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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

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BTS fic recs: December 2023

HAPPY NEW YEARS!! 🥳 May every single one of you lovely people out there have the best and brightest year to come ✨

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | 💜 (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Good Neighbor @sugaurora [0.7K] // knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, winter!au // 🥰🥰🥰

📝 Namjoon’s solitary tendencies versus the cookies. Spoiler: The cookies win.

🗨️ God, this was so fucking sweet 🥹 like sugary sweet fluffy fantastic! I loved it 💖 the way Namjoon just observes oc, and then helping her in the end 👏🏾 even though this is short, it’s fucking brilliant. The writing is just 😘😘 like I wished there was so much more, but I’m also so pleased with just what is 😌

⭐A Word from our Sponsors 💯 @ugh-yoongi [17.5K] // knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers // 😂🥵🥰

📝 You’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

🗨️ Okay. This. Was. Exceptional ✨🥹 I am slightly speechless, so this review might be short or long or just a rambling of my dainty thoughts. Here goes: it was amazing, seriously one of the best fics I’ve ever read 😭 everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I can’t even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic ✨ the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I don’t know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! 😭 And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am 😂 it was definitely worth it to stay up late tonight to finish this masterpiece ✨ And them reading the fanfiction 💀 😂 priceless ✨👏🏾

Seokjin

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐Turn Back Time 💯 by @raplinesmoon [13.3K] // ksj x f.reader // time travel!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

🗨️ Seokjin’s childhood/school was just, ugh, I really felt heartache for thirteen year old Seokjin 🥹 So very common as a kid, to wish you’re older – and then it’s just not what he expected at all. I really loved it! There were a few times I was laughing so damn hard, times where I was shedding a few tears as well. Just, incredibly good; very well written, the story was captivating and motivating, just yeah, brilliant. (Sorry, I’m suddenly bad with words). I loved the ‘lessons’ he learned, and then having the luxury (I’m using that word because we don’t have that irl) of going back to his childhood (almost like starting over) and damn it was good 👏💯

Yoongi

⭐Sinful Lust [series; ongoing] 💯 by @oddinary4bts [wordcount loading…] // myg x jjk x f.reader // established relationship, bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi, slice of life // 🥵🌩️

📝In an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating…

🗨️ Holy 😱 😱 😱 this is just completely unadulterated sin 🥵🫣 I can not describe how much I love this fic! It has A LOT of angst and at times it’s just sad reading how each character falls apart 😭 it’s amazing! If you’re into stories that will have you question your own morals and who to root for, this is for you 💖

⭐In Between the Pages of You [series; ongoing] @unique-high [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader // s2l // 🥰😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi fell in love with you. A girl he had never even met before. Knew everything that you were made up of within 96 pages of a worn red journal with a nirvana sticker on front, with coffee and tea-stained pages that also smelled of lilacs and summer.

🗨️ I can already tell that this story will be amazing; it’s so sweet, cute and tender. The storyline/idea is really cute and fluffy, like who wouldn’t love that?? 😭 And as someone who wrote countless journals as a teen, this one just hits differently. It’s so cute and the concept is gold 💜 I really, really look forward to reading the next chapters and what Yoongi will uncover of OC through her journal. And if he can return it to her sometime and they meet! 🥹

⭐F*ck Christmas 💯 @sailoryooons [23.4K] // myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜

Hoseok

⭐Ho Ho Horrible 💯 @ugh-yoongi [5.6K] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

🗨️ No– this was just so freaking cute! 😭 Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much 💜 OC’s friendship with Tae, their banter was 💯 and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OC’s internal dialogue is just funny 😂A really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I can’t recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times – please go read it 🥹💜

⭐Started with a Sparkle, now we’re on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.

🗨️ Really really good! I really liked it 💜 I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.

Jimin

⭐Couchsurfer 💯 @heartbeatan [6K] // pjm x f.reader // s2l // 🥵🥰

📝 This was left intentionally blank 🫥

🗨️ Omg this was so fucking good! 💯 First, really well written and the pacing was lovely, even though it’s short and one night they spend together 🥹 the build up of their tension and their chemistry was off the charts! So impeccably done! Fuck. I loved it ✨ it’s insane how good this story is and Jimin is just so sweet, romantic and nasty 🥵 I can’t tell you how turned on I got by the description of how Jimin handled OC, like damn 🥵 this is so fucking good, please don’t sleep on the this beauty 💖 Normally, I’m not one for one night stands, because I catch feelings for the characters, but this has a lovely ending that I loved - so fucking good!

Lol. Can not stop screaming about this one. Please go read it, fuck. PLEASE 😌 ✨

⭐Paper Hearts @namfinessed [9K] // pjm x f.reader // f2l, college!au // 🥰

📝 hearts fragile like paper, tear it or don’t?

🗨️ I think it is both cute and heartwarming, with their foolishness and stubbornness towards each other. I loved how the fic becomes full circle with the description of love by both Jimin and reader and then again at the end - really, really beautiful! 😍 I really loved this, it was well written, their friendship and love really shined through too! If you haven’t read this one yet, you really should 💜

Taehyung

⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd [14K] // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵

📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨

⭐Loverboy 💯 by @kookslastbutton [7.1K] // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨

⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung [wordcount loading…] // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵

📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..

🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.

⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook [15K] // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹

⭐Somebody Else 💯 by @jamaisjoons [4.2K] // kth x f.reader ft. yoongi // established relationship + post break up!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Yoongi doesn’t want you anymore. but he can’t stand watching you with someone else.

🗨️ Holy s– 🥵 I don’t even know where to begin with this one! It’s really good and the that is mainly from Yoongi’s pov makes it truly special – he is observing them and damn is it hot 🥵 Aish, really good 💯

Jungkook

Nothing this month 😞 — I AM SO SORRY that I haven’t read any with JK this month (though he is featuring in some with the other members). My JK ‘to read’ list is the LONGEST imao 😂 I’ll hopefully do better next month – but you can always check my Jungkook Library 💜

I have spend most of December being on holiday/time off, which gave me a lot of time to write my own stuff, which in the end gave me less time to read 😣 But it’s all good! I loved getting some stories and thoughts out of my head and now there’s space to read and obsess over other’s stories again 😀

Borahae 💜

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semisolidmind · 5 months

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i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-

what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.

Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?

love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate

ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.

not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.

you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.

they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...

...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?

the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.

they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.

wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.

she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.

besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.

she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.

---

reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.

macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.

he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.

'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.

while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).

macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.

macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.

reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.

---

macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.

with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.

the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.

of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.

but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.

he just feels so...peaceful, with her.

the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.

and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.

---

sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.

during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.

he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.

macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.

macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.

the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.

this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.

and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.

…she let the monkey king in.

she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.

but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.

now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.

but she tries anyways.

“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”

macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.

“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.

“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."

reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...

she doesn’t have a choice.

reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.

with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.

he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.

---

reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.

reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.

she finds nothing.

"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.

reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—

"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.

"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"

reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.

she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.

"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."

---

wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).

reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.

she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #immortal peach au #i guess??? cause shes an immortal???#this got waaay longer than expected #got tired and couldnt figure out how to end it #dialogue is hard

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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months

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take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 1

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, lots of stereotypical fall activities, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~6.5k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. this is part 1, the full fic is in 3 parts and the dates for the next 2 parts are at the bottom. also thank you to my bby indi for beta reading @wongyuseokie and creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the next 2 parts, send an ask or dm or just comment 💕

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Fall has never been Chan’s favorite season. The weather cools down, but it’s in this weird in-between. One day, it’s cold enough for heavy jackets, and the next it’s almost warm enough to wear shorts. It starts to get dark too early as the days get shorter, which makes it feel like there’s just less time in the day. Or, even worse, there are days when Chan leaves the apartment in the dark and returns in the dark. Everything feels like it’s dying with the leaves falling. It seems like it should be a season of thankfulness and friends and holidays, but it just ends up feeling like an ending in a bad way. He’s not cynical, he’s just not really sure he likes this time of year.

“I wish I had someone to do fall things with me,” you announce to nobody in particular.

Okay, well maybe Chan needs to rethink this whole opinion on the season. Because here’s the other thing, he’s always been drawn to you. Sure, you’re his friend. It’s just, he’s always been closer to your brother, Jay. Always a little envious, too. You and Jay are friends as much as siblings, despite you being two years older. So much so that your friend group is somewhat merged. Chan knows that Jay has friends you don’t hang around with and that the same goes for you. It’s still nice, though. Seeing the two of you, he understands what it means to love family and also like them.

Yet in all those years of friendship, Chan can still remember the moment when he started seeing you differently. You’d called Jay late one night, no text or anything, and Jay picked up right away because it was so unlike you. It was your first real breakup, a guy you met and started dating in college, the only time you and Jay had been really separated. Even if the separation was only a two hour drive. You were so devastated that Jay switched to a video call and convinced you to come home for the weekend. All Chan can remember is how much he wanted to protect you from ever feeling that way again. He knew you didn’t deserve the way that guy made you feel. Then, the new school year came around, and he and Jay were on campus with you. The draw has only gotten stronger since then.

“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for?” Jay asks.

You roll your eyes affectionately. “He doesn’t really like the fall. Plus, he’s super busy with work projects. He doesn’t want to go pick apples or adventuring or any of that stuff.”

The way you play it off feels casual, like it doesn’t actually matter. Your eyes tell a different story. Chan’s heart breaks a little as he does everything he can to not show it. Jay, unfortunately for you, also notices.

“Is everything okay with…shit, what’s his name?” Jay asks.

“Come on, Jay, they hard launched like 6 months ago, shouldn’t you know his name by now?” Lisa, ever the best friend to you, chimes in.

“Ease up, Lisa,” you say, voice a little tired. “Things with Seungsik are fine, he’s just busy right now.”

“Hey,” Jay starts.

“We can always do fall stuff with you,” Chan hears himself offer without even realizing he’s saying anything. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him.

“Bro, you hate fall shit,” Vernon scoffs.

“I do not,” Chan retorts.

“Since when? I had to twist your arm for Friendsgiving last year,” Jay counters.

“That is true,” Lisa agrees.

“No you too,” Chan directs at Lisa.

“That’s really sweet, Channie,” you cut across the bickering. It takes everything in him to remain neutral at your compliment and the use of a nickname. “Maybe we can do some stuff as a group. I feel like Fall is the time for friends anyway.”

There’s a smattering of agreement, names thrown out of other friends that aren’t there, lighthearted eye rolls at how into this season you are, and more than a glance or two in Chan’s direction. He does his best to ignore those. He doesn’t need to think about them right now. All he can really focus on is that he agreed to get up insanely early on Sunday morning so that you could take this train ride that you’ve wanted to do in the Fall to see all the trees changing colors. Especially since the colors are more vibrant this year. Which is fine. Chan doesn’t really mind being up early, but nobody else is committing to go. Not even your brother. The fact that you seem unbothered at it being just you and him makes Chan’s stomach flip.

Chan is nervous when it comes time to leave for the train ride. You offered to pick him up since you were dragging him out of the warmth of his bed so early in the morning and even said he didn’t have to go through with it. Which meant you probably wouldn’t go through with it because the two other people that had tentatively agreed backed out the night before. Even over text, Chan could tell that you were disappointed at the thought of not going. And even he had to admit that he was curious about the draw of this particular activity. So off you went.

It only takes one day for Chan to start changing his opinion on the season. Or, one person. There’s something about the way your face lights up the second you’re on the train that takes him over as well. You’re more excited, still, that the train doesn’t seem that crowded, so the two of you will have your own little area to sit in without anyone else that close by. Sheepishly, you admit that the train runs multiple times a day, but this gives you the most time at the top of the mountain. Taking advantage of how rare it is to spend time alone with you, Chan asks you what exactly it is that you love about Fall. Maybe if he hears from someone who loves it, he’ll see it differently.

He watches as your face transforms. Your eyes get wide, and a genuine smile spreads across your face, gone just long enough to ask if he’s sure. All Chan can do is laugh because it’s so endearing. But he nods, and you’re like a kid at Christmas. You start with the leaves as the train pulls away from the station. There’s more to them than just changing color and falling to the ground, at least to you. Yes, they’re pretty, like shades of gold fluttering along with the wind and bringing good fortune. You liken it to growth in a way Chan never considered. Sure, the leaves are changing color and dying. It’s also about growth and release. Trees need to let go of their leaves so they can go into their next phase. So they can be ready to grow new leaves and new life in the spring. You don’t get that without the release in the Fall.

You like the way things taste fresher, too. The way apples feel crisper because it’s when they were meant to be enjoyed. The way vanilla and cinnamon just warm your soul with everything they’re baked into. You love the comfort, like a warm blanket, of just being able to bake so many things. When Chan points out that you bake all year around, you get that playful smile again. You agree and disagree at the same time. You can bake all year round, but certain things were just meant for when the weather starts to get colder.

Most of all, you really just feel like it’s a positive change. Of learning to let go of all the things that are holding you back. Of cutting out those parts of life that feel dead or stagnant. Of starting the process to allow new things to grow. Chan doesn’t mention that maybe you’re not as good at that part as you want to think. He can tell you want to be, but he wonders if you realize there’s someone in your life who really isn’t adding anything to it anymore. He doesn’t mention Seungsik and neither do you.

When you get to the top and step off the train, Chan gasps at the sight. He’s never really stopped to appreciate nature like this and it’s overwhelming in the best way. It makes him feel kind of small, except it’s not a bad feeling, and he’s really glad that you suggested taking the early train because it means the top of the mountain isn’t crowded. He’s so busy taking in the clear views that go on for miles that he doesn’t even notice the way your face lights up watching his reaction. He can’t possibly know how full your heart is at him being so present.

“This is beautiful,” he whispers. It seems like a crime to disrupt the peace.

“Yeah, it is,” you agree. There’s something in the way you say it that makes Chan look over at you. By the time he looks, though, your eyes are on the horizon as well.

“Have you done this before? I don’t feel like I remember Jay talking about it at all,” Chan asks, still watching you.

You stiffen for a second in a way that’s entirely at odds with the mention of your brother. Or maybe your mind is a million miles away. That’s another thing that Chan’s always found so interesting about you. There’s a brightness and a lightness about you, but there’s also a sense of mystery. LIke there are parts of yourself that you always hold back. Like you want to appear to be entirely open, even though you’re not. Like there are secret parts that only your closest relationships get to know.

“Jay wouldn’t have,” you finally answer with a smile. “Our grandparents brought me when we were both still little. But Jay wasn’t interested, so he stayed with our parents. I’ve wanted to do it again as an adult, but you know, life happens.”

“Anyone who cares about you would want to see this,” Chan admits as he looks out at the views again.

It’s too honest, and Chan knows it, but there’s just something about this kind of environment that makes him want to admit things he shouldn’t. Or wouldn’t, normally. There’s something like anonymity surrounded by this much nature. It reminds you just how small people are in comparison. He’s also thankful that you seem to be agreeing that you can say those unspoken things here. That is, until he feels your hand on his arm, turning him to look at you.

“Thank you, Chan,” you say with more sincerity than he’s ever heard in all the time he’s known you. “I care about you, too.”

“I, um,” Chan starts and clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”

“We’ve never hung out like this, just the two of us,” you say, still watching him.

“No, we haven’t,” Chan agrees because it’s all he can do to hold onto his rapidly slipping composure.

“I was…okay, this is gonna sound dumb, but I was a little nervous. That’s why I tried to give you an out,” you say. Your voice is soft and you look down at your feet. Like it’s too much to admit while looking at Chan and when it’s so quiet all around you.

“I almost took it,�� Chan tells you.

“Why didn’t you? Weren’t you worried?” you wonder.

Chan shrugs to buy himself a second. “Because it was important to you. I figured it was better to roll the dice and risk it being a little awkward so you didn’t miss out.”

You turn away, but Chan catches the look on your face anyway. Catches the way you take a steadying breath. Can’t miss the way you try to hide as you wipe away a tear. The last thing he wanted to do was make you upset. And even though his heart is racing, he pulls you into a hug. He’s not sure what else to do except whisper sorries against your hair.

“No, no, no,” you finally say. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I made you cry,” Chan disagrees.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just so insanely sweet that I was overwhelmed for a minute,” you tell him.

“Guess it was awkward after all,” Chan says. It’s a little self-deprecating.

“No, it wasn’t,” you assure him. “This is so much more than I could have asked for. I’m just, I guess I’m not really used to people doing things like this for me.”

Chan is thankful he’s not holding you anymore because there’s no way to hide the way his heart tries to beat out of his chest. All he can do is smile and hope that you can’t read his thoughts because they’re a weird mix. His heart is full that you’re so appreciative of something that seems so small. Sure, life is short, and there are only so many days. But it’s also too short to pass up on opportunities to see something different like this. To actually stop and experience the world around you instead of just rushing to the next day. His heart also breaks at the idea of you not being used to people doing things like this for you. Because it seems so small. It doesn’t seem like some huge thing to do. Chan and Jay have been friends for more than 10 years, so he’s known you for a long time. He knows that you don’t have the best taste in partners. Still, though. He can’t imagine something so small being so impactful to you.

The two of you mostly stick close together, or at least within eyesight of each other. There’s so much to see at the top of the mountain. Little signs seem to ring around the edges, telling people what they’re looking at or giving a history. Each one makes Chan appreciate the views even more. Every once in a while, he also catches you watching him and smiling, like you’re still checking that he’s enjoying himself. He can’t say that, of course, he’s enjoying himself, he’s with you, but he tries to smile back every time.

Eventually, you suggest having lunch at the restaurant next to the little station where the train stops. He’s been so busy taking in his surroundings that he doesn’t even realize that he’s hungry. Right on queue, his stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and you laugh it off. Once you’re sitting down, you can’t seem to settle on one thing for lunch. Without thinking, Chan suggests that you just share a few different things so you can try what you want. Who knows when you’ll be back up here again? Although you seem hesitant at first, a little reassurance from Chan goes a long way. That and him insisting he’ll be happy with whatever you order.

It’s truly an entirely perfect day, one neither of you really wants to end, even if you won’t admit it to the other. But you have to take the train down eventually and come back to reality.

“Sorry I have to take this,” you say with a frown at your phone.

Chan thinks it says Seungsik, which makes him frown, too. It takes a real effort for him not to follow you out of the room with his eyes. Not that Jay, Seokmin, or Jiyeon would notice. They’re currently locked in a Mario Kart battle, with Jiyeon winning yet again. Chan risks a glance in your direction and makes a snap decision.

“Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?” Chan asks.

“Yeah, something to drink,” Seokmin says.

“Is losing making you thirsty?” Jiyeon teases.

“You can’t win forever, Ji,” Jay shoots back. “Come on, Seok, we can work together on this.”

“That’s cheating,” Jiyeon giggles.

Chan ignores the banter to go to the kitchen. Ostensibly, he’s actually planning to get drinks for the group in the living room. Realistically, he’s curious about what’s making you frown and if you’re okay. From his spot in the kitchen, he can hear your voice drifting through the door of Jay’s bedroom. It’s hard to focus on getting drinks.

“I understand that your work is important, but,” you start, working to stay quiet despite the annoyance in your voice.

Maybe this was a bad idea because he wishes he could hear the other side. Or at least know for sure that it was Seungsik.

“Yes, I’m aware that you think it’s just a stupid Fall tradition,” you huff. “No, baby, I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter. It’s the weekend, though.”

Well, at least he knows that it’s Seungsik. Not that it makes it any better.

“That’s not fair, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t want you to work hard or try to get that promotion. You know how much I support you. It’s just I want to matter too,” you say, and Chan’s heart fully breaks at the heartbreak in your voice.

What is wrong with this man that he can’t take a second away from work to spend time with one of the most beautiful people in the world?

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You’re always working or networking and…” you trail off. “No, I do get that networking is part of the job, and you’re up for a promotion…Wow, yes, I do get how hard your job is. But do you get that you keep making promises to me and breaking them?”

There’s a bite to your voice that’s entirely foreign to Chan. It’s also at complete odds with the undercurrent of defeat. There are two sides warring during this conversation, and Chan doesn’t really recognize either of them.

“It’s not just some stupid fall tradition,” you say. It’s without any bite now. You’re defeated. “It’s…yeah, I get it. You think it’s dumb. It’s fine, I understand you won’t be coming.”

It feels like the conversation is probably ending, so Chan turns his back away from the bedroom to focus on drinks. All he can do is hope that nothing about his posture gives him away. But he can’t help listening anyway, and he hears you ending the phone call before shuffling towards the kitchen all the same.

“Oh,” you nearly gasp.

As casually as he can manage, Chan turns around towards your voice with a bag of chips in one hand. That plan goes out the window when he sees you rubbing your eyes. All he wants is to be able to protect you from the world. Because you deserve better. Not that he thinks he’s better. He just knows you deserve more than this. More than being unhappy every time he sees you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks. He meant to ask if you wanted anything to drink, yet couldn’t ignore your frown.

“How long have you been in here?” you ask.

Chan shrugs. “Not long, just came to get them some drinks and figured I’d grab chips. Do you want anything?”

“That’s a loaded question,” you say under your breath.

“You okay?” Chan asks again. He knows you’re not, but he doesn’t really want to admit that he was listening to your side of the conversation.

“Can I…ugh, this is so weird, but can I just have a hug?” Your eyes are a little wide and a whole lot vulnerable.

It’s silly, but he would give you anything if it meant that you wouldn’t look broken. No, that’s the wrong word. There’s nothing wrong with being a little broken. It’s just that he wishes Seungsik wasn’t letting you down time after time. Chan sets down the chips and opens his arms without a word. There’s relief on your face as you step forward and wrap your arms around his middle. Your head rests on his shoulder and he feels the moment that your body releases the tension. Feels the moment when your breathing relaxes to match his own. When you step away, your eyes at least look a little happier.

“It’s never weird to ask for a hug from a friend,” Chan tells you.

You laugh at that, a real laugh, and for a second, Chan wonders why. “You seem to be getting a lot of my emotional side lately.”

Chan just shrugs again. “I’m happy to see whatever side you wanna show me.”

Just then, Jay comes into the kitchen, grumbling about losing another game. He doesn’t even look at Chan or you before going to grab the drinks on the counter. It’s probably the perfect timing so that Chan doesn’t say anything else that’s too honest.

“I thought you were leaving,” Jay says to you.

“Wow, trying to get rid of me already?” you ask without any of the normal teasing Jay is used to.

“Of course not. I just thought you were going apple picking with Seungsik,” Jay answers.

It’s then that he seems to really look at you and realizes something is wrong. He looks like he’s about to take back his words when you open your mouth. “No, he’s too busy with something for work. So I’ll probably just stick around here.”

Chan looks at your brother and hopes he picks up the same wavelength. It seems he does because he sighs in resignation. But it’s a mark of how concerned he is that he doesn’t mention Seungsik being a dick for this. “Why don’t we go with you?”

“What?” you ask.

“Hey,” Jay calls into the living room. “Who wants to go apple picking?”

“I’m in, beating you and Seokmin is getting boring,” Jiyeon answers.

“You haven’t won every one,” Seokmin whines.

“You don’t have to do this,” you say softly to your brother.

“Oh, are we going with you?” Jiyeon asks. “I’m in. Can I call Vernon and drag him along?”

“We should ask Lisa if she wants to come too. She loves that stuff,” Seokmin suggests. “I haven’t actually gone apple picking in forever.”

“It’s a lost cause,” Chan tells you, “we’re all going apple picking now.”

“Fine,” you pretend to sigh, “but can I ride with you? Jay’s a shitty driver.”

“I resent that,” Jay scoffs.

It takes a little time to let everyone know where to meet, but Jay manages to wrangle the group well enough so that they all make it to the orchard. True to your word, you ride with Chan. Jay and Jiyeon go to pick up Vernon, and Seokmin goes to pick up Lisa and Mina. Once everyone is there and the bags are bought, groups start to wander off in different directions to look for the best apples. Because, of course, Jiyeon has turned this into a competition and is convinced she can make the best apple pie. Chan knew by the sparkle in your eye that you weren’t going to just settle for that one.

“You’re on,” you say and shake on it.

“Well, this is interesting,” Jay notes.

“Come on, Jay, you’re on my team,” Jiyeon says and grabs his arm.

“Uh, hello, that’s my brother,” you argue.

“Yeah, and he’s tall, better for reaching the perfect apple,” Jiyeon says with a shrug. “Snooze, you lose.”

“If you’re that worried about the perfect apples up high, I’ve already won,” you reason before turning to Chan. “Come on, Chan, you’re with me.”

He doesn’t even hesitate for a minute, which would probably be a little embarrassing if he wasn’t actually looking forward to the afternoon. It seems you have a plan, and all he really has to do is follow along. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been alone with you, either. Any awkwardness left with the train ride.

There’s more to picking apples than just picking the first ones you see, as Chan quickly finds out. You consult the little flyer about which ones are in season and start talking about which types of apples make the best pies. Which are the best for tarts. Which are the best for a bunch of desserts that he’s never heard of. It goes way over his head when you’re talking about the different flavors of apples and which goes best with cinnamon and nutmeg and all the flavors that remind you of the Fall. He’s always known that you loved to bake, but there's something different about seeing it in action like this. And you’re not even actually cooking.

Despite your insistence about the height of apples, you do come across some trees where the lower ones all look bad, even by Chan’s standards. When there’s a ladder around, he offers to climb up it so that you can have the perfect apple. It seems to make you smile every time. The system works pretty well until you come to a tree with the perfect apples and no ladder in sight. In hindsight, it’ll definitely seem stupid. That he helps you fixate on something so small as the perfect apple. Yet, at the moment, it makes perfect sense.

“Here, climb on my shoulders,” Chan offers and bends down.

“No, it’s really okay,” you say, waving him off.

“If you want the apples, then let’s get you the apples,” Chan insists.

“I’m too heavy,” you protest.

“You’re not,” Chan promises.

“You’re not going to drop me, are you?” you worry.

“Never,” Chan assures you.

He stays crouched down to allow you to climb onto his shoulders. Once you hook your legs around his back and he grabs your knees, he stands up, very thankful that he’s never skipped leg day. What he’s not counting on, or prepared for, is your surprise. Because in that surprise, your thighs squeeze either side of his face. He’s sure it’s an involuntary action. He’s sure you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Yet it makes him swallow hard all the same. As soon as he steadies himself (mentally, that is, because physically he’s fine), he steps towards the tree. On his shoulders, you’re easily tall enough to reach the apples you wanted in the first place.

“Thank you,” you say softly when he lets you back down.

“No problem,” Chan says, ignoring the slight dryness in his throat.

Apparently, taking the perfect pictures in the orchard is just as important as picking the apples. Chan does roll his eyes about that a little bit but agrees to be your photographer anyway. It’s the same thing all over again. Your face lights up at having someone to do all these things with and he’s putty in your hands. It’s impossible to say no. There’s a moment where he can tell that you’re a little upset that your boyfriend isn’t there to take pictures with you. Obviously, part of the whole thing should involve him in your perfect world. Yet he’s not the one that’s here. Instead, Chan offers to take a picture of the two of you and then take some with your other friends when you meet back up.

The group also has to decide just how to judge this baking contest. The only rules that you and Jiyeon agree to is that it has to be something baked and it has to use the apples. Beyond that, it’s up to whoever wants to participate just what they make. It’s not usually Seokmin’s thing, but he offers to help Mina bake and, since neither of them are that good, you and Jiyeon allow it.

“Why don’t we get together next weekend and do something else?” Vernon suggests.

“Like what?” Jay asks.

“Pumpkin carving!” you shout out.

“You know what? That actually sounds fun, and we haven’t done it in years,” Jay says.

“Yeah, we always used to have the best pumpkins as kids,” you agree.

“They were pretty cool,” Chan agrees.

“So pumpkins and whatever baked apple thing to see who wins?” Vernon asks.

Everyone agrees, and Chan can’t help but look to you. Anything you might have been feeling over your boyfriend missing yet another Fall activity that matters to you is forgotten. Or you’re doing a very good job at hiding it. All your face shows is happiness. It’s kind of infectious.

It doesn’t get much more stereotypically Fall than going to the pumpkin patch and taking pictures. Really, it’s pretty cliche. Yet, you seem unfazed by the entire prospect. You’re layered up, just like everyone else, to fight off the crispness of the air. Unlike everyone else, your face lights up when you pull up to the orchard, a different one than where you picked the apples. There are rows upon rows of pumpkins, all waiting to go to the perfect homes. You’re out of the car and off to walk through the rows before anyone else, and you don’t seem to have a care in the world.

There’s an art, Chan learns, to picking the best pumpkin. It all depends on what exactly someone wants to carve. Too small, and it feels crowded, too big and the face gets swallowed. Unless you make everything bigger, which is always an option. That gets a chuckle out of Vernon and a smack to his arm from Lisa. Lisa, always entirely honest, is really just in it for the pictures and then for whatever baked goods they get to taste test later. She’s happy to carve a pumpkin too, but she wants to use a stencil. And fully admits that she’ll probably get bored halfway through.

Almost unconsciously, or maybe by habit at this point, Chan finds himself wandering through the rows with you. Every now and then, you pause to consider a pumpkin before moving on. There’s so much concentration on the task, and he can’t help but to wonder if you’re just excited or if you’re also avoiding thinking about other things.

“What are you looking for?” Chan finally asks.

You turn and regard him for a second, evidently deciding that he’s just curious rather than judgmental. “Okay, don’t think it’s lame…”

“Why would I?” he asks honestly.

“I sort of have a couple ideas for what I want to carve,” you admit. “Do you, is it okay if I show you?”

“Yeah, of course,” comes Chan’s immediate reply.

There’s that smile again, the one that lights up your whole face like this is the best day that you can imagine. You pull your phone out of your pocket and open your photos. It’s hard to miss that all the recent images are from the things you’ve done as a group or screenshots or things saved from random searches. There aren’t any recent ones, as you quickly scroll, with you and Seungsik. His attention is pulled back to the task at hand when you show him a couple of different carving ideas you have.

“Which one do you like best?” you ask after showing him several.

“It’s hard to pick. Honestly, I think you should get a couple of pumpkins,” Chan answers.

That actually seems to make you happier as you pluck one from nearby that’s apparently perfect for at least one of your ideas. Chan offers to hold it for you as the two of you carry on in finding just the right pumpkins. It’s interesting, especially having picked apples with you, that you spend so much more care in this. You explain that some of the pumpkins don’t have the best sides so they don’t look as good when you carve them. They’re good for displaying as is or good to back with, but you want the prettiest pumpkins if you’re carving something.

Well, he can’t really argue with that.

Once you’re all back at his and Jay’s apartment, everyone splits off in different directions. You and Jiyeon immediately go to bring out your apple desserts. Chan’s a little surprised, still, that Seokmin and Mina actually made something together. But it all looks good, and he’s kind of hungry. Lisa, who suggested ordering actual food, manages to get the bags inside with Vernon’s help. The two of them get to work setting all the food out on the counter for people to start getting plates. Chan starts pulling out plates and glasses for everyone. Jay clears off their little dining table, which isn’t big enough for everyone, as well as the coffee table. It’s not like this is anything formal anyway.

Even though you and Jiyeon want to start with the desserts, Mina manages to convince you to have actual food first. Then, as everyone is carving, they can start trying whatever looks best to them. You reluctantly agree from your spot on the floor. There’s plenty of space to sit on the couch, but instead, you sit on the floor, right next to Chan’s legs, occasionally brushing against him as you move. It’s a little harder for him to watch you without being so obvious and just as hard to ignore your presence. There’s a vibrance to you again, like everything in your world is right. Like nothing could possibly be missing. It doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t mention Seungsik; don’t seem to be missing him during this activity. It’s not like apple picking where he bailed. He was never part of these plans. Maybe that’s the key, or maybe you’re realizing that doing all of this with friends can be just as fun. Whatever the reason, Chan wants you to keep smiling like this.

After protesting, sitting on the floor to eat, Chan has to agree that sitting on the floor to carve pumpkins makes the most sense. It’s easier when you’re not bending over to the coffee table level. It also gives him more space. Like Lisa, he’s using a stencil that he printed out. He wants it to be perfect, and he’s not sure he could do it freehand.

“Okay, I want dessert. Who’s going to tell me what’s what?” Vernon announces.

You’re up before anyone can say anything to grab your desserts. Plural. “Okay, so I made two…”

“Which is cheating,” Jiyeon interjects.

“Is not,” you reply and stick your tongue out at her. You open each container. “These are just apple fritters and these are salted caramel apple bars.”

“Tell me you did not make caramel from scratch, too,” Jiyeon whines.

“It’s so easy, of course I did,” you retort.

“Ugh, of course,” Jiyeon groans. “Anyway, I made apple-pomegranate cobbler.”

“Which looks amazing,” you compliment, causing Jiyeon to beam.

“And since we knew these two would go totally over the top, we just made plain old apple pie,” Mina says.

“Hey, we worked hard, don’t undersell it,” Seokmin points out.

“I’m sure it’s great, Seok,” Lisa says to pacify him.

“I’m going to eat it all,” Vernon announces.

He goes to get a plate and, true to his word, puts some of everything on it. You carry on carving and wave off Chan’s offer to get you something. It’s hard not to play favorites, but he also doesn’t want some of everything. At least not yet. So he grabs one of the salted caramel apple bars that you made and some of Jiyeon’s dessert. Things get quiet again as everyone is either enjoying the dessert or focusing on their pumpkins.

Despite Vernon taking a break to eat as much dessert as he could stomach, he does get back to working on his pumpkin and it’s annoying how good it looks. He went in without a plan and his pumpkin is one of the best. Chan thinks his could probably be a lot better, but he’s also happy with it. As predicted, Lisa abandoned hers halfway through and has been picking music to play ever since. It’s kind of nice, though, to have her doing that. It makes the whole afternoon into the evening pass by in the best way.

Chan should probably think of new words, but this is another one of those days that just feels like the best of the season. Everyone is together and happy. Nobody is fighting, unless it’s you and Jiyeon playfully arguing when your apple bars win as the best dessert. It’s fine to be in your feelings, and Chan meant it when he said he would be happy with whatever side you wanted to show him. It’s also important to have the lighter days. The easy days. The ones that make weathering the storm a little more manageable. It’s clear there’s definitely still a storm, and he’s thankful for the little breaks like this.

However, as it turns to night, everyone starts to filter out of the apartment. Seokmin, Mina, and Lisa want to go out to the bar and ask if anyone else wants to come. Jiyeon and Vernon already planned to go out to dinner. They’re still in that phase where they want to act like they’re not dating, even though they definitely are, and everyone is happy for them. Jay’s been talking to someone off some dating app that he wants to go hang out with. That just leaves you and Chan.

“I’m actually kinda tired, so I think I might just stay in,” Chan tells Seokmin when he asks again if either of you wants to come to the bar with them.

“I don’t really feel like going out,” you admit before looking at Chan. “Do you mind if I stay here with you?”

“Course not,” Chan answers, ignoring the look he knows Jay is giving the two of you. Your brother’s never really been good at being subtle.

“Lame, but I get it,” Lisa says with a shrug. Everyone but Jay filters out for their plans and he disappears into his bedroom to get ready. Chan gets up to start cleaning up and putting everything away.

“You don’t need to help. You’re a guest,” Chan tells you when you join in on the cleaning.

“Wow, a guest? And here I thought we were friends,” you scoff.

Chan shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I figure if I help then I can rope you into watching a movie with me,” you answer.

“Fine,” Chan says, pretending to be put out.

Truthfully, he’s going to agree to whatever you want to do. You could say that you wanted to learn a new language and Chan would probably at least give it a try. Down horrifically bad. Yet, he’s too caught up in thinking about hanging out with you again that he doesn’t see the way you look over at him every few minutes. Misses the way your gaze softens at how much care he uses in moving the pumpkins. Misses the way your eyes rake over him as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize things are starting to shift for you as well.

Instead, the two of you finish cleaning up mostly in silence and are settling onto the couch by the time Jay reemerges. Convenient timing given that he doesn’t have to even make up an excuse about why he can’t help. You’re quick to call him on it and he’s just as quick to brush it off as he runs out the door. It leaves you and Chan on your own for the night. So you pick the place for take away and Chan picks the first movie. Just like that, you settle in for the night.

part 2 coming on dec. 3rd, part 3 coming on dec. 6th. let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged 💕

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hey-kae · 1 year

Note

In love with all you fics! Ugh I’ve read them multiple times bcs I can’t get enough of them. I was wondering if you could do one where Max is with Kelly (or just a random OC with a kid) but has a baby girl with the reader. The readers daughter is doubting Max’s love for her since she sees how much time he spends with his girlfriend child. And the reader and Max don’t exactly have the best relationship since it was only supposed to be a one night stand but they are now bonded for life. Can the reader be very shy, understanding of Max’s situation and caring but when it comes to her baby she takes out her claws. Idk I just love me some f1!Dad lol The reader can either end up with Max or another driver I just want some good angst with a fluff ending 🥲

Seamless Transition

Pairing: dad!max verstappen x female reader

Warnings: Language, mentions and implication of sex, mention of pregnancy.

a/n: in a hypothetical, unrealistic world where i have a child with Max, my only request would be for jos to stay tf away from my kid💀 i switched kelly with an oc cause i don’t feel comfortable writing about irl partners in situations like these. anyway, i hope you enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated… (i’m happy u enjoy my writing, anon!!💕)

“Pa” is dutch for “dad” apparently…

All throughout your life, there's always been one sentence that felt provocative and almost stupid, one that was widely known, widely repeated and reused, ringing in your ear as it rolled off different tongues, with different tones and accents but the same challenging certainty crippling behind its words.

"Your whole life can change in a day." People would insist and you would absolutely refuse to believe in such saying, until you found yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test that was definitely supposed to come out negative; at least you were hoping and praying that it would.

Instead, the plus sign felt like a mocking nemesis, pointing a ridiculing finger at you and laughing its heart out as the memories from over a week ago played, replayed, and rewinded in your mind like a broken record you couldn't stop the spin of. The only thing left for you to see was the hazy, blurry image of Max on top of you as the two of you engaged in a drunken mistake that left its permanent mark on your lives in the form of a child.

Was it exactly the right time for a baby to show up in your life? No, far from it, but that mistake ended up giving you the most precious gift of your lifetime, a baby girl that quickly became the one person in this wicked world that you'd be more than ready to defend with your blood and life.

Fast forward four years, it was safe to say that little Lilly Verstappen was the center of your world and the most important person in your life by a long shot. She was a ball of sunshine that lit up your days with the smallest of smiles and a tiny glimpse of her sparkling blue eyes.

Her features were a mix of you and Max. It was like she chose the best out of each of her parents and adopted it as her own.

At the time, telling Max that you were pregnant was the most nerve wracking thing you'd ever done, rightfully so since the two of you were merely friends that hooked up, acquaintances that didn't exactly get along smoothly but shared a night together as more of an accurate description. There is no denying that the both of you freaked out about the outcome but Max was supportive nonetheless. Sure, everything between you and him was tense but he was still just as understanding as you were. Eventually, you had come to the conclusion that parenting a child together wouldn't be the worst thing. You'd be able to manage it.

He gets to see her on his free days where he's home and you get to keep her when he's away, bar a few weekends where he invited you to watch the grand prix so his daughter could watch him race, as per her own request a few months after after she started talking.

However, it should've been obvious that things were too smooth sailing for the peace to last. You, Max and Lilly often dined together from time to time to give her the best out of a not so ideal situation, a taste of having both her parents by her side at the same time. Many afternoons were spent with you over at Max's apartment or his at yours with toys spread out on the floor and the three of you entertaining Lilly as best as you could, sometimes even putting her to sleep together only to fall into a tense and awkward silence that threatened to explode within seconds when her eyes would fall shut. Despite everything, things had went as far as taking road-trips together and enjoying your daughter's sweet moments and giggles on the way to whatever destination Max planned to surprise her with.

To put it briefly, besides the bond Max shared with his daughter, you were now somewhat used to his presence. To a certain degree, the lines of just co-parenting that you agreed on had blurred.

All was perfectly well until Max sat you down and told you he was dating someone and that she had a kid as well, both of you questioning how his time with Lilly would be affected by the presence of another woman, Valerie and another child around. He told you that maybe they can be friends, the other kid also being a girl, Ella and just a few months older than Lilly.

That conversation happened around a year ago and while there never was any bad blood between you and Max's girlfriend, it seemed like things weren't as smooth sailing on Lilly's side.

One day, as Max dropped off Lilly at your place, you noticed a frown on your daughter's face, her hand up to her mouth as she bit her nails with her head slightly bowed. It was an unmistakable expression.

"Is everything okay?" You asked Max as you picked Lilly up, her arms wrapping around your neck immediately.

"She seems a little upset but she wouldn't tell me why." He explained, reaching over and fluffing Lilly's hair.

"You don't wanna say goodbye to pa, angel?" He asked her softly.

She twisted in your arms and wrapped him in a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek while he smiled and rubbed her back.

"Bye-bye, pa." Her small voice spoke.

"I will see you in a week, princess. Okay?"

With that and a small nod from Lilly, Max left, closing the door behind him as you carried your daughter inside, into the living room where she got preoccupied with a coloring book and some pencils while you eyed her attentively as she began scribbling onto the already messy pages.

"Hey, Lilly." You called to catch her attention, "How was your time with pa, sweetie?"

Moving to sit by her side, you pulled her onto your lap, brushing her soft blonde hair behind her ears. She carried the coloring book over and kept coloring as you kissed her head.

"It was okay." She replied with a small shrug.

"What did you do? Did you have fun with him?"

She smiled and nodded, "He got us ice-cream and i helped him to train then we we played with Poot and small cars." She gushed, tossing one coloring pencil on the floor and hopping off to grab her purple teddy bear at the mention of his name.

"That's good, princess." You watched her dig through her bag for the bear, in your mind a million different thoughts because she still wasn't acting normally.

Usually, she'd be gushing about her time with Max when he dropped her off, talking, telling and retelling you every detail until she fell asleep but it seemed like you had to pull the information out of her this time, and coupled with the upset face she had on earlier, it left you suspicious.

Figuring you'd have to find out about what went wrong in a different way, you decided to change the subject.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Following that and her answer to the question, the two of you headed for the kitchen where she sat by the table in the corner, drawing on loose papers while you cooked for the two of you, then you told Lilly to put away her pens and papers in her room and you set the table to eat when she came back.

The night went smoothly after dinner. You got Lilly to shower then dried her hair before putting her to bed early for school tomorrow then left her room to retrieve the laundry from the dryer, folding each item neatly and separating the clothes into two stacks, yours and Lilly's.

On your way to your room, you stopped by your daughter's room to drop off her clothes.

Not wanting to disturb her slumber, you placed the stack on her desk and figured you'd just put them away tomorrow morning. However, as you picked the laundry basket back up, you noticed some interesting drawings on some of the papers on the desk.

With a deep set frown twisting your expression, you picked up the papers, tossed them in the basket and rushed to your room.

Laundry was long forgotten as you launched yourself onto your bed with Lilly's drawings in your hand.

Paper after paper, you scanned her various drawings of stick figures. Each one was drawn in a different color and you knew your daughter enough to know who each color symbolized.

A purple stick figure with blonde, or rather yellow hair was always drawn at a distance from everyone else, often times at the bottom corner of the page, with a sad expression drawn onto its face.

Your heart shattered because purple was her favorite color. Purple was her.

The other people portrayed were often holding hands, two tall figures on the sides with a smaller one in the middle.

The only other time someone was drawn alongside the purple stick figure on the bottom was in one drawing and the person symbolized was taller than the one in purple and was scribbled in dark green, a color you often chose to buy your things in.

You were bewildered as you stared at the papers, dropped them on the mattress then picking them up again to stare some more.

Was Lilly feeling neglected when she spent time with Max?

Every additional detail you noticed in the drawings angered you more, especially her attempt the draw a tongue poking out of the smaller stick figure between the two tall ones, Ella presumably.

While the little girl always seemed polite and harmless, it wasn't a secret how mean children could be.

You'd have to talk to Max about this.

Within seconds, your phone was in your clutch, ready to call Lilly's father but something stopped you. You needed to ask Lilly about her drawings first, about how things were between her and Max and how things were between her and Ella.

The plush mattress welcomed you with open arms as you fell back onto it, sighing heavily as the thought of your daughter feeling left out. Needless to say, it was a sleepless night for you. You sat in bed, pondering the possible situations and conversations you'd have to have in the morning.

You just hoped it would all work out at the end, that everything you were assuming would be just that, assumptions, because you might be completely understanding of Max's relationship and job, but nothing would be stopping you from defending your daughter and making sure she's getting the treatment and care she deserves.

Max was so insistent that he wanted to be in her life, wanted to be her dad, so he better be acting like it.

—

At sunrise, you were up and so was Lilly, tired eyes watching you as she ate her breakfast at the kitchen table and you prepared her school lunchbox. Despite complaints and grumblings, she had gotten dressed and sat in front of you for you to do her hair.

However, as you rushed through the different morning chores and rituals, only one thing was on your mind. How the hell we you supposed to bring up last night's subject to Lilly in a way that wouldn't cause her to repress whatever was happening?

Max usually called before school to chat with her a bit and say good morning. After the phone call would be a perfect opportunity.

A few minutes later, you grabbed your car keys and your daughter bag and just like always, as you headed for the front door, your phone rang and Max's name flashed on the screen.

You handed Lilly the phone and she immediately answered, pressing the device to her ear while the two of you walked to the car, your hand holding onto her free one.

In the silence of the vehicle, you listened in on the conversationsr as you started driving.

"Choco corn flakes and milk." Lilly's small voice replied to Max who was probably asking her about her breakfast.

"No, pa. I didn't have homework. I was with you yesterday, silly." A small giggle echoed in the car.

...

The conversation went on for a few minutes, leaving you about 10 other to interrogate Lilly.

"Daddy says hi to you." She smiled at you and handed you the phone when she hung up.

"Oh. Daddy is the best, isn't he?" You tested with a false grin.

"Yeah." Lilly hummed half heartedly and you gripped onto that loose thread as you took a left turn.

"You have fun with him and Ella when you're at his place?"

"Yes, mommy. But pa and Ella have more fun together." She shrugged her shoulders, "They laugh so much, sometimes i don't know why. Maybe he loves her more, because he wants to marry her mommy."

Your heart broke at the way her voice shifted from cheery to dull and tinged with disappointment. From what you saw, Max was a good father, but obviously you couldn't be there for all the time he spends with Lilly so you clearly can't be sure of how well he's fulfilling the role of a dad.

You slowed the car down a little. Some delay from school wouldn't be much of a deal, especially in this case.

"You don't like being at pa's place? Does he not play with you?" You asked cautiously, not wanting to feed into the idea that Max doesn't love her as much as he loves Ella, because despite that statement being the main thought claiming your mind, you wouldn't want to lead Lilly to believe in that further.

"I just get bored sometimes, when pa is with Ella or Valerie. But it's okay. I'm a big girl and big girls sit alone like grown ups sometimes."

You hummed to show her you were listening and miraculously, she carried on talking, "I know pa loves Valerie but she's a meanie. She shouts all the time."

Your heart was beating increasingly fast, "She does, baby? Has she ever shouted at you?"

"No." She replied too fast.

"Lilly, don't lie to mommy. No one is allowed to scream at you, princess so if anyone does, you need to tell me." You said with a gentle voice.

"Sometimes she shouts at me... but it's okay, because she shouts at Ella too."

Just as she spit that out, you pulled up in front of her school, your heart heavy with Lilly's thoughts now and your mind turbulent with worry over your daughter's feelings. You were already planning Max's murder... and maybe Valerie's.

You dropped her off and drove back home like a mad woman. Before even making your way up to your apartment, your phone was against your ear, ringing as you waited for Max to pick up.

"What's up?" His chill voice asked.

"We need to talk. Come over." You hung up and stormed upstairs.

The half hour it took Max to arrive and knock at you door seemed to last forever and ever but when the doorbell finally rang and echoed through the apartment, you swung it open harshly and was met with confused blue eyes and furrowed brows.

"What's happening? Is Lilly okay?"

"Get in, Max." You gestured inside and moved out of the way.

Max was clueless and confused as he walked inside the familiar, calm apartment and sat down on the couch centering the living room, looking behind him to watch as you walked over and sat in a loveseat on his side, a troubled, unsettling look on your face.

"Look, i don't wanna come off as rude but you out of all people know that i will always go out of my way and try my hardest to protect Lilly and make sure she's happy." You started lightly, making Max slightly nervous. He leaned forward so his arms were resting on his knees, his expression showing hints of worry now as he gaped at you.

"What? Protect her from what exactly? I don't understand." He asked.

"Are Lilly and Ella on good terms?" A blunt question left your mouth.

Max's eyes widened for a mere second as he absorbed the shock of such interrogation. In his head, he searched through all the memories he had of the two young girls together, no red flags making themselves known. He was wondering where all of this was coming from too.

"I don't think i've seen them disagree or fight. Why?" He answered but you didn't acknowledge his question.

"What exactly do you guys do when Lilly's staying at your place? How do you pass time?" You felt like a detective and you hated it but you needed to know everything, needed Max to know how his daughter felt and see his reaction to it, see if he was taking his role as her dad seriously.

"Like normally, really. Breakfast, playing, training, lunch, a drive around or a walk, maybe going to a park, then dinner and just some sitting around before going to bed. You need to tell me if something is wrong." He explained then returned back to wondering why did it seem so urgent that he comes over if this is what you wanted to talk about.

"Max, do you pay attention to Lilly's mood when she's with you?" Desperation and frustration were starting to lace your voice and slip out between words as you watched Max frown.

"Why do i feel like you're hiding something and throwing accusations? I'm Lilly's dad. I need to know if something is going on." He started getting angry.

"Are you acting like it? You practically begged to be in her life. You repeated it a thousand fucking times that you can be the dad she deserves. Are you actually doing that?" You got up and found yourself pacing behind the couch where Max was sat.

"What the hell? What the fuck makes you think i'm not properly taking care of her? Fucking tell me." He turned in his seat to look at your constantly moving figure, his eyebrows raised and his mouth agape in a mix of anger and confusion.

"She did, Max! She made me think that." You shouted, "She was saying things like how it's okay that she sits alone and gets bored and, fuck- just feeling left out."

"What?" He was shocked, the words you said making him stand to his feet, properly turning around to look at you.

"Look, i've always been understanding of your job, of your relationship, of the presence of another child in your life but never, never will i ever tolerate knowing my daughter is feeling left out and alone when she's with you. I grew up feeling that way, lonely and i sure as fuck won't allow that to happen to Lilly." You were furious with how calm he was about this while your blood was a mere celsius away from boiling. Not once in your life were you ever this angry but when Lilly was on the line, you were a different person.

"I promise you, i never leave her alone." He defended.

"Then why did she say you love Ella more than her? Tell me why?" You shouted, "You want to be her dad, act like it!" You were teetering close on the edge of loosing all composure and control.

"I'm trying!" He shouted back, "You gotta keep it in mind that this is new to me. This is my first time having a kid of my own! Just because you so naturally adjusted to it, it doesn't mean that it's gonna come so effortlessly for me too. I'm trying to make the best out an unconventional and weird situation, I'm really trying to be a good dad for Lilly."

You fell silent and leaned against the back of the couch, rubbing at your forehead out of stress, the wrinkles of a frown creasing your skin as your thoughts raced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a fidgety Max.

He cared. You didn't know him that much but you definitely knew him enough to realize and see that. He was clearly trying but was also failing at some part of the whole parenting role without even realizing.

Like he said, having a child was something that both of you were continuously getting used to so, to some degree, you couldn't blame him.

"We should stop screaming at each other. It wouldn't be good to go back to fighting." He referred to the earlier days before the hookup and the pregnancy, where you and Max in the same room inevitably meant an incoming explosion.

"Yeah." You muttered, "Yeah, you're right."

You eyed him cautiously, not knowing where to go from here.

Luckily, he gave you a small smile and patted the space beside him on the couch, "Come here. We need to figure out a solution. I really want the best for Lilly."

You sighed and allowed your shoulders to drop, ignoring the little tingling in your heart at the way Max was smiling at you. You just took a seat at a comfortable distance from him, slacking against the back cushions of the sofa and pulling a pillow into your lap for comfort, all while Max watched your moves attentively.

"Tell me what she said first. We need to figure out where things went to shit first, right?"

"Yeah, that's a good call." You confirmed as you picked at the skin by your nails, "She said that you and Ella have more fun together, that you laugh more and she doesn't know why..."

"Okay..."

"That you love Ella more because you're in love with her mother. I think that's the thing that i hated hearing, because i understand not being able to give her your undivided attention all the time but i just don't want her to feel like her dad is favoring someone else over her, you know?" You teared up at the thought of Lilly not having the assurance that both her parents love her.

Taking notice of your glistening eyes, Max patted your shoulder, taking you by surprise. It had you thinking how weird it, two people who have literally seen and touched almost all of each other's bodies at some point, being so awkward about a touch to the shoulder that lasted maybe a total of 3 seconds.

"We'll figure it out. Lilly will always be my priority. I will make up for everything, i promise." He reassured, breaking you out of your thoughts, "One more question, because i need to know this to figure out a plan."

You sighed, "Okay... Shoot."

"Is she fighting with Ella? Like... Do they get along okay? Did she mention anything about their relationship?"

You cringed at that. You were gonna have to tell him about the way Valerie plays into this.

"What?" He questioned once he noticed your expression, "What is it? They don't get along, do they?" He asked and watched you struggle to put words together.

"She didn't mention Ella much." You started.

"Okay..." He frowned, "I've never heard or seen them fight so i kind of knew that."

"Yeah..." You hesitated, "Max, do you remember how we agreed to never shout at Lilly? And to never let anyone shout at her either?"

He nodded.

"Valerie kinda... screamed at her, but she thinks it's okay because Ella gets screamed at too." You said with a low voice.

"What?" Max was surprised, "I talked to her many times about our rules that we follow with Lilly and she told me she respects that."

You sat in silence for a while, not knowing what to say while Max's head raced with how much he hadn't been noticing about the time his daughter spent at his place.

He wanted his house to feel comfortable for Lilly, for her to feel just as at home as she did in your apartment, so he couldn't really help thinking that he failed at that, failed at reserving enough attention to his daughter.

"Do you think i'm a bad father?" He asked.

"I never said that, Max." You felt a hint of guilt at the thought of making him feel that way.

"No, be honest, because i feel like i shouldn't take care of Lilly alone anymore if i don't notice all this shit." He blurted with his eyebrows raised then he pursed him lips.

"Please, don't say that. It's not what i meant. I don't expect you to be perfect." You sighed, "I'm not a perfect mother either but that's because we're humans, because we're still figuring out this whole parenting thing, and honestly, i feel like figuring it out isn't something that ever ends."

Subconsciously, your hand landed comfortingly on his shoulder, "You try your hardest to be a good presence in your daughter's life, i can see that, it's just that she's growing up. She can understand and speculate about everything around her now, so we just need to be better at regarding her feelings and making sure not to give her wrong impressions."

He rubbed at his eyes with frustration seizing his muscles and finally allowed his back to meet the cushions behind him as he nodded.

"I'm gonna need your help for a while, though. Just to understand what to change." Max mumbled.

You smiled, "Don't worry, I'm always happy to help."

"Thank you."

A quiet few minutes of silence followed then Max got up to leave.

"I need to talk to Val." He groaned as he grabbed his phone and keys.

"I hope everything goes well." You wished.

"Yeah." He replied nonchalantly, "How about i pick you up later and we go get her from school together? We can go eat somewhere, just the three of us."

Smiling, you nodded and walked with him to the door.

"See you later, then." He said just as he starting walking down the stairs.

You shut the door while trying to figure out the feeling in you chest and why something was telling you today would be the start of major changes in your life and Lilly's.

—

Following that day, everything seemed to work itself out.

Max picked you up as planned and everything went really well. On the way to get Lilly from school, he told you he talked extensively with Valerie and that lead to a fight, and a breakup.

Worried that he would be thinking that was what you wanted, you were quick to show support.

"Is everything okay?" You asked and he quickly nodded, giving you a quick glance and smile as he drove.

"I really didn't mean for the two of you to break up. I know you love her and Ella and want-" You couldn't help rushing.

"Hey, hey," he interrupted, "i told you. Everything's okay. It was a long time coming kinda thing. Don't blame yourself, please."

As days went on, Max made it a point to come up with plans for the three of you and the first time he had Lilly staying with him afterwards, he got her to invite you for dinner, something that became a repeated pattern and for some reason, your heart was starting to beat faster at every invite and every smile Max would give you.

It wasn't much later when you realized you were catching feelings for the father of your child and you weren't quite sure what to do about that.

A month later, on an afternoon when you were meant to pick up Lilly from Max's place, he opened the door for you and instead of letting you in, he stepped out and closed the front door behind him.

"Can we talk?" He asked with his hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets.

"But... Lilly..." you pointed to the door.

"Mom is there with her." Max reassured that your daughter wasn't on her own and proceeded to guide you away.

With your eyes narrowed in suspicion, you followed him, your nerves getting worse by the second.

"So, car ride or a walk?" He asked once you were out of the building.

Frowning, you tilted your head to the side and responded, "Walking's fine."

Max nodded and so the two of you began taking small steps along the sidewalk.

Silence reigned for a while. You couldn't really figure out anything to say and it was rather obvious that Max was planning the approach to whatever he wanted to talk about in his head.

By the time he spoke up, the two of you were a few buildings away.

"I've been really enjoying our time with Lilly." He awkwardly said and if anything, that confused you more.

"Yeah, it's been good." You agreed with a nod.

"I like it when it's just the three of us." Max continued.

"I like it too. I want Lilly to have as many normal experiences as possible."

For some reason, the silence returned after that. Meanwhile, your heart had begun racing out of control as you laid out the various paths that this conversation would take, the one outcome you wished you'd end up with being repressed and avoided. Instead, you found yourself considering other options.

What is something happened with Lilly?

Are they not getting along?

Does he want to change anything about their relationship? Or about the way the two of you parent her?

...

What if he was dating someone new?

Sure, it has barely been a month since his breakup but according to the pieces of information you'd pick during your time with him, and Lilly of course, you'd concluded that he wasn't actually in love with Valerie.

Interrupting your thoughts, Max sighed heavily by your side.

"You know, I'm trying hard to be smooth with this but-" he chuckled, "I'm clearly shit at that."

"How about you tell me what this is about as a head-start..." you suggested.

Max nodded and seemed to calculate his words for a mere second, "The nature of our... relationship?" He hesitated.

"Oh..." You let your confusion show, "What about it?"

He fiddled with his hands for a while before finally speaking, "I wanna try- No. I wanna ask you if you would agree to trying something new."

The determination in his voice confused you even further.

"New... Like, how?"

"Would you be open to the idea of a date? No Lilly, just me and you going somewhere nice together."

You stopped dead in your tracks and stared at Max like you were speculating if he was serious, all while your heart was dancing to an unknown tune that had slowly been becoming its favorite.

"I know this can be potentially risky, because what if we actually date and - i don't want it to seem like I'm getting ahead of myself - get in a relationship? It could complicate things with Lilly and shit but we've been co-parenting for four years now even though we hated each other's guts so, really, we're capable of working through anything." He took a breath, "I just want something more with you. I really like you, so much more than as just Lilly's mom. Just consider it 'cause i just think we would have something good, that we'd be worth a shot, you know? I've been thinki-"

"Max!" You interrupted his rant with a chuckle of his name and a wide smile, "Breathe, please."

"So?" He seemed nervous as he asked and you found it adorable.

"I'll go on a date with you." You nodded with a big smile, making Max grin so wide.

—

From that point on, everything is just history.

The first date went so amazingly well that the second followed so soon after it, then a third, and on the fourth, Max asked you to be his girlfriend and you instantly agreed.

The transition was practically seamless.

Lilly was over the moon once she noticed the nature of your interactions with Max shift. The first night she got to spend the night with both her mom and dad under the same roof as her, she was absolutely beaming.

Things between you and Max were going so well, it almost seemed surreal, but both of you, and Lilly of course, couldn't be happier that it was in fact your reality.

A few months into the relationship, you and Lilly fully moved in with him and the first free weekend morning spent there, you woke up to them making breakfast together.

It was a moment you truly cherished, when you walked into the kitchen to find Max holding his daughter on his shoulders so she'd be able to grab plates from the high cupboards, both of them displaying big and genuine smiles.

"I feel left out, I'm not gonna lie." You walked in joking, effectively grabbing both their attentions.

The three of you had a delicious and peaceful breakfast together and when Lilly finished eating and ran off to her room, Max moved you off your chair and onto his lap, his eyes locking with yours. Your legs were dangling off of one side, your arms hooking behind his neck as you kissed his lips lightly.

He smiled at you and pulled you back in, keeping the curve of his lips throughout the short peck.

When he pulled away, his grin grew and he brushed his hand through the front strands of your hair, securing it behind your ear.

"I love you." He spoke softly and, like always, it made your heart pound.

"I love you too, Max."

Just like that, the two people from five years ago who couldn’t be in the same room for over three minutes without fighting were long gone.

And just like that, everything worked out in a way that no one expected it to but in the idealist of ways possible.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen angst #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 oneshots #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @anyataylorjoy DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: Rhaenyra Targaryen was known as the Realm’s delight, but her best friend Elys? She was given the name as the Realm’s desire. A story full of jealousy and envy; what happens when Elys takes the one thing away from Rhaenyra?

a/n: im so sorry this took so long to be updated but here it is! also a scene is inspired by euphoria and the whole nate cassie and maddy thing!

P.t 1 P.t 2 P.t 3 P.t 4 P.t 5

Rhaenyra furrowed her eyebrows as she stares at her best friend who just entered the room. Flinching, Elys places her hand on her chest as she steadies her breathing, she had not been expecting her in her room.

In a slightly disheveled state, Elys awkwardly smiles at her as she lets her hair loose from its previous hairstyle. “What are you doing here Rhae? You should have mentioned you were going to visit me” She announced, getting rid of her jewelry.

“Did you forget? it’s Friday” Rhaenyra replies, emphasising the word Friday. It was a tradition for the two of them to sneak to Fleabottom and wonder around. Elys pauses her actions, looking at her through the mirror. Taking in her silence, Rhaenyra stands up and walks towards Elys.

Placing her hands on her shoulders she sighs, “Have you been okay recently Elys? You’re always disappearing and you’ve barely spoken to me, god knows what you’ve been up to” She points out. Fucking your uncle, Elys thought.

Ever since Daemon asked her to meet him in his bed chambers, the two were well acquaintances. Fucking each other at any chance they could, even if Rhaenyra was close by. Elys found it thrilling.

“I’m fine, Rhaenyra, I promise” Elys smiled at her before turning around to face her, “Now, it’s never to late to go to Fleabottom is it?” She cheekily grinned as Rhaenyra reciprocates it.

“I think I need to tell her,” Elys sighed, her cheek flushed on Daemon’s naked chest. “Tell who what, pretty girl?” His voice was soft as his hands toyed with her brunette locks. “Rhaenyra. My best friend. Your niece. About what we’ve done” Elys confesses, tilting her head up to look at him.

He doesn’t answer for awhile. “Don’t tell her” his voice cuts the silence, Elys slowly sat up, now straddling Daemon. “Why not? She will find out eventually” She fiddled with her fingers before he takes her hands in his.

“Exactly. Eventually. Not now, I enjoy being with you, you know? I want to spend as much time with you as I can before she finds out eventually” His words made Elys soft. She shyly smiles before leaning down and placing gentle kissed along his jawline making him squeeze her thighs.

“God I can’t get enough you” He moans, grabbing her waist and manhandling Elys on her back so that he was hovering over her. The two look deeply into each other’s eyes, “Neither can I” Elys whispers before Daemon returns his assault on her lips.

“I wish I could run away with him,” Rhaenyra said, breaking the comfortable silence as the two watch Daemon patting Caraxes. “Why? And leave me here with boring lords and ladies?” Elys joked, nudging her best friend.

Rhaenyra scoffs, “Well those boring lords and ladies adore you Elys. Besides, It would be nice if it was just Daemon and I in Dragonstone” She smiled to herself.

Elys felt her heart drop, the guilt of what she was doing behind Rhaenyra’s back was slowly sinking in. “Do you like him that much?” She asked as the Princess looks to her.

“Very much so. With Daemon, it feels like- you know what it’s probably silly to say it” Elys furrows her eyebrows shaking her head, “It wouldn’t be silly Rhaenyra” “As wrong as it would be, I wish to run away with him and marry him. We understand each other and he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. It’s refreshing really” She grins.

Elys takes in her words. “You love him don’t you?” She questions, hiding her guilt. Rhaenyra only smiles and looks away, she had her answer.

The rest of the afternoon Elys spent in her bedchambers, sulking in guilt. It was her own fault for doing something like this behind Rhaenyra’s back. She decided that tonight she would end whatever the fuck was between Daemon and her and tell Rhaenyra. There was a celebration being held that night, it was the perfect chance to confront Rhaenyra.

“This will be a good night, I can feel it” Rhaenyra squeezes Elys’ hand as they walk into The Great Hall. Elys tightly smiles at her before the two sit down at the royal table. Being Rhaenyra’s close friend had its’ perks.

As King Viserys’ was doing his speech, he was interrupted by Daemon walking in. Elys practically held her breath as sauntered his way to the table, a small but noticeable smirk on his face.

He sat at the edge of the table, his eyes never leaving Elys as she didn’t dare to look at him. Rhaenyra looks between the two and doesn’t think much of it.

As the night progressed and people were dancing and had one too many drinks, Elys took the opportunity to whisper discreetly to Daemon to meet him in his room.

The second Elys shut the door behind her, Daemon pulls her towards him to press kisses along her exposed collarbone. “Daemon-“ She started, “Shhh” He hushed her as a moan escaped her lips. This was not going as planned she thought.

The pleasure he was giving her was too great to end it now so she thought this would be the final time before she was going to break it off. Elys wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him even more close.

“You smell so good” He groaned in her neck as his hands made their way to her back to undo the laces. He barely got her dress off before he took her leg and wrapped it around his waist.

Aggressively pushing her up against the door, he started sucking her tits making Elys throw her head back, moaning at the sensation. He slid into her making them let out moans, as soon as she adjusted to his size, he started pumping into her at an inhumane speed.

“Oh my- fuck!” She screamed, not caring if someone heard her if they were to walk past. “You feel so good” He grunts into her ear as a smiled makes it to her lips. A sudden knock at the door made Elys gasp, Daemon immediately shutting her up by placing his hand on her mouth.

Elys stared wide eyed at him as Daemon shouted, “Who is it!” “It’s me uncle,” The sound of Rhaenyra voice made Elys panic. “Shit” Daemon mutters, “Just a second!” He shouts again as Elys tries to tidy herself but her dress was tangled.

“Daemon help me!” She urged silently as tears were brimming her eye, he quickly helped her and took her face in his hands. “Don’t cry” He hushed, wiping her tears as she covered her mouth, sobbing. “She’s my best friend, she’ll kill me!” Elys continued as Daemon pulls her to his chest.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra knocked again making Elys flinch, He looked around the room to look for places to hide her. He quickly pulled her behind the panel divider, “Everything’s going to be okay, just wait here” He says as Elys nods, hot tears still streaming down her face.

She felt like the worse person in the entire world. Daemon’s eyes soften as he kisses her wet cheeks and walks to the door. “Uncle-“ Rhaenyra paused as she studied his appearance, a frown on her lips. “Was I interrupting something?” She awkwardly says as Daemon glances behind him, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

As soon as Elys heard the door close and their voice’s becoming faint, she slowly walks to the bed and lays there for quite some time. This was definitely not how she imagined things would go.

taglist

@lightdragonrayne @lazypinkpig @pearlstiare @cleverzonkwombatsludge @graniairish @stargaryenx @issybee0611 @piceous21 @duhitzdae @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @judewife @lady-stark-winter-rose @hwa-chaeming @deamonloversblog @kodzuvk @mutteringghost @luna-ann @lyannesworld @xcinnamonmalfoyx @sesamepancakes @plethoravellichor @bregarc @stephaniebalanag @witch-with-the-cat @valsandoval @lyra689 @targaryenmoony @itsalwaysgay @rockerchick05 @oh-no-tia @do-youseeme @esposadomd @lyn07

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fanfiction #matt smith #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #hotd smut #daemon targaryen smut #game of thrones #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x oc #daemon prince #rhaenyra targaryen

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lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— nepenthe ; part five

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please do not read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small bit of SA is in part two and if it tiggers you, don’t read.

— intro, part one, part two, part three, part four

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— word count ; 1.2k

SOLARIS January 22nd, 2024 Charleston, SC

Theo entertained my questions as he drove me home in a cool sleek black car.

Beside him, in the passenger seat, I droned on and on about nothing in particular – but after not being able to talk to anyone but myself or Father for so long, I doubt I'd ever get tired of chatting.

"Y'know, Mister Theo–"

Theo raised a brow and flicked his eyes to mine, "I thought we talked about this whole 'Mister' thing." I was thankfully able to understand him better now that I had spent time with him.

I sheepishly giggled, "Ah, sorry! I...I'm just trying to be on my best behavior so Chairman Jeon doesn't find any faults in me and make me disappear." I chirped back, tugging at the split ends of my hair.

Theo's foot pressed gently on the break and turned his attention to me after stopping at a stop light. His lips twitched and beheld me in the highest amusement. I blinked back owlishly.

Suddenly, Theo threw back his head and laughed, silky-looking curls smushing against the headrest.

"Ah, dannare!" he chortled, clapping his palms together in mirth, I hesitantly eyed him before nervously joining in on his laughter so I wouldn't feel left out.

Theo calmed his laughter, but amusement still flickered within his hazel eyes. "He will not hurt you, tesoro. There is much more to him than others think." he divulged to me, continuing driving.

I excitedly nodded, "Seems so, Mister Theo! He looks really scary but he has really pretty eyes and pretty jewelry. He even doctored my knees for me," I turned my knees towards him so he could see the pink band-aids on my knees. "Could that mean we're friends now and he won't have me killed?'

Theo's lips twitched, eyes still on the road, "He would love to hear that, little tesoro. I promise you, Gguk has no plans of harming a hair on your head – and I'm sure he would be honored to be your friend."

A delighted squeak left my lips, "How wonderful! I like having friends! We're friends too, right Mister Theo?"

I pointed to the road I lived on and waited for Theo's answer as he started to drive down my street.

"Of course, little tesoro."

I grinned happily and felt my heart beat quickly in happiness. This night turned out much different than I had expected, but I wasn't complaining. I had made not one, but two friends. My first friends ever.

It was an amazing feeling.

"Oh! There's my house!" I chimed in, pointing to a small, run-down-looking three-bedroom house.

The teal paint had begun chipping away, and the yellow door had some stains, but it was where I had grown up. Mama liked the teal paint on the house and the yellow door – she had painted it herself, and I was sad to see it washing away as the years passed.

Theo's brows drew together when he looked at my house.

Lips thinning, he watched me unbuckle my seatbelt and prepare to exit the car, bag in hand.

"There is one thing I need to discuss with you, tesoro," he said, stopping me from leaving the car.

My head cutely cocked to the side, "Yes, Mister Theo?"

Theo cocked his head to the side and watched me carefully. My shoe gently tapped against the floorboard, slightly impatient, not in a bad way – but it was only a matter of time before Father would come home...and if he saw me getting out of Mister Theo's car...

I shivered at the beating I would get for that.

"Yeah, Mis–I mean Theo?" I corrected myself, flushing at my near miss. Again.

Theo snickered lightly and gave me a quick pat on the head. I leaned happily into the gentle touch, not used to other people treating me so nicely. I reveled in it and hoped it would happen again.

Theo smiled softly and turned his upper body around to face me. "I would like for you to come back to Ataraxia tomorrow if you could."

My brows furrowed when he watched me closely.

"Why?" my bottom lip pooched out as I thought.

Theo chuckled and gently touched my tender head. "My wife used to be a nurse...and we – the Chairman and I – would like for her to check over you to make sure you're not injured further."

My heart fluttered happily.

They cared! Since they cared...that means they really are my friends, right? Friends care about one another! Oh, how exciting this was! Life was turning around! Thank you, dear lord! I silently prayed but a thought came to mind and had me balking.

Would Mister Theo's wife ask where my bruises come from? And what would I tell them? I don't like to lie. I've never been good at it.

My teeth came down to nibble on my bottom lip.

Friends don't lie to each other. But I couldn't tell them the truth about Father. If he found out...he would be really...really mad and I could never see my new friends again.

But maybe I could hide my arms! Right? That would work! And I could see Chairman Jeon again!

I would love to see him again! Since he wasn't so scary now that I had spoken with him. And Theo said he was my friend now. And friends wouldn't kill one another.

Theo's eyes slightly widened at my worried, downtrodden frame.

"It is alright, little tesoro. Arilie will only check your head, plus I would like to learn more about my new friend," he assured me, hazel eyes staring deeply into my sapphire-colored ones, smiling when I perked up.

"...okay." I nodded, a little grin coming on my face. "It may be late when I come...if that's okay. I have chores to do." I told him, fisting my crocheted bag in my hand to resist the urge to squeal happily.

I would see the man with the pretty, sparkling eyes soon!

Oh, Mama! Isn't this wonderful!?

Theo clapped his hands happily and sent me a wide smile – bright white teeth gleaming and contrasting beautifully against his skin tone.

"Great! I will see you tomorrow, little Tesoro! Sleep well."

I opened the door and hopped out, giggling happily.

"I will, Theo! Thank you!" I held onto my bag with both hands and peeked into his eyes. "I hope you sleep well to! Drive safe." I waved goodbye with both hands before turning to scamper inside the house.

I closed the door behind me and fell against it.

"Wow," I murmured to myself, wondering how so much had happened in the span of mere hours.

I made two friends, went outside for the first time in years, met Chairman Jeon and looked into his pretty eyes, and got to ride in a cool car.

This was a dream come true!

A tear of joy dripped down my cheek, the overwhelming feeling of euphoria washing through my body as I slid down to the floor, sniffing.

I was so excited for tomorrow!

I just had to think of a way to sneak out without Father noticing my absence.

author's note ; ✨

Ahhhhh! It's almost time for interactions with Solaris and Chairman Jeon! I'm so freaking excited! As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! ❤️✨

Thanks so much for reading!

#jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #nepenthes #jjk #chairman #ceo

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givemea-dam-break · 11 months

Note

Not a prompt unless you want it to be, but you’re the only one who will appreciate -

George/Reader (or OC) where Reader is a Database Analyst for Fittes. Enemies to lovers.

Reader dedicates her life to making information more accessible/understandable/traceable and George can begrudgingly accept that. They make appointments with each other to argue over the merits of digitization, tagging systems, etc and if these arguments spill over into meal times, maybe they grab a bite and keep arguing, and oh no does everyone think we’re dating??

Anyways <3

a/n: RAHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!! i know essentially nothing about technology though so i’ve probably butchered that part of this but i hope you enjoy!!! and thank you to @ikeasupremacy you really helped this go from a 2 page long flop that contained literally fuck all to a 5 page decent piece of work pahaha

warnings: mild language, mild angst words: 2.8K taglist: @neewtmas @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @gotlostinfiction @waitingforthesunrise @mirrorballdickinson @mischiefmanaged71 @magicandmaybe @wellgoslowly @ettadear gn reader

Nice To Meet You - George Karim

“You know that, on the whole, this will make life way easier for you?”

“Since when do you want to make life easy for me?”

Taking an angry bite out of your sandwich, you say, “I’m not doing this specifically for you, twat. This is quite literally the purpose of my job, so it’s for everyone.”

George Karim sits back in his chair, glaring at you through the green reflections on his glasses. “And what exactly is the benefit of digitalising all of it?”

“Going over this again? Right, well, for one, there’s going to be new computers put into the Archives meaning more people can use them. Have I lost you yet? No? All right. For two, being able to search up what you want in a database is way easier than pacing for hours trying to find an old newspaper that someone might be using already. For three, multiple people can read the same file at the same time. You can’t do that with the musty old paper copies.”

There’s a moment of silence and an air of tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. The only sounds beyond George’s annoyed huffs of breath are the jingle of the café’s windchimes and chatter from other customers.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be sitting here discussing your plan of action with him, but your supervisor told you that you’d best talk about it to other agencies and their members to see what their thoughts are. Of course, the one time you head to Lockwood and Co. with the intention of speaking to them on purpose, hoping and praying you’d at least be speaking to Anthony Lockwood himself; you were sent off with his second and by far the most infuriating boy in all of London, George Karim. And, well, as you already know, he is a tough nut to crack.

“Why are you so stuck up on physical files, anyways?” you ask. “It’s not like we’re going to burn them on a pyre and force you to use a website. They’ll still be there. It just seems much more convenient to click a few buttons and have what you need.”

“They hold a particularly warm place in my heart,” he says with a hint of sarcasm. “But, fine, okay, life will be made easier for everybody with this new system. So why is it only being implemented now? Smaller agencies could’ve done with this years ago while Fittes and Rotwell and all the big companies have had it this whole time.”

Though you hate it, you can only shrug. “The big companies don’t want to have to compete with the smaller ones.”

“You’re saying this, but you’re working for Fittes, the biggest of the big companies.”

You grip your sandwich harder, pretending it’s George’s throat. “Yes, well, better pay than a smaller company. Some of us don’t get offered a bedroom when being accepted into a job. Besides, as much as I don’t like the big companies making a huge profit off of the Problem, I don’t have a choice. They’re the only ones with the resources I need. And, don’t forget, that’s where you used to work, too.”

Surprisingly, George doesn’t have a quip for that. He takes a thoughtful sip of his tea, glancing out of the café window and onto the busy street just beyond. The sunlight hits the lenses of his glasses in such a way that they shine a reflection down onto the table in front of you.

“So, this would be accessible for everyone?” he asks. “Not just the big agencies and their lackeys.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this to make you believe it, but yes. If that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Quite frankly, you’re not surprised about having to repeat things over and over. Every single conversation you’ve ever had with George, no matter how fleeting or filled with irritation, has seemed like he had the personal mission of finding flaws in everything you do. Holding your rapier wrong – you absolutely did not, if anything, he was holding his wrong. Pronouncing a word wrong once. Taking a moment longer than him to spell a ridiculously long word on a report.

Now is no different. It’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his mind, working overtime trying to find an issue with this plan. But there’s nothing, that much you know from you and your team’s extensive planning and the look of mild horror on his face.

You can’t help the proud smile that parts your lips. “Go on, then, Georgie. Thoughts?”

He gives you a scathing look that only fuels the pride burning in your chest. “I think…”

“Yes?”

“I think that…”

“Carry on. I need to hear you say it.”

“Oh, shut up. I think that it’s a good idea.”

“Hmm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

You’ve never seen such anger in a person’s eyes. “I think that it’s a good idea. Happy?”

“Very. That’s all I needed to hear.”

George opens his mouth to say something, probably something insulting, but a waitress breezes over. She’s a sweet middle-aged lady with a contagious smile that even has him easing up a bit.

With a twinkle in her warm eyes, she asks, “Is there anything else I can get the lovely couple?”

And that does it. If you weren’t so shocked yourself, the horrified expression on George’s face would’ve cracked you up. It looks as if someone stepped on his puppy and then tried to feed it to him. Then, amongst your own disgust, you realise that the expression is at the thought of dating you, and no matter the animosity the two of you share, you can’t help but be a little offended.

“Oh, uh, we’re not –“ You purse your lips. “Nothing else, thanks.”

She leaves momentarily, and your table lapses into an entirely uncomfortable silence. You can’t look at George. He can’t look at you. There’s a weird pit in your stomach. Nausea. Right? Because… Ew.

“I told you we shouldn’t have continued this conversation during my lunch break,” you grumble.

He hums in agreement, finding particular interest in his swirling tea. “We should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, we’ve covered all bases. Of the plan, I mean. Not anything else. The plan. My job.”

But, even still, you’re both sitting. You’re not moving. Why? Maybe you’re paralysed with disgust. Maybe the mere thought of people thinking that the two of you are dating is debilitating. Maybe, maybe, maybe… You’re considering it?

God, no. That’s horrid to even think about.

“I, um, are you heading back to the Archives, too?” you ask.

George takes a moment to respond, as if lost in a daze. “Oh. Yeah – Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

As soon as you stand, George is on his feet, enough money slapped on the table for the two of you, and heading over to the exit. And, well, as much as you want to let him head off on his own, here comes that realisation that it’s a little insulting that he is the one trying to escape so quickly.

What a little prick.

You’re out of the door almost as soon as he is, insistent that you will be the one ahead. Yeah, sure, you’re heading to the same place and could try to be amenable, but will you? God, no. You want him to know that you can leave just as easily and are just as horrified by this prospect of a relationship as he is.

Why wouldn’t he want to date you? Beyond the constant arguments you have, you’ve always figured you’re a pretty decent person. Smart, but not arrogantly so. Friendly. Funny. Good company. Caring. What’s not to like? How dare he be disgusted!

But he seems just as determined to reach the Archives first. It’s only a few corners away, but it feels like a miles-long race between the two of you. But if the prize is your dignity, then to hell with the distance – you’d go actual miles to preserve that, especially against George.

It comes to a halt when you’re forced to wait at traffic lights, unable to even slip across the street before they change from red to green merely because of the amount of coincidentally flooding traffic.

For what feels like hours, you have to stand beside him, listening to him breathe and mutter and tut as if this is the biggest inconvenience in the world. Hey, if he didn’t think a relationship with you was such a horrible idea then this wouldn’t be taking place!

No matter that you think the exact same. You’re allowed to feel like that.

Do you feel like that?

The beeping of the pedestrian crossing jerks you from your thoughts, and you’re rushing across the street before you know it. And, oh, curse his long legs! He’s getting ahead of you.

There’s an anger building up in your chest now, one that probably isn’t fully justified. Perhaps it stems from deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy you’ve not had the mind to think about for a little while now. Or even just out of pure spite of George Karim that has been pulsing through your veins for years now. Why has it been there? Because of him. Because of his incessant need to find flaws in your work and you, and his need to huff at anything you say or do. Like your existence is a bother.

Either way, the anger forms words before you can think to dismantle them. “What’s your issue with me?”

George pauses, near the side of the pavement, with the Archives in clear view behind him. He’s frowning over back you, dark eyes narrowed and bouncing with golden sunlight. Why should someone that hates you so be complimented by the sun? It’s entirely unfair, especially when it’s only blinding you.

“What?”

You stop a foot or two in front of him, panting a little from walking so fast. “What exactly is your problem with me? What did I do to you? Because, far as I know, you’ve hated me ever since we first met.”

The words take a minute to process, and it looks as though he’s trying to figure out some hidden meaning behind them. There’s nothing hard about what you’ve asked. Nothing harder than admit you feel ashamed to have even asked it.

“I don’t –“ George’s frown only deepens, taking complete notice of the frustration on your face.

“Forget I asked,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. Stupid question anyways.”

But, when you start to walk away, a hand on your wrist stops you, pulling you back slightly. When you look back, George is there, hand wrapped around your arm and staring at it as if it isn’t his own skin on yours. You expect him to pull away, disgusted at the thought of touching you, but his grip only softens slightly.

“I don’t hate you,” he says.

Scoffing, you say, “Yeah, right, and I’m Penelope Fittes. Let go of me.”

And, to his merit, he does. But your feet aren’t cooperating. They won’t move. Why, why, why won’t they move?

“I’ve never hated you,” he murmurs. His gaze is fixed on yours, something you’ve always noticed he’s steered clear of doing, and you feel frozen under it. “Intimidated, yeah.”

“Intimidated?” You roll your eyes. “George, come on. I was trying to be serious, but you’re just making a joke of it.”

The look in his eyes at that moment is a mix of desperation and exasperation. “I am being serious. Do you know how hard it is to be regarded as the smartest person someone’s met, to rely on the intelligence as your only form of worth to people, and then find someone smarter than you?”

Words try to form in your throat, only to crumble like chalk beneath too-strong fingers.

“And I’m sorry it’s made me lash out at you,” he continues. “I know it’s a horrible thing to do, but it’s like my mouth doesn’t want to cooperate with my brain. Truly, I regret how I’ve treated you. You’ve never deserved it.”

Your throat feels thick, and it’s hard to swallow. “Georgie, don’t lie.”

There’s a flicker of a smile on his lips then. “You know I like it when you call me that?”

“You told me you hated it when I call you Georgie,” you say, but it feels like your voice is dwindling.

“I told you that so you’d call me it more,” he admits. “(name), I really, truly have never hated you. And, again, I am so sorry I’ve treated you the way I have. I admire your intelligence and your insistence of sticking up for yourself. I just wish I had started things differently between us.”

The anger is back, burning a hole in your chest. “You’ve had years to tell me this. Why? Why didn’t you?”

He’s breathing rather heavily. “I was scared. I was trying to figure things out – my feelings, your feelings. But, more than anything, I couldn’t bring myself to change from the person you’d begun to see, because what if you hated the real me more than this one you know so well?” Now, his eyes tear away from yours as he stares up at the sky, looking for guidance from some divine being. “Even when you insulted me, I enjoyed it because it was from you. How lucky was I to even be able to speak to you, never mind hear you come up with all these unique names? There are millions of people who have never heard you speak, who have never had the pleasure of speaking to you or will never have it again, and I didn’t even want to chance becoming one of them.”

With that, the flames roaring inside your chest are extinguished. Instead, now, there’s a strange, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach that inches its way up your body and into your mouth, holding your tongue and stopping your ability to speak.

Despite all the quips, the need to find faults in what you do, he has never meant it. How horrible does that make you, saying all of these things to him because that was how you genuinely felt?

Do they count, seeing as they were formed on the basis of a personality that doesn’t truly exist?

Your fingers hurt from tearing at the skin around your nails. “You really think I’m so bad that I wouldn’t like the real you? Georgie, there is no way I wouldn’t have preferred it.”

He laughs at that, and the sound only bolsters this strange feeling in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but almost. More melancholic. Could you have had the opportunity to hear that laugh for years now? To cherish it the way a person does a memory? The way an artist does a creation?

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am,” he says, and you swear he inches slightly closer. “About the way I acted. The fact it’s taken me this long to admit this to you. All of it. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

And you don’t. Not really. Not when it’s left a hollow feeling in your chest, left by the realisation that everything you said was unfounded and cruel and based on a person you had no true conception of. Not when this is how it has been for years between you both. Weeks, you could understand. But years?

There’s a part of you, though, that could potentially forgive him, given the chance. George may be quick to criticise or provide information for something, but he has always kept his emotions at arm’s length, that much even you know. So, for him to come and outright tell you all of this takes insane courage.

Even still, you can’t fully comprehend it all.

“Well,” you say, “you paid for my lunch. So that’s a start.”

He smiles then. A flash of white teeth and an insurgence of unfamiliar fondness in your heart.

“We could restart,” he suggests, pushing his glasses up his nose just so.

Despite the hollowness, you nod and manage a small smile. “I’d like that.”

Not even a second later, his hand is hovering in the air just between you both. “George Karim. Nice to meet you.”

It shouldn’t make your smile grow, it really shouldn’t, but it does.

“(name) (last name),” you say, clutching his hand in yours. “Nice to meet you, too.”

And, somehow, that smile of his, one you’re sure you’ll grow more accustomed to, adds a small piece of filling to the hole in your chest.

#george karim x reader #george karim fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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cieloclercs · 7 months

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𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 , cl16 — chapter five

pairing. charles leclerc x senna!oc part. 5/? warnings. basically just pure angst 🫠 yeah it’s gonna be like that for a while 😭 swearing, arthur is such an icon in this icl word count. 5.7k

SAUDADE. in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

05. everything changes (nothing changes)

author’s note. so i’ve had this chapter written for about 2 months. no i don’t have an excuse as to why i haven’t posted it yet 🫠 but i figured i’m going through a bit of a dry spell in my writing at the moment so i may as well post it 😭 hope you guys enjoy, and as always, please leave a comment or reblog if you did !! <3

read it on wattpad!

previous: chapter four next ➜ chapter six

Nice Côte d'Azur Airport 8 February 2021

NOA DOESN’T SEE Charles for another two weeks. She doesn’t hear from him either, not including his brief message confirming her flight’s arrival time. He’s giving her space, just as promised, and she finds herself grateful for that. The time in between their meeting at the café and the looming date of her temporary move to Monaco is for setting the record straight. When Noa breaks the news to her parents, they immediately assume the best of the situation – they’ve patched things up, got over themselves and finally rekindled their friendship. She flushes bright red when she has to cut off her mother’s delighted cheers, and her heart aches to see the grin on her face fall. We’re not friends, she tells them firmly, despite the pain it causes her. Noa is doing this for her career, not for some distant, nostalgic memory of the boy she’d once thought the world of. No. It’s her turn to be selfish for once.

Flávia is understandably upset. Just as Pascale considers Noa to be like her daughter, she has always viewed Charles as a second son. Even though she tries to deny it on several occasions over the weeks before Noa’s flight to Monaco, she isn’t stupid. The first few months after she and Charles stopped speaking to each other, Flávia had been fairly vocal about what she thought of the whole situation. She understood the hurt that they were both feeling, but as far as she was concerned, they still needed each other. Her greatest fear was that they would both continue to grow into the cut-throat world of racing without the person they trusted most at their side. As someone who experienced how difficult life could be at the pinnacle of motorsports, even as only a family member of one of the racers, Flávia worries for them. She had Gabriel to lean on after Ayrton’s death – her best friend and the love of her life. Noa and Charles, as long as they’re apart, don’t have that.

Speaking of her father, he seems to understand her reasoning a little more. Gabriel Borges is ambitious if nothing else. He fought tooth and nail to win his championships and solidify his place in the Formula 1 hall of fame. It’s a trait he’s passed on to his daughter. Sponsorships like this are important now, with racing becoming more and more lucrative with each passing season. In order to succeed, a driver needs the backing of some of the most influential brands in the world. For a rookie, it simply doesn’t get bigger than Chanel. Both Noa and Gabriel know that this is an opportunity she can’t pass up, no matter how difficult it may be for her with Charles there. They need to make it work.

He may not necessarily agree with her ‘keep him at arm’s length’ approach, but if that’s what she thinks is going to work for her, then Gabriel will support her through it.

With Luiz and Eloísa settling into their apartment in Italy, it’s only her parents who wave her goodbye at the airport. Noa has never been a fan of flying. The seats are too cramped and the people too noisy – she can never find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep. Sometimes it can be peaceful simply watching the world pass by beneath her from the window, but eventually, miles upon miles of ocean gets a little boring. So Noa spends the first thirteen hours of her flight wide awake, silently begging the couple in front of her to do something about their screaming baby. Stopping off at Heathrow for the change over feels like a slice of heaven. Just to be able to get up and stretch her legs for a little while is pure bliss. But within an hour she’s back on a different plane, looking down over the English Channel, over Normandy and eventually, the south of France. The nerves begin to set in then. There’s no going back once this plane lands – she’ll be stuck in Monaco with the person she most wants to avoid in the world for the next three weeks. Granted, she’ll have her second family there with her too, but Noa doubts she’ll be able to shake the awkward feeling even when they’re around.

Jetlag’s a bitch, is all she can think when she steps off the plane and into the harsh winter sunlight. It makes her skull ache, beating down on her, yet offering little to no warmth – typical Europe. If only it was summer here like back home. She’s grown accustomed to heat in the high twenties and sleeping with all the windows open. Checking the weather app on her phone, she sees that right now the temperature is barely breaking ten degrees. Lovely. On top of that, Noa hasn’t slept for practically an entire day. She can already imagine the headlines if she gets photographed – Gabriel Borges’ daughter spotted wandering airport sleep-deprived and wearing no makeup! The press would have a field day with that one.

She just about manages to haul her suitcase through security before collapsing on one of the lobby benches. It’s her own fault for overpacking, really. She’s never been one to prioritise well when it comes to clothes. Noa pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly refreshing it to see if Charles has messaged her yet – sure enough, sent seven minutes ago: I’m outside. Do you want me to come in and help with your bags? Despite the contempt she still feels towards him, Noa could have cried with pure joy. She sends back a brief yes before struggling up off the bench, all but dragging her luggage through the lobby now. She can only hope he gets here quickly, because her arms are surely about to come out of their sockets if she has to carry these any further.

When his figure appears in the distance, the nerves return. He’s dressed like he doesn’t want to be spotted, in a grey hoodie and shorts, large enough that he can practically hide the entirety of his face in the collar. No one seems to notice him. For the moment anyway. When Charles eventually spots her, he seems to hesitate for a moment – like she’d seen him do at the café, arms hanging uselessly by his side as if he wants to outstretch them towards her, but remembers at the last minute that he can’t do that anymore. Noa’s eyes are glued to the ground as she walks towards him. They meet in the middle. He murmurs a brief hello, and when she doesn’t reply, takes her bags without another word.

They walk out to his car in silence. It’s a black Mercedes G63 – inconspicuous by his standards, and perhaps those of the travellers milling around them (many of them are en route to Monaco, after all). It has black tinted windows, she notices. Charles tells her to climb into the passenger seat while he loads her bags into the back. She hasn’t the energy left to complain. It takes everything in her not to fall asleep as soon as she’s sat down, eyes drooping in the dimmed light, a hazy warmth taking over her body. She jumps slightly as Charles opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine. Before Noa can really process what’s going on around her, they’ve already left the airport.

"How was your flight?" Charles asks after a few minutes, soft spoken and hesitant. An absentminded hum is what greets him.

"It was alright." she murmurs back, fighting off the sudden urge to yawn. There's an edge of discontentedness in her voice, an air of frustration and annoyance about her. Noa has always hated flying, he thinks. Even as children all those years ago, she'd kick up the biggest fuss possible before so much as stepping foot on a plane. His mother always joked about it being because she can't sit still for more than a few hours, which, he supposes, had a fair amount of truth. Charles knows it's because the whole thing made her anxious. He's held her hand at takeoff enough times to have realised it, even if she never spoke the words to him out loud. The memory almost makes him smile. Then he remembers where he is, and his jaw clenches shut.

“Just to let you know, Maman, Arthur and Lorenzo will all be home when we arrive.” Charles is, once again, the one to speak up when they lapse into silence, “They’ve planned a, uh, sort of welcome home – welcome back meal.” He relays, glancing at Noa anxiously out of the corner of his eye. She’s slumped in her seat. The only sign she’s even listening to him is the tiny hum she lets out. “I can tell them you’re too tired to do it today, though, if you’d like. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind pushing it back to tomorrow –“

“No, it’s fine.” Noa cuts across him quickly. “That’s really sweet of them.”

Charles nods. He thinks back to that morning; helping Lorenzo pin up the ‘welcome home’ banner above the archway leading from the kitchen to the living room; watching with a wistful smile as his mother set out a tray of paçoca, the little cylinders of peanut butter Noa used to love when they were younger, on the kitchen table. Where she managed to get hold of them Charles doesn’t know, considering they’re a sweet pretty much exclusive to Brazil. He tries not to think about how Noa will react to it all. The thought digs up old memories he'd rather stayed buried, for the sake of his heart.

“If you want you can get some sleep now. I know you’re probably jetlagged.” He speaks up again after a beat of silence, quieter this time, “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

Noa doesn’t reply for a moment. She’s still turned away from him ever so slightly, but as he glances to the side, he can see her expression reflected in the window. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, biting down hard from the looks of it. He doesn’t know if it’s his imagination, but her eyes appear glossy, brimming with unshed tears. There’s an ache in his heart that he’s not sure how to properly describe. Cathartic might be the only word close enough. It hurts, but at the same time, it’s almost freeing.

“If that’s ok with you.” She finally speaks, after what feels like an age. Her head turns to the side until she’s looking at him. Charles keeps his gaze on the road, but he can see her in his periphery.

“Of course.” He mumbles, a little hoarse. His heart is screaming at his head to turn, to smile at her, to show a little of the warmth they used to share for each other, in the wildest, most fanciful hope she may be reminded of it and find it in herself to forgive him there and then. In the end, he doesn’t turn. Instead, he hears the faint rustling of fabric on skin as Noa curls up a little to the side, leaning her head against the window. It falls silent again. Now Charles is the one with glossed over eyes, battling himself.

“Thank you.” Her voice, melodic as ever, cuts through the quiet. This time he does turn – but she’s not looking at him, already half asleep, eyes closed and fluttering ever so slightly underneath their lids. He watches her until he runs the risk of coming off the road. Charles knows she’s already asleep before he has the chance to say anything in reply.

Noa tends to have very vivid dreams. She remembers many a time closing her eyes and being greeted with an explosion of colour, scarlet race cars screaming down asphalt tracks, her flag: emerald, gold, deep blue, waving her across the finish line. A glinting trophy is thrust into her hands, and she lifts it high into the air, watching the crowd raise up their arms with her – a sea of red and yellow. But today, Noa closes her eyes and sees nothing but darkness. Charles is nudging her gently awake, it seems, less than a split second after falling into her slumber. Bleary-eyed, she sits up. The Leclerc house, her second home, sits gleaming in the frosty winter sunlight like a beacon. A thrill of excitement grips her heart. It’s been so long since she’s seen Pascale and Lorenzo – far, far too long. Her head turns, a half-smile on her face, to find Charles watching her. It falls. The sky seems to darken.

“You ready to go?” he asks. Noa nods solemnly, waiting for him to open the car door and climb out before sucking in a deep, shuddering breath. When she too steps out onto the pavement, her expression is steeled.

Charles is holding her bags in either of his hands. He gives her a look that, after years of knowing each other, she can interpret in an instant – Don’t even try it, I’m taking them in for you. She feels a small surge of gratefulness, but every positive emotion seems to be drowned out by her crushing nerves right now. Noa’s not exactly sure why she feels so nervous. These people are her second family, after all. Maybe it’s the nagging fear in the back of her mind that too much has changed; that things will never go back to the happy, perfect way they used to be.

The doorbell ringing brings her back the present. They’re stood on the front porch now, shoulder to shoulder, tense and stiff. Noa pulls at a loose thread on her joggers, focussing with absolute resolve on the door in front of her – paint peeling away ever so slightly at the edge. She knows if she brushed her fingers over it, they would come away dusted with white paint flakes. A second, maybe two passes. The door swings open.

All her nerves simply melt away as soon as she sees Pascale; arms already held out wide and motherly, eyes glistening with soon-to-be-shed tears, and the most genuine smile Noa has ever seen anyone wear. She looks only slightly older than she remembers. A few more wrinkles perhaps, a couple more grey hairs, but in essence, exactly the same. Constant. At least this much hasn’t changed.

“Ma fille!” My girl. Pascale gasps loudly. She’s rushing forwards, pulling Noa inside and engulfing her in a hug before she even knows what is happening – but the familiarity of it is so easy to melt into. The young woman rests her forehead briefly against her shoulder, suddenly unable to stop smiling, when before she’d been wondering how she would manage to fake one. Of course, she’s known all along how much she’s missed Pascale. The woman has been like a second mother to her for practically a decade. But being here now makes her realise the full force of the emotion. It feels like returning home after a long vacation, when all you want to do is sleep in the comfort of your own bed and relish in the sensation of being utterly safe. That’s how Pascale feels to Noa. Safe.

“Oh, look at you!” she gasps again, pulling away to place her hands on either of Noa’s cheeks. “You’ve grown so beautiful!”

In the two years it’s been since she last saw the Leclercs, Noa has blossomed. From a scrawny eighteen-year-old with skinny elbows and seemingly untameable curls, she’s truly grown into herself. Thanks to training, she’s attained the ‘athlete’s build’ she always craved as a teenager. Days spent soaking up the Brazilian sun on Ipanema beach have bronzed her skin, giving it an almost golden hue. Perhaps it’s the salt air, but even Noa’s unruly curls seem to have matured – instead of going frizzy in the heat and falling messily over her eyes, they now frame her tanned face perfectly. Honeyed streaks of blonde run all the way through to the ends. She looks different, she knows that. But it never hits her until she meets people again who have been absent from her life for years.

“Thank you.” Noa can’t help but giggle. Pascale merely holds her tighter, seemingly inspecting every inch of her face for anything else that may have changed. She can see the surprise and the elation in her eyes – but there’s sadness too, an odd mixture, as if she’s battling with regret. Noa supposes it’s to be expected. They went from seeing each other at least every month to all but no contact for two years. Pascale is as affected by it as she is.

As soon as Noa is released from her grip, she turns to face the other Leclerc brothers, who have been watching the whole time with fond smiles and wide eyes. She goes to Lorenzo first, since Arthur has already seen her fairly recently. The eldest of the brothers opens him arms to her gladly, and she steps straight into them. Lorenzo has always been like her protector. As the boys got older and, as boys tended to do, teased her or played too rough (case in point Arthur almost drowning her at the beach one time), he was always the one to give her a hug and scold them afterwards. With only little brothers (Charles didn’t count, as her best friend), Lorenzo was to her the older brother she never had but always found herself wishing for.

“Woah, how much have you grown? A foot?” he says, pulling away only slightly so her arms are still clasped around his back, and his come to rest on her shoulders. Noa giggles softly. It was a long standing joke that, even at eighteen, she barely rose to the height of Charles or Lorenzo’s shoulder. Miraculously, her long-awaited growth spurt arrived once most girls her age stopped growing entirely. Now she stands at a fairly respectable five foot six – though still short enough for Lorenzo to use her head as an arm rest, he quickly realises. Noa waves him away with a playful glare.

“Did he talk to you in the car? Or was it deathly silent?” he asks, not even needed to use Charles’ name for her to know exactly who he is talking about. His eyebrows raise as if he’s joking, but Noa can sense the hard edge of frustration in his voice. She smiles at him sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t know. I fell asleep.”

Lorenzo snorts. That’s all they say on the matter, because Arthur is soon weaselling his way in between them to give her a welcome hug. Apparently, a minute is far too long for his brother to spend with her whilst he’s stuck waiting on the sidelines.

Charles’ feet padding on the carpeted staircase draw Noa’s eyes unwillingly to him. She hadn’t even noticed him exit the room, too caught up in reunions and holding back tears to pay much attention to her surroundings. He’s taken her bags up to her room, he tells her. She merely nods in reply. The tension doesn’t remain for long – Pascale doesn’t let it. Soon enough, everyone is gathering in the kitchen, all proud, knowing smiles from the Leclercs and gasps from Noa as she catches sight of the ‘welcome home’ banner strung up across the archway. She’d known, of course, that they were planning something, thanks to Charles’ warning, but she didn’t expect something like this. They’ve brought another long, wooden table from God knows where into the room, placing it end to end with the main kitchen table to make more room for the spread set out across it. A white floral tablecloth covers the wood, and on top of it, tiered stands of seemingly all the food she could ever eat – fresh strawberries, watermelon, French cheese (which Noa had been introduced to by the Leclercs, and was shocked to find she actually loved), pineapple, even some chocolate and cupcakes (something she’ll later say is just a one off to her nutritionist), and finally, in the very centre, a bowl full of paçoca, her favourite childhood sweet. She remembers Charles calling her strange for essentially eating peanut butter on its own – but even today, it really is her one weakness.

“Oh, meu Deus.” Oh my God. She whispers. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, holding back the half-sob she can feel bubbling up in her throat. “This – this is too much. You really didn’t have to –“

“Noa.” It’s Arthur that cuts her off, rolling his eyes fondly, “Just let us do something nice for you. Call it a late birthday gift.” He adds with a smirk. Noa scoffs. A part of her had thought maybe they wouldn’t remember her birthday – of course, she was wrong about that.

“This is amazing.” She speaks up softly after a moment, “Thank you so much.” Her throat closes around the words ever-so-slightly, vision blurring, heart aching in the best way possible. Pascale moves forward to pull her body into hers, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“We missed you so much, petit ange.” She murmurs, “We’re just glad to have you back with us.”

I’m glad too, Noa thinks. She’s not naïve enough to believe it will all be smooth sailing from here; not as long as the pair of sad green eyes burning into her back remain. But this, she believes fully, this she can deal with. Reuniting with her second family has been a long time coming.

They eat like it’s the old times, bar Noa and Charles’ playful bickering (fallen flat, almost dead now). Pascale insists on piling her plate as high as possible, mumbling something about athlete’s diets being too sparse (or at least, that’s what she could make out with her questionable French vocabulary). Arthur doesn’t spare a thought before diving straight into the cupcake and chocolate stand, ignoring his mother’s protests about him letting their ‘guest’ choose first. Lorenzo opts for the fresh fruit more than the confectionary. Charles tries to resist the pull of sugar, better than Arthur admittedly, but his attempts are short lived. By any right, that amount of food should never disappear as quickly as it does – but before they know it, every last morsel is gone. Noa sits back in her seat, deep in conversation with Pascale about latest goings on in her family life, finding her eyes growing heavier with each passing second. Everything around her feels pleasantly hazy; comfortable. It’s the same way she feels sat at home with her parents and her brother after a good meal, lounged on the living room sofas watching cheesy Brazilian telenovelas. Like she’s safe to just be herself.

Pascale tells Lorenzo, Charles and Arthur to collect all the dirty plates and begin the washing up. They know that refusing isn’t an option, so it isn’t long before she and Noa are alone. It must be mid-afternoon by now, the Brazilian woman thinks, but her limbs are as heavy as if she’s stayed up all night and well into the morning – which, she supposes, technically she has. Pascale is observant enough to have already noticed, luckily for her. They’ve spent all of five minutes talking in the living room when she tells her to go up to her room and sleep off the jet lag.

“Oh, but –“ Noa is quick to interject, “I haven’t even asked how things are going for you yet.” She says guiltily. Pascale has been so fixated on catching up with every single moment of the last two years she has missed, that there hasn’t even been time to cover anything else. Noa is acutely aware that the last time they saw each other, it had only been a year since Hervé passed away. She knows as well as anybody that sometimes the people that look the most put-together are the ones who are struggling the most. She just wants to make certain that Pascale is doing ok – truly ok.

“I’ll still be here tomorrow.” The woman reassures her with a gentle chuckle. Noa’s concerned expression falls into a tired, but content smile. That’s the beauty of it – right now, they really do have all the time in the world to catch up. Until of course the new season begins. But three weeks before her soon-to-be packed schedule feels like a lifetime.

Noa retreats slowly upstairs, not so much as sparing a glance towards her unpacked bags, or even attempting to change out of her airport clothes before she collapses onto the bed, and almost immediately falls straight to sleep. The ease with which she already seems to have slipped back into life in the Leclerc house (which almost feels like home) is unexpected, but by no means unwelcome. She just hopes she’ll be able to carry that feeling of safety with her into the coming weeks, when undoubtedly, some difficult conversations will need to be had.

By the time the Leclerc brothers have finished the washing up – a difficult task, what with Charles and Arthur squabbling over who gets to dry the plates and who has to do the unpleasant job of actually washing them, whilst Lorenzo, serene as ever, allocates himself the task of sorting the various items of crockery away – Pascale is sat alone in the living room. She looks calm, quietly assured, but at the same time, they can sense a level of disappointment that wasn’t there before. Charles fears, before his mother’s gaze even turns in his direction, that that disappointment is meant for him.

“Où est allée Noa?” Where did Noa go? Lorenzo asks, taking the seat next to Pascale and looping his arm fondly around her shoulders. Arthur, not so delicately, throws himself face down on the long sofa facing the television, leaving Charles to occupy the lone arm chair on the other side of the room. It’s ironic, that he’s separated from his family that way, when he’s been feeling separated emotionally for far longer.

“A l'étage. Pour dormir.” Upstairs. To sleep. Pascale answers, soft-spoken as ever. Lorenzo nods, as Arthur flips his body around on the sofa so he’s no longer lying face down, but rather looking up towards the ceiling.

“Ah. Le décalage horaire?” Ah. Jet lag?

“Oui.”

Charles stays quiet. He knows full well his family are waiting for him to say something – maybe they’re not sure what, but then again, he isn’t either. Noa hasn’t spoken a single word to him. All of her attention has been directed towards his mum and her questions, or to his brothers and their playful teasing about how much she’s grown. That still doesn’t take away from the fact that he knows she’s doing it on purpose. Most of him doesn’t blame her, but there’s a small part in the back of his mind that feels almost…betrayed. It takes two to end a friendship, after all. Noa didn’t exactly attempt to salvage the wreck they’d made.

“Well I think that went pretty well.” Arthur speaks up first in French, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his stomach. Charles looks over, trying to catch his eye. He must sense it, but his gaze remains turned away. Another beat of silence passes.

“She’s quieter.” Lorenzo says thoughtfully. He’s right too. It’s not just in the way that she doesn’t talk half as much as she used to, it’s something in her demeanour as well. There used to be a spark in Noa’s eye that Charles would look towards whenever he needed cheering up. Now when he searches for it, there’s layers upon layers shrouding the once happy memory. Like he’s peering through thick fog, trying to make out a landscape he’s long since forgotten.

“Je ne suis pas surpris.” I’m not surprised. Arthur muses. All eyes turn to him, Lorenzo frowning, Pascale already prepared to question what exactly he means by that. Charles thinks he knows. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious isn’t it?” the youngest of the Leclercs scoffs, sitting up from his relaxed position on the sofa. His eyes are dark, frustrated, perhaps even angry. “First he takes her chance at being offered a Formula 1 seat – with Ferrari, her dream team.” Arthur begins, jabbing a harsh finger in Charles’ direction. He winces, “Then her mother almost dies, and she has to give up her career just to be with her. She’s a Senna Borges. Racing is in her blood. And we all know how hard she worked, just to fall short at the final hurdle – not even through her own fault.” He takes a pause to breathe, eyes now blazing. Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale sit watching in some kind of fascinated horror. It’s rare to see Arthur so worked up. He’s always been the kind of person that can make light of any situation, no matter how grim. But there’s something about Noa and the cruel hand she’s been dealt in life lately that makes his blood boil.

“Now she’s finally made it to Formula 1, where she deserves to be, but she’s also stuck with the person who ruined that dream for her the first time around.” He goes on, turning now to Charles, “Look, I don’t care about what happened between you two. There’s nothing you can do to change it now. But Noa is like a sister to me, and as long as you both refuse to talk to each other, we’re never going to feel like a family to her again. Like we used to.” Arthur speaks, almost alarmingly softly, his jaw clenched hard, “For once just stop being so selfish and look at this from someone else’s perspective. Preferably hers. You know you owe it to her after –“

“Arthur!” Pascale’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere like a knife, silencing her youngest son immediately, “Do not call your brother selfish. You don’t understand the full story – none of us do.”

That seems to bring him back to his senses. Everything falls silent, but also on the brink of chaos, teetering on a knife edge. Nobody except Lorenzo notices the faint tremor in Pascale’s hand, which he tries to quell by rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. Charles is sat, rigid back, white knuckles, in the arm chair, glaring at Arthur from across the room. Meanwhile the aforementioned blinks as if he’s just awakened from a trance.

"Je suis désolé." I’m sorry. He murmurs, “I don’t know what –“

“Maman’s right.” Charles cuts him off tersely, “You don’t know the full story. You don’t know the things I said to her that night, or the things she said to me…” he trails off, breathing shakily even at the memory of it, “But you’re also right. I took the opportunity of a lifetime from her. She has every right to be angry at me, every right to hate me. That’s why I’m trying to make this right – and believe me, Arthur, I am trying. It’s just…it’s hard.” Charles’ gaze drops to the ground, almost shamefully, “So much has changed.”

Guilt is the most overwhelming part of this whole mess. Even though much of the misfortune that Noa has endured in the past two years has been entirely unrelated to him, he still can’t help but feel partly responsible. Perhaps it was his actions, something at the time he considered to be a mercy, that began the snowball effect. Perhaps if he’d never accepted Ferrari’s call, even though he so desperately wanted it, everything would be as perfect as he remembers. There’s so much uncertainty it’s impossible to predict. But Charles knows, at least from his side of the story, ever since the moment Noa walked out of his life, it’s gradually been growing duller and duller and duller. In a sick sort of way, he half hopes it has been the same for her.

“You do know she could never hate you, right?” Arthur speaks up softly. Charles’ gaze lifts from the ground, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively, “Mon dieu you’re both so stubborn.” He laughs humourlessly, shaking his head, “Noa may act like she can’t even look at you right now, but I know her just as well as you do. Maybe even better now, if you can’t see it.” He arches an eyebrow, “She’s hurting, Charles. You know what she does when she’s hurting? She pushes the people she cares about the most away.”

Winter break, 2014, Charles thinks. Of course. How could he forget?

“I’m just saying,” Arthur goes on, “If you mess this up any more than you already have, then she will end up hating you. But I can see it. Right now, she doesn’t. Not even close.”

Later, Pascale says something to him of the same effect. Hurt can fester. There are only two ways that things can go from here, with them both being kept so close to each other for the first time in so long. Either it brings them closer together – they work through their differences, overcome the mountains that stand in their way, and emerge on the other side even stronger because of it. Or, they’ll push each other away.

“I know what I would do if I were you.” Pascale tells him solemnly, “But you two need to figure this out on your own.”

It’s easy to say that, Charles thinks, when you haven’t made the mistakes they’ve both made. It’s so easy to imagine himself explaining how he thought he’d be protecting her by not telling her Ferrari had approached him. In his mind, she’ll listen and understand, and everything will go back to the way it used to be. But every time he runs the words he might say to her through his mind, he draws a blank. What mere words can salvage the ruins of a near decade-long friendship? What words can do justice the longing he feels to have her back in his life, not just as a distant memory, a relative stranger, but as his best friend. And even if he could find the words, there’s no guarantee Noa will even listen to them. Despite everything, she seems set on keeping her distance. Maybe Charles doesn’t blame her. Or maybe he wishes she’d fight a little harder.

taglist: @harrysdimple05 @ricciardosheart @azxulaa @cxcewg @dakotali @hopingforpeace @flowerchild-69 @destourtereaux @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul @luckyladycreator2 @roseamongthorns13 @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19 @lordperceval-16 @sainzluvrr

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smolwritingchick · 2 months

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Smol Oneshot: First Fight

Author's Note: Well since I'm on my computer, I'll share this old thing I wrote years ago from my documents. I am still trying to figure out what I want Jennie (OC) and Jungkook's first fight as a couple to be. But it will happen in 2017. I do plan to put this in my story. I may add on and modify it as well. Let this hold you! :)

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The members selected to go bowling and Jungkook decided to join. But while there, he was scowling the whole time and watched the game instead of joining like he would normally do. Adjusting the black cap on his head, he angrily glanced at Namjoon and Angelina, who were acting all mushy together.

The Golden Maknae rolled his eyes. This was a bad idea. Why did he come here? This would only make him madder since he didn’t have his girl with him. It irked him to see happy couples around. He glanced at the empty seat next to him. That seat was supposed to be for Jennie. But a few days ago, they had their first fight as a couple.

Jungkook was frustrated. This was his first serious relationship and he didn’t know how to handle the situation. Some things were said, and things got heated during their argument. But despite all of that, he still loved her dearly and lowkey wished that she would apologize first so they could move on. Jennie probably felt the same way, hoping he would apologize since they both were as stubborn as ever. Jennie had a mouth when she got upset. She remained firm and voiced her opinion until she said what she had to say in their argument. She wasn’t one to back down so easily. She tried her best not to lash out and had trouble keeping her mouth shut but he kept pushing her buttons. And she kept pushing his.

Were relationships always this hard?

You feel like everything is perfect but after one fight, you feel like your world is crashing down and things may come to an end.

Do all couples deal with fights like this?

How do couples overcome issues like this?

Were they freaking out over nothing and things will be back the way they were soon?

Sure, they bicker from time to time and have disagreements but it was never this bad. The day after their fight, the members noticed the tension, right away. The 95 Liners freaked out, worried to death when they didn’t see JenKook together. It startled everyone to see that they hadn’t said a word to one another. Their managers and Bang PD were even concerned.

JenKook began to ignore each other, keeping their distance. But over time, the members would regard the couple stealing glances at one another, unmistakably indicating that they missed each other. All Jungkook wanted to do was hold and kiss her but he assumed that she was still mad at him.

Having enough, Jungkook snapped at Angelina and Namjoon after seeing them kiss. “Can you two stop kissing in front of me like that!? I didn’t come here for a friggin’ show!”

His sudden shout prompted the members to stare at him, startled. The Golden Maknae immediately got scolded by a few of his hyungs for how he was acting.

“Unnecessary! Apologize, right now! That was so rude of you," Jin said with a disappointed look.

Angelina frowned, understanding what he had said in Korean. It was clear that Jungkook was hurting. She knew he didn’t mean it. He just wanted Jennie, and she was damn sure that Jennie was hurting as well and wanted him, too.

She thought about their conversation earlier today.

------

“Are you seriously not going to bowl with us? So, what are you gonna do? Stay in the hotel all day? Girl, if you don’t join us.” Angelina exclaimed, crossing her arms in front of Jennie who was seated on her bed.

“I just don’t want to go. I don’t feel like bowling, okay?” she responded.

“Is this because of your boyfriend?”

From the look on Jen’s face, she was right.

Jennie didn’t want to upset Jungkook even more, so she decided to give him space until they cooled down. Seeing him so upset during that fight broke her heart and Jungkook felt the same, seeing her so upset with him.

Jen admitted that she was scared. This was their first big fight and she was wondering how they would recover from this. She did not want to give up on him and she refused to allow her relationship with him to end over a fight.

As time went on, all she wanted to do was hug and show him how much he meant to her but she still stayed away, assuming that he didn’t want to speak with her anytime soon.

“I seriously think that you two need to be locked in a bedroom, together. Nothing like love and physical affection after you two finally decide to talk it out~.” Angelina teased, hoping to get some type of reaction out of her but it didn’t work. “Okay, but seriously. You two should really talk it out.”

Angelina also reminded Jennie that she felt the same. She felt frustrated and furious with Namjoon but Jen had helped her when they had their first fight.

“I was this close to breaking up with Namjoon. But who talked some sense into me and gave me advice? You. You gave me a long ass pep talk and you told me that communication is key. Remember? This time, follow your own advice. Communicate with your man. Things will be OK.”

-------

Jungkook stood up and grumbled. “I’m leaving...”

Watching him storm off, Namjoon sighed and rubbed his temples while Hobi said, “I did not think it was this bad.”

“All right, we are fixing this ASAP! Jimin and I did not spend months trying to get Jennie and Jungkook together only for it to end over a bad fight. We gotta do something!” Taehyung suggested.

“Yeah! My heart is aching over this! This is not supposed to happen!” Jimin whined.

And they did as the members forced JenKook to go out to dinner with them the next evening. No matter what excuse they made, everyone made sure to drag them to dinner. It was so weird to not have JenKook drive everyone crazy with their goofy antics and not seeing them so close. Things needed to go back to normal.

Being sly at dinner, Taehyung and Jimin, made the couple sit across from each other at the table. Everyone watched their every move, noticing the accidental touches when they were getting food. Throughout the night, the Golden Couple would unintentionally brush their feet and legs against one another. The endless staring and averting of their eyes also amused the members.

“I saw that.” Jimin sipped his drink.

“I did too,” Hobi murmured.

“Mm-Hm,” Taehyung added.

After dinner, the members went roller skating to pass the time. Jen was glad that she went because it was hilarious to see everyone falling on their asses and bumping into people. It had been a while since she went roller skating, and as she skated around, she ended up losing her balance and prepared for the worst.

Abruptly, her Golden Boyfriend came to her rescue, catching her just in time. It was like he had been watching her, making sure she was safe ever since she put her skates on. Feeling his warm hands on her skin, gave her that strong urge to hug him as he helped her balance and stand on her feet.

His eyes showed concern and tenderness as he murmured, “You all right?”

After she told him she was fine, he went on to skate ahead and she realized how much she missed him. She finally decided that she was going to pull him aside and ask to talk about their fight in private after they were done skating. No more being stubborn about this.

Minutes later, it was Jungkook that had fallen on the floor thanks to Hobi accidentally bumping into him. Seeing a pair of skates by his legs, Jungkook looked up to see Jennie extending her hand. It seemed like she was trying not to laugh at how “gracefully” he fell. That smile she was fighting warmed his heart as he took her hand.

After helping him up, she said, “Be careful,” before skating away.

Once she was done skating, Jen exchanged her skates for her shoes, thinking of how she should approach Jungkook. She then noticed that he was exchanging his skates as well when she turned in his direction.

“Babe, can we please talk?”

“Honey, can we please talk?”

They both said simultaneously. Hearing them use one of their names for each other made their hearts flutter. It was moments like that where they could never remain mad at each other.

“I guess we were both thinking the same thing.” he smiled softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wanted to speak with you privately about our fight. We should sit down and talk about it.”

“Yeah. Let’s walk back to the hotel to talk. Get away from the public.” he gently grabbed her hand, walking her outside.

What they both wanted to do was sit down, talk about the argument, resolve it, and move on so they could be happy again. It seemed like they were about to move in the right direction to make up.

“Hey, look! They’re leaving together!” Taehyung happily announced.

Jimin, getting so excited while skating and watching them leave, smacked himself against the wall and fell. Loud laughter was heard from the members as they teased him. After pulling themselves together, they sat down, discussing JenKook.

“Finally talking like adults. About time.” Angelina sighed out of relief.

“Should we head back, too? Should we really leave them alone like that? Don’t you think we should make sure they’re fine?” Jin suggested.

“No way!” Taehyung exclaimed. “We’re staying here!”

“Nah, leave them alone,” Yoongi responded.

“They’re fine and besides those kids need some serious alone time,” Namjoon added. “Let them get it all out of their systems and talk it out.”

The 95 Liners glanced at each other with knowing looks and giggled to themselves.

“Yeah, let them talk it out.” Taehyung went on, nudging Jimin.

“Yeah, talk,” Jimin responded sarcastically with an amused look.

#smol oneshot #smol drabble #jungkook fluff #smol ideas #smolwritingchick #the bangtan gal #jungkook x black oc

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unculturedmamoswine · 3 months

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Fiddauthor Recs

Ya want a Fiddauthor rec list??? You got it. This is just some fiddauthor I have in my bookmarks, in no particular order. I’m not adding warnings, so pay attention to the tags and such. If a fic is a WIP, I’ll let you know. And please DO add your own recs in comments or reblogs, especially if you know of fics that aren’t on AO3!

If you read these fics, please consider leaving kudos and comments for the authors!

We’re Still Here by hellmandraws

Not fic, but a fan comic starting with college fiddauthor and going all the way through post-series. So great and really worth a read!

rumination: a guided tour by gesso (1.9k words)

Author’s summary: For all the words, expressions, languages he knows; for all the intelligence, experience -- sometimes it's just easier to show, rather than tell. And maybe that means using the mindscape to just pull up very specific memories in a certain order. Because Stanford Pines would much rather take the most convoluted route possible, especially if that means he can avoid plainly talking about his emotions (past and present). [Unlike the other drabbles in this series, this is not complete, and cuts off kind of abruptly at the end of the draft I have]

This fic is sooo worth a read. Technically a WIP, but don’t let that dissuade you.

Somnus Idigus by Abyssalzones (2k words)

Author’s summary: It's hard to sleep, still, nearly a full year after Bill's defeat. Ford manages to be coaxed to bed by kind words and gentle hands, and wonders just what he did to deserve this kind of understanding. (AKA: Ford has nightmares, keeps trying to put off sleep, Fiddleford manages to lovingly wrangle him to bed.)

Sooo sweet! The exact kind of post-canon snuggly Fiddauthor fic I need in this world!

Intricate Rituals by HazelnutofFortune (1.5k words)

Author’s summary: “Fiddleford,” Ford says. He hates asking for help.

“Mmm?” Fiddleford asks, looking up, scalpel still raised.

“ Um, could you show me how to get at that big clump next to the Aorta?” How humiliating. Why did he even ask. Except-

“Well, sure,” Fiddleford sets down the heart and takes Ford’s a little gingerly. My heart is in his hands, Ford thinks. Fuck.

Extremely cute! A WIP! College Fiddauthor and Ford is soooo smitten.

Jersey Boy by Fordtato (110k words)

Author’s summary: Ford does not want to be at Backupsmore University. He should be in California, at West Coast Tech, showing the world that he's more than a freakish waste of space from Jersey; showing the world that he's more than the scrawny, brainy half of a dynamic duo. He's angry, sure, and he's sure-as-fuck tired of being just one-of-two-Stans.

But who isn't angry right now? The world is in turmoil, they're sending our boys to Vietnam and if it wasn't for this stupid school, Ford would have probably been sucked into the draft himself.

But then he meets Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and everything is different now.

A slowburny fic that really digs into the historical side of college Fiddauthor. It doesn’t shrink away from the tougher, uglier stuff that being a poor, gay, Jewish college student in the seventies would mean for someone. Features an angry, confused Ford who is having a Hard Time. Also has a whole host of interesting OCs! Also a WIP. This fic takes a turn or two that I really didn’t expect and I’m very excited to see where it goes, as the author is on record saying that they WILL finish it.

if you love me, come clean by Athgalla (105k words)

Author’s summary: This is pretty much just a collection of various moments and possible events throughout Fiddleford and Stanford's relationship that I felt like exploring, starting with their first proper meeting in college on to post-Weirdmageddon events.

Without further ado, on to the tragically star-crossed nerds!

iylmcc spans Ford and Fidds’s first meeting through post-series. It’s so interesting, and so sweet, and has so many wonderful details! Just a great take on their relationship that you deserve to read, dear reader. Treat yourself!

Maybe It’s Not Too Late by GinAndShatteredDreams (main fic is 82k words, whole series is 110k)

Author’s summary of the main fic: Overall: A post-weirdmageddon asexual Fiddauthor fic in which revelations occur, a confession goes awry, some unfinished business reemerges in the form of a raging pterodactyl, and chaos ensues. (vaguely romantic - hugs/hand holding/cuddling/comfort, no kisses - just adding that so I don't disappoint anyone who's hoping for it - or maybe for the sake of people (like me) who sometimes like to read something without ;))

(Edit - No romantic kisses. There's a forehead kiss between family members at one point.)

*It would probably be good to mention that most of this was written before the journal came out and even after, I tried to keep true to the ideas formed before reading it with one exception that is noted later.

So as you can tell, I linked you the whole series. A both super angsty and very sweet fic with wonderful asexual post-series Fiddauthor! I’ve never read anything quite like it, totally check it out.

Romance is Overrated and Living Confusing by 3HobbitsInATrenchcoat (25k words)

Author’s summary: Stanford and Fiddleford started out as college roommates and over the years grew into something more than friends but just to the side of what others would consider a "normal relationship." But honestly, is it really anyone's business what they are as long as they care deeply for each other?

Scenes from Stanford's life as he tries to figure out where he fits in a world built for romance and traditional family dynamics.

This fic is restricted– you need an AO3 account to read it. Also, it’s part of a series, but the other fic is Stan-centric so it’s not a part of this rec list. Aaaand also it’s a WIP. Okay, with that out of the way, this is another Ace!Fiddauthor fic, which you know I’m all about! This fic is more about college and research-aged Fiddauthor, and it’s as delightfully fraught as you could hope. The author also does a cool thing regarding Fiddleford’s time in Oregon, while still keeping it canon-compliant. My hat is off to them.

To Struggle For Dreams And To Hunger For More by Voidfish (8k words)

Author’s summary: “Am I gay?” Ford reads the quiz out loud, before clicking to begin. To his frustration, most of the questions are simply asking him if he has had sex with men (he hasn’t), if he wants to (he isn’t quite sure), or if he ever will (the jury is still out). Nothing defines attraction, no one clarifies if the burn in his stomach is love or gastrointestinal issues, and nothing leaves him feeling any better on the subject.

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Stanford Pines has never loved a woman but, he realizes with a painful jolt, he can’t say with certainty he’s never loved a man.

Aaaaaa I love this fic. I love it sooo much. Post-series and Ford is trying to figure out his sexuality and his feelings for Fidds. Plus a scene where he comes out to Stan! Just a delight.

And Shifty Makes Three by Sarelle (13k words)

Author’s summary: Ford Pines and Fiddleford McGucket deal with the ups and downs of relationships and parenthood in 1970s Oregon. A task not much aided by the fact they have to keep secret the true identity of their shapeshifting alien grub son, from friends, family and the Feds.

Based on WDW's Shiftyverse, can be read as a standalone.

I fucking LOVE this fic!! Aaaaa the little details about Ford and Fidds and their relationship! Their alien son!! This fic is so up my alley it’s bonkers.

queer clan in the middle of the woods by toosolidcuuj (series is 23k words)

Author’s summary of the series: *to the tune of "our house" by madness* queer clan in the middle of the woods, queer clan in the middle of the

Canon-divergent AU in which Stan and Ford make up, adopt an alien, and gradually amass an extended queer family.

This is ALSO a Shifty-adopting fic! With Fiddauthor! This one also has Stan, and focuses a lot on Stan and Ford fixing up their fraternal relationship in addition to the Fiddauthory bits. I haven’t reread it in a hot second but I remember it being very fun but also taking Shifty’s trauma quite seriously, which I thought was interesting and cool to read.

(There's a) Half moon rising in southeastern skies by orphan_account (17k words)

Author’s summary: A series of memories, all compiled in convenient cinema-reel format. It’s all here, folks, the good, the bad, the sexy, the emotionally distressing. Next to nothing left out.

Sad that this fic was orphaned– I love it. It’s in second person, and I’m all about that! Fiddleford looking back at his fractured memories post-series and also reconnecting with Ford. Absolutely wonderful characterization. Author, if you’re out there, I love this fic!! I hope you are happy with it in your heart!!

Syncing Phases by toosolidcuuj (5k words)

Author’s summary: Stan has gone his whole life never imagining he had a twin, let alone an android twin who can shoot cannons out his hands, makes money appear out of thin air, and has a close relationship with a werewolf named Fiddleford McGucket. Even more surprisingly, FORD needs Stan's help erasing a world-ending computer virus. But BILL has allies in many places, leaving the Stans uncertain who they can trust.

WIP. This fic is SUCH a fun and interesting concept!! Only child!Stan, Werewolf!Fidds, Robot!Ford??? Yes, please! A totally unique fic that is so fun to read!

#fiddauthor #fic rec #gravity falls #my post

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bebepac · 7 months

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Six Sentence Sunday 09.17.23

I fell into the AI picture generating app, and here are some of the things I came up with since I haven't been able to write at all. At least... I'm still thinking about this story.

Original Post: 09/17/23 at 10:02PM EST.

One day... I will finish this story. Until that day I'm going to keep trying.

So for now, you guys get another little snippet from it. with more AI pictures.

Chapter 17: The Wedding

The Series: The Rotten Apple🍎

The Book: TRH and beyond

Pairings: Eleanor x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC)

Status: Still in the writing process (as it has been for the last 85 years)

Nico stopped reading for a second, glancing up, he thought he had heard something but now all he heard was silence, and resumed reading his book.

Hearing the sound again he approached the window. There stood Elle in the grass throwing pebbles at his window.

“Elle what are you doing? We promised we would not see each other until the ceremony tomorrow.”

“And we have 30 minutes before the 12 hour mark before our wedding. Come with me Nico.”

“Ana….”

“Ana is sleeping, she’ll be fine. We won’t be gone long I promise. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Nico quickly put on his shoes and met Elle outside.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

The pair wound up at the garden overlooking the ocean where their wedding would be held tomorrow afternoon. The area had already been prepped, and the gazebo where they would take their vows had already been painted.

“A little more than twelve hours from now, we’ll be standing here taking vows, pledging our lives to each other. I wrote my vows.”

“I did too Elle, we agreed to do that.”

“You don’t understand. I wrote two sets.”

“Why?”

“Because these are the vows you really deserve to hear, that I am too much of a coward to say in front of our whole world.”

“Elle…..”

“Please… let me do this. I need to do this.”

Together the pair stood as they would be tomorrow, for their ceremony. Elle looked Nico in the eyes and began to speak her truth.

“Nico, I was a terrible person, a horrible human being. I was manipulative, conniving, and I hurt you in the worst way possible. I took someone very precious away from you.”

Nico’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Elle stop…”

“Please… let me finish.”

“Words can’t say how sorry I am for what I did to you, and all the pain and hurt I inflicted on your life. And somehow in spite of that, you still have love in your heart for me, you raised our daughter in a house full of love for years without me, and you had every opportunity to poison her mind about me, and you didn’t do that. You are a good man Nico, a great man that at times I feel like I don’t deserve, for your unconditional love. Very few people in my life have ever shown me that.”

#bebepac writes #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc sunday six #six sentence sunday #always more than six #the rotten apple #elle x nico #trr fanfic #trr fandom

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raparopa · 1 year

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a/n: @mischiefmanaged71 @crazyhorseforgot

warnings: Language, Squaller!OC

pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x OC!Dasha Romanov

summary: There is clearly an understatement between Nikolai and his childhood friend. But who knew that things could get even worse when the sun shines on the horizon?

gold and silver

part one. about meetings

I looked at the stars. Silver jewels scattered over the blue velvet of the night sky - this was the sky above the sea, in which I spent almost all my time. And yet, accepting Nikolai's invitation was one of the best decisions of my life.

I have found a new family. Tolya and Tamar turned out to be some of the most incredible people I have ever met. Such a connection was for me...not new... The fact is that I myself experience such a connection, the only thing I do not know for one hundred percent is whether it is mutual.

During the time spent side by side on the ship, next to Sturmhond, I realized that I love Nikolai. And every day this feeling only intensified. I looked at him and tried to figure out if his feelings were similar to mine, or if Nikolai was acting like a little stinging fox as usual. But there was something in his actions, looks, words that made me suspect that we had a good chance.

We became much closer than in our youth, we were two parts of one whole, we were those who cannot live without each other. We never said anything that could indicate our feelings for each other. I don't know if it was necessary at this time? I did not want to destroy that wonderful peace between me and Nikolai, which we have been building and restoring for many years, and now we support it.

Each time, Tamar said with a cheerful smile how Nikolai's heart was beating, as soon as he thought of me. But how was I to know if she was joking or not? You can't tell these twins.

A cool sea breeze blew into my face. I smiled, twisting it with my fingers into a small whirlwind and letting it float through the water. But from the other side of the ship there were conversations. And several voices were clearly unfamiliar to me. I frowned and pushed off the deck with my hands, striding confidently there to understand what was happening. I don’t know what was going on, but my gut told me that something was going on that I obviously didn’t like. Because of this, the wind increased, rose, crashing into the sails.

I went to the other side of the deck and saw Tolya, Tamar and two strangers at the gangway. One of them was a tall, strong guy, next to him was a short girl with long, black hair. They talked about something very tensely.

-What's going on?-I shouted to be heard. All pairs of eyes immediately stared at me and at my menacing face.

-Dasha!- Tolya greeted joyfully, waving his hand to me. -We have unexpected passengers here,-he pointed to a couple of strangers.

-Yes, they want to charter our ship,- Tamar continued, showing me a gold hairpin that sparkled in the moonlight. -We need to take them to the captain. How is he? In what mood? - She smiled strangely at me.

I was embarrassed, but did not show it, only raising my eyebrows.

-As usual, in good health,-I said, folding my arms over my chest and carefully looking at the strangers. -Good, -I nodded. -Tolya?

He nodded to me.

-Take them to the captain.

It seemed to me that the issue was resolved, but then soldiers of the First Army appeared from the darkness.

-You! Stop!- the old man in military uniform croaked.

- Do you want a fight? Huh?-Tamar said menacingly, pulling out her axe.

-This man is a deserter, he must be with us!- the old man continued.

-Is that so?- Tamar continued caustically. I rolled my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose. -They want a fight!- she roared, causing everyone who was carrying bags on deck to grab their weapons.

-Oh, Saints, help me...- I said to myself, mentally dreaming how I would conduct a conversation with them, and how I would ask Nikolai to give them a couple of diplomacy lessons.

-I don't want to aggravate the conflict with Shu Han...

It was a mistake. Mistake old man in uniform. Tolya took up the sword.

-We are not Shu Han,-Yul-Bataar said, approaching his sister. -We are on our own.

-Save your bullets for the war, and tell your soldiers to know their place.- I barked belligerently, stepping onto the gangplank. I was rather tired of this situation, and I wanted to exhale as soon as possible and calmly sail away. Both my words and my old caftan, with which I did not dare to part after the Second Army, were clearly a weighty argument. Ravka's soldiers retreated.

Strangers boarded.

They looked rumpled, but they were very smart. I slowly examined them from head to toe, trying to isolate at least something that could help me find out more information about them, but I did not find anything strange or unusual.

-We’ll go to the captain,- I said slowly and low, when Tolya and Tamar appeared behind me. - He will give his final verdict.

The guy jerked his shoulder in annoyance, glaring at me angrily, but I didn't care.

-Let's go. -I passed by, heading straight into the hall to Nikolai.

I physically felt the tension that was in the air. No one dared to utter a word, I think the twins and I looked menacing, so the strangers were silent.

Nobody ever tried to charter our ship, it was the first time, but it was...interesting.

We approached the doors when Tolya opened them.

-Captain,- he turned to Nikolai, going inside. -They want to charter our ship.

- And immediately. - Some unprecedented courage suddenly woke up in the boy. We were also in the room.

-We need to sail now!- the girl also flushed, stubbornly following her companion.

Nikolai chuckled.

-Let's get two things straight,- he braced his hands on the table. -I'm not given orders on my own ship.- His face immediately became tense.

It was always amazing how he switched from one state to another so quickly.

- And we're already sailing. Glad you joined. And now, maybe add some light to the cabin, - I frowned, not understanding what he was talking about. - Since you, Alina Starkov. Saint on twenty million kruge.

These words hung in the air like a thick fog. My face stretched in surprise, I felt something rising in my stomach. That was the last thing I expected to hear tonight, I would have been prepared for anything but this. I looked first at Alina, then at her companion, and in the end my eyes fixed on Nikolai, as if demanding an answer from him.

How did he know? How does he know the price for this girl? Why didn't he say anything to me... That is, to us.

Lantsov quickly shot his eyes in my direction, and again turned to the newcomers. He pulled a revolver out of its holster and placed it meaningfully on the table.

-Alive or dead.- His voice became low and almost menacing as she looked at Alina.

What the hell...

-It’s silly to play up, Starkov, you are a Sun Summoner,-Nikolai continued.

In surprise, I even had to lean my hand against the wall as thoughts raced feverishly through my aching head. I looked at Tolya, but judging by his expression, he was also, to put it mildly, shocked. We both stood with him, behind Alina Starkov's back, like fools, the only ones who didn't understand what the hell was going on.

-Yes, you are right,- Alina threw belligerently, throwing up her hands, from which light immediately escaped.

Nikolai whistled.

-Not bad,- he shook his head, with a meaningful smile. - I'm hard to impress.

But Sun Summoner clearly did not share Nikolai's fun.

-Let us go,- she hissed, -Or lose twenty million kruge and the ship. Her threats looked a little funny. No matter how saintly Alina was, she did not seem to me an experienced fighter, rather a chaotic bundle of energy.

The light burned in Alina's hands, like a real, living flame of light. I myself did not understand how I took a step forward, how my fingers froze in signs that they could summon a hurricane. But I was gently pulled by the shoulder.

-Don’t, Dasha,- Tolya whispered to me. -Don’t jump to conclusions, Romanov. We can always get into a fight. Where is your diplomacy?

I glared at him, reluctantly admitting that he was right.

-Let you,- Nikolai got up from his chair at the table. -You can sentence us to death in the sea desert,- he went to the table, pouring some amber alcohol into a crystal glass. - Please note that we are already far from the shore. Besides, I won't hand you over to the Fjordans.

-Really? -Alina immediately stopped releasing light from her palms.

-Yes, Saints forbid,- Nikolai simply threw, realizing in a moment that he had blurted out. -Or is it indecent to say this in front of a living saint?- He turned to me in a rhetorical question. I tilted my head, pursing my lips.

They continued talking, but the words slipped past me. The only thing I heard was Nikolai's cute tone when he spoke to Alina. I still tried furiously to grab at least one word of their conversation, but I couldn't. For some reason, I felt betrayed. Did Nikolai not trust me so much that he could not devote to his ingenious plan to "capture" the Sun Summoner? Am I not the kind of person he can share everything with? He knows that I will always be by his side.

I looked at Nicholai. I felt offended. I felt selfish. Why was my chest so empty? Why, as soon as Alina Starkov stepped on board, did it hurt so much?

Maybe I did something wrong, since Nikolai no longer trusts me? Did I say something that made him doubt me?

Someone touched my shoulder, and only then did I wake up.

Tolya looked at me with regret, nodding in the direction of the exit. Of course, damn it, he heard my heart. I quickly gathered myself together, gave him a forced smile and nodded, following him and our "guests" to show them their sleeping quarters.

-No, no, no,- we were all immediately interrupted by the voice of Nikolai. We turned to look at him at once. - You, - he pointed to me. - Dasha, stay for a minute. -he asked, trying not to smile.

Tolya smiled slyly at me and led the passengers out of the cabin. I carefully closed the door, turning to look at him.

- Nikolai. - I said evenly, straightening my back, and folding my hands behind my back, raising my eyes with an effort to look at him...

He finally allowed himself a wide smile as he walked up to me, taking my hand and leading me forward through the cabin.

- Nikolai, if you want to talk, then speak. - Sharper than you wanted, I said.

-What's the matter?- he asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling charmingly, the way he always did when he wanted to get something.

I exhaled heavily, disengaging from his grip and rubbing my wrists.

This gesture obviously did not please him. He stopped smiling.

- Dasha, what happened? Any problems?

I looked at him from under my brows.

-Well,- I began hard. -Tell me, Nikolai, do you trust me?- I decided to come from afar.

He opened his eyes in surprise.

-Of course I trust you. More than anyone, you know it дорогая. Ever since you didn't tell your nanny my name as a kid when she asked about the stolen cakes. -he said, grabbing my hand again. Those words made me smile faintly.

-Remember that?- he chuckled. -I remember well how you…

-...Saved your ass for the first time? Yes, such things are not forgotten, Nikolai. - I continued for him, forcing the prince to roll his eyes jokingly. -But... It's different. Why didn't you tell me about Alina Starkov? - I finally asked. -Do you think, - I swallowed a lump in my throat from the weight of my own words. - Do you think that I cannot help you? It was possible to devote, at least in general, to your incredible plan. - I turned up my nose.

Nicholai sighed softly.

-Everything had to be as natural as possible. No one should have suspected anything, Alina Starkov in particular. No, of course, I don’t doubt your acting skills, Romanov, but I already walked on the edge of a knife.- He said as his hands let go of my palms, gently wrapping around my waist. - I didn't know it would hurt you so much. I didn't think about your feelings, my mistake.

He shook her head. - Excuse me. - He looked into my eyes, and some mischievous sparks sparkled in his eyes. - Can you forgive me?- he smiled.

I closed my eyes.

-Promise to continue to share such things with me, Nikolai.- I asked quietly, blowing off the hair that had fallen on my face.

-I promise if you let me offer you a worthy apology. -He ran his fingers along my cheek.

Saints. Are my assumptions correct? Could it be that the connection I felt was shared by Nikolai?

-Watching what you mean? -Oh, dear Nikolai, don't think that I'll give you up so easily. - Everyone can say big words.

If I don't drive you crazy, Nikolai Lantsov, no one can do it.

#shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone season two #nikolai lantsov x oc #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #mal oretsev #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar

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rrenzwrld · 2 years

Text

mama’s baby, daddy’s maybe

connie x black!oc

he’s a basketball player w a baby by his best friend that he doesn’t know about

don’t mind me.. just publishing scraps n shit from my notes :)

“Imagine carrying that child for nine months, in labor for four hours, and taking care of her for two years.. Just for her to come out lookin like her goofy ass daddy.” Layla said as she watched Celest’s attention being completely drawn towards the basketball game that was on tv.

“Yeah but she’s a good baby. She doesn’t cause much trouble.” I smiled. Although Celest was a fairly calm child, she still tended to behave like most toddlers. She had her moments where she’d get into things and wail out every now and then, but she was fairly easy to calm down.

“Does she look at tv like that all the time?”

“Yeah. But only if the game’s playing,”

“Springer, from downtown!” The commentator announced. I felt this weird feeling in my heart that I didn’t know how to describe.

“It’s been two years, Chy. You gotta tell him.”

“Do I?” I didn’t bother looking her in the face. My eyes stayed on my daughter as she giggled and clapped at something she didn’t understand.

“Uh, yeah? You’re really gonna rob that baby of a chance to have a father in her life? And do you not remember how close yall used to be?” Layla was telling me things that were true but I didn’t want to face her words. I knew it was wrong to keep Connie from his child but I was also scared. Scared that it wouldn’t work out, scared that I wouldn’t get the happy ending I wanted for me and Celest like I dreamed. Connie and I were close, very close. He was my best friend, essentially. I loved him. I loved him so much that I was willing to cross the line without thinking of the consequences, and now I’m here.

“If you’re worried about him denying her, he couldn’t even if he tried.” Celest had the same bright hazel eyes that shined golden in the sun, just like Connie’s. Celest couldn’t ever be serious. She laughed at almost any and everything that she wasn’t focused on. Just like Connie. There were so many similarities that I acknowledged, Layla was right. He couldn’t deny her even if he wanted.

“Okay let’s say I want him to meet her. How would I go about that? Are you not thinking about him being a whole NBA player and having a reputation to uphold? I’m probably the last thing he thinks about..” As much as it hurt, it was probably the truth. He had been dreaming of playing basketball professionally since elementary school. Who was I to mess that up for him?

“Girl you have connections! Ask Armin to hook you up with some tickets.”

“Do you know how much those tickets cost? I’d have to give up my whole paycheck to pay him back.” Layla rolled her eyes.

“You know Armin is not like that. He’d probably make up something to get you and Celest into the game for free. And front row seats.”

“I thought front row seats were for celebrities..”

“They’re for people who pay. Anyone can sit front row. Just make sure you don’t get hit.” I was really contemplating on doing this. Could this really be my chance?

“Layla, I don’t know…”

“Aww you’re nervous~” She teased.

“What if it’s awkward? What if he’s too busy to even see us after the game? What if there’s paparazzi and-“

“Okay now you’re overthinking. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just call Armin and let him know what you’re gonna do. If you don’t, I will.” I looked down into my lap. There’s no way this would actually work out, right?

“I guess..” I noticed Celest had gotten quiet so I walked over to the couch to see her fast asleep, her little basketball plush in her arms.

“She’s sleep?” Layla asked as I carefully picked up the baby, holding her to my chest. I nodded slowly.

“I’m gonna put her down. Don’t do no funny shit.” I warned. She smiled goofily in response. Knowing her, the gears were winding in her brain and she had something up her sleeve. I just didn’t wanna know what it was.

#aot #aot x oc #black reader #aot x black reader #connie #aot connie #connie springer #nba #basketball au #parents

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excelsi-or · 7 months

Text

summoned (pt. 5)

I saw this quote recently that said, "Stop thinking too much, you're breaking your own heart." Feel like I've been doing it a lot the last little while and this made me feel a bit better. Feel like the productivity wheel is always trying to make me feel like I need to fix my whole life. Working on not doing that lol.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 2.5k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“What did you see exactly?” Jihoon asks, squatting on the other side of the coffee table.

She, Hansol, Seokmin, and Jihoon are back at her apartment.

Despite being well past midnight, Hansol insisted on coming along. Luckily, Seungkwan was asleep by then and couldn’t ask questions.

“What did you see?” Hansol prompts. “All I got was the smell.”

“Bodies. There are bodies in that building,” she states.

As soon as they got into her apartment, she’d collapsed on the couch. Seokmin quickly began rectifying the situation, wrapping her in a blanket, bringing her tea, even going so far as to heal the burn on her hand. Not that she seemed to notice any of it.

He’d propped her upright on the couch, but even so, she tilted her head back with closed eyes. Jihoon thought she’d died.

“You just said bodies,” Hansol repeats.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

Jihoon’s brow furrows and Seokmin is starting to look angry.

“Why are there bodies in there?” Seokmin demands. The two humans glance up at Seokmin, whose eyes are on Jihoon. It’s a tone they’ve never heard from him in the years they’ve known him. “You said that it was about possession.”

“I am also not in on this new plan they’re concocting,” Jihoon argues. “Angels always get so worked up before they know the full picture.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Hansol asks, hand raised. He meets Seokmin’s eye. “You’re a what now?”

Seokmin motions towards himself and Jihoon. “Angel, demon. Other side of the same coin.”

“We are on two completely different coins,” Jihoon grumbles. He straightens and begins pacing. “I haven’t figured out why I’ve been left out of this one.”

“Yeah, don’t they love you down there?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re right, I do the bare minimum.”

Seokmin smirks. “You do love humans, that’s true.” The angel adjusts the blanket around her shoulders. “So, what do you propose we do?”

“We need to go back. I need to see it properly.” Jihoon looks to the human, whose eyes are slowly falling closed. “There was no one else there, right?”

“Not anyone alive that I noticed.”

The demon glances at the clock. Just after 3 AM. “We should be able to go now.”

Seokmin hums as he stands, ruffling her hair a bit. It always makes her smile; this time is no exception. “Your car then?”

Hansol frowns. “You have a car? So, why’d hyung have to drive?”

She rests a tired, affectionate hand over Hansol’s whole face. “I’ll explain everything I know.”

Jihoon heads towards the door. His eyes dart to the hallway table. “Am I required to take the key?”

“I already told you.” The human’s voice is exasperated but gentle. “I don’t like when you put magic over my door. I don’t need my soul taken. So, please, take the key. It’s on the table.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and plucks the key from the tray. “Got it.”

“He’ll be home by sunrise,” Seokmin calls.

The two unearthly beings hear Hansol’s last question as the door shuts behind them. “Who is this vampire boyfriend you’ve summoned?”

Seokmin chuckles. “Sollie’s not wrong. You sound like her boyfriend.”

Jihoon frowns, shaking his head. “I’m a demon, not a boyfriend.”

“You follow her around. You meet her friends. You take the key when she tells you to.” Seokmin shrugs his shoulders, his gaze upwards towards the spot where the wall and ceiling meet. “Sounds like a whipped boyfriend to me.”

Jihoon glances at the angel as he presses the call button for the elevator, not understanding ‘whipped’.

When Seokmin explains it, Jihoon likes the angel and Hansol even less. “Two of those things you mentioned were out of my control.”

“You didn’t have to take the key,” Seokmin snorts. When he blinks again, the demon's back into his usual black suit.

“It is much easier to get the human to do my bidding if she’s willing, do you not think?”

“And you like her.” Seokmin pushes the door open, holding it for Jihoon. They both take in the cool night air. “You like her more than any other human you’ve met.”

Jihoon chooses to ignore this last statement. When they’d stepped out of the elevator, his baby had been waiting patiently in front of the apartment. Practically skipping down the steps, Jihoon can’t help but smile at how shiny his baby is.

Seokmin waits for the demon to finish admiring the car before climbing into the passenger seat.

“I don’t like that you’re using her to get what you need by the way.” Seokmin pulls the seatbelt on. “You could have gone in there yourself. I also don’t like that you branded both her and Hansol.”

“I didn’t ‘brand’ anyone. I should have exorcised everyone in that room tonight, but I didn’t.” Jihoon shifts the car into drive and immediately speeds out of the parking space.

Seokmin frowns, gripping the door handle. “You think some of them could be possessed?”

“Being inside a human rather than having your own human body to step into are two different things.” Jihoon looks over at him, but Seokmin pushes his cheek back to face the road. He may not be able to die from a car accident, but it will still be painful. “You can sense me, right?”

“The wonderful black clouds that follow you around are easy to see.”

“Demons in human bodies that they’ve possessed don’t give off the same energy. If I struggle to tell them apart, you’re less likely to be able to. But they can sense us.”

Seokmin processes that information. All it does is send an uncomfortable chill down his spine. “So, how long are we thinking they’ve been doing this?” he asks, trying to get comfortable even though his wings keep trying to sprout and get him to safety. “Should I be rallying the troops?”

“Rallying your troops means calling the angels down, having the Final Day.” Jihoon waves his hand dismissively. “We’re not doing that.”

Seokmin nods. “As crazy as they are, I would like to see this set of humans out to their end.”

Jihoon glances over at him. “You like them that much?”

“They’re hilarious.” The rest of the drive to the abandoned building is filled with Seokmin’s stories from high school and university. Even with Jihoon pushing double the speed limit, it’s too long.

Luckily, the stories don’t require Jihoon to respond.

“You should go first,” Jihoon says once they arrive. They park where Myungho had earlier.

Seokmin lifts his eyebrow.

“They’ll sense you before they sense me.”

When Jihoon joins him around the front of the car, Seokmin says, “So you’d rather I die so you don’t get outted as a traitor?”

“I haven’t done anything traitorous,” Jihoon eyes the buildings, “yet.”

“Fine.” Seokmin stalks ahead. “But only because I like you most days.”

At the later hour, the black smoke clouds are prominent. The angel and demon can see that the smoke isn’t coming from all the buildings now. It’s trailing from the one Jihoon had sent the humans into.

“What’s the point of us going to see them again?” The air is making Seokmin want to hurl. Or have a coughing fit. Likely both.

“Approximation of how long they’ve been doing this.” Jihoon adds, “And then we’ll know if your friends are possessed.”

“What are we?” Seokmin scoffs. “Cops?”

Jihoon chooses to ignore the sarcasm. “Cops are pretty evil. We could be.”

“They are not evil,” Seokmin argues. “Some of them get a little power hungry, and it gets to their heads. Easy to rectify the—”

“No, as in some of them have traded their souls.” Jihoon names three officers currently in the local police force who called on him a few years ago. “The souls are older, so He doesn’t like them as much, but what could I do?” He shrugs. “Those are the people summoning me these days.”

“What else have you been up to since I saw you… Where were we? New York? Y2K, yes?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “That one would’ve been fun if you’d let me do it.”

“You were going to cause World War III.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. It wouldn’t have been that bad.”

“It wouldn’t have been all that fun either. They would have destroyed each other.”

“Well, I’m sure thanks to you, humanity is alive and well.” Jihoon grabs Seokmin’s arm, stopping him in front of the building he recognizes from Myungho’s photos.

Seokmin passes a hand over the handprint Jihoon leaves on his cardigan. “Alive and well except for the ones in this building.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“We do know. She said they’re in here. And they’re dead.”

Jihoon leads the way. He already knows to go down the hallway. One, because of the trail of black smoke; two, because of the footprints. “Why do you trust her? Why do you think she understands anything that’s going on?”

“I don’t think she knew about this.” Seokmin looks around when he hears a bump from the second floor, but Jihoon is unbothered. “And she’s never given me a reason not to trust her. I’ve never known her to be a liar. An omitter of facts, maybe.”

“Trust and honesty are not interchangeable.”

“But they create the same—oh my… What in the Heavens?”

Jihoon leaves the angel standing flabbergasted in the doorway, so that he can check out the body lying in the center of the room. He squats down beside it. It’s hard to make out any features, because of the heaviness of the smoke. Eventually, the angel seems able to stomach the smell and wanders over.

Seokmin waves a hand over the body, white light emanating off his skin. It disperses some of the smoke.

The demon recognizes Seokmin’s murmurs as prayers.

“His soul is gone, Seokmin.” He peers at the body through the smoke, the angel’s words gibberish to his ears. The body has decomposed quite a bit; it’s nearly bone. The energy here would have kept any scavengers away.

He gets up and heads towards the stairs.

“Humans should be allowed to keep their souls,” Seokmin grumbles as he follows Jihoon. “We shouldn’t get a say in what happens to them. It should be up to God.”

“They get reincarnated if they aren’t possessed or sell their soul or anything like that.”

“And then we take them.”

“Yeah, supposedly once they’ve been good,” Jihoon points out. The staircase is narrow so Jihoon can’t see Seokmin’s face. “I assumed you would know that and believe it was a good thing.”

When Seokmin doesn’t respond, even when they crest the stairs, Jihoon gives him a good look. He was about to ask what the humans did to him, but Seokmin’s gone pale.

It takes Jihoon a second to realize that the air is heavy. As if he’s back in Hell. The concentration of energy must be overwhelming to the angel, but it makes sense why evidence can be seen near the edge of the complex. The unfinished building hasn’t kept the energy contained like the body down below.

Seokmin trails after him, coughing into the collar of his shirt. He holds a hand out to create a little air pocket for himself. Still, he needs to squint to see Jihoon, who is squatting down next to what Seokmin realizes is a pile of bodies. “What are you thinking?”

When Jihoon nudges a few bodies off the pile, Seokmin’s reaction is so visceral, Jihoon shoots him a look. The bodies at the bottom are bones.

“They’ve been at this a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“Long enough that these bodies have decomposed without much environmental help. More than a year. Probably closer to two. The bottom is bone.”

Seokmin’s eyes are on the moon in the sky, praying for clean air. “Great. So, what’s our plan now?”

“What’s the end goal? What’s the point? The earth is just as fucked up as it was the last time I was here. Maybe slightly more so, but not enough to bring about the End Days.”

“I mean, there are currently talks of nuclear war. A few wars,” Seokmin sighs sadly, “in the last few years. Nearly every major city has had a protest for climate change, female rights, and racial equality.”

“It all sounds standard,” Jihoon muses. He stares at the pile of bones. Humans possessed by demons whose souls became so corrupt that the possession began to show through. It’s the only reason why a demon would give up a body.

They head back to the car.

“We can’t even go back and ask about this.”

“No, we can’t. But I have a feeling that your little human friend knows.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “There are other humans like her.” He can feel his body relaxing as they get farther away from the site. “Ones that are just a little more intuitive.”

“I’ve met humans like that. She is not one of them.” Jihoon pulls her sketchbook from inside his suit jacket pocket. It shouldn’t fit in there based on Earth rules. He flips through the last few sketches. “You see what I see, don’t you?”

Seokmin sighs. He can see.

“Does she pick those places out herself? Draws them because she can feel the energy there? Has she shown you any of these?”

“Her sketches are typically off limits to us.” Seokmin glances over his shoulder. Now, he just feels on edge. “We get to see the final product. She’s usually protective of her sketchbook. Did you steal it?”

Jihoon flips to the end where he had been jotting down ideas. “She let me write in it.”

“You must have been extremely annoying if she gave that over to you."

Jihoon scoffs, as they climb back into the car.

"Well, all we can do is ask her."

"Her boyfriend's not going to get offended that we're accusing her of being a demon?" Jihoon asks.

"Are we accusing her of being a demon? That's what you're doing. And are you talking about Hansol? They've just known each other a really long time, wound up in the same business."

"Really? You too?" Jihoon tucks the sketchbook back into his pocket before slipping into the driver's seat. "The man look as if he's going to try to kill me in my sleep. If I slept, that is."

"He's protective of her, that's all. Worried that she's going to get her heart broken by some Casanova."

"She did say she had notoriously bad taste in partners."

Seokmin snorts, his grip tight on the door handle. "I've only met a handful of them. No demons, no angels, all humans."

"We're not allowed to date." It's a pretty general rule for angels and demons.

"Some do," Seokmin chuckles. "You don't stay on the surface too long, but angels will date around." He shrugs. "Demons seem to just love the 'fun'."

Jihoon doesn't respond to this.

part 6

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #svt #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fic

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