his hand tighter. Squeezing it three times.

And he knew everything was finally going to be okay. This time, you won't let go.

[atlasdoe]

i've been keeping an eye on this whole mischief productions and p4perback drama that's being going on recently and if anything watching this all play out and the response to it is really proving to me that some of y'all just shouldn't be in this fandom

please hear me out

One of the biggest differences in the marauders fandom to most is that we don't have anyone irl to stan. We don't like the author of the original series, most of the actors that portray these characters in the films were miscasted and the fancasts, although most knowing that they are fancasts, still havnt played these characters and therefore can't give us anything new.

Because of this I feel like a lot of people have been turning to others in the fandom to fill this gap like cosplayers to fill in for actors or fanfic authors to fill in for writers and although that may seem harmless clearly these last few days have proven that it's not.

A lot of these people have leaned into this and started actually coming up with their own fanfilms and series to further this idea that they are now our actors for us to stan, and by calling their followers their fans, and allowing people to make edits of them, use their pictures as fancasts and pinterest boards and even are posting multiple videos of themselves on tiktok as if they're doing press junkiest.

Now a hierarchy has been made and people start to think that they're better then others to the point where they can sell scripts to people even though it's illegal and ask for donations to make said fanfilms (which is soooo icky to me. you do not expect fanartists, editors or fic writers to ask others to pay for their equipment so why is it okay for them???)

This whole ai business was really a long time coming for this fandom and i fear that nobody is going to learn a lesson from this. We cannot keep putting people on pedestals just because they're giving us good fandom content. Some people are smart enough to tell y'all to stop (even tho you hardly listen) but most nowadays are just leaning into it for 15 seconds of fame. That's how we've gotten to the point where people are making marauders content just to gain a viewership and elevate their platform. Or joining a fanfilm to kickstart their career

And this issue of not having content/stans is something i see everywhere. I believe it's why so many people have this hive mindset where everyone has to be in agreement with ships and headcanons or when people keep asking when the next big fic is going to come out that everyone can obsess over when this isn't what being in a fandom is supposed to be about.

If you are missing this sort of structure in a fandom then please go to any other one because in no place should we be giving people this amount of power to screw everyone over like this and still get away with it just because so many people are blindly defending them (and just so we're clear, i'm talking about everyone in the mischief productions and any other fanfilm/series)

[you-call-it-a-dude]

Just Can't Hack It Pt.2

Pt.1

Request: so this is part two to a story. The original request was reader dealing with substance use. I had a few folks wanting another part and I was feeling inspired to add a second part so I did!

Pairings: Leighton Murray x female reader

Warnings: TW!!! I would say this one is more triggering than the first. Mentions of opioid use, accidental overdose, use of narcan/naloxone, difficult discussions around the topic of addiction, needles. This is a super heavy story. Read with caution, take a step back if it's not for you. I have many other stories you can check out if you want something more light hearted. Nobody dies, but it's a pretty realistic scenario about addiction/loving someone with addiction. Could be triggering in many ways, so please be aware.

Authors Note: here I go again adding more chapters to stories I've been saying imma leave as one shots lol. This story is super depressing, I'm so sorry. If you're into that tho, welcome lol. I apologize for my lack of posting. Ive had a lot of life changes happen recently and my mental health hasn't been the greatest (maybe writing this depressing ass chapter will help). I do want to clarify, I am not a drug user. Just a social worker that reads, does research lol. Thank you all for your patience, thank you so everyone that's read my other work while waiting for me to post again. I love you all. I love you for reading, for sharing opinions and engaging in discussions with me and I love you for existing. I hope you like this next chapter

**if you have any questions regarding Narcan/Naloxone, fentanyl test strips, or anything like that, feel free to reach out**

----

You woke up with a loud gasp, some random girl rubbing circles on your sternum. You rushed to sit forward, accidentally shoving her back.

The air was flowing back into your lungs and you felt like you couldn't get it in there quick enough. Your teeth were chattering and you were in that same fucking basement DJ died in.

You grab her wrist with shaky hands and she talked to you calmly, asking you if you were okay and all you could do was shake your head no. Your chest was heaving and it felt like you were inhaling razor blades or something.

What the fuck?

"Sit up slow." She tells you, helping you sit up and you notice her hands are also shaking. "You should probably go to the emergency room." She tells you and you're confused because you don't know why.

"Did something happen?" You ask, your throat dry. You cough to clear it and when you reach forward to grab a cup of whatever off the table, you see an oddly shaped object discarded on the table. You pick it up, your hands still shaking and you run your thumb over the pink 'Narcan' written on the label "Fuck." You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, did...?" You turn your attention to her and she kind of just shrugs.

"I'm not sure honestly. Maybe? But I didn't think it could hurt. You didn't look great, like at all."

You continue to stare down at the small nasal spray, your hands still shaking like never before. You blinked hard a few times, trying to wrap your head around everything.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized to this stranger for most likely traumatizing the fuck out of her.

"Do you have someone to call? You probably need to go to the emergency room." She ignored your apology and something about that made you feel like shit.

"Emergency room? What? That stuff worked. I'm fine." You say, tossing the bottle back onto the table.

"Yeah, but it wears off in like thirty minutes, more or less." She points out.

"Wears off?!" You ask in shock and she nods at you, looking at you like you were stupid.

"And I'm not using my other one on you so I suggest you go." She said with a slight attitude, no longer giving off that friendly vibe she had before. "And maybe get your own for next time, yeah?"

"Fine, Jesus." You say, no longer feeling as indebted to her the more bitchy she got toward you.

You take a few moments to gather yourself, still feeling not the greatest. The girl next to you that potentially saved your life was now injecting something between her toes and if that wasn't enough motivation to get the fuck up and go, you don't know what is.

You grab your things and thank her again. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't say anything back.

Your legs feel weak and shaky. Getting up the stairs and out of the house took way more effort than it should've. You hated this fucking place and you felt disgusting for even coming back.

Your intention was to take an Uber to the emergency room on campus, but when you checked your bank account you were almost certain a ride request wouldn't even go through.

You physically just felt too weak to stand so you sat on the curb, knowing you were going to have to call Leighton and just fucking hated yourself for it.

You pulled out the pills you had taken from your pocket and investigated them. You got them from Liza instead of your normal dealer. She told you they would be exactly the same pills you were used to buying from Angel, just less expensive. Your lack of funds sold you on them immediately. Except now that you actually took the time to study them, you realize they looked nothing like the other ones.

You had no idea what you took.

What you do know is you took two of them at once. It was less than what you normally would've taken. You can't even remember why you decided to only take two instead of your usual four, but clearly sober you was looking out.

Well...semi-sober you.

You called Leighton and it took three tries for her to answer. She was mad at you again because you bailed on her the other night on dinner plans that you made.

"Hello?" She finally answered. You could hear laughter in the background so you knew she was out with friends or out doing something and it made you feel even worse to ask her for help.

"Hi, Leight." You say softly, pushing your fingertips into your eyes trying to build up the courage to ask her. "Can you help me, please?"

"Help you?" She sounds concerned and you hear a door close behind her, all of the noise fading away. "What's going on?"

"I need-I need, fuck!" You try, the words feeling almost impossible to get out. "I need to go to the emergency room, I think." You finally get out, blinking hard to keep your brain working.

"Emergency room? What's going on? Where are you?"

"Please, Leighton. I'm at the blue house on the edge of campus. You know the one." You rub your palm against your forehead. "Can you please just come get me."

"Yeah. I know the one." Of course she did. Everyone knows the blue fucking house. It's literally nicknamed the druggie house on campus. There's only one reason people went there. Her voice sounded monotone and she was definitely connecting some dots. "I'm coming, I'm not far away." She hangs up on you before you can even tell her goodbye and you just feel her disappointment radiating through the phone.

It was less than ten minutes when you saw a familiar car pull up.

Leighton stepped out of the passenger side and as soon as the door closed, the window was rolling down to reveal Whitney in the drivers seat.

"Are you kidding me, Leighton." You complained as she rushed over to help you.

"Shut up." Whitney said from the driver's side, rolling her eyes at you.

"Fuck you!" You spat at her, letting Leighton help pull you to your feet.

"No, fuck you! What the hell is wrong with you?" You stayed silent because you didn't have an answer to her question. "That's what I fucking thought. Now get in the car."

Leighton sat in the back with you, letting you lay your head on her lap. She hasn't said a single word to you since she picked you up and you don't know if it was the drugs or the anxiety caused by her silence that was making your heart race the way it was.

Your body was sore and your head ached. You turned so you could bury your face in her sweater, inhaling the smell of her. She massaged your scalp, pulling you closer to her body.

Whitney dropped you both off at the front door and said to call her when you needed to be picked up. She sounded a lot nicer now, but she was also talking to Leighton.

You weren't feeling great at all and you definitely had the fear that whatever dosage that girl gave you was wearing off and you were going to die in the waiting room of this fucking hospital.

Leighton helped bring you to the front desk. You declined her offer of a wheelchair because something about that just felt degrading. Having to have her push you because of something you did to yourself?

Falling to the ground and crawling would be less embarrassing.

The woman at the desk greeted you and asked what was going on and you hesitated. Because even though Leighton probably figured shit out by now, you never said it out loud.

Saying it out loud would finally be admitting that you had a problem, which is why you've avoided it for so long.

"I-um-I-" both Leighton and the lady at the desk with the patience of a saint watch you fiddle nervously with the pen attached to a chain. "I am not feeling too great. I was given narcan maybe thirty minutes ago." You were blinking rapidly trying to get through your sentence, the fluorescent lighting and the pounding headache was making your brain short circuit.

The lady at the desk sat up quickly, asking you for your ID and insurance card, asking someone behind her to call for a nurse. You pulled your wallet from your pocket and Leighton had to help you pull the cards out because your hands were shaking and you just couldn't do it.

A male nurse appeared out of nowhere with a rolling blood pressure cuff and asked you to follow him to the triage area.

"What about my stuff?" You ask, letting this man escort you to a little area.

"I've got it, baby." Leighton said calmly, a few steps behind you, shoving your ID back into your wallet that she was still holding.

You sat down in a chair with your feet planted firmly on the floor like instructed and you felt like this firm wooden chair was consuming you.

He slipped the blood pressure cuff on your arm, the stethoscope planted firmly in the center of your arm. His eyes never left you while he asked you some questions.

"Do you know how many doses of the narcan you received?"

"Just one." You say and he nods.

"What did you take?" He asks, making eye contact with you and waiting for your response.

You swallowed and looked up at Leighton, who was waiting at you expectantly to answer.

"I don't know. It wasn't from my usual person. My friend that got it for me said it would be the same and it wasn't. I took less than what I normally would." You admit and it sounds embarrassing to even say something like that. You just hope he doesn't ask you-

"How much do you normally take? How much did you take of these?"

"Um, four to five 10mg Percocet. I only took two of these."

"Okay." He nods and the machine starts to beep. He removes the cuff from your arm and motions to someone behind you. "We are going to take you back now, okay? Your blood pressure is too low." He said while he and Leighton help you stand up and you were mortified to find them leading you to a wheelchair.

"Yeah, okay." You nod and when you sit you look back between Leighton and the nurse with a panicked expression. "Can she come back with me?"

"Of course." He takes hold of the wheelchair and takes you to a double door, pressing the button and leading you and Leighton through a maze of curtained rooms before bringing you to an open bed.

As soon as your butt hit that bed, two nurses were rushing in one was hooking you up to different machines and pulling down your shirt to stick electrodes on your chest to monitor your heart.

Before you could even process anything, your bed was being lowered and you were laying flat on your back and the second nurse was giving you a second dose of narcan up your nostrils while the first nurse finally explained to you and Leighton what the fuck was going on.

She said that narcan is usually done in two or more doses and that it often wears off before the effects of the pills do. That because you only received one dose, you were already showing the signs of the first dose wearing off and going into another potential overdose.

You didn't even have time to panic or freak out. They had the narcan up your nose and had you sitting back up like it never even happened. Leighton nodding with wide eyes from the chair next to you and trying to absorb what the nurse was saying.

You gripped the bridge of your nose and squinted your eyes while the nurse finished speaking, already starting to feel better.

"We are going to keep you here for a couple of hours just for monitoring." She rolls a little tray over to your bed that has a needle, test tubes, and a tourniquet. All the makings for getting your blood drawn. "We are required to do a toxicology screening on you, especially since you do not know what you took." She slips on a new pair of gloves. "These results will not be shared with the university." She reassured when she saw your face drop. "Arm out."

She cleaned your arm with an alcohol pad and tied the elastic tourniquet around your arm, pressing on your veins to find a vein. She inserts the needle in your arm and you watch the multiple vials fill up. She removes the tourniquet, has you hold a cotton ball where the needle went in and slaps a bandaid over it. She cleans up the area and says she'll be back shortly and walks out without saying another word.

Leighton had been silent the entire time. She was holding your things and sitting on the chair next to your bed watching the monitor with all off your vitals. Her eyes looked glassed over and you didn't know what to say or how to even begin to say it.

"Thanks for coming with me." You say pitifully and her eyes dart from the monitor to look over at you.

"I feel so stupid." She says, shaking her head. "Everything is like, making sense now, you know? The missed dates, the weird behavior, the angry outbursts." She nods her head, almost like she was agreeing with her own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry."

"And then you take shit that you don't even know what it is and- and you fucking overdose? What if you fucking died, Y/N?" She sounds so angry, but you can see she's on the verge of tears. You reach for her, touching her arm and she yanks herself away from you. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Then fucking go if you don't want to stay." You say, staring up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"Stop."

"I should've just let myself die on the curb of that stupid fucking house." You slammed your head against the pillow, the machines beeping like crazy for a brief moment.

"Can you just shut the fuck up with that self deprecating shit?" She spits, crossing her arms and legs.

She's very closed off and distant now. It almost felt like you could feel her distancing herself from you in real time. There's an awkward silence between the two of you and you reach for her.

"Leighton..."

"Mmmh mmmh." She shakes her head no, keeping her attention focused on her phone

"Baby." You try again and when her fingers pause over the phone screen you know you're getting somewhere. "Please, baby."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, giving you her attention.

"What."

"I'm really sorry." You say sincerely, playing with the edge of the flimsy hospital blanket.

"For...?" There was no hint of emotion to her voice. But in scenarios like this, Leighton was always good at shutting down and putting her walls up.

"For how I've been treating you. For a lot of things."

"If that's all you're going to say, that's a really shitty fucking apology."

"No! Of course that's not all. I-fuck. Okay. Just give me a second to collect my thoughts."

"Well, maybe if you weren't high on god knows what you'd be able to give me a less pathetic apology."

Maybe it was your high wearing off, maybe it was just the drugs in general, but man for the briefest moment you wanted to cuss her out.

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose in an attempt to remain calm.

"If you let me fucking finish talking maybe you'll be more than the pathetic apology." You say through gritted teeth and she just raises her eyebrows at you expectantly. "I fucked up, okay? I know that. I didn't mean for it to get this bad." You admit and she tilts her head, her gaze visibly softening.

"What do you mean?" She scoots the hospital chair closer to your bed.

"I got the meds originally when I messed up my knee. It freaked me out about if I would get to play again or not. When I got back into it, it was great, but I fucking sucked and there was this insane amount of pressure to be as good as I was before my injury. There still is that pressure. My knee just felt tight all the time. Like it was about to snap at any moment. I did the physical therapy, the ice baths, I did everything. Well, everything but admit that maybe it's just straight up fucked." You look down and begin to pick at on your fingertips. Leighton reaches forward to stop you and instead you press your thumb against one of her manicured nails, enjoying the feeling of the pinpricking pressure against your fingertip.

"Keep going, baby." She encourages softly and you could feel yourself relax.

"I refilled my final prescription for my meds right before I started playing again. I would ration the bottle and take them after games and stuff. Then I took them during a game and realized I could play pretty damn good and my leg felt fantastic. Well, until afterwards when it felt worse than ever. Turns out if you take meds to prevent pain, it's really difficult to gauge when you're pushing yourself too far. So I would take some meds before the game, during the game, then again after the games..." Leighton opens her mouth to speak, but you continue with your thought. "...And then one or two more before bed."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." She says, sounding both shocked and horrified. "I don't even...how long-how many? I don't know! I'm trying not to ask my question without sounding like a dick." She admits and looks to you for some guidance.

You don't know her exact question, but you can guess where she was going with it.

"It was supposed to be refill that lasted three months and finished it in like a month. Maybe a month in a half if I want to be generous. They were a low-ish doses, so I would take more."

"How many were you supposed to take a day? How many did you take?" She asked her questions in a quick succession.

"I was supposed to take one, max two, a day." She nodded and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "I was taking like four to six."

"I-what?! You know what," she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. "Let me approach this in a non-judgmental way. I just, I really want to know what happened to escalate the situation and bring us where we are now." She squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"So my prescription runs out and I find a connect when I go to one of the parties at the blue house. I got pills from him for a while, but you would not believe how expensive opioids are." You tried to joke, only when you looked up to see Leighton was not laughing, not even cracking a smile, you quickly cleared your throat and got serious. "After DJ died in the house, I starting using more and it was just getting more expe-"

"Wait what? The guy that overdosed in the house, you were his friend?"

"I, well, yes. But I was also...there. I called the ambulance when I found him." You could feel everything else coming out like word vomit. "I introduced him to Liza, who introduced him to drugs." You clenched your jaw, trying to swallow down the breakdown you've been keeping at bay for over a month now. "I killed him, Leighton. It's my fault he's dead." You look up at her tearfully and when Leighton frowns and calls you 'baby', you fucking lose it.

She stands up and pulls your face from your hands. The machines attached to you are beeping rapidly for who knows what fucking reason and it was pissing you off.

"Get these off of me." You say mid sob, attempting to pull the electrodes of your chest, yanking at the wires and your shirt blindly. "Get these fucking off!"

Leighton was fighting your arms at this point, doing her best to keep your arms still. Your brain could comprehend that you were smacking her unintentionally, hitting her arms, her hands, and her chest. You felt like your body was stuck between fight and flight right now. You felt out of control in every aspect, mentally and physically. You wanted to stop, you wanted to calm down, you just literally could not.

Within seconds two nurses came in and Leighton held your arms until one of the nurses took her place. Her absence felt more upsetting and agitating, so you attempted to reach for her. Your throat felt raw from crying and now you were screaming for Leighton, begging her to help you.

You gripped a nurses arm tightly, your face smushed against her scrubs while you watched Leighton's horrified expression as the two nurses turned you on your side. One of them pulled your pants down on one side and inject a tranquilizer into your ass cheek.

You gasped and squeezed the nurses arm, mortified about what happened and that it happened in front of Leighton. You were also both shocked and impressed at how quickly your heart rate was going down.

You also felt absolutely terrible for the tears and snot you were getting on this poor nurse's scrubs. Going back and forth between pitifully apologizing to her and to Leighton while the meds kicked in.

You could feel your arms getting heavy and the nurses began to lay you on your back again. The one you were gripping for dear life was covering you with a blanket and you can over hear the one that injected your ass trying to talk Leighton through what she just witnessed.

Something about it being normal behavior when coming off a lot of drugs so suddenly. You don't fucking know.

What you do know is Leighton looked pale and traumatized and that it was absolutely your fucking fault.

You reached for her. Desperately trying to tell her that you loved her. That you're in love with her and that you were so fucking sorry.

She looked at you confused, holding your hand and telling you she couldn't understand what you were saying. You could feel yourself getting riled up mentally, but your body felt stuck. Like gum to the bottom of a fucking shoe you were stuck and locked into this bed.

The nurses left and she pulled her chair close to your bed again, her hand never letting go of yours while she did. She sat in front of you, calling you baby, pushing hair from your face, and telling you that it was okay and to just close your eyes for a little bit.

You moaned and whined, tears sliding down your cheeks. They matched the ones streaming down Leighton's and you wanted you kiss them away. Instead she wiped your tears and begged you not to cry, her lips pressed against the side of your head.

You closed your eyes, Leighton's lips against your temple while she whispered calming things in your ear.

---

You woke up confused. You had a hospital gown on over your shirt and pants, and you were also pretty sure you were in a different room.

"Water?" You croak, your mouth dryer than nothing you have ever experienced before.

"Here." Came a voice next to you that was most definitely not Leighton.

You turn your head to the side to see Whitney holding a styrofoam cup with a straw and you push yourself to sit up straight, blinking and wiping away the dried up tears and sleep gunk from your eyes.

You hesitate at first, but you take the cup from her. You drink the cool ice water down like your life depended on it.

"Thank you." You tell her when you finished drinking, breathing heavily like a toddler after they downed some juice. You look around the room for any signs of Leighton, finding none. You try not to panic, but the machine measuring your hate rate gives you away.

"She'll be back. I sent her home a bit ago to change into different clothes and get something to eat." Whitney informs you, setting the water on the little table. She stands up and goes to the sink, wetting a small stack of those thin paper towels with warm water and wiping your face and mouth. You could feel your dried spit and snot come off with ease. You closed your eyes while she wiped your face, too tired to feel embarrassed. "Better?" She asks you, patting your face with a dry paper towel when she was done.

You nod your head yes, settling further into the bed.

"How long was I out?" You stare at the analog clock on the wall, but it doesn't help much since you didn't even know the time you came in or were knocked out at.

"Maybe seven hours? It's been a while. They said it could range from like six to twelve hours." You nod, staring at your covered feet. You can feel yourself checking out mentally, but Whitney talking again brings you back to earth. "Leighton filled me in, I hope that's okay."

"Mhmm, yeah." You shrugged and nodded, trying to hide your shame over the fact that another person knows this about you now.

"Why didn't you say anything to anyone?" She was soft with her approach, but there was a thin layer of assertiveness underneath.

"Well, Whitney, the thing about having a drug problem is you don't really fucking realize you have a drug problem until you end up in a hospital and get a needle shoved into your ass cheek. Or, maybe it's when a girl that injects meth between her toes gets pissy for using her Narcan on you. Gee, I just can't decide." You say sarcastically and Whitney's face hardens slightly.

"Okay, I get it." She says defensively, sitting back in the chair to lean away from you. You sigh and attempt to run a hand through your hair, but it's all matted and sweaty.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You say quietly. "I thought I had a handle on it, okay? I didn't think it was a problem." You admit, nodding your head as you thought to yourself. "Clearly." You vaguely gesture to yourself laid up in a hospital bed and Whitney nods.

"Everything is starting to make sense though. Your behaviors, your angry outbursts, the way you treated Leighton."

You wince at that last one. You treated her horribly the last like eight months and you knew that.

It was such a weird feeling. To love someone so deeply and be unable to stop yourself from absolutely wrecking them and treating them like shit.

"Yeah, I've been told already things are adding up. Glad I could provide some clarity." You give her a tight lipped smile and a weak thumbs up.

"You're awake!"

You look up to see Leighton coming into the room, a little visitor badge pinned to her hoodie. You nod, looking up at her with a smile. Your eyes start to water, something about seeing her just hitting you with the overwhelming urge to cry because you were so fucking happy she came back.

You open your arms for her and she sets her purse down to rush to your side and give you a hug. You wrap your arms around her and hold her tightly, pressing your lips wherever you could.

A knock at the door caused her to pull away. She took the extra seat on the other side of your bed as the doctor came in and greeted you, washing his hands.

He did an overall exam on you. Checked your mouth, your eyes, listening to your heart and lungs. He pulled his stool up to your bed and rested a folder of paperwork by your feet.

"So, we got your blood results back. It's routine to drug test in these situations. The school will not be informed of the results." He reassured you like the nurse did previously. "Now," he opens the packet of papers to a specific page where numbers are highlighted. "You have a decent amount in your system. I'm sure that's something you're aware of." You nod and he continues. "We do not think you overdosed on the pills themselves. Not to say that means you should go out and keep slamming them back."

The three of you made a face at him, unsure if his comment was meant to lighten the mood or if he was just a dick.

"So what's the problem then?" Whitney speaks up and he clears his throat.

"Well, you have a dangerous amount of fentanyl in your system. Whatever you took was most likely laced. Had you taken the four pills you said you normally took, you would probably be dead. Here are some packets about fentanyl as well as some inpatient and outpatient treatments for opioid addiction, and some information about methadone." He sets about five pamphlets in the open space between your legs and stands up, pushing his chair back in. "The nurse is going to come in with your discharge paperwork. Schedule an appointment with your PCP. Have a good day ladies." He sanitizes his hands and leaves the room, leaving the three of you looking confused and dumbfounded.

"That was it?" Leighton asks after he leaves, clearly frustrated. She reaches forward and grabs the pamphlets off your legs and thumbs through them furiously. "You almost fucking die apparently and that's it? You go the fuck home? What the fuck."

"Leighton, please stop." You say calmly, but she was pacing the room now while she read.

"This methadone seems good. I can call my dad and get you into a good rehab. Inpatient or out." She says while reading through the pamphlets and you start feeling overwhelmed.

Of course you wanted to be better and to stop taking the pills.

But the thought of actually doing it scared the shit out of you.

"Can I please just go home first and figure this out later?" You ask, scratching your eyebrow.

"Yes," Whitney says and looks up and Leighton sternly. "Yes, you can." She says, answering for Leighton.

"I have one request." Leighton says, shoving the pamphlets into her purse before sitting at the edge of your bed. "Please stay with us for a bit. A few days, a week. However long. Just please do it, okay?"

You nodded your head. You knew you scared her, no, fucking traumatized her. She was looking at you right now like she wanted to cry. Like if you told her no she would probably burst into tears.

You couldn't tell her no. You couldn't do this to her again. You definitely couldn't do anything to risk losing her.

"Yes, I'll stay with you. Can I stop at my room at get some clothes?"

"Absolutely. Can I go in with you when you do?"

You hesitated. You thought about the state of your side of the room. You definitely weren't as clean as you used to be. You most definitely had been slacking on doing your laundry and the thought of her going in there and seeing your gross, crusty underwear made you want to flip.

You still agreed though and she kissed your cheek. She went to kiss your lips and you turned your head.

"My mouth feels disgusting. More kissing later?"

"Deal." She nods, sneaking a quick peck onto your lips anyway.

There was a knock on the door and a nurse stepped in holding some paperwork.

"Alrighty, Y/N. Let's get you outta here, hun."

---

You rushed into your dorm, quickly picking up dirty clothes from the floor and tossing them in your hamper, picking up trash and shoving it aside.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You apologize profusely for the state of your room.

"No, don't. It's okay." Leighton says, taking in the space.

She hadn't been allowed into your room for a while. Usually when she would come over it would be spotless and smell like air fresher. It was a complete 180 from what she was used to.

You could almost see her absorbing in the gravity of your addiction. As if almost OD'ing on laced pills, blowing off her dates, and having frequent mood swings weren't enough. She was getting a first hand view of how little you had been taking care of yourself because of it.

Something about that felt more shameful than anything. You felt vulnerable and exposed. You had been caught putting on a show and now all the curtains were being pulled back to expose the complex layers of your addiction. Exposing problems that you didn't even realize were becoming problems until someone you love is watching you scramble to clean it up.

"I just need to get some clean clothes." You say, opening your drawers and finding them to be pretty bare. "Fuck." You whisper to yourself.

"Why don't you bring some dirty clothes with you and we can do laundry at my dorm. Okay, baby?"

"Um, y-yeah." You blink hard, slamming your drawer shut. You open another and are thankful to find a handful of clean underwear. You pull them out and shove them into the bag Leighton had set on your bed. "Can you get me some shirts from my closet? I'll gather my dirty clothes."

"Of course." She turns around to look through your closet.

You grabbed a garbage bag and began picking clothes off the floor, plucking clothes from your hamper and other various surfaces around the room, shoving them into the trash bag. When a bunch of change falls out of one of your pockets you sigh, going back into the bag and digging through the pockets of any pants and shorts you shoved in there to make sure those were empty before you continued.

You picked up a pair of sweatpants, digging your hand into the pocket and freezing when you felt something sharp-ish poke your fingertips.

It was almost like you could hear angels singing when you pull the item from your pocket. A small baggie with three little blue pills in it. Three pills that you most definitely recognized and knew they would be safe. You traced your thumb over them, licking your lips.

"Do you want this sweater, babe?" Leighton asks from the closet behind you and you briefly turn around to face her.

"Yes, that's perfect, baby." You tell her. You weren't even looking at the sweater.

You had look at her face. Feeling guilty about everything that went down. Feeling guilty about all the time and energy she was probably going to put in to taking care of you.

You knew the best thing to do right now would be to hand the pills over. It would be the responsible thing.

You wanted to be responsible.

You grip the small baggie in your hand tightly and scratch under your nose with the back of your hand, thinking of the way you were going to hand the baggie over.

You open your palm again to stare at the pills, your hand shaking. You look around the room one more time, turning to smile at Leighton while she had a few shirts and sweaters draped over her arm for you.

You wanted to be responsible, just maybe not today.

You clear your throat, shoving the pills into the deepest corner of your front pocket.

[huaidanta]

Analysis: Why I think Fuuta was actually wrong to make his post about the university professor in Bring It On

[Originally a Twitter thread so it may read a bit clunky]

I've been thinking a lot about this sort of belief that Fuuta only really went wrong in the case of Miss Magic/Killcheroy and it got me to consider the other targets in Bring It On.

In particular, I was curious about how people viewed the second case (Rypirotes). Compared to the other subjects, this one had a clear victim and a much more serious offense. The university professor committed sexual harassment which definitely calls for some sort of action.

I made a Twitter poll asking if Fuuta was justified in making his tweet outting the university professor for sexual harassment and the overwhelming majority (78.4%) said yes.

However, I don't agree with Fuuta making the post and I'll explain why:

Fuuta taking a photo of the scene is represented by 3 different texts appearing in front of him. "SHUTTER", "chance", and "盗撮".

Wait... "chance"? To me, "chance" makes it sound like Fuuta sees this as an opportunity, rather than as something genuinely horrible.

Even worse, the kanji that appears here is specifically used to describe non-consensual photography like upskirt shots and peeping photos. They've directly correlated Fuuta taking a photo of the situation as something perverse and violating.

Like... just think about it. Fuuta took a photo of a woman in an incredibly vulnerable situation and put it on the internet for everyone to look at, without ever getting her consent.

As a man, Fuuta has more social power to directly intervene and stop the harassment... We also know he's a coward. Even so, couldn't he have tried reporting it to other authorities at the university? Or at least checked to see if that woman was okay?

We can infer that Fuuta never directly did anything because he was walking the university hallways at 12:25, witnessed the scene and left (we see him leave!!), made a tweet at 12:46, posted the photo at 12:58, and was checking the post at 15:01 (?) from his seat in class.

In his post, Fuuta asks for the others to report this to the university. Why didn't Fuuta do it himself?

Instead, one of the first things he does is tweet "I found a bad guy". He isn't horrified this is happening, he's EXCITED that he gets to broadcast it.

Fuuta and the repliers don't actually care about the wellbeing of the woman. No one expresses real concern for her, they just want a bad guy to take down.

As Es says in Fuuta's T2 VD, this is a game—entertainment—to them.

I also want to point out this comment in particular, because it shows that Fuuta didn't even blur her face out!!!

There's an irony in that by publicly calling out the professor for violating a woman's boundaries and consent, Fuuta's violated those very same things.

It's the only "fight" in Bring It On with a real tangible victim but she's treated as insignificant.

In conclusion, I don't think Fuuta was right to make that post because he never bothered to truly help the victim. The post only further violated her boundaries to serve Fuuta's own selfish interests.

It's easy to get swept up in the desire for retribution and miss that there are real people that were—and continue to be—hurt.

(MV text translations are from Rochisama)

[cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel]

Hello, saw your post on sheeps and was wondering a few things. Do you do commissions? Do you have any huge tips or anything for drawing sheep? I've been trying to do it but can never get it right. I saw you were taking requests for Cotl characters but one of my friends has a sheep oc that isn't cotl and i was wondering if you'd do that or just cotl.

well hello!

sorry for the late reply and get ready, there will be a lot of chatter here… REALLY A LOT

1) Not yet, I don't have an adequate price list for this

2) Okay, here's what I learned: sheep always have horns that curl behind their ears (the exception is "Jacob sheep," which have four horns, one that curls behind their ears and one that goes up);

sheep have a noticeably divided upper lip, and long, drooping tails;

Sheep come in a variety of colors, depending on their breed. The most prominent colors I've seen are black, white, and several shades of brown. Their eyes are usually amber or brown (dark brown eyes can be mistaken for black), but they can sometimes be gray-green or gray-blue.

I draw the legs for the sheep in two ways, but both are made up of 4 separate parts

in the first the fourth part is the hoof; the first three parts are evenly divided in half for convenience:

I use this method to draw more stylized (or cartoonish) characters that are more removed from reality in terms of anatomy and are builded on the author's style.

For example, here is a quick sketch with a stylized lamb design that relies on the author's style and convenience. Anthea belongs to @the-artist-grimm (Sorry for the ping, it is important for me to indicate the author)

the second type is more anatomical in relation to reality, but still relies on human anatomy and style:

Each part is a kind of hinge and is responsible for movement. The previous one has one too, but since the second one looks a bit more complicated, I'll try to explain it

this sketch I have marked with circles the places that are responsible for movement

here it's more clear, to be honest it's like an app with a mannequin, where you can make virtual pose (although I haven't done that for a long time)

I mainly use human anatomy with a bit of sheep anatomy because I don't feel comfortable with completely animal anatomy (in percentage terms, human are 60%, animal are 40%. This doesn't only apply to sheep, I've extended this to several other four-legged animals)

I'm still figuring out about the sheep's muzzle myself. I mostly use a circle or rectangle to represent the head. For more cartoonish or feminine characters, a circle is perfect, and if the opposite is true, a rectangle

but again, it depends on comfort and style

for the nose bridge I use a diamond shape, its adds some debt

My style of drawing sheep wool is "airy", you could say I draw in semicircles. I also sometimes add some curls lines to give it more effect

That's all for now, since the question didn't specify what kind of difficulties you're having in drawing sheep, I told you a little bit of everything! well almost..

if you still don't understand something, you can contact me, just please tell me what exactly the difficulty is and I will tell you in more detail about it and how you could deal with it

You can write to the mailbox or to me personally

3) well… yes I can, but in this case it's better to send this request to my other blog: @sannaliel

Thank you for your question, I really hope I could help you!