#school is starting to get to me :/ BUT I will soon

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.

“Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[gonkaccino]

hey hey another thing. Everyone noticed how subdued movie Elphaba is relative to book/musical Elphaba, right? Book Elphaba's whole thing is being loudly independent and making her own bold choices (then getting [metaphorically] pushed down 5 flights of stairs for having the gall to exist). Musical Elphaba is less of a reddit atheist than her book counterpart, but still plenty abrasive and, ultimately, forges her own path (with its own relatively less tragic consequences).

Movie Elphaba? She doesn't choose to go to Shiz. Her father's planning on keeping her tucked away in their family home until the day she dies, where she can't hurt anyone or further embarrass the Thropp name. Morrible's the one who gets her enrolled, fully aware that Elphaba has no choice if she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life stuck at home, only ever leaving to accompany Nessa. This Elphaba doesn't choose to go to school, she doesn't choose to go to the Emerald City, and, really, she doesn't even choose to defy gravity -- there is no alternative, she can't live if she stays with the Wizard, especially not after Morrible's preemptive announcement of her wickedness. Movie Elphaba's trapped by her destiny, walking the path laid out for her. With one crucial exception, of course: Glinda, baby, that's right, the only thing this Elphie's ever chosen for herself, the only thing she's been allowed to choose, is to have Glinda at her side!

This softer, more noticeably scared Elphaba creates the extremely juicy dynamic of visibly relying on Glinda for support. As soon as they become pals, Elphaba's latched onto her, the only person who isn't scared of her magic, the first person to care for Elphaba's well-being. She chooses to befriend Glinda, she chooses to bring Glinda to the Emerald City, she chooses to ask Glinda to defy gravity with her. This is what makes this version of Defying Gravity so delicious: Elphaba's never truly believed in herself! The only reason she ever started was because Glinda was there to encourage her, and now, at this crucial moment, this Elphaba, who has lived her life so terrified of the harm she could cause others, has the confidence to not only risk her own life with a spell she's never tried, but the life of her one and only friend!

And Glinda refuses! And it's totally understandable now! Of course this Glinda would say no -- she's not scared of what could happen to her, she's scared of what will happen to Elphie, and standing there, she gets it. She understands the role she's played in Elphaba's life. Glinda knows Elphaba wouldn't be there, ready to declare war on the Wizard, if Glinda hadn't been by her side the entire time, and she has to refuse. She has to. Elphaba's request isn't come with me, we're stronger together, it's I can't do this without you, I'm not strong enough, and Glinda KNOWS that's not true. The only way she can express this is by sending Elphie off on her own, to straighten her hat and wish her luck. It's the only way Elphie will take flight and finally realize that she's got the power to do anything she wants, if she just tries.

[sliced-peaches]

hit it off right

Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?

After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.

📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest

a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~

mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly

A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.

“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”

“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.

“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”

There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.

It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?

“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.

“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“

“Sounds like he’s in full support.”

Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.

“He also asked me about you.”

“What about me?”

“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”

“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”

His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.

“Wait. Did he like them?”

“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”

“Oh.”

“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”

“…okay that’s a little better.”

It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.

The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.

Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.

“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”

His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.

“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”

“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”

You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.

“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”

There’s a beat.

“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Damn, you ever told him all that?”

“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“

He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.

“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”

You blink at him, two times. Three times.

“Huh?”

His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.

“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”

“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”

“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”

Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.

“I think he’d be good for you.”

“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.

Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.

But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.

You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.

After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.

It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.

Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.

Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.

It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.

Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.

Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.

“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.

“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”

On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.

She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.

“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.

“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”

You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”

“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”

You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.

“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”

Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.

woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵

“C-can I be honest with you?”

Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.

“Of course you can.”

She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.

“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”

“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”

Her eyes widen in anticipation.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”

“Shut up, no way!”

“Let’s just say I have insider info.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

you: appx 4 min 🤠

woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼

You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.

She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.

Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.

“Come in, come in!”

Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.

You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.

Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.

“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”

“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.

“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”

The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.

“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”

You blush under all the affection from them.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”

“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”

Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.

YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”

“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“

Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.

“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.

The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.

Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.

Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.

“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”

The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.

Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.

He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.

Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.

Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”

Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”

Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.

And what a sight to see.

Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.

Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.

Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.

“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”

It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.

He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.

“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”

With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.

You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.

Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.

Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.

Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.

Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.

“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.

“I can drink to that.”

You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.

It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.

Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

So you try your best to start and make conversation.

“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”

“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”

“Really? What are you going to be doing?”

He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.

“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”

Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.

“You sing, Jaehyun?”

“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”

There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.

“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”

You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.

“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”

“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”

He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.

So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.

“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”

He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.

“I hope you do, too. Soon.”

“Shots?”

Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.

“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”

“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”

“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”

He asks for your preference, and you do the same.

Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.

“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”

Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”

“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.

“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“

Donghyuck pretends to yawn.

“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”

“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”

“Literally.”

Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.

Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”

The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.

You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”

The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.

The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.

At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.

But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.

He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.

After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.

“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.

“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.

“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.

“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.

“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”

His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“

“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.

Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.

Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”

You wave him off towards the door.

“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”

With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.

Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.

“How many drinks in are you?”

“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”

“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.

There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).

Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.

But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.

The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.

“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.

“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.

He can’t see shit, in all honesty.

“I may or may not be a little crossed.”

“That’s what I smell on you?”

“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.

“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”

“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”

He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“You smoke?”

“Weed? Rarely.”

“Cigs?”

“Not once in my life.”

“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”

“Vape away, I could never judge.”

At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.

His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.

“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.

“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”

He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.

“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”

He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”

He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.

“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What does he say?”

That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.

“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”

A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.

“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”

“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.

But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”

Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.

You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”

“You’re right. But he deserves it.”

He nods while he thinks on his next words.

“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”

“That’s all him, he works hard-“

“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“He… he said that? Really?”

“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”

Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.

“Are you crying?”

You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.

“I was gonna but I’m okay.”

He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.

The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.

“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”

You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”

“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”

“Move, I’ll look.”

You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.

“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”

“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”

“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.

Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”

Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”

More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.

He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.

It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.

Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.

You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.

“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.

“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?

“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.

“Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”

Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.

Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”

“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”

Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”

While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.

“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”

“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”

His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.

“Are you staying over?”

“No I’m going home tonight.”

He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.

“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Good.”

You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.

You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”

“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”

“Yeah. You want any water?”

“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.

“He’s decent, just whiny.”

“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”

You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.

“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”

“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.

“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”

“Hmm…”

unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun

unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[the-secret-keeper]

Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland

This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.

TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares

Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.

Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Could be read as romantic or platonic

This will be long, so the stories under the cut

This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!

First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.

And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.

You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.

Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.

Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.

Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.

Lucifer:

You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.

"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.

"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.

"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.

"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.

"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.

"Thank you."

A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.

It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.

"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."

"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.

"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.

"Like what?"

"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."

"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.

"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."

"Overblots?"

"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."

"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."

"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.

Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.

"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"

Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.

"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."

He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.

"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."

He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.

No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.

Mammon: 

You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.

It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.

Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.

You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.

"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.

"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.

"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.

"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."

"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.

"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."

"Really?"

His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.

"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."

"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."

"Grim?"

"My cat."

"Ya sound like Satan."

"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.

"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.

Leviathan:

Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.

"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."

"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.

"You do?!" He asked excitedly.

"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."

"Really? Tell me more!"

"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.

"You couldn't?"

"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."

"That seems... dumb. To say the least."

"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.

"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."

"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.

"He was an otaku too?"

"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."

"Better than me?"

"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.

"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.

"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."

"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."

"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.

He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.

Asmodeus:

Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.

He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.

You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.

He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.

"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.

"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.

"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"

"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."

"Interesting man? Interesting how?"

"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."

"Anything else I should know about this person?"

"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."

"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.

"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.

"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."

"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."

"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."

"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."

"Run down?"

"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.

"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."

"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."

"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.

There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.

He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.

Satan:

Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.

You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.

You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.

"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."

"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.

"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."

"Oh." Satan almost groaned.

"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."

"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"

"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."

"I thought you said you were a student?"

"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."

A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?

He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.

It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.

"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.

"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.

"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.

"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.

"Take your time."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."

"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."

"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.

"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."

"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."

"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.

"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.

With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.

After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.

"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."

"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."

"It was that bad?"

"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.

Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.

If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.

"Was it just you?"

"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."

"You were hated?"

"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."

"Was your old headmaster that bad?"

"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."

"That sounds awful."

"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."

"I wish you would've told us."

"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.

"Spelldrive?"

"Yeah!"

As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.

Belphegor:

Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.

It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.

He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.

But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.

Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.

"You need to wake up."

You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Wake! UP!" He commanded.

You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.

You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.

"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."

"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"

"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."

"And your cat?"

"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."

"How long have you had these nightmares?"

"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."

"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.

"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.

"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"

"I do."

He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.

He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.

But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.

"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.

"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.

You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding

In which you and Max tie the knot.

Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List

After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didn’t want to wait until the next summer break to get married. 

Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail. 

It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadn’t missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble. 

“What if we just eloped?” He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows you’d do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesn’t suit you at all. 

You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. “What?” 

Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. “You heard me. What if we just said ‘fuck this’ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? That’s a thing?” 

Not for the first time in your relationship, you’re stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s fucking with you or not. “You’d…you’d want that?” 

Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. “Baby,” He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. “Baby, I’d marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I don’t care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I don’t care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.” 

Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

Max’s forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it’s true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I don’t care.” 

He’d do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. “I just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.” 

You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what you’re feeling. “I love our lives and know we’re privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something that’s just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?” 

An idea forms in Max’s head then. “What if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?” 

You nod, “Have is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?” 

Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. It’s a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Max’s hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he can’t get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours. 

Ever since getting engaged, you’d hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but you’d been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day. 

“Where would we go? And when?” The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you. 

Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days. 

“We could do it this winter? There’s always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. We’d see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.” 

You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!

December, 2025 

The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day. 

Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you hand’t done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldn’t help but continually breathe a sigh of relief. 

The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you. 

Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didn’t want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didn’t want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule you’d been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes you’d go weeks between seeing each other too. 

No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want you around. It was because he didn’t want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment. 

In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you weren’t taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick. 

You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You weren’t sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering. 

All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. “Hi baby.” He whispers, voice rough with sleep. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him. 

As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. “You looked deep in thought. Everything okay?” He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek. 

“Hmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.” 

Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villa’s lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed. 

“You still feeling okay about tomorrow?” 

Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action. 

“I am…unless you’re not?” It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Max’s face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what you’d do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow. 

Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that you’ve been living in since you got here. “Lifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.” 

Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didn’t really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldn’t always control it. 

“I know.” You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly. 

“Anxiety?” It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. “Do you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and I’m a goner. There isn’t a single second thought in my mind, love.” 

“I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. “I’m sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know  it can’t be easy.” 

You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you weren’t good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had? 

Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didn’t see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life. 

“I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits, brows raised, until you nod. “I will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, you’re mine and I’m yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.” 

Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” 

“Oh, sweet girl it’s not you that’s lucky.” Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. “I’m the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.” 

There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him you’d cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked. 

Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Max’s approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.

 It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadn’t asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready. 

You’re just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when there’s a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. He’s got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesn’t look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two. 

“Lifeje, where are -” Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought he’d been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with it’s plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. “Christ.” He whispers, unable to move from the spot he’s rooted to. 

You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. “Do I look okay?” 

Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa. 

“I am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way I’m remembering anything while I look at you.” He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. ” 

And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that he’s bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that he’s bought you. 

“What’s in the bag?” You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever. 

He seems to remember that there’s something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. “I know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.” 

You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. It’s a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box. 

When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. It’s the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought you’d never have anywhere to wear it. 

“Max.” You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Max’s own eager look. “It’s…it’s so pretty I don’t have the words. You spoil me.” 

“And I’m going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?” 

You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on. 

“Now, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?” 

Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that it’s just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect. 

Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know he’s going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, he’s as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are. 

He couldn’t have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak he’s so happy. 

The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but it’s fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. “When Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought I’d like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong I’d been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that you’ve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.” Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek. 

Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. You’re endlessly glad you both had written your vows so you’d be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach. 

“I promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,” He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. “Whatever you need, you’ll have. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words can’t accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.” 

The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know it’s now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment. 

“I stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like you’d known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think we’re criminally insane for doing this. But it’s nearly impossible to put into words what you’ve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know it’s beyond cliche but you’ve altered who I am at my very core. I’ve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.” You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize. 

“I promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that you’re on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and you’re mine. I’m so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.” 

A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond you’ve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you. 

Rings are exchanged and before you’re able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as you’re told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling. 

“I love you so much, wife.” Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife. 

maxverstappen1 posted

1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god

tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

[inbabylontheywept]

Hi there! I just read through a few of your long form posts -- the one about the boss and the glue traps and the lizards, the one about the friend and the radishes and the cop, and the one about the breakup and the car and the neighbor's car and your dad -- and I'm just really blown away by your writing. And I'm just curious, are they actual experiences or are they fiction? They read like actual experiences, and the writing is so naturalistic and...idk, low key sweet, stream of consciousness without the major sidetracking that often happens in stream of consciousness writing and also more...more poetical in a way, I guess. I don't know. Are you published or wanting to? I mean I couldn't help with that or anything but if you've got a book out I'd love to read it.

Patrick McManus was kind of THE legendary writer to my family. When my dad was a kid, he'd sit on the porch the door that the monthly copy of Outdoor Life was going to arrive, and as soon as he got it, he'd run in with it and take it to his dad, who would gather all his kids around and read the stories out loud.

My dad loved it because his dad would make a whole performance out of the readings: He'd do voices, pantomimes, dramatic sound effects, the works. The stories are amazing, but the out-of-character behavior from his dad was half the selling point. Grandpa Hank was, to his core, a good man. But he was gruff, and socially, pretty stiff, and he didn't often show emotion. I think my dad said he saw him tear up one time growing up, and it was when he got dropped off at the MTC. My mom was married to my dad for three years before Grandpa Hank was comfortable enough to sit down in their house, and he liked her. That's just how he was.

(You just praised me for not getting sidetracked, but I'm letting myself wander down those memories a bit. He died last year. I miss him terribly.)

Anyway: Those stories were how I first started learning how to spin a yarn. I got older and I got more influence than just cowboys and Westerns, but the soul of my style is still just The American Tall Tale.

Which is to say that they're not outright fabrications. When I say that I cut all the worms up in my backyard and had a panic attack and hid in a tree until my mom got me, that happened. But I only remember the vaguest outlines of the words that were said. When there's a line in that story about my mom telling me that she's sure the worms will forgive me because they got six hearts to love and no bones to pick, that's not how she talks. That's how I talk.

Other stories, they're far less fuzzy than that, but I can still point out things I don't know. Wrestling story was from middle school, and a lot of those "crisp details" are just me painting by vibe. I've had some people that did wrestling through highschool point out things like refs not actually counting to three, or how double-legs are not actually super effective for tall wrestlers. I don't actually know how much the woman I wrestled weighed, nor do I remember how much I weighed, except that I was more than two weight classes smaller than her. Car incident, I got broke up with, went to her parents door, waited on the lawn, and was given some olives to go with a wireless phone. But exact wording of a lot of the people involved fails me. As a rule, the weirder an event is, the more likely I am to be distinctly remembering it and not just filling in the background. Except for dialogue, which often turns out weird because when I have to make up things for other characters to say, it carries too much of my own speaking style in it, and that's always been weird.

There are even points where things do come right off the rails. In the stories about J post, J himself became a sort of mythic figure after he moved, and lot of the stories about him, I don't even know I'm remembering them first hand or second hand from a story someone else shared with me.

I know it would be easier to just go, yeah, they're true, or no, they're not, but I did a weird thing and mixed them up and now even I'm a little confused.

Regarding publishing: I'm not published, and the thought of trying to get published scares the shit out of me. I

I don't know. If anyone has advice, I'd be interested.

[tyungelic]

★ love taste

★ — pairing. fem!beomgyu x fem!reader

★ — summary. finals week is over and you and your best friend go out for ice cream, but you've got something big to tell her that might just change the trajectory of your friendship.

★ — tags. non-idol au, college au, coming out, internalized homophobia (implied), car sex, oral (fem receiving)

★ — word count. 1.9k words

★ — author’s note. got this request from an anon and i was so excited to write it! "we love you lesgyu" we all say in unison. thanks for reading <3

leaving your university’s testing room feels like finally escaping from prison. you head downstairs and make a beeline for beomgyu’s car as soon as you see it park in the front of your school’s main building. as soon as you slide into the passenger seat, you’re enveloped in the warmth of your best friend’s car and the smell of her woodsy cologne.

“how’d you do?”

“i think i did okay,” you say, shrugging off your coat. “i can’t do any worse than the guy before me who turned in a blank exam.”

“completely blank?” beomgyu echoes in surprise.

you nod, “nothing on it but his name. it can’t get worse than that.”

“no kidding.”

you connect your phone to the car’s bluetooth and put on the playlist that you and beomgyu made together years ago that you both still add onto every now and then. there’s no particular theme to it, just songs you think she would like and vice-versa. beauty school by deftones plays through the speakers and you zone out for a bit until beomgyu calling your name brings you back to the present moment.

“hm?”

“you texted me last night saying you wanted to talk about something,” beomgyu says, and your heart starts to beat faster.

“oh, y-yeah…”

you’ve had sneaking suspicions about being attracted to women for years now. the signs were easy to dismiss at first— feeling warm all over when a girl calls you pretty, staring at scantily clad banners of models at lingerie stores for a little too long, developing crushes on all the female villains in all the cartoons you watched growing up.

the signs became difficult to ignore once they became specific to beomgyu. her laugh, her hair, her piercings, the comfort you feel around her.

you’ve been by beomgyu’s side for every one of her piercings— industrial, helix, and orbital conch on both ears, and her tongue piercing.

these feelings came to a head when she got her snakebite piercings a month ago. she was reading the aftercare instructions to you out loud so you’d hold her accountable for cleaning them up.

“no kissing or oral,” she read. “there go our weekend plans.”

you knew it was just a joke, but the thought of doing something like that with her flooded your entire body with warmth. you’d been attracted to her for a while now, but since then, your mind has been filled with thoughts of kissing her, dragging your tongue over her snakebites and the sensation of her tongue piercing in your mouth.

“i-i think i like girls,” you confess quickly, the words clumsily rushing to leave your mouth.

beomgyu blanches, her eyes wide.

“woah, what? since when?”

you pause for a little, “i… i don’t know. maybe since always? i never really liked boys growing up and i’ve always felt more comfortable around other girls.”

“hmm, okay,” beomgyu says with a nod. “sounds pretty gay to me. what made you realize it? is there someone you like?”

you fall silent and clear your throat, worried that the silence will give away what’s really on your mind. you laugh it off nervously and try to change the topic.

“is she someone i know?” she asks.

“gyu…”

“is she in one of your clubs? like the crochet club? or one of your pen pals?”

you remain quiet, discomfort steadily increasing.

“is she… in the car with you right now?” she teases.

“gyu, seriously,” you respond tersely and, in that moment, you can just feel the vibe in the car shift. beomgyu swallows and her grip tightens on the steering wheel. the rest of the ride to your favorite ice cream place is quiet. she pulls through the drive-thru and orders for the both of you. when you pull up to the second window, you fish through your coat pocket for your wallet, but beomgyu quickly hands her card over to the cashier.

“i got it,” she says curtly, and hands you your sundae. you pull into your usual spot in the parking lot, still awkwardly quiet as you eat your respective ice creams in silence.

“sorry,” beomgyu says. “for earlier, i mean. didn’t mean to push you, i was just curious.”

“no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap at you like that, i’m just not used to the whole ‘openly liking girls’ thing. you’re the first person i’ve told.”

“makes sense that you’d come out to the only lesbo you know first,” beomgyu says with a chuckle. “you don’t have to be ashamed or embarrassed by it. i know that’s easier said than done, but really. it takes bravery to come out. i’m proud of you.”

“thanks.”

there’s another silence, though it’s much less awkward this time. however, your feelings are still weighing heavily on your heart. you swallow, trying to shake off your nervousness.

“actually, there is someone i like,” you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater. beomgyu’s ears perk up and she turns to look at you.

“oh yeah?”

“mhm…”

beomgyu looks at you expectantly and you feel your anxiety ramp back up again.

“well? tell me about her.”

you hum and bite your bottom lip. “f-for starters, she’s cool. like, really cool.”

she hums and nods, listening carefully. you wonder how many hints you can drop before she realizes it’s her.

“she’s protective and strong, but she’s a big softie,” you continue.

“—wait, you’ve got something right here,” beomgyu reaches a hand out and brushes her thumb against the corner of your bottom lip. your heart jumps and you don’t know if it’s you who leaned in or beomgyu who pulled you in first, but after a shared lingering glance, your lips connect. your eyes flutter closed and her hand moves to cradle your cheek.

“bet i’m a better kisser than her,” beomgyu mutters against your lips before leaning in to kiss you again.

you hear the click of a seat belt and your eyes widen a bit as beomgyu crawls over the console to straddle you. her warm hands finds their way to your cheeks as she softly holds your face before kissing you with a little more pressure this time. you can feel her snakebites press against your lips and your moan at the contact of the cold metal. her tongue swipes across your bottom lip and slots it into your mouth. the feeling of her tongue piercing against your tongue is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

her hands travel down your neck to grope you through your sweater, then slide under to make contact with your soft skin.

“can she touch you like this?” she whispers against your skin. “i bet she can’t. bet she can’t make you make those pretty little sounds either, hm?”

she kisses across your jaw and down your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to hold back a moan at first, then to stifle a laugh. your body shakes with mirth as beomgyu continues to kiss down your body.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“gyu, oh my god.”

“what?”

“gyu, you’re her,” you clarify with a laugh. “you’re the one i like.”

beomgyu fully pops her head up to look at you and you resist another giggle as she looks at you with wide puppydog eyes.

“i’m… huh? it’s me?”

“yes, beomgyu. i like you.”

“well, fuck… why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“i tried, but you kept interrupting!”

you both pause to look at each other for a bit before breaking into fits of laughter. she leans in to kiss you, lips soft against yours.

“in case you couldn’t tell, i like you too,” beomgyu says. “and i really wanna eat you out, like right now in this parking lot.”

your heart skips a beat and you swallow back a moan. you hum and stroke your chin, feigning as if you’re deep in thought.

“say please,” you say and beomgyu looks at you, eyes darkening when you thread your fingers through her hair and tug on it.

“fuck, lemme eat your pussy, babe. please? wanna see your panties, see how wet you are for me.” you nod your head and reach down to move your seat all the way back.

beomgyu hovers over you, her necklace dangling just over your face. you both pause, taking a moment to drink each other in.

“you’re so pretty,” she mutters and leans in to kiss you, tugging your skirt down to your knees. she kisses down your body and dips her head to kiss your inner thigh. she runs her hand up your torso to squeeze your chest and tugs your panties to the side and kisses your pussy.

“oh my god…” you moan as her tongue makes contact with your clit. she laps at your slit, her tongue flat against your pussy as she tastes every part of you. her tongue piercing makes contact with your clit and you gasp.

“oh, just like that,” you grip beomgyu’s hair tighter and she moans in turn.

“wasn’t familiar with your game, y/n,” beomgyu says with a chuckle. “keep telling me what to do, i wanna make you feel good.”

“use your fingers, please.” you squeeze your eyes shut when you feel beomgyu’s middle and index fingers slide into you, thrusting in and out slowly then pushing in all the way, curling to hit a particular spot that has your back arching off of the car seat.

“is that good? yeah?” she asks, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips when you clench around her fingers. “you’re so fucking wet, holy shit…” your thighs tremble as she sucks your clit into her mouth and continues to fuck you with her fingers.

you’re dizzied with pleasure, the car filled with the wet, sloppy sounds of beomgyu fingering and making out with your pussy. whimpers and moans leave your lips as you feel your climax getting closer, desperately humping and grinding against beomgyu’s face. her moans against your pussy are muffled as your entire body stills and you ride out your orgasm.

beomgyu pulls back and gives you a lazy smile, her chin and cheeks wet and glistening.

“look at that,” she shows off how your juices are dripping down her forearm. she maintains eye contact with you as she licks her forearm and fingers clean.

“mm, come here,” you command softly and she lowers herself on top of you and kisses you, open mouthed. you can taste yourself on her lips, slightly sweet and salty.

“hm, see how good you taste? i could have you cum on my face forever.”

you feel yourself get shy and bury your face into her neck.

“what, now you’re shy again?” beomgyu giggles.

“quit teasing me,” you whine and she kisses your forehead. you lay there together for a minute, basking in each other’s warmth.

beomgyu pulls away and returns to straddling you as she helps you clean up using the spare napkins in her cup-holder and pulls your panties and skirt back up. she crawls back into the driver's seat and watches as you move your seat back up.

“so, i dunno about you,” she starts. “but i wanna head to my place so you can keep bossing me around and i can fuck you properly. how’s that sound?”

“sounds perfect,” you say with a smile. beomgyu smiles back at you and grabs your chin to kiss you.

“so damn cute,” she coos.

[zablife]

@brummiereader That opening scene was quite chilling, knowing the truth about poor Mr. Wyatt as Y/n attempts to check on him 😬 When Tommy appears asking about her call, I couldn't help but think if she didn't confide in him, he'd make the necessary call to the switchboard operator (That is if he hadn't already!) But I must say, the thing that haunts me most is how he switches the charm on and off in front of their daughter!! The change in him always makes me shiver bc it indicates he knows exactly how he's behaving.

"The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" The way my jaw dropped and rage flew over me as soon as I read that 😡 And she believes he has a point?? She's clearly more brainwashed than I realized 😥 His taunts at the end about her foiled plans for independence are utterly heartbreaking.

Somehow I knew the visit to the school would also be her fault. It enraged me further to know Tommy is blaming Y/n once again for disrupting the household. And then he says, "So, she's got Arthur's temper." He's never willing to take the blame for anything is he???

I have to admit that I was shocked he allowed the detective to live (tho I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he's dealt with). Loving the repetition of his thought about keeping her safe bc it's a window into his delusional mind. I'm sure he does believe every rotten action of his is justified!

The scene when he talks to her sleeping form was SO GOOD!! But I had to wonder, where is this tenderness when she's awake? The constant need for control would be utterly suffocating. I mean, he's gone thru her entire wardrobe and thrown out what he won't allow her to wear? HUGE red flag!! No wonder she needs the whisky to get thru the following evening, attempting to play the happy wife.

"John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads." I was dying at this bit! Ofc everyone would be dreading a night with Linda's friends and family 🤭 And then the hymns begin? OMG, I roared bc what must they think of this wayward lot? But my amusement was short lived as I realized what had become of Y/n's admirer. Johnny Dogs is starting to frighten me as much as Tommy tbh!

" I love you..." " I never stopped...never" Another jaw dropping moment as Tommy uses an unfair advantage to coax the sentiment out of her! At first, I believed it was just the bliss of the moment, but then I realized she'd been longing for him (a fate much worse imo). "for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by." This was such a powerful moment to understand all the conflicting emotions she feels. All I could think was, God, it must be exhausting to be married to him!

That discovery at the end was by far my fave tho bc it scared the living shit out of me! She's seen the graves and she knows about the murders 😱 Oh no!! You leave us on a terrifying cliffhanger, darling! But I admit I loved every second. Already looking fwd to more (I just hope I can handle it 😬)

Binding Love (Part Four/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After another eventful morning, and onslaught of demanding questions from your husband. Linda and Arthur's engagement party has you unexpectedly seeing another side of your husband, the side you continue to yearn for. But with revealing his former self to you, comes revelations that will horrify you.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, smut.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: Sorry this chapter is late everyone. I had a busy week and not enough time to write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" When he turns up, can you have him call me?" your voice echoed down the line, fingers nervously twiddling with the twisted wire of the phone as you bit the corner of your bottom lip.

Last minute Larry his secretary had joked, you thought to yourself, reassuring your concerns as you placed the receiver down onto its brassy stand.

You just wanted to apologise, just wanted to hear the end of the nagging worries that had plagued you for the entirety of the night.

For Tommy had not only embarrassed you the previous evening with his raging paranoia, he had scared you. Scared you in a way that had your stomach turn, had you begin to fear for your own safety and the fate of your future, he held forever in his hands.

" Who was that?" your eyes snapped open to the sound of your husband's gravely voice ripiling down the curve of your neck, the lapels of his suit jacket gently brushing across the back of your flowing dress.

" No one" you flatly replied, your attempts to leave stopped by your husband's snaking hand slipping around your stomach.

" Don't lie to me, sweetheart" you felt the heat of his breath fan over your ear as he turned you around to face him.

Stood face to face, his looming frame pressed tightly against your heaving chest, forcing a suffocating response from you as you watched his gaze slowly drift to the telephone, brow cocking as he waited for your answer. " Well?"

"Mr Wyatts secretary. I just wanted to apologise, for leaving so...abruptly, last night" you chose your words wisely, choosing not to further rile his unpredictable temper up with lies he'd undoubtedly sive out as you attempted to pull away from his searching eyes.

" And how is, Mr Wyatt?" Tommy let go as his hand slipped into his jacket for a cigarette, clearing his throat of the curling smirk toying on the corner of his lips as he scooted his muddy boot away from you and the evidence of his nightly hobbies.

" Fine. He's fine" you replied, brow scrunching at his shuffling feet and usually pristine footwear inching away, when your intentions to be honest were overruled by a profund urge within you to not give your smug husband the satisfaction of thinking he'd gotten to someone.

But unbeknownst to you, he had gotten to someone. Gotten to someone in the most sinful, most derranged of ways that ended with a dead body and a trail of mud leading to his crime scene.

" Is that so, eh?" He took a lingering drag of the tobacco rolled between his fingers, blowing a cloud of smoke to the towering ceilings of your home before his eyes drifted down to meet yours with a glistening stare of mischievousness.

How sweet, how...Innocent, he thought to himself with amusement as your heart froze with a gut wrenching feeling of doubt that the previous night hadn't ended with Tommy's parting words and the slam of your bedroom door.

" Ay up, buttercup" Tommy's smirks left you with a sense of dread as his attention drifted to your daughter, nudging herself between your bodies,  beaming up at her parents with a dimpled smile. " How's my girl, eh?"

" Suited and booted, Daddy" she replied with all the seriousness her rosy cheeked pout could muster.

" Right come on then, little soldier. Let's go" Tommy jostled in his pocket for his car keys as the loving smile for your six year old suddenly dropped from your face.

" Wait, i'm...i'm taking her" you looked back at your husband with a scrunched brow of annoyance, reinforcing your intentions with a firm hand to his chest to stop him from invading your morning routine, a routine you was adamant on keeping.

" The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" he played the doting father as he watched your fingers fall from his chest, a wave of shame reddening your cheeks.

" They want to speak with us, together" he grabbed your parting hand, closing the gap between you.

" But you would have known that if you were ever home, with your family" his blazing eyes of turquoise, still seething with jealousy from the previous day, bore into you with a hushed statement of blame.

Was he right? Had you been spending less time at home? Less time with your daughter? It was one evening...one. Or had it...had it been more than that? Your mind began to torment you with the seeds of doubt Tommy had sewn, for the confusion beginning to fester away at your already weary thoughts.

Playing you so harmously in tune to the sound of his own fiddle, you stepped away, your searching hand reaching for your daughter with a look of worry settled between your brow as you racked your brain over the last six months worth of tangled memories.

" Not gonna take the bus then? Get there on your own, on your own terms, after that song and dance you made last night, hm?" His pettiness came to a simmer as he stalked towards you, unwilling to let you forget how angry you had made him, how he had been forced to make such drastic decsions on your behalf to keep you safe.

Feeling the pull of Elsie's hand, giving you no choice but to let Tommy have his satisfaction upon seeing you give in, you followed your daughter without a peep of defiance to the car with your husband's passing comments whispering in your ear. 

" That new life of yours lasted long, didn't it, darling?"

Unable to dodge the talking down from the headmaster you was sure you was about to get, you and Tommy got pulled to the side as your daughter joined her classmates for the day's activities.

" So?" Tommy huffed as he pulled out his pocket watch from within his waistcoat, convinced that whatever the man had to say was not worth his time nor patience.

" It's about your daughter's behaviour" the words of the suited man plunged your motherly worries into your stomach in one quick, sudden drop.

" What...what has she done?" You stepped forward from Tommy's side, concerned as to what had been so grave it warrented both you and your husband's prescence.

" Not only has she been misbehaving, Mr and Mrs Shelby, but she took it upon herself to pick the roses in the school yard during lunch yesterday. Earning her a detention, I assume you are both unaware of" his nose rose above his framed glasses as he judged not only your supposedly unruly child but you and Tommy, her unruly parents.

" You had my daughter sent to detention for picking a fucking flower?" Tommy stepped in front of you, brow furrowing at the punishment inflicted on your child for something he believed to be innocent, if not expected of any little girl or boy of her age.

" They were very special flowers, Mr..Mr Shelby. A school project, participated in by all the students" all superiority, his position as head teacher began to disapate as he caught sight of your husband's gun concealed beneath the heavy lapels of his coat.

" You're wasting our fucking time" Tommy scoffed, turning to leave with a guiding hand to your back, refusing to entertain the ridiculousness of the conversation and its supposed urgency.

" Tommy" you rested a gentle hand to his arm, a soothing enough touch to simmer the anger within him and have him take note of your welling eyes of worry.

" I'll have my gardener come and plant new ones. Better ones. We done now, Mr...?" Tommy waved his hand in front of him, swallowing back his irritation for your sake, if only to have the feeling of you seeking his support for a mere second longer, to feel that you needed him again. 

" Mr Shelby, that will not solve your daughter's naughtiness. I've become aware of some news as of late. I must ask, is everything ok at home?" The head of the school pressed, daring to rile your husband up with his relentless questions.

" What was that, eh?" Your husband's patience with the matter in hand suddenly snapped into a demanding need to know what exactly possessed the man in front of him to ask such a thing.

" Well, I...heard that you were..." He stumbled out his response, suddenly conscious of how far he had pushed his questions as you tried to pull Tommy back from cracking his skull open.

" Married" Tommy pointed his finger as his body loomed over the man unable to keep to his own business and not prod into that of the notorious brummie gangster.

" We're leaving" a hand to your back had you rushing out the corridor as you stopped yourself from pushing his anger to boiling point with the true state of your marriage and your impending demands of divorce, yet to be settled.

" Fuck 'em, Y/N" he ushered you outside to the car.

" We'll change schools, to a private one" he settled the problem his money could solve, refusing to face the true issue.

" Fucking flowers..." He scoffed, reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette to simmer his anger.

" Me and Arthur did far more than pick a few daisies to earn us detention, darling" a chuckle left his lips as he pulled out his lighter, eyes darting to the school he'd be inclined to see go up in flames, flowers and all.

" It's not about that, Tommy" you sighed as you watched his straining fingers attempt to light the flame in the drizzle that had turned into a lashing of rain.

" So, she's got Arthur's temper" he waved off your concerns, mumbling through the cigarette perched between his lips as his failing attempts to light it saw his patience dwindling.

" Your temper more like. Shelby temper" you huffed with folded arms, brow creasing as you watched his thumb repeatedly flick over the lighter's metal head without success.

" Tommy she's acting out, she's seeing too much.  Us arguing, us fighti..."

" What do you want me do, eh Y/N?!" your husband snapped, throwing his soggy cigarette to the ground.

" You wanted this, not me!" he grabbed you by your arms as the pelting rain battered down onto your shoulders.

" Fuck Y/N, you really think...you really think I would give you up that easily? Let you leave me without a fight?" his head dropped down with a sigh of exhaustion as a silence washed over you with the rivers of water streaming past your feet.

" What are we doing, Tommy?" What are we doing to our little girl?" you began to sob, feeling his fingers clutch onto your arms, pulling you down with the weight of his body as his heavy shoulders slouched forward.

" Lets go home" he refused to answer as his head came up to meet the tears streaming down your cheeks, hand brushing the sorrowful sight of your drenched locks from your face.

" I'll walk" you pulled away with disappointment, turning to leave from the conversation you could never move past as his way continued to demand all control.

" Make my own way, remember? Get there on my own. So I can think, alone" you left him with the words he had spoken that morning, a string of words said in passing by him but ones that still continued to sting you.

" It's pissing it down, you'll get sick. Get in, I'll drive you home" you pushed off his attempts to usher you into the warmth of the car as you walked into the downpour.

" It'll do you know good to think alone Y/N. Y/N! " Tommy stood in the rain watching you walk away from him once again before nodding to his man lingering near by in an unspoken order to have him follow you when the insufferable sight of the detective that had be hassling you came into view, body propped up against the door of his car.

Always fucking there. Always trying to get to you, Tommy slammed his door shut as his eyes narrowed in, fingers turning the silver key in the ignition with only one plan of action in mind. 

Foot pressed on the accelerator, Tommy sped towards him, swerving into his car with controlled prescion as the screeching tires skidding across the concrete came mere centimetres away from taking him out. A clear show of dominance by your husband, to prove to the inquisitive officer that nothing was beneath him, nothing he wouldn't do to keep the upper hand, to have you keep quiet.

He was just keeping you safe. Keeping everyone...safe.

Aching muscles and a sniveling nose, sick from your long pensive walk in the rain back to Arrow House, hadn't been on your list of things to endure before Linda and Arthur's engagement doo that evening. And with Tommy being right about the likely outcome of your stubbornness and refusal to have him drive you home, you had decided to drown yourself within the comfort of your bed than see the satisfaction on his face.

Curled up in within the freshly laundered sheets, you let yourself drift off to sleep as the man whose smugness you couldn't stand to face watched from the bedroom door, glass of water in hand with only a face of conern etched between his brows than the cockiness you thought you'd be met with.

" I hate to tell you I told you so, love" he quietly sighed as he padded towards you, placing the crystal tumbler on your bedside cabinet.

Perching himself on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own worries pushing his body down into the soft mattress as he ran his fingers through the length of his hair, pulling at the strands of stress.

" I can't help myself, darling" he confessed his lack of self-control in the silence, taking the opportunity to lay bare his sins as he watched you peacefully sleep, your mind momentarily free from the stress, from the shouting and arguing.

" Everything I do..." He stopped himself as he pinched his brow of the inner turmoil he felt. " Everthing I've done, it's been for you" he lifted his hand, inching it closer to your face and the lone twisted lock of hair resting on your cheek.

" I'm trying, love" he quietly added, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions scrambling up his throat, fully aware of his unpredictable temper that saw him doing the unspeakable, wholeheartedly believing his bloody hands were stained in your honour, for your safety.

" I'm just a man" he dulled his actions, justified his merciless slayings with his mortal, imperfect form as he brushed the lone ringlet of hair from your fluttering lashes.

"Y/N?" a part of him hoped you were listening, hoped you had heard his admissions of guilt.

" One day you'll forgive me" he snatched his hand away from your resting body, clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to flee his exposed vulnerabilities he felt foolish for laying bare as you began to stir in your sleep.

But rest was far from what you awoke to. For what was supposed to be a relieving sleep, turned into a thumping headache, drilling into the sides of your skull.

" Fuck" you huffed, lifting yourself from the covers as you forgoed the glass of water sitting on the table for the bottle of whiskey behind it.

If you were going to get through tonight, through Linda's obnoxious happiness, the reminder of your strained relationship, through this pummeling heachache, you would do it half conscious, you thought to yourself as you swigged back the amber liquid.

" Frances, what ever would I do without you?" your eyes drifted to the dress hooked on your bathroom door, your trusted housekeeper had managed to find for you after Tommy took it upon himself to rid you of anything that showed an inch of skin.

Fingers gliding over the silky crimson gown, you admired the beauty of the garment in front of you. It's soft fabric running through your palms until you came to a stop at the slit that Frances had sewn up after Tommy's demands.

Too high, too low, too much on show, Tommy's disaproving words rang in your head after the countless times he'd given his unwarranted opinions on your latest purchases.

At first you were flattered, flattered by his boyish jealousy that you'd comply. But when his jealousy came with a dousing of paranoia, and questions over who exactly you were dressing for, you began to resent the passionate show of love he'd shown.

Downing the last of the whiskey you threw the empty bottle on your bed before sizing up the satin dress and it's seemless sewing.

" There..." your face twisted as you pulled at the fabric, ripping the slit open and its looping threads one by one.

" That's better" you pulled the dress from its hanger, proping it up against your body to see your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and the provacating point you wanted to make.

Whether it be the whiskey that had fuelled your actions, the thumping headache or your frustrations with yourself for not standing your ground. One thing was sure, you was adamant on matching Tommy's pettiness and show him the true meaning of jealousy and the stark difference between what he believed was you challenging him.

" Tommy, don't" Ada's hushed voice turned to him, blocking your husband's eyes honed in on you giggling into the shoulder of a guest. A male guest. " She's just..."

"Trying to wind me up?" Tommy stepped away from his younger sister to see you glancing over at him, hips turning for him to see the provocking sight of your dress the way it was intended to be worn and not how he had Frances adjust it to his liking.

"...letting her hair down" Ada sighed, scooting herself back into his line of sight to save you from his glaring anger.

" Letting her hair down. Is that what that's called, eh?" he scoffed, tipping his glass in your direction, to the man accompanying you. The same man enthusiastically tending to your every need in a handsy display that had you flinch away, spilling the flute of champagne down yourself.

"Clumsy, clumsy" he chuckled, leering in as he pulled out his hankie to wipe the spilt droplets of bubbly that had trickled down your exposed thigh.

" Shit" Ada sighed, her protective stance not enough for her brothers fox-like eyes to see red the moment the gentleman beside you took it upon himself to dab away your clumsiness.

"It's ok, really" your panicked hands pulled the handkerchief from him as the shine of his gold cufflinks, encrusted with ruby gems caught your eye when a set of heavy footsteps appeared through your lashes. 

" What are you playing at, eh?!" Tommy snatched you away to the darkened corner underneath your winding foyer stairs.

" Nothing" you huffed, lifting your glass to your painted lips with a pout, feeling your legs sway from side to side as the champagne and half bottle of whiskey you had chugged earlier began to take effect.

" I know what you're doing" he snatched the crystal glass from your hand, tossing it's contents on a nearby leafy houseplant, unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" Good. Is it working?" Your brow arched, unable to stop the emerging teen girl from your younger years trying to rile up her boyfriend of one week.

" Yes" Tommy's response took you by surprise, his battered eyes tired of arguing, catching you off guard as his finger trailed up your bare leg, closing the silky fabric around your exposed skin to save your modesty. " I came to you earlier. Did you hear me whe..."

" Speeches, everyone! My Artie wants to say something" Linda's voice broke the tiny glimpse into your past, your husband's soft voice only reserved for you, free from demands, from the constant bickering that had taken over your daily life.

"Y/N, wait..." His reaching hand held onto the tips of your fingers, backing away to join the happy couple as Tommy's breathy sighs followed you, his change in mood confusing you enough to put up your guard in fear that his unexpected move was just another calculated step in his unwinnable game of toing and froing with your emotions.

Was Tommy finally done? Too tired to fight?

 " 'ere's to Arthur and Linda" everyone drew a breath as John's tipsy speech came to its highly anticipated end. His waving hand, gesturing a toast to the happy couple, seeing the last of his gin at the feet of Linda's emmaculate heels.

Too much joy, too much happiness for any Shelby family member to endure, John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads. 

"Right, yeh...thanks John boy" Arthur's twitching moustache and gangly legs rose from his seat only for his brother to pipe up with another string of words he'd have heard. 

"One last thing, yeh" he clapped his hands together as you felt the gentlemen that had been lingering close to you all night scoot along the plush settee next to you. A move that had you slipping half of your seat away from his unwarranted attention you no longer sought out to irritate your husband with. 

"May yous two one day 'ave the love of your hosts tonight. Alright lads, have at it. Bottoms up!" your heart raced at Johns drunken speech, watching him bring his empty glass up to his lips as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment at your and Tommy's contradicting relationship being made a highlight of the evening.

" Right John, let's get you some water" Ada hurried to her rambling brother, ushering him away from over indulging himself in anymore of Tommy's cellar full of booze as she mouthed her silent apologies to you.

" Never have I seen a love like that. It breaks my bloody heart, Ada. Breaks me 'art!" John's passionate speech continued as your welling eyes drifted up to the pining pare of your husband's and the impact your brother-in-law's unexpected words had mutually effected you both.

" Yes, we're all very heartbroken. Now, shut up" you heard the last of Ada's motherly tone drift from the room as one of Linda's guests took it upon themselves to drone out the awkward silence with an equally awkward, droning hym to top off the disastrous evening.

"The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee..." 

Head downcast, you let your tears fall into your lap as the singing commenced, desperately trying to hide your seeping emotions and the slit in your dress with fumbling fingers as you glanced up at Tommy gesturing you with a tilt of his head to join him, to let him comfort you.

But with a downfall of tears worthy of the storm battering against the windows from outside, you fled from your seat to the empty confides of your foyer as Tommy lept up after you.

"Wher...where are you going?" the man that had hounded you all evening followed in suit, furious his intended fuck for night was getting away as Tommy shot his trusted friend Dogs a silent command to deal with the unwelcome guest until he'd checked on you. 

" Are you a gambling man?" Johnny's chesire grin and looping arm wrapped around the gentleman's shoulders, guiding him out of Arrow Houses back door down to its vast landscape, and woody end. 

" Five shillings here, says you won't be able to outrun..." the rules of Dogs game drifted outside with his steady steps into the night sky, until the faint shrieks of a scream could be heard amongst the improtu singing from within the warmth of your home. 

Letting yourself fall into bed, you buried your head in your pillow as the soft click of the door closed and the dwindling sounds of the party faded out to Tommy's body settling itself next to you on the plush covers. 

" Hey shh, c'mere" he pulled you into his chest, your reluctance rapidly fading as you nestled your cheek against his body. Needing the gentle side of your husband he'd let free for the evening to soothe the pang of heartache you felt, for the memories of the love you shared that had resurfaced after John's blundering speech.

" Bloody John, eh?" his chest rose with a chuckle, lacing his fingers in your hair as he inched his body closer to you when a stifled sob left your throat.

" I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so tired of everything" you sniffed, pawing at the cascade of unstoppable tears streaming down your cheeks with frustration as your husband gently lifted your chin to him. 

" I know, darling" his voice echoed the sentiments you felt as he took over from your shakey hands, and gently wiped the pools of sadness from your lashes. 

Eyes gazing longingly into each others, Tommy bet against any rejection you'd see his ego take another dramatic fall with, and pressed a chase kiss to your lips as you pulled your head away. 

" Stop. Just stop ..." he sighed, turning you back to face him as his fingers glided down your neck, drawing you in with his tender touch. 

" I love you" his nose brushed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, hands gently squeezing at your body with his mouth agape with anticipation. 

" Don't say you don't either" he swallowed back, fingers trailing under the curves of your breasts as he let out a breathy moan.

" I don't" you let the last of your tears fall from your cheeks as you abruptly turned your back to him, pushing his needy hands away. 

" You're lying" he huffed, letting his head fall back against the silk cushion, arm rested above the lengths of his hair as he brushed along the bar of frustration across his brow. 

" So those tears didn't mean anything then, eh? " he abruptly turned to slot his body behind you, lips kissing along your neck as he burrowed his hand under the cleavage of your dress, cupping your breast in his hand with a squeeze. 

Eyes shooting open, you clawed at the bed sheets as a surge of pleasure rushed through your body, head dizzy with the image of your husband gently thrusting himself into your clothed body in the reflection of your bedroom window. 

" Say it, Y/N. Say you love me, say you still want me, need me" his voice moaned with urgency as his eyes flew up to yours in the weathered glass.

"I don't..." Your voice hitched in a pitiful attempt to lie through your feelings as you pushed back to meet his straining erection pressed against your body. 

In one swift movement, Tommy ripped the front of your dress, exposing your body for him to see in your shared reflection as your hand flew to his thigh, nails digging through the tailored fabric. 

" Lies, all lies" he hissed, encouraged by the sweet sounds of your whimpers he'd longed to hear again. " Say it. Say it so we can forget about it all, about everything" 

" I..." you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to repress the strangled moan he was adamant on coaxing from you as he rolled his thumb around your stiffened nipple. 

" I love you..." your voice cracked, eyes opening to the sudden feeling of your husband's hands coming to a stop as you stared back with teary eyes at him in the backdrop of the starry skies, reflecting your bodies in the window of your bedroom. " I never stopped...never"

Flipping you onto your back, Tommy's lips crashed onto yours in a seering kiss of passion, ridding you of what was left of your clothes and the suit that had him seperating himself from the heat of your body. 

Hips snapping into you with each carefully positioned thrust, Tommy was adamant on making you forget, adamant on fucking you until he was convinced of your admission, until his paranoia let him believe it. 

"No more fucking divorce, eh?" He groaned, pushing his throbbing cock into the depths of you as his body rippled with pleasure. 

"No more separate rooms" his snapping hips sped up, causing a string of muffled moans to leave your swollen lips as you let yourself be free of the stress he'd induced.

"No more, Y/N. Say it?" He brought your legs up against his sweaty chest, lifting your lower body of the bed as he thrusted into you with abandon. Muscled arms straining, face scrunched as he desperately restrained himself from falling over the edge without an answer.

"Fuck...say it, sweetheart" He breathed heavily on the edge of blissful defeat as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. Both pining for each other, to feel at one with another like nothing had happened, like the many months worth of distress and arguing hadn't seperated you. 

" No more...no more!" your head flew back to your cushion, hands grabbing at the sheets as he brought you to a heated ecstasy of pleasure, spilling months worth of longing into you with a strangled grunt as he threw his head back in relief. 

Giving up, giving in. In that moment, not a thought or regret was spent caring. Tangled emotions and misplaced promises would be dealt with tomorrow. But for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by.

Pulling you into his lap, Tommy brushed his tongue against yours as he reached between your sweating bodies to grab hold of his hardening cock, pulling you down onto him as his fiery breath bristled against your ear and he made his intentions known for the night.

"Again" 

" And these flowers I can pick?" Your daughter skipped alongside you as you made your way down to the gardens. 

" Yes, once they've bloomed, you can pick all of them. Every, single, one" you bent down to her little frame, sending her a playful wink as she ran off with an excited shriek. 

Keeping a watchful eye on your daughter as she collected every mismatch stick she could find through the treeline to border her very own rose garden, your hand slipped across your stomach, hugging your body with a blissful smile as you recounted the passionate evening you had spent with Tommy last night.

" Mummy, we have moles!" Your daughter's voice alerted you to her discovery as you pulled yourself from your heated thoughts. " Fat ones!" 

" Elsie!" You called back, weaving yourself through the towering trees, treading carefully along the woodlands grassy bedding, when a shining gold cufflink caught your eye.  

" Mummy, come look!" She excitedly shouted as you bent down to the curious object out of place amongst the woody surroundings, it's ruby encrusted focal point sparking a hazy memory within you. " They must be giants!" 

"Giant moles, are you..." You laughed only to grab her by the hand and pull her back when you came face to face with the three heaps of mud in a line next to each other. 

"Here mummy, daddy's" she gave you the matching cufflink she'd found on top of the freshly unearthed mountain, assuming the small piece of jewellery could belong to no one else but her father. 

" Elsie....come" your eyes widened, pulling her away from what was not mole hills but graves. Three graves, each with distingualble shades of dirt, in a haunting timeline of murder that had stretched over many days, if not weeks. 

The officer. The businessman. Unheard of since their encounters with you, your horrified eyes looked at the growing graveyard, convinced of who lay beneath each plot and their enforcers muddy boots, and remarks that trailed themselves back to their murder scene, when the clouds cleared your fogged memory about the small trinkets nestled within your palm. The gentlemen...

Hands clutching the cufflinks piercing against your reddening skin, your welling eyes unable to blink through the terror you felt had you pacing up the hill with shaky legs as your daughter ran ahead. 

"Daddy!" she lept into the arms of Tommy making his way down to meet you with a content smile, body and soul free of his sins.

" Everything ok, darling?" he pressed a tender kiss to your lips as your stance stiffened, hand releasing the cufflinks from behind you back into the grassy lawn as your shakey voice answered...

" Perfect" 

 

Next Part coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica

[10byten]

Soft Spot for u

- When you started college, one of the student associations assigned you a senior mentor. Back then, you never thought you'd still be friends with him as you enter your final year, while he’s already long graduated. Even less that he’d be the guy of your dreams—the one who makes your heart race. -

Words : 2.6K

You’ve never been much of a party girl. Well, not in the “nightlife scene” kind of way. But a night owl ? That’s totally you. Staying up late doing all the things the daytime doesn’t allow ? That’s your jam. Especially when you’re spending those nights with him.

Since your freshman year, Yuta has been your go-to for late-night hangs: studying, laughing, bickering, drinking, and dancing. You quickly adapted to his vibe - even though, unlike you, he thrives in the nightlife. He loves hopping from on-campus parties to the city’s best clubs. For Yuta, you’d adjust to anything. Normally, you’re not big on people or physical contact, but with him, it’s different.

The first time he asked you to join him at a party, you tagged along, thinking, Why not? At least I’ll have a story to tell. You didn’t like dancing in public—the stares, the unwanted touches—but his touch? That was different. Before long, you were showing up to every party he invited you to, becoming a campus party regular.

Little did they know, you hated parties. You only went for him. For those moments on the dancefloor when his hands rested protectively on your hips, silently warning other guys to back off. It drove you crazy that it felt more big brotherly than anything else. But when you danced together, something shifted. He wasn’t being protective—just… present.

You’ve always wanted to make a move, but the fear of losing him held you back. If he hadn’t made the first move, it probably meant your feelings weren’t mutual. Right? But honestly, just being by his side was better than being with anyone else.

Yuta changed you—not just in how you see relationships, but in how you see life. He was more than a mentor for academics; he pulled you out of your comfort zone and into a brighter, more open world.

Waiting for him to pick you up tonight, you’re lost in thought, touching up your makeup as Keshi’s Soft Spot plays in the background. Your phone buzzes.

Yuta: Be there in 2 mins, love.

You grin, his name lighting up your screen. Gosh, this man owns my heart.

When you hop on his bike, he whistles, eyes raking over your silver sequin dress.

“You planning to set the campus on fire tonight? I don’t remember telling you to outshine me, little miss.”

“No one’s hotter than you, Yuta.” You flirt back, the way you always do when he compliments you. It gives you butterflies every time.

He smirks, giving you a playful smack on the thigh. “Flattery’ll get you far, baby. Keep it up.”

At the party, Yuta, as usual, commands attention. Walking in with him feels like entering as a rockstar’s date—his magnetic aura turning every head. You join his friends—Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung—who’ve already lined up shots.

Johnny hands you a suspiciously colorful concoction. You sniff it. “Johnny, is this safe? Because I really don’t want to start the semester in the ER.”

Everyone laughs, and Taeyong teases, “Sometimes I forget you’re still in school. Those were the days…”

Shots clink, faces grimace, and the party kicks off. But soon, the buzz, the chaos, and the alcohol start working their magic on your senses. All you want is to dance—with him.

The noise, the games, the music, the chaos of people chatting and singing along, all the stuff happening around you, mixed with the alcohol buzzing in your veins, has your senses on high alert. And now, you only want one thing—to dance with him. You’ve shared him with the crowd long enough, and now it’s your turn. Just you and him, in your world, even if it’s just for a bit.

You leave Jungwoo and Kai behind, still going at that ridiculous card game where every rule somehow ends in "take a sip." It’s funny as hell, you can admit that, but nah—right now, you need him. It’s all you can think about.

You find him at the bar, mid-conversation. You head toward him, sitting by the counter, your mind racing with one single thought: you wanna throw your arms around his neck and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. His legs are spread like he’s waiting just for you, a couple of messy strands of hair falling into his eyes, and his half-unbuttoned shirt teasing you with a glimpse of that stunning belly piercing and a peek at his tattoo.

You stop in front of him, hesitating for a second. He’s still chatting with Taeyong but doesn’t miss a beat, sliding an arm around your waist like, yeah, I know you’re here. That little gesture? making you go crazy, and without a second thought, grab his wrist and pull him to the dancefloor. Pressed against him, your bodies move in sync, his hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. Butterflies? More like fireworks. 

He’s totally getting with your vibe, moving with you like he’s reading your mind. When you turn around, you catch that huge smile lighting up his face—and wow, it’s the kind of smile that hits you right in the gut. He’s loving this moment, and it’s setting off a full-on butterfly storm in your stomach.

You kinda wish his smile wasn’t this attractive, this unfairly cute, this stupidly sexy. Because all you can think about is kissing him senseless. Like, right now.

You keep getting closer, grinding up against him more, and for some reason tonight, you’re feeling extra bold. You slide your fingers into his, guiding his hand to trace your curves in a way that’s definitely more suggestive than usual. Yuta doesn’t just go along with it—he’s into it. His response is all green lights, like his body is totally in tune with yours, wanting this as much as you do.

You feel his breath on your neck as you press your back against his chest, and yeah, it’s short. Is he... out of breath because of you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and without even thinking, you push your hips back against him, swaying like it’s second nature.

And then you feel it—him. Hard. For you.

That’s the last green light you need. You turn, locking eyes, fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him, pouring years of longing into it. He kisses back—hungry, desperate.

Next thing you know, you’re in a dimly lit laundry room, pinned against the door as his lips crash back onto yours. His hands are everywhere, his voice dripping with desire.

He kisses you again, and this time it’s pure, raw desire. Like, where the hell has he been hiding all this? Not that it matters—you’re practically melting in his hands. Your skin’s on fire, and it feels like your blood is boiling. He’s gonna make you explode, like you’re some freaking nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown.

The only way you can even begin to handle this insane craving is by biting his bottom lip, cutting the kiss short. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and there’s this spark in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“I didn’t know you had this bad girl side,” he says, smirking. “You’ve always been my sweet, innocent Y/n.”

“Not that innocent I guess, if only you knew about my dirty secret.” 

“Hmm tell me more baby” you smile hearing the petname he gave you, you love it soo much. 

“I touch myself so many times, soaking my panties, just thinking ‘bout you” 

He groan “You didn’t.” 

“I can’t even count how many times since I know you, you’re my favorite fantasm.” You say a lil bit shyly. 

He looks into your eyes, a proud smile on his face. “Then allow me to make the fantasy come true.”  He takes hold of your dress, so small that it doesn't take much effort for him to expose your already soaked thong. He slides two fingers over your pussy to caress you through the fabric.

“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” he growls, fingers brushing against the lace of your underwear.

“Only for you, daddy,” you whisper, testing the nickname that’s been on your mind for way too long.

He freezes, then smirks. “Gosh, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

You've never been so willing in your life. You only dream of one thing: his tongue on you and IN you. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder to get better access. You feel his breath on your inner thigh and you moan at the sensation alone. 

“Oh god.” He look at you, from the bottom and smirk “You can call me Yuta.” And with those words he wraps your whole soaking pussy in his mouth. First he eats you through the fabric of your thong. Then, using his fingers, he shifts it to the side. He flicks his tongue up and down your folds and then concentrates on your clitoris, sucking gently. The stimulation sends you into heaven, you feel as if you've left this earth. And then he starts playing at your entrance with one of his fingers, looking at you “Want me to get inside baby girl?”

“Yes, please, yes !”

 “Your wish is my command.”

He takes hold of your clit again, nibbling lightly, then gently and deliciously slides a finger into your pussy, soon adding a second, which you welcome as a blessing. You try to be as quiet as possible, but your little cries and sobs excite Yuta even more. He picks up the pace and eats you up like he's starving, tasting you like you’re his last meal, you’re trembling. Soon you feel your orgasm coming on and you press down on Yuta's shoulder as if to let him know you're about to burst. He smiles, "Let it go baby, I'm here for you.” You feel the most powerful orgasm you've ever had in your life rushing through you. And this time you can't help yourself, you moan his name out loud and pray that no one else walks by at the same time. He stands up and sucks on each of his two fingers in front of you. Then he slides his tongue back into your mouth. 

“I think you can still feel yourself on my tongue, so much that I've sucked you in.” You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting more, but Yuta slows the pace. “Maybe we should slip away before we're noticed.

You slip out quietly, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. On the way back, you’re still all sensitive from the way he completely wrecked you earlier. When Yuta pulls up in front of your dorm, he looks a little more hesitant than before. Still, you invite him to come up with you for a bit.

As you close the door to your apartment, you see him sitting on the couch, his hands covering his face like he’s deep in thought. But you don’t stop to overthink it—he’s already given you too much tonight for you to back down now. You climb onto his lap and kiss him, slow and intense. He kisses you back but suddenly pulls away.

“Wait,” he says, looking at you seriously. “I need to understand what’s happening here. Like, what are we doing right now?”

You stare at him, confused. “Do you want a diagram or something?”

“No, I mean, seriously. Isn’t this, like, a bad idea? I’m older than you, and you’re totally wasted. I am too, actually.”

“So what?”

“So yeah, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ll probably regret it tomorrow. I don’t want to mess things up between us. You mean a lot to me and—”

You cut him off with a dramatic wave, making it clear he needs to stop talking immediately. “This is unreal. Stop seeing me as the clueless first-year kid who doesn’t know anything and needs a protector. Yuta, I don’t want a protector—I want you.”

He just stares at you, speechless.

“I got a soft spot for you, from the very beginning,” you continue, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve been hoping every single day since we met that one day you’d wake up and feel the same. But you’ve always had this big brother vibe, and God, it’s been killing me, because I love your attention, I love how affectionate you are, and how you’re always there for me. But Yuta, I want so much more than that. I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare you off or ruin what we have. But seriously, I’ve been into you since day one. So please, stop being my bro—be my lover. Tonight, I felt like it was now or never. There was this moment, this chance, and hell, it’s my last year. I want to leave this university finally dating the guy I’ve been crushing on since freshman year. So if you’re not into it, just say it, but please stop looking at me like I’m some little kid and start seeing the woman I could be by your side.”

Yuta’s lips crash onto yours, giving you the single greatest kiss of your life.

“So you’ve been this into me for all this time, and you never said a word?” he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

“Yuta, please. I’m not exactly the most social person, but I’ve spent practically all my time with you. I hate parties, yet I’ve been at them every week since I met you. I HATE octopus, but I learned how to make Takoyaki like a pro. I think Naruto is the most boring anime ever, but I binged every damn season. Why do you think I did all that? For who?” you shoot back, exasperated.

“Uh… sorry?” he mutters sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. Honestly, I love most of those things now because they remind me of you, or they’re just so you. I don’t force myself. If it means spending time with you, it’s always worth it in the end.”

He smiles at you, soft and affectionate.

“I’ll admit, I’ve thought about this a lot over the years too,” he says quietly. “But the age gap always felt like too much. And I had this mentor role, you know? I didn’t want to look like some creepy older guy. More than that, I didn’t want to lose you or ruin what we have.”

Your heart pounds at his words. So he doesn’t see you as some desperate little kid, and, more importantly, the guy of your dreams feels the same way about you.

“Can you say it out loud, though? Just once?” you tease him.

“I got a soft spot for you, Y/n.”

“No, no, no, you can do better than that.”

He chuckles, running his tongue along his cheek, clearly amused but knowing you’re not letting this go.

“I got a big crush on you.”

Your smile stretches ear to ear, and you crash your lips against his again. He responds instantly, sliding his tongue against yours, his hands moving to your hips as he pulls you closer. Then, without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to your room, laying you gently on the bed.He trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “If you play your cards right tonight, sweetheart, you just might get me to admit I maybe am in love with you by the end of it.”

[writing-rat]

Gifts

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Warnings: Mentions of a taxidermy squirrel

Content: Gift giving, fluff

Summary: Wednesday and Enid arrive back after Winter break with gifts for each other, some more personal than others.

WC: 1593

Winter break had just finished and Enid was excited to go back. She could be away from her family, and see Weems again (who survived the poisoning but had a permanent limp). She also wanted to see Wednesday again as she had a gift for her. They had been texting during the winter break and she was happy about that. Wednesday still wanted to interact with her after all and that was her dream. She didn’t know why though and her mom refused to say. Esther actually tried to get Enid to date a worthy boy (who was an alpha each time conveniently). She rejected each one at least. She cited that Ajax was her boyfriend after all. Really, Ajax and Enid were not together. They broke up after a week but it was mutual, with no harsh feelings. Enid was relieved about that as she didn’t want to break his heart. That was when he admitted that he was starting to think he had a crush on Kent, and she was happy about that. She supported him after all. 

Eventually, the car stopped, and she grabbed her bags, leaving her family immediately. She saw the Addams’ hearse outside of the school and she was happy to know that Wednesday was already back. She rushed towards her room, ignoring the yell of her mother as she was soon skipping into her room, where Wednesday’s parents were. “Oh, hi Mrs and Mr Addams,” she spoke politely, Wednesday sorting out her clothes as her parents set everything else up. 

“Hello dear, how was Winter break? And please, call us Morticia and Gomez,” Morticia spoke with a smile.

“Yes ma- I mean Morticia. And winter break went as well as it could. If you don’t mind me asking… what are you doing helping Wednesday? I thought she hated it,” she asked. “Well… since that night, Wednesday hasn’t been the best. She is doing well, but she feels phantom pain. We want to thank you for saving our daughter though, how you wolfed out for her and we appreciate it,” Gomez answered, clapping his hand on Enid’s shoulder, who was smiling brightly. “It is no problem, she’s one of my best friends. I would do anything for her,” she spoke with a smile. 

“You are a good wolf. Do you plan on courting her?” Morticia asked curiously. 

“Huh?” Enid asked confused. “No. I don’t like her like that… I think. Why are you asking?” she added, wanting to know answers admittedly. 

“Well, when a wolf wolfs out for someone it usually means they’re soulmates. We have a couple of wolves in our family, so that is why we know if you are wondering,” Gomez spoke with a soft smile. Enid blinked and smiled then.

“Maybe, I don’t know if that is fully true though,” she spoke. The Addams accepted that, but Morticia knew how she felt. She had seen visions of Wednesday and Enid being together after all. The three made small talk, and Wednesday soon walked out as her room was mostly done. 

“Thank you, Mother and Father,” she spoke, looking at them. She looked genuine and appreciative. Enid smiled at that. 

She left the family be, finishing her own room as she hung her clothes up. She hid something in her closet, not wanting Wednesday’s family to see it. She saw them soon leaving, saying bye to her as she said bye to them as well. “Your parents are nice Willa,” she spoke with a smile when it was just the 2 of them. “Willa?” she responded. “Thank you, they… are,” she reluctantly admitted, answering about her parent. “They are still vomit-inducing with their physical affection,” she added, but she had a soft smile on her face. She was looking at Enid too, which made her see the happiness in her eyes. There was also some softness, which was rare.

“I thought I would give you a nickname. Do you like it? And better than mine at least. How was your winter break?” she asked, sitting on Wednesday’s freshly-made bed, Wednesday joining her as well. “I.. only say it in private, ok?” she asked. Enid nodded to agree. “And you can come over to mine for the holidays you know?” she asked. Enid also nodded at that, blushing that she had the pleasure of doing that. “Winter break was ok though, I suffered from phantom pains however so if I seem weird sometimes… I apologise,” she spoke. “But how was yours?” she added, realising she didn’t 

“It’s ok. If it helps, I have nightmares over the night. But my winter break was good. My mother tried to get me with some alphas,” she admitted. Wednesday physically growled at that, which shocked the wolf because it was so close to a wolf’s growl. “How’d you learn to growl like that?” Enid couldn't help but ask. Wednesday smirked.

“I would like to kill your mother if I have consent. But I learnt to growl from my werewolf cousin, I made sure it was perfected before he left,” she responded. Enid nodded and smiled.

“Wait here, by the way, I have something for you,” she spoke and skipped over to her cupboard, grabbing the wrapped-up presents. Grabbing it, she skipped back and handed it over to the goth. Wednesday blinked but opened it. There were 2 presents. One was a box, and the other was clearly clothing of some sort. Intrigued by the box, she opened it and that was when she saw what it was. She couldn’t help her shock. It was a taxidermied squirrel. “I went and hunted in my wolf form over Winter and I found this squirrel. I thought of you as I killed it. I made sure it was in one piece then I took it to a local taxidermist. I hope it looks ok,” she spoke with a soft smile. Wednesday nodded.

“It’s extraordinary, it is neatly done and well-preserved. Thank you, Enid,” she spoke with a smile, her lips curved upwards. “Open your other present dummy,” Enid teased with a smile. Wednesday glared but she was still smiling as she grabbed the other one and opened it. Inside was a knitted sweater, black and white. There was one little colour patch of pink. “I hope the pink is ok, I just wanted a little piece to remind you of me,” she admitted.  Wednesday smiled.

“I love it, thank you, Enid. You are the best, I will wear it with great pride,” she spoke, putting it on already. Enid was pleased.

That was when Wednesday crouched under her own bed and got out 4 parcels and handed them over. “I got a few things for you too. Admittedly I didn’t expect anything from you,” she admitted.

“Of course, I would get you something. You’re my best friends,” she spoke with a smile. Wednesday nodded then watched Enid open the first one. It was in a box and she didn’t know what it was. That was when she opened it and saw it was 6 books and they were all of Holly Jackson’s. She had talked about getting the A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder series but she never had enough money. There was that set, but there was also The Reapparance Of Rachel Price, Five Survive and Killjoy. All of the Holly Jackson books were there. “OMG, thank you, Willa! I love this,” she spoke and hugged her. Wednesday hugged back and smiled before Enid opened the other parcels. Inside one was a pink leather jacket. It was from Gucci which surprised Enid.

“I hope it is the right size. If not, I can get it,” she spoke. “You didn’t have to get me a branded item,” Enid spoke. 

“I know. I wanted to,” Wednesday answered. Enid smiled, setting it to the side carefully. That was when she opened the next one, a bat plushie. The next parcel was handmade by Wednesday clearly though. It was another plushie, but it was knitted. She loved it and it was also Enid’s wolf colour too. Wednesday was looking down, hoping Enid loved it. That was when she was tackled into a hug.

She was shocked, holding Enid back as tight as the wolf was. “Thank you, I love it,” she spoke, nuzzling into Wednesday slightly. “I am glad. I had my grandmama and mother’s help, it helped with my phantom pain too,” she admitted. Enid smiled.

“You are the best,” Enid admitted. Wednesday smiled, facing Wednesday who was just inches away from her then. She leaned forward slightly, their foreheads together. Enid was shocked, feeling butterflies in her stomach. She thought Wednesday would have the same too, but she would say spiders. That was when she realised Morticia may have been correct. Enid leaned in more, Wednesday soon kissing her. The both of them kissed gently, Enid smiling as she was blushing, soon holding her. 

“I think I love you,” Enid spoke. Wednesday raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“I think you do too. I mean, you did kiss me,” Wednesday teased. Enid smiled, kissing her gently again. “So… are we official?” she asked. 

“Of course we are, can you keep it secret for now though?” Wednesday asked, looking down. Enid nodded and smiled. 

“Of course. So… wanna go on a date tonight?” she asked with a smile. Wednesday nodded.

“There is a movie we could watch then dinner?” Wednesday offered.

“Perfect,” Enid spoke. She was happy. Maybe she would collect all her stuff from home and move in with the Addams if she could…

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Gmmtv 2025

So now, that I have time, I'm actually gonna sit and watch the trailers properly. Let's go.

Dare You to Death - The plot is appealing to me, the cast is interesting. I was never a JD fan so if I decide to watch it will be for all the ensemble and the actual plot.

Head 2 Head - My babies! Forced cohabitation my beloved. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see the vision thingy cause other than that this just seems like a cute bl, and I'm here for that.

Burnout Syndrome - OffGun in a love triangle? Gun being fought over by two men just has god intended? I am so seated for this!

Whale Store xoxo - MilkLove is back and I wanna like this one. It seems cute, and drama light. I'll probably be tuning in.

Only Friends - Dream On - The chill that came down my spine when the song started playing. I left my body. With that said, and like I said before, EarthMix is here, so who am I kidding? I will watch. Kinda surprised to see JossFluke already paired in another bl, before the first one has even started airing. OhmLeng was predictable as a recurring pair and I'm always here for Ohm. Leng has a lot to prove being surrounded by all these names.

That Summer - MOND! Mond kissing boys! That's it.

My Romance Scammer - Not in a million years did I think we would get this OhmFluke combo. Dimples is back kissing boys and Ohm is just back. And MarkJunior seem to be here to stay. Also, I love that since we got gay marriage we should immediately tackle gay divorce. Sounds good.

Melody of Secrets - I'm glad they're back playing adults although the dynamic seems to be the same. I wish they changed it up and let Book be the pursuer. I like the horror elements and we don't get enough of those but I don't know about this one.

Love You Teacher - The first half of this trailer had me. I love Perth and he's playing a grown up so I was sold. And then it happened. And I don't know how I feel about any of it.

MU-TE-LUV - I guess we're getting this and not OurSkyy3. Will watch the queers and the rest we'll see.

Cat for Cash - This is just rude. Do they know that cats are my ultimate weakness? I can't watch all these shows, but a show with talking cats? multiple of them?? C'mon. I'm not even gonna pretend to be torn about this one. I will be watching.

Girl Rules - So, Only Friends but make it sapphic. I'm sad to say, I'll probably pass on this one.

Boys In Love - PAPANG!!! The rumours were true and he's paired with Pod in this. All I saw in this trailer was that and the dimples. Who is that kid? Cause he's adorable. This is the obligatory high-school bl, it looks soft and fluffy. Might check it out.

My Magic Prophecy - I will be skipping this one.

A Dog and a Plane - What a mess of a trailer. But do I care? Not even a little. It's TayNew so I'll be watching with bells on.

Me and Thee - This show will be the true test of how shallow I can get. Will I start a show because Est was wearing glasses in the trailer? Only future me will know. Look, PondPhuwin can play, we know this, but I don't know if I want another show with them so soon. At least they're playing different roles, so there's that.

Wu - Who was saying this wasn't bl? Did you not see the golden thread? And the fate talk? And the looks? And well, everything? It's a bl. I don't know about this one mostly because I don't know the actors. Although tumblr is doing its job well and I'm this close to binging the frenemies show so maybe I'll reevaluate.

Memoir of Rati - I am so easy, it's embarrassing honestly. They so pretty, the scenery is so pretty, historical bl. Sold!

Ticket To Heaven - So many flashbacks to catholic school. It looks good, which doesn't surprise considering it's Aof. I'm glad GeminiFourth are back playing more serious roles. I am really intrigued by this one but also don't trust it completely for some reason. I don't know yet.

Yeah, I'm a sucker. I will be watching most of the first episodes of this line up in like a year when they actually get made. Probably not gonna stick with a lot of them but we'll see. As it's becoming obvious, I'm easy.

Also just a fun fact I guess, and as @lurkingshan as said here, with these shows, 4 couples will hit 5 series as a pair. OffGun, FirstKhao, ForceBook and EarthMix, even though that last one I'm counting Ossan's Love which is also not released yet.

And another thing, of the Gmmtv 2024 QL shows, 7 have yet to premiere. Thame Po, will premiere December 13 but the other six don't have dates yet. They are : My Golden Blood, Ossan's Love, The Ex-Morning, Us, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist and Revamp. So yeah, we're not gonna see any of these new shows anytime soon. Although I'm putting my money on the OffGun series being one of the first to premiere in this line up.

All the trailers and posters for gmmtv2025 can be found here.

[ramblingautisticman]

A Gift In The Making

Chapter 1 - Decorating In November

Summary : Logan has a problem. What the fuck does he get Wade for Christmas?

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3.)

(Okay, so I'm pretty excited about this little fic! Hopefully everyone enjoys it! Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I know the last one will be out on Christmas Day! Anyway, enjoy, and link to the A03 version in is in the title!)

--------------------------------------------------------

Logan had left Wade in bed at roughly 9am, getting up to let Mary Puppins out to pee and by the time he got back, Logan was met with Wade decorating the apartment for Christmas. In November.

They had moved in a week ago- had all their belongings still in boxes- but apparently he had found the Christmas stuff.

Music was playing softly in the background as Wade stood in the corner of the living room, hanging ornaments on a tall pine tree (that he really hoped was plastic), humming along to the whatever festive song was playing.

"You uh...you know it's not even December yet, right princess?" He asked as he stepped inside and closed the door, placing Mary down on the floor, watching as she ran over to Wade's feet.

"Peanut! Your back! And yes, I know it isn’t December yet, but who doesn't love the festive spirit? Plus, this is your first Christmas here, and our first Christmas together, so I wanted to get a head start on it! Also, I may have seen a tiktok where someone put their decorations up and I instantly needed to put our tree up." Wade rambled, kneeling down to pet Mary's head, then standing back up and walking over to Logan with a huge smile on his face.

And okay, initially he was thinking of telling Wade to take it down for atleast a few more weeks, but he looks so happy that he couldn't bring himself to do so. "Well- it looks good. I like the tinsel." He comment, kissing Wade briefly on the lips before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a soda from the fridge.

He had been sober for a good 4 months now, and Logan wasn't planning on breaking that anytime soon. Wade made it easier, helped when he had a rough day, and they kept alot of soda in the fridge so he could have something in a can. It helped, having something familiar.

"You know, you've never mentioned anything about celebrating holidays. You better celebrate Christmas- if you don't because of religious reasons or whatever, fine- but I'm keeping my decorations up. It took me years to collect all of them!" Wade's voice brought him away from his thoughts, opening the can with a small chuckle, looking up at the other.

"I'm not religious. I don't think I could be living with you- I'd be going to hell if I was." He joked, sipping on his soda before leaning against the counter behind him. "Anyway, I do like Christmas. Just- haven't celebrated in awhile. That's all. Never really had anyone to celebrate with after....everything." Logan added on quietly, looking away.

It was still hard to talk about- his X-Men and what happened to them- but he was getting better. He didn't have a panic attack when people mentioned them now, and he could bring them up himself without feeling sick, which he thought was progress.

Christmas had always been a big deal in the mansion. Mostly for the kids- the ones who didn't have anywhere else to go. The team always made sure that they got to have a christmas like any other kid- getting them each a few presents that they wanted- and showed them that they always had a family here. No matter what.

Logan had never thought about celebrating Christmas after they died, or any other event for that matter. Birthdays, Halloween, Christmas- they had all been such happy funfilled events with the whole school that they left a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he thought of them.

But here he was, a new family and a new home, people to celebrate with. It had been strange, having people to do that with.

They celebrated everything together. Birthdays, Halloween, and anything else that gave them a reason to all gather at Wade's place and eat pizza. Why wouldn't Christmas be the same?

"Well....we don't have to celebrate. If you don't want too- I don't mind. I can deal with it like the big boy I am- but I do expect you to watch some 90 Day Fiance with me as thanks to my understanding." Wade teased, hoping to lighten the mood as he moved to stand infront of Logan, gently wrapping his arms around the others neck.

Logan smiled alittle, looking back towards Wade's eyes, and placing his free hand on his waist. "No- we can celebrate. Just haven't in awhile, that's all. Makes me remeber celebrating with the team...but, I will be very happy to spend Christmas with you and your friends." He said softly, kissing Wade with a smile, slowly pulling away after a second. "Plus, you seem very excited.....and I really don't want to watch that crap again." Logan added, a smirk on his face.

"They are OUR friends Peanut. And yeah- it's always been my favourite holiday. Ever since I was a kid. It was the one day I got a break from my asshole dad, because my family would come over and he couldn't yell at me with guests there. Anyway- away from the angsty headcannons the author clearly wants to insert- do you wanna help me put the rest of the lights on the tree?" Wade asked with a kiss to Logan's cheek, moving away and towards the living room again. "Also, that show is hilarious and you should love it!"

For the rest of November, they would cuddle on the couch under the Christmas tree lights, watching reruns of Golden Girls on the TV that was surrounded by small decorations.

And as Christmas got closer and closer (and by closer and closer, Logan means 3 weeks away), Wade got to planning the big day itself, running everything past Logan as he did.

"So, Laura said she wants to come over Christmas Eve and stay the night- which I'm all for! I'm thinking we can watch movies and eat cookies and it'll be awesome!" "Do you think Al would like a new TV for Christmas?" "We need to get Mary Puppins an ugly Christmas sweater Peanut!"

It seemed never ending, but Logan could see how much this all meant to Wade, so Logan agreed with whatever his partner wanted. He didn't mind what they did, as long as their family were over. Plus, he was alittle distracted with something himself.

He didn't know what to get Wade. At all.

Logan had already gotten everyone else presents (Wade had dragged him to the mall the second week of November), with most of them being from Wade and Logan as joint gifts, but Wade was different. Wade needed something special.

This was their first Christmas together and Wade had done so much for him over this past 10 months, letting him move in with him and teaching him to love again- so Logan wanted (needed) to find a gift that showed how much he cared for him. How much he appreciated everything Wade had done.

And you'd think, well Wade likes so many things, shouldn't that be easy? And the answer would be no. No it wasn't.

Half of the things Wade liked were either kids shows, or weapons, and Logan really wasn't sure how he could get a meaningful gift that involved both bluey and a pistol.

Thankfully, after another week if thinking, he got an idea.

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca...pssst...pssssst....i just read the new tattoo artist!billy fic aaaand:

Dylan's first heartbreak 👀👀👀👀

I never get tired of your asks my sweet, sweet friend but i definitely will never ever get tired of your asks for this wonderful little family. I hope you enjoy what I did here. Thank you again! ♥️

Heartbreaker

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader Wife, and their son, Dylan William

Warnings: Fluff, getting dumped, couple of swear words I think?

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: Dylan experiences his first broken heart and needs a little help getting through it. His parents are there to help him.

A/N: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“I didn’t know what to say to him, sweet girl. I never dated any woman long enough to have them break my heart. I always broke theirs.” Billy said with concern in his voice for his son and raised eyebrows.

“Oh I know you’re a heartbreaker from way back, Casanova.” You said and your voice dripping with sass.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and tried to stop himself from smiling but he couldn’t. He always loved when you were a little bit spicy with him which is why he referred to you as his “little firecracker.”

But this wasn’t about Billy’s past or yours, for that matter. It was about trying to get your son to talk to you.

**********

When Billy was just your tattoo artist, you were well aware of his reputation with the ladies although Frank would let little things slip here and there about how much Billy loved tattooing you or that he cleared his schedule to make room for an appointment for you.

But you had to be protective of your heart. Billy had quite the womanizing reputation and the last thing you needed was to get hurt again like all the other past relationships in your life that had gone wrong. But he was hard to stay away from and it was difficult to not have a crush on him.

In the end, you had never been so happy to finally learn that he had deeper feelings for you other than friendship because you were now married to the man of your dreams, had two great kids, and Billy still only had eyes for you.

But right now you had a bit of a problem. Well, maybe not really a problem but a little situation that you weren’t expecting so soon from Dylan. He just had his heart broken for the first time.

One of Billy’s latest talks with his son was to tell Dylan to ease up on the playboy attitude that he clearly got from his father and even at 16, he knew full well how handsome he was. You didn’t want Dylan having the reputation in school as the class heartbreaker and he actually listened and took his father’s advice but he wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a broken heart.

You remember when he came home to tell you he asked out the prettiest girl in his class, Lila, and he was really excited to take her out on a date. She was the first girl that Dylan had actually told you and Billy about, you knew there had been others but this one was different.

He seemed to really like her and after a few weeks of dating, Dylan started referring to Lila as his “girlfriend.” She had been over for dinner, was very polite, and even met and hung out with Anna Raven on a weekend she was home from college.

They were inseparable, always texting, and spending all of their spare time together. You had never seen Dylan smile so much but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

About four months after Dylan started dating Lila, you came home from work and started to cook dinner as usual. You just assumed Dylan was upstairs doing his homework or playing video games so when dinner was ready, you called him down to come eat.

Dylan replied in somewhat of an angry tone, “I’m not hungry, mom!”

Your son was always hungry, the kid had snacks upon snacks before dinner was even ready most nights and would still clean his plate.

With a narrowed expression, Billy said, “That’s strange…kid is always hungry. He eats like he has hollow legs.”

“Go check on him, baby…please?” You asked, nervously.

Billy went upstairs, was up there for a few minutes, then came back down, only to tell you that Dylan said he wasn’t hungry, he was just tired, and he had a long day between school, homework and practicing his guitar.

“It’s just not like him, Billy.” You said.

Billy shrugged.

“I can’t force it out of him, sweet girl. You know it’s not easy for Dylan to talk about things.” He said.

“Yeah, I wonder where he gets that from.” You said, sarcastically.

Your husband playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“I know, I know but let’s just let it go for now and if it keeps up, we’ll try and talk to him about whatever is bothering him, ok?” Said Billy.

“Are you trying to brush this off because you’re hungry and you wanna eat dinner?” You asked with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Damn, you really do know me better than anyone, don’t you, beautiful.” Billy said with a wide smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise and Dylan’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright for tonight.”

Billy touched his forehead to yours then gave you a gentle kiss, the scent of green soap was potent on his clothes and you could feel the heat coming off of his body, through his shirt.

He always knew how to ease your tension. When his lips touched yours, you felt your shoulders relax and your stress melt away.

You just hoped your son was alright.

**********

The next two nights were the same as the previous one. Dylan told you he wasn’t hungry, Billy tried to talk to him but didn’t want to tell his father what was bothering him until the third night of skipping dinner. That was when he told Billy that Lila broke up with him.

Billy didn’t know how to respond.

“Ah buddy, I’m…sorry.” Said Billy.

Dylan raised his voice.

“I did what you and mom said I should do! I found a girl that I really liked, told her how I felt and she dumped me for it, Dad!” He yelled. “I shouldn’t have let her get to me. You’re lucky. You never let anyone get close to you except Mom and you turned out fine!”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did, Dylan. It took me six years to even admit that I had feelings for your mother! And it was all on the account of me being a stubborn asshole.” Billy said, tensely.

Dylan continued, “Well, it’s not gonna happen to me again. Can you please just leave me alone, Dad? I wanna be alone.”

Billy did as his son asked, left his room and came back downstairs where you were anxiously waiting for him to tell you what happened.

**********

“Casanova, huh? Very funny, sweet girl.” Billy stated.

“I just want him to be ok, Billy.” You said with a slight smile.

“I tried to tell him, baby. I tried to tell him that I didn’t want him making the same mistakes I did with a womanizing attitude but he didn’t wanna listen to me. He is right though; I don’t know what it’s like to have my heart broken.” Said Billy.

You pondered for a brief minute before responding.

“Well, maybe not in that particular sense but you do know what unrequited love feels like.” You said, softly.

Billy knew you were talking about his mother.

“That’s different, sweet girl.” He said through clenched teeth.

No matter how many times it scars over, that wound left by his mother will never ever be fully healed but you would always be there to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding when he needed you to.

“You told me all about having your heart broken a few times, baby. I remember you talking about your first boyfriend and how badly you took that one. Maybe you could share that story with Dylan. It could help him feel better.” Said Billy.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” You said, fixating your eyes to the top of the stairs.

Billy kissed your forehead, flashed his million-dollar smile at you, and wished you good luck.

You were going to need it.

**********

Three light knocks rapped against Dylan’s bedroom door.

“Dylan honey? Can I come in?” You asked, softly.

From behind the door, he sadly replied, “Whatever.”

“Dylan, I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” You said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Mumbling into his pillow, he replied, “Dad never broke your heart, Mom.”

“You’re right but if he even thinks about it, he’s a dead man.” You replied, hoping to get a chuckle.

His shoulders moved slightly up and down. You could tell that made him laugh.

You tried to tell him how sorry you are but he wasn’t responding so you decided to tell him about how your first boyfriend dumped you. It was senior year of high school, you were 17 years old, and you had never been in a relationship before. A cute blond haired, blue eyed boy from your class kept showing up at your soccer practices as well as your games. He was also your physics lab partner.

He seemed to really like you so you started seeing each other. The two of you went to the movies, went to shoot pool, grabbed dinner, and he even picked you up for school every morning.

Things were going really well until you told him how you were feeling and said those three little words, to which he replied with absolutely nothing.

“He called me the next day to break up with me over the phone, probably so he wouldn’t have to look at me, see the tears in my eyes, or watch my bottom lip tremble as he broke my heart into a thousand pieces.” You said in barely more than a whisper.

Dylan sat up on his bed, his shoulders were hunched and his eyes were glued to the floor as he replied, “I asked Lila if she wanted to go to junior prom with me. She said that prom wasn’t for another few months and that she wasn’t sure she liked me enough to go to the prom with me.”

Even though he was 16, the thought of some girl breaking Dylan’s heart made your blood boil.

“Why that little bit—“ You had started to say before Billy burst through the door.

“AH, AH, sweet girl!” He yelled, shaking his head. “Not helpful, baby.”

You knew he was right so you composed yourself and said, “Dylan, it will get easier. If you’re meant to be, she’ll come back and if not, it just means there’s someone else out there especially for you. I was meant to be with your Dad and I just had to get through a few broken hearts first, that’s all. Going through this kind of stuff makes you stronger and sometimes life isn’t all a bunch of fluffy bunnies and unicorns. The strong always survive, just ask your Dad.”

You glanced at Billy as a wide smile stretched across your lips.

Even as a little boy, Dylan had always wanted to be just like his father, he looked up to Billy, and for not having one or a role model of what a father should be, Billy was a really great dad.

“You’re gonna be alright, buddy. Your mother is tough too, she didn’t tell you the part of the story where the next time she saw the kid who dumped her, she walked right over to him and kicked him square in the balls.” Billy said with a devilish smirk.

“Hey now! I still maintain that he kicked himself in the beans.” You said, biting back your laughter.

Dylan started to laugh as he replied, “Well Mom, now I know where Anna gets her feistiness from. She kicked that first boyfriend, Jake, in the nuts too.”

Billy said, “My two firecrackers…regular and mini.”

Dylan looked at the two of you and with a slight smile on his face, said, “Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

Time will tell if Dylan will go back to his heartbreaking ways although you hoped he wouldn’t. Setbacks are bound to happen especially after experiencing his first broken heart and it would take some time before he could give his heart away again.

You didn’t want him to completely shut himself down like Billy had done numerous times with you and sometimes still does but you didn’t want him to be completely naïve to all the Lila’s of the world either.

No matter how old he gets, Dylan will always be your baby boy and you’ll always want to protect him, Anna Raven also. But both of your children were learning to navigate their own lives with, of course, some stumbling and falling along the way but they were problem solvers, determined, tough around the edges but had kind hearts.

And you knew that whatever happened, they would pick themselves up and persevere because Russo’s never quit, they never give up, and they will always fight for what they want.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

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If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[missmoonfrost]

Potions with the Slytherins - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic - November 26: Potions Dungeon - Words: 844 - Warnings: Violence

Sirius is already tense. School is a lot of work, however much he likes to pretend he doesn’t care. His feelings are… confusing. The letters from home have kept coming lately, each one nastier than the last.

His friends are brilliant, but having Potions with the Slytherins doesn’t help.

Sirius is determined not to let them agitate him. He keeps his head down and focuses on stirring his potion. Despite his best efforts, Severus, the leach, seems to sense that is extra irritable today. And despite trying to stay calm, he loses focus and messes up the amount of peppermint leaves which leaves his potion a dull yellow instead of bright green.

Severus laughs exaggeratedly and has his fellow Slytherins join in. “I knew you weren’t cleaver enough to be sorted into the superior house, Black. But I didn’t know you were dumber than a squib. Don’t even know how to count, apparently.”

James reaches an arm out in front of Sirius and mumbles “Easy mate.”

But he turns the wrong way. It’s not Sirius who lashes out. It’s Remus. Quiet cautious Remus. Who leaps up, kicks Snape’s cauldron over so the green gooey potion splashes all over the floor, and sticks his wand out.

”Take that back!”

For a moment, Severus seems as stunned as Sirius feels. But he quickly snaps out of it, looks furiously at the spilt potion and shoots a hex Sirius doesn’t recognize Remus’ way. Remus doesn’t react fast enough to shield himself but throws his arm up to protect his face and tumbles backwards with a yelp.

Before Sirius can think he disarms Severus and, in the process, has him flying right into the ingredient cabinet behind him where jars and pots rain down around him.

“Boys! Boys!” Slughorn clears the mess with a few whips of his wand and looks sternly at Sirius and Remus.

“Detention, both of you. And ten points each from Gryffindor.”

“But, Professor –“ they both complain.

“I don’t want to hear any of it. You are dismissed from this class. Zero points on today’s potions.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?” Professor Slughorn sniffs Sirius’ potion ” This is useless anyway”, and then he turns to Remus, “and you sabotaged Mr Snape’s, he can take over yours and continue if he wants to.”

“Come”, Remus mumbles and pulls discreetly at Sirius' robe. Sirius follows him out, careful to keep his gaze in the other direction than the Slytherins he knows will be watching gleefully.

They reach the first flight of stairs before Sirius realises there is something wrong with Remus. He still clutches his arm tight against his body.

“Let me see” Sirius demands.

He gasps when Remus does what he asks. A deep gush runs along the forearm. Blood starts dripping as soon as Remus loosens his grip.

Sirius doesn’t want to think about what would have happened if that hex had hit him straight on.

“Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing,” he ushers.

Remus silently obliges. It doesn’t take long for Madam Pomfrey to fix him up. She is a splendid medi-witch, with her muttering about stupid violent boys, and all. But Sirius is still distraught when she leaves them, Remus sitting on the bed, Sirius crouching beside him with his arm on top of the bedding.

Remus looks at him and smiles a tentative smile. Sirius feels the sting of tears behind his eyes. Remus tries to reach out and touch him, but he elegantly ducks away.

”I am so sorry. I know it hurts.” Remus says.

”Hurts?” What does he mean? If anyone is hurting it is Remus.

”It must suck to hear things like that.”

”Hear things…? Moony? You are hurt! Because of me. That’s what upsets me.”

Sirius runs his hands down his face and swallows before he continues.

”I watch you get hurt every full moon, and it’s already more than I can take. I can’t watch you get yourself hurt over me. It’s not supposed to be like that. I am supposed to protect you.”

Remus smiles. ”I want to protect you too.”

”No! You don’t get it! I think I.. I think I love you, Moony. For real.”

Remus puts a hand on each of his shoulders and ducks his head low, trying to meet Sirius' downturned eyes. ”I think I love you too.”

Sirius sighs. “You don’t get it…”

”I think I do.” Remus leans forward and forces Sirius to meet his eyes. His hand lingers for a moment at Sirius’ jaw, thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. Then he slowly brushes his lips against his, soft and tentative.

Sirius winds his arms around Remus, pulling him closer, and the tentative kiss deepens. The heat of it, the overwhelming rightness of it, consumes him until he feels Remus’ laughter vibrate against his mouth as they topple backwards onto the bed. Sirius braces himself above him, grinning like a fool.

Madam Pomfrey sharply clears her throat. “You may leave now.” Sirius can hear the smile in her voice from across the room.

[michelle-is-writing]

Stunt Driving, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8k~

3rd person, Spencer x fem!reader

Other than Derek Morgan, Spencer didn't know anyone that could drive so recklessly, yet, still be safe at the same time. That was until Agent (Y/n) (L/n) was hired at the BAU. She was intelligent, but she couldn't compare to that of Spencer's list of achievements. (Y/n) didn't graduate high school at age twelve, nor did she have several masters degrees or Ph.D.'s under her belt. Instead, she slightly leisured and worked hard at the same time. She gained her degrees with good grades while making memories with those around her. One person she grew close to was her father.

Being an auto mechanic who worked at home, (Y/n)'s father got to work on a lot of cars, especially those from the seventies and eighties. Once the cars were fixed, (Y/n)'s dad always took it for a drive with her in the passenger seat, and even though it probably wasn't the best idea, he would teach her how to drive fast - whether it be to have fun (again, probably not the best idea) or get out of a dangerous situation. The things learned by (Y/n) would last her a lifetime and would prove to be necessary in this current moment.

Driving one of the FBI's SUV at ninety miles per hour wasn't something that Spencer imagined himself experiencing today, and as he looked at the beautiful woman in the driver's seat beside him, he didn't exactly know what to think. She seemed so focused on what she was doing, and because of the mileage they were reaching, Spencer was thankful for this. However, there was still that screaming statistic in the back of his mind, shouting, "40% of all accidents are caused by speeding over 75 miles per hour!"

"(Y/n), slow down!" Spencer yelled as she swerved in and out of traffic, the unsub's car merely twenty feet away from their vehicle. Gripping the safety handle above him as hard as he could, Spencer felt like he could have a heart attack any moment now. She was unsafe in her driving because of the speed she was traveling at, yet, she was somehow keeping them safe by her constant reflexes and quick reaction times. "You're going to get us killed!"

"Spencer," (Y/n) said his name, swiftly checking her mirrors before speeding into the next lane, the engine screaming as she did so. Looking over into the driver side window, Spencer could see the unsub constantly checking over his shoulder, his panic only growing once he sees the BAU's vehicle next to his. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Spencer asked his coworker, her gorgeous (e/c) eyes flashing over to his for a quick second. Despite being in such a tense situation, Spencer couldn't help but be lured in by her eyes as his heart had grown for the woman as soon as she started working in the BAU. Fortunately, (Y/n) felt the same, he just didn't know it.

"I need you to trust me," She repeats her words, gaining an almost groan from Spencer. He was trusting her enough by putting his life in her hands at the wheel, what else did she want?

"You know better than anyone how to calculate an unsub's next move," She reminds him, the unsub speeding up to get ahead of their SUV. "And you and I both know he's going to swerve in front of me at some point and slam on his breaks," she points out, frowning as she yanks the car into the same lane as the unsub. "I need you to tell me when you think that's going to happen."

Determination laced throughout her voice, (Y/n)'s eyes stayed glued on the banged-up car in front of her as the RPMs of their vehicle bounced between its high and low numbers. Not knowing what her full plan was, Spencer questioned himself as to why he quietly nodded at her words, but nonetheless, still turned his head to watch the car in front of them. As facts about the unsub came to mind, Spencer compiled everything into one of his long, drawn out equations before estimating when the murderer would do just as (Y/n) had said.

It was only when he saw the unsub sit closer to the wheel with a tighter grip on it that Spencer felt he was going to change his moves. "Now," Spencer told the woman, watching as she slowed their vehicle down only slightly, but still deliberately. Seconds after the SUV reached 80, the car in front of her slammed on the breaks, causing (Y/n) to smirk as she knew her plan was in full effect.

Quickly swerving into the line beside her, she wastes no time before lining her front wheels up to his back ones and slamming into him, effectively making him begin to slide uncontrollably on the road, the side of his vehicle pinned to the front of their SUV. Spencer watched in panic as the unsub tried to regain control of his car, only to swerve away and into a field. Sitting back against his chair with a sigh, Spencer shut his eyes as he felt the car begin to finally slow down. He'd never done a pit maneuver on anyone before, having only read about it before in books or hearing about it in news cases.

For a second, he let himself relax until he felt the SUV start reversing before swerving in a 180 degree motion, making his eyes shoot back open and see their vehicle now facing the same direction as the unsub. The wheels immediately regained traction against the asphalt before lunging into the dirt and across the grass covered field. The unsub had barely any time to react and drive away as the SUV made contact with the front end, pushing it farther into the field all the while further destroying the car and preventing it from driving anymore.

Now stopped, (Y/n) threw her seatbelt off and dashed out of her seat. Once again, Spencer found himself watching the scene unfold in front of him, his eyes glued to the way (Y/n) held her pistol all the while dragging the unsub out of the vehicle. Surprisingly, the man's arms eventually came up to hold his head, showing he was still alive despite being hit twice.

It's only then that Spencer snapped out of his haze, clambering out of the vehicle behind her as she tugged the injured man onto his stomach. Aside from the man's cries, the sound of sirens began to follow them much to Spencer's delight. They couldn't keep up with the unsub, losing him in traffic due to his speeds, but that wasn't a hard challenge for (Y/n).

Clearly.

It was merely thirty seconds later that the rest of the team joined them, followed by several ambulances and police vehicles that promptly looked over the murderer before taking him away to jail. This left both Spencer and (Y/n) to be checked over despite being alright throughout it all. It took hardly any time for Spencer to be declared fine, leaving him to make sure (Y/n) was okay.

Walking over to her ambulance, he saw an EMS worker finish wrapping up (Y/n)'s slightly bleeding wrist, his steps now a bit more panicked as he came closer to her. "I cut my hand on a piece of glass when handcuffing the guy," (Y/n) quickly explained to the worried man, smiling at him. "I'm okay, Spence, really."

Feeling his heart warm up in response to (Y/n) calling him the nickname she adopted for him, he saw himself sitting next to her and sighing. "Where did you...?" Spencer began, not knowing where to go with his question. Instead of waiting for him to continue, she smirked and finished for him.

"Where did I learn to do that?" She asked for clarification, receiving a nod in response. Still smiling, she happily answered him. "When I was younger, my dad fixed cars, but you already knew that," She explained, Spencer nodding along as she spoke.

"Well, he also liked stunts and he taught me a few things too," she shrugged, "The pit maneuver was nothing, but that j-turn was something else," She explained, the Spencer's ears perking up as she answered his next question without him even saying it.

Her smile slowly died down before she slid a hand over to his resting on the ambulance, albeit a bit cautiously. However, his unchanging expression showed her it was okay, and so, she left her hand on top of his.

"I am sorry if I scared you, Spencer," She apologized, "Not everyone's used to... well, my driving, but I can't help it," They both shared a small laugh at this, staring at each other for a few moments before she spoke up once more. "Still, I hope you don't see me as reckless or immature."

In response to her words, Spencer let out a small laugh before wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her close. Perhaps it was the chaotic experience they just faced, or maybe it was the longing stares and touches they sometimes exchanged, but Spencer didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from. In fact, the only thing that reassured him of his actions was (Y/n) reciprocating them and nuzzling into his side ever so slightly.

"You didn't scare me," Spencer lied, putting on a genuine smile due to the happiness he felt from the combination of (Y/n)'s touch and words. "To be honest, I thought it was kind of hot," The words left his lips as awkward as they could, followed by a dark blush taking over his porcelain cheeks.

Although, (Y/n) paid no mind to his embarrassment, and instead, she couldn't help but lean up and gently kiss Spencer's soft lips. They were slightly swollen from him biting them in the car out of anxiousness and fright, but (Y/n) didn't care. She was happy just to be kissing the man, and even more elated at the sensation of him kissing back.

A small amount of applause filled the area around them, causing the two to part and look around to see their teammates grinning and clapping their hands.

"I knew it!" JJ yelled, clapping her hands together with an excited smile. "This was going to happen sooner or later,"

Beside JJ was Emily, smiling as well while clapping her on the back. Spencer and (Y/n) then began to stutter to Emily that they wouldn't let this interfere with their work, but the dark-haired woman simply held up a hand in response. "It's okay, I know you two, and I know you'll still be the same excellent workers," The smile she wore grew into that of a smirk, anticipating her next reply. "Just a bit more cuddly... and cute."

Relieved, both (Y/n) and Spencer couldn't help but let out a small sigh simultaneously, causing them to look back at each other with sheepish smiles from being caught. Barely any words had been expressed between the two when it came to their new relationship, but one thing was definite: (Y/n)'s motor-loving heart had become entangled with Spencer's chess-loving one, and he was happy.