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writingforstraykids · 1 month

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I owe you a kiss Pt.4

Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Jisung/Felix)

Word Count: 5903

Summary: Chan arrives at the hospital to be there for his family in person. The news they receive about you aren't what they expected and Minho can't help but blame himself. Your husbands try to navigate their life as you recover.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of blood, mention of a panic attack, coma, mention of sleeping pills, mention of throwing up (no further descriptions) min feels guilty, anxious!min, soft!chan

A/N: I sure hope you don't hate me as much as last week...🥺🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE

Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”

“Hospital” is all he gets out.

“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”

Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers.

“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him.

“She's in surgery right now. Channie, they don't know if-” he can't say it, but meeting Chan's terrified eyes, he knows he gets it. “I'm so sorry,” he buries his face in his knees with a heavy sob.

Tears fill his eyes and he hates himself for not being there and able to hold him tight and not let go. “Minnie, baby, I'm sure it's not your fault,” he says gently and gets up, grabbing his suitcase. “Hannah!” he shouts through the house, not caring that his parents already went to bed. He needs to get back home as soon as possible.

Hannah is there in a few seconds, a little shocked by her brother's distraught look. “What's wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“I need to get home right now,” he tells her, and she nods gently. “Min, I'll figure this out, I promise. I'll be there as quickly as I can, okay?” Hannah's worries deepen at the timid answer Minho gives. “I know you have other things to worry about, but please let them check up on you, okay? I wouldn't want you to be hurt and notice too late.”

“Okay, Channie,” he sniffles. “What if she…?”

“Don't think that way,” Chan tells him softly. “Y/nnie’s a fighter, she'll push through. I'll let you know when I'm at the airport.”

Hannah already started packing her brother's suitcase, glancing at him worriedly as he exchanged goodbyes. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“They got into an accident,” he says and already dials another number. “They don't know if Y/N..,” he breaks off, and Hannah pulls him into a tight hug.

“She'll be okay; she always is,” she promises. “Now go call your fancy staff and get your VIP privileges; I'll pack.”

“Thank you,” he nods.

Minho looks up from his chair as the door to the room opens, and Felix slips inside. “What are you -?”

“Chan called and told me you could use someone,” Felix explains. He takes off his jacket and sits down next to him. He offers his hand, and Minho takes it, squeezing it gently. “Any news?”

“No,” he whispers timidly. “Still nothing,” he says. It's an hour ago that he called Chan. Someone checked up on him after cleaning the blood from his face and hands. “I didn't get hurt,” he says, and his face grows pale. “She was unconscious before I could do a thing, hit her head pretty hard. Felix there was so much blood,” he says mindlessly, as if he's giving him the facts on a new comeback.

Felix hums gently and rubs his shoulder. “I stopped by your place and got you some clothes. Maybe go and change, hm?” he suggests, spotting the blood on his shirt.

Minho stands up in a routine move, grabs his clothes, and locks himself in the bathroom. He meets his reflection in the mirror and closes his eyes, shivering softly. Fuck.

Felix glances up as he comes back and nods towards the small sofa in the corner of the room. He sits down there and pulls Minho into a hug. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

“It's not your fault,” Minho says tiredly and relaxes a little in his warm embrace. It's the first time something as shocking as this has happened, and none of his partners are there to hold his hand.

“I know,” Felix nods gently. “But still. You've already had a rough few months with Chan feeling like shit and then leaving.”

“Life is shit sometimes,” Minho shrugs, and his eyes flutter close when Felix starts running his hand through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

The flight back home has never felt as long as today. Never. About two hours ago he had gotten a message from Minho, short and simple, but it was enough.

Kitten🖤: She'll make it.

Chan quickly makes his way out of the airport and stops at home for ten minutes. Felix had told him to get home first, take a quick shower, and change clothes. None of them knew how long they'd be stuck at the hospital. Chan got into his car after and drove to the hospital, rushing up to your floor as soon as he knew where. Opening the door, he sees Felix sitting on the sofa in the back and gives him a quick wave.

Minho is by your bed, head resting on his arm on the mattress and seems asleep. Dried tear streaks cover his face and Chan's throat tightens at how exhausted he looks even in his sleep. And then there's you, looking as pale as the sheets, your head wrapped up safely. Your hand lies in Minho's, and only your chest moving tells him you're alive. Chan finds himself in Felix's arms before he fully registers the scene and hugs back tightly.

“Hey, mate,” Felix whispers, not wanting to wake Minho up. “I'll leave you to it, yeah? So that you know Minho does blame himself for what happened. We don't know when she'll wake up, but the doctor said she will.”

Chan nods gently before flashing him a tired smile. “Thank you for being here.”

“Obviously,” Felix snorts and gently pats his chest. “Welcome home, I guess.”

A little later, they're alone, and Chan timidly steps closer to Minho, sitting down on the chair next to him. His hand finds his lower back almost naturally and he very gently picks him up into his lap. A soft protesting sound leaves Minho's lips but he's too tired actually to question the action. Minho curls up in his arms, the way he always does, as if deep down he knows it's Chan. Chan makes sure he's comfortable and plants a tiny kiss on his hair, soothingly fondling his head. Only then did it hit him how much he had missed you two.

Minho wakes up later, feeling warm and comfortable. He subconsciously cuddles close before his brain slowly picks up on Chan's so familiar scent and the way his body feels against him, and he sits up straight rapidly. “Channie,” he breathes out, his eyes getting teary.

“Hi, kitten,” he says softly and presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he confesses quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asks gently. “Lee Minho, if you blame yourself for what happened now, I will smack your ass. Not in a good way.”

A weak laugh escapes him, and he gently shoves his chest. “Of course I do. I'd rather get hurt than her.”

“She'd say the same if it were you,” he says and gently rubs his shoulder. “Nevertheless, it's not your fault.”

“Channie?” he whispers timidly. “I really don't believe that and…,” he trails off with a sniffle.

“I'm here now, let it out,” he says softly, and Minho's head drops down in his chest with a broken sound. Chan holds him tight, trying to make him feel as safe and comforted as possible. Minho shuffles into his lap, straddling him and pulling him into a tight hug. They hold onto each other firmly and find comfort in their shared pain for a bit. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there.”

“Don't,” Minho stops him, burying his hand in his hair. “You're here now.”

“I didn't mean what I said in that call,” Chan tells him nevertheless. “I was planning to surprise you for your birthday in two weeks after.”

Minho sniffles softly and squeezes him. “Yeah? So you've been getting better?”

“I have,” Chan nods and kisses his cheek. “It's still not completely, but it's so much better.”

“That's good,” he tells him. “I'm proud of you, Channie.”

“I love you,” Chan says gently. “So so much.”

Minho smiles a little at that and takes a deep breath. He is better. “I love you too, Channie.”

Minho firmly holds Chan's hand as they lean against the wall opposite your room. About twenty minutes ago, the doctor sent them away as you started to tremble. Since then, no one has talked to them. Another doctor shuffled into the room, and Minho could tell Chan was getting anxious from there on.

Chan grows awfully quiet next to him, staring at the floor and seeming like he's far away. Minho is shaking a little, tapping his fingers against his thigh anxiously. Chan soothingly rubs his knuckles and squeezes his hand for the tenth time. “They said she'd be okay, right?” he asks.

Minho glances at him awkwardly. “They said she'd make it…whatever that means for the rest.”

Chan huffs softly and nods, Minho is right. “Am I the only one feeling like throwing up?”

“God no,” Minho laughs weakly. “Have been since the accident.”

Chan glances at him worriedly. “You should've told me.”

He shrugs tiredly and cracks his neck with a soft moan. “I always am when I'm worried. There's nothing you could've done.”

Chan nods and traces his eyes up and down his body. “But you're not dizzy? Are you having a headache? Or anything?”

Minho steps in front of him and takes both of his hands. “I'm okay, physically. They checked everything, I promise,” he tells him softly and Chan pulls him into a hug. He lets him, only then noticing that Chan is shaking himself by now. “Deep breaths, we'll be alright.”

“Okay,” Chan whispers.

“We'll be okay,” Minho repeats himself as if to convince them both.

“Okay,” Chan nods, and Minho pulls back from him as the door opens. Their hands don't part as the doctor leads them to an office nearby and asks them to sit down. Chan looks like he's about to throw up now and Minho is dancing at the edge of a lingering panic attack.

“Mr. Lee, you've asked me to wait for a proper update on your wife's state until your husband arrives,” she starts out, and Chan gently grabs Minho's hand, squeezing it. “I have an update on the condition of your wife and I'm afraid it isn't what you'd like to hear. The impact injured her frontal bone, which punctured her brain. We could fix this with the surgery,” the doctor tells them.

Both of them are smart enough not to be too relieved already. “And besides that?” Minho asks timidly, not having missed that warning before.

She gives him a compassionate smile. “Well, for one there'll probably be the usual aftermaths like nightmares or even fear of sitting in a car again. That isn't everything, though.”

“Stop sweet talking and tell us what we're dealing with, please,” Chan says kindly, heart thumping in his throat.

“Your wife seems to have suffered more trauma than we thought, especially after the surgery. She's in a coma, and we don't know when or if she'll wake-.”

“If?” Minho asks, barely audible, his hand slipping from Chan’s. “But…you said she’d make it.”

She flashes him a compassionate smile. “That’s before her body shut down, she seemed stable before. I’m really sorry.”

“For fucks sake,” he breathes out and slowly pushes himself up from his chair. “You’re saying there’s a chance she’ll never wake up again? What then? You expect me to tell you when to turn it all off?”

“Minho,” Chan speaks up gently and turns in his chair to face him. There’s nothing but blank fear in his eyes, and he looks at the doctor in front of them so desperately it breaks his heart. “It’s not her fault.”

“No shit, Chan!” Minho snaps at him, and Chan’s gaze grows firm.

“Don’t do this. Not here,” he says calmly, and Minho scoffs at him.

“My image as an idol is the last thing I care about right now, Mr. Golden Boy,” he presses out and shakes his head, leaving the room without another word.

Chan sighs heavily and turns back at the doctor, smiling apologetically. “I apologize, he didn’t mean it.”

“I'll be quick,” she assures him kindly. We don't know how soon she'll wake up again. In case she does, someone has to take care of her. I know you're both very busy. Is there anyone else, just in case?”

“Besides a friend of hers not really, no,” Chan says worriedly. “Her family doesn't live exactly close.”

“If she can go back home soon…Mr. Bahng, there's a high chance this will take months, maybe a year, until she fully regains her abilities. We don't know how bad it'll affect her yet, there's a potential for memory loss. I will inform you about eventual treatments and everything when it's time. I'm really sorry and I wish you and your husband the best of luck and strength with this new situation.”

Chan exchanges another few words before quickly rushing outside and trying the closest bathroom as the hallway is empty. Luckily, Minho seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Minho's on his knees, retching even though there's nothing left. Chan crouches down behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. “Hey, baby, deep breaths.”

Minho whimpers and falls back against him, sobbing. “Please, please tell me this isn't true. Not our sweet Y/nnie.”

Chan swallows down tears, trying to stay strong for both of them. Minho has been carrying everyone's shit on his shoulders for too long now. It's time he steps up again. “It'll be okay, we'll be okay,” he promises and rocks him gently as Minho allows himself to break down in his arms. “Shh, it's okay, Minnie baby, it's okay, I got you.”

Chan stares at you, deep in thoughts, trying to make sense of the past few hours. The thought of you possibly never waking up again is killing him. He feels guilty for not being there those past months. What if he missed all this time with you? Just because he hadn't been feeling so well? His chest tightens, and he sucks in a sharp breath, subconsciously reaching for Minho next to him. Every word dies in his throat, seeing his husband. Minho stares at the floor, hot tears running down his cheeks and pressing his lips together tightly in an attempt to hold back his sobs. His hair falls into his face, stomach twisting with guilt the longer he thinks about what happened. Chan swallows hard at the sight of his husband, trying not to break down. His shoulders tremble with the impact of his suppressed sobs, and he sniffles softly. Chan gently rubs his back and watches him worriedly as he pushes himself up. He quickly reaches out for him and stares up at him with wide eyes. “Please don't leave,” he whispers, swallowing down his own fear but not fully succeeding. “Please,” he adds, tears brimming his eyes.

Minho looks at him and shakes his head. “I can't breathe in here,” he confesses through tears and shakily holds Chan's hand. “I just wanna go home, please, I’ve been here for hours,” he whimpers.

Chan looks at him quietly before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. They're both exhausted and need some sleep. You wouldn't wake up that soon, and they both could use a break. “Okay, I'll drive us home; my car’s outside.”

“For telling you to get yourself together…more or less,” he says and stops at a redlight. “That wasn’t very supportive of me.”

Minho exhales, relieved, and shakily holds onto his hand as Chan gently says his goodbye to you. They leave the hospital in silence, and Chan drives them back home, soothingly rubbing Minho's knee. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Minho asks tiredly, staring at the many buildings passing by.

Minho laughs weakly and rolls his eyes at himself. “It’s okay, you were right. There’s nothing she can do about it right now…Also, I’m sorry for calling you a golden boy.”

“Please, as if I’d take that to heart after those past few months,” he snorts, and Minho smiles at him tiredly.

“I missed you,” he admits and grabs his hand, squeezing it. “It’s good to have you back.”

Chan smiles softly and brings their hands up to his mouth, planting a kiss on his knuckles. “I’m here now, yeah?”

Minho hums quietly in response, and Chan starts driving again.

Back home, Minho stands still for a moment, and Chan watches him worriedly as he starts shaking. Minho sucks in a sharp breath and clutches his chest, bending over with a whimper. “Hey, hey, babe,” he panics a little as Minho sinks to his knees with a groan, curling up and sobbing loudly. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried that Minho got hurt and just didn’t tell him.

“I'm so sorry,” he whimpers as Chan gets down on the floor next to him. “It's all my fault.”

Chan shakes his head and holds onto him tightly, leaning down. “No, don't say that,” he tells him and helplessly rubs his back. “It's not your fault, baby.” His heart races with how intensely Minho sobs beneath him, and his stomach turns painfully. He has never seen him break down like this in all those many years he has known and then loved him. “Come here, please,” he whispers, tears making their way down his face. Now that they're back home, he can let them flow freely and allow himself to let it out. He heaves him into his lap, and Minho clings onto him firmly, allowing himself a little comfort in his husband's arms. Chan rocks him in his arms, trying to calm his own troubled mind.

“I’m sorry, Channie,” he whimpers and Chan hugs him even tighter in response.

One week later

“Min, baby?” Chan asks, coming back upstairs. “You're ready yet, we gotta-Minho?” he asks worriedly as he spots his husband lying in bed fully dressed. He bites back a sigh and sits down at the edge of the bed. “Min? What's wrong?”

“I don't want to,” he says quietly, seemingly staring right through him.

“What do you mean? We made a promise to stop by every day,” he tries gently.

“I can't go there, okay? Not today,” he shakes his head and subconsciously curls up a little. “I hate hospitals, I hate that she's there, I hate that she's hurt, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

“We should try to be there for her as much as we can, baby,” Chan argues carefully and brushes his hair from his face.

“It’s not like she notices if I’m not there or not,” Minho says.

“The doctor said there’s a chance she can hear us, kitten, remember?” he asks patiently.

“I don’t talk anyway,” he argues weakly.

“Min,” he sighs softly.

“I can't go there, Channie. Please don't make me go there,” he shivers, his eyes brimming with tears. “Please,” he whispers shakily.

Chan crawls into bed and pulls him in close, soothingly running his hand through his hair. “Shh, baby, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry, Channie,” Minho hiccups and buries himself deep into his chest. “I fucked it all up, I'm so sorry.”

“No, Minho, none of that,” he says firmly and shakes his head. “This isn't your fault, none of it.”

“You weren't even there, you don't know that,” he whimpers.

Chan pulls back and cups his face, making him look at him. “I might haven't been there, but I'm here now. I know my husband would do anything to keep that girl of ours safe. I know you would've swapped places in an instant, and I know you'd never put her at risk like that.” His thumbs rub along his cheeks soothingly, and he searches his eyes desperately. “Minho, this isn't your fault, and I’m sure she knows that. She loves you so much, and so do I. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

“Please don't make me go there again,” he sniffles timidly, eyes wide and filled with guilt.

“I'll go on my own, it's okay, Min,” he assures him and kisses his forehead. “Try and get some rest okay?”

“I keep dreaming about it,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly. “I keep hearing her scream, and then her head hits…Channie, I'm fucked.”

Chan hums gently and rubs soothing circles on his lower back. “If it doesn't get better, we'll get you some help, yeah?” he suggests, and Minho nods tiredly. “For now, I'll give you one of my pills, and you'll be sleeping like a baby.”

“Okay,” he nods gently. Minho gets into some more comfortable clothes again and takes the pill, curling up in his arms. Chan plays with his hair and hums softly, lulling him in with every passing minute. “Love you, Channie hyung.”

“Love you too, Minho baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. Once Minho's actually asleep, he tucks him in and makes sure he's comfortable before he leaves to go and see you. Chan stays with you for a while, talking to himself, telling you about whatever comes to his mind. If he could, he’d stay here all day, but there’s still loads of work to catch up with, and he doesn’t dare leave Minho on his own for too long.

At the company, Chan slowly strolls down the hallway to their practice room and hears the music blasting. He opens the door and finds Felix and Jisung practicing their newest dance. He gives them a tired wave, and Jisung quickly turns off the music.

“Didn’t we agree on you staying home for a few days?” Felix asks him and raises his eyebrows at him.

“It’s suffocating,” he shakes his head, and Jisung glances at him worriedly.

“He’s not getting better, huh?” he asks, and Chan shakes his head.

“I can’t blame him. He was the one driving; I’d blame myself, too. It’s just…today, he simply couldn’t get himself to go to the hospital with me,” Chan tells them quietly and stares at the floor. “I can’t fix this, and it’s driving me insane.”

“Hey,” Jisung says gently. “When you were feeling like shit, neither of them tried to fix you. They held your hand when you needed it and let you go as you needed some space. You can’t fix any of this, just be there for him.”

“I’m trying, Ji, I swear,” Chan huffs, frustrated, tears burning in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“And what would have that changed?” Felix asks gently. “The only difference that could’ve been would be you driving. You think Minho would stand here any differently now then?”

“I hurt him,” Chan says and they frown at him softly. “We got into a fight, and Y/nnie took him out for dinner to cheer him up because I’ve been a complete asshole. She texted me, saying how hurt he was and…maybe he would’ve reacted more quickly and-.”

“Chan,” Felix says firmly. “We’ve seen the footage, there was no chance. The other driver was drunk and racing down that street. There’s nothing he could’ve done. If you truly don’t blame him, you can’t blame yourself either. If you’re saying you made him too caught up in his thoughts to prevent the accident, you’re not only blaming yourself here.”

Chan tiredly rubs his face before nodding. “Yeah, okay, sorry.”

“You should get back home and get some rest,” Jisung says softly and pulls him into a tight hug. “There’s no use in staying here and beating yourself up, worrying about Min when you could be with him right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods and squeezes them both tightly. “I’ll just sort a few things out, then I’ll be gone, promise.”

“Alright,” they nod and wave goodbye.

So three hours in total later, Chan gets back home and quietly glances into their bedroom. Minho's still deep asleep, and Chan decides to join him while he works. He sits down on the bed next to him and gently runs his hand through his hair, turning on his laptop. He sighs softly, spotting the fading bruises on his arm and the healing cut right below his hairline. Of course, Minho had been hurt by the impact as well, but the shock and gravity of your situation made him downplay his own injuries. Chan only found out accidentally when they took a bath two days ago to relax a little. “Oh, kitten,” he whispers to himself and shakes his head at him.

Minho wakes up another three hours later, rolling away from him drowsily. His brain feels fuzzy, his vision is foggy, and he needs a moment to comprehend he's awake. He rubs his face with a groan and blinks heavily, trying to stay awake. Turning onto his back, he spots Chan next to him and squints at him. “Why the fuck are they so strong?” he rasps, voice laced heavily with sleep.

“Well, because I need them to sleep,” he chuckles and gently fondles his hair. “You slept alright?”

“Mhm,” he hums sleepily and stretches his body with a low groan. “How's Y/nnie?” he asks timidly.

“No changes yet,” Chan tells him and thoughtfully stares out of the window. “Min?”

“Hm?”

“I think you should take a break,” Chan says, not looking at him.

Minho shoots up and stares at him. “Why?” he asks dangerously low, suddenly fully awake.

“You're exhausted, baby. You deserve a break,” Chan says, glancing at him.

“And it's just that?” Minho asks sharply, and Chan frowns at him. “Not because you think I'm losing it?”

“What? No,” he quickly shakes his head. “I swear it's because you're exhausted, you worked double with me gone.”

“More like triple because you do way too much, but yeah,” he snickers before huffing softly. “Yeah, okay, you're probably right. Can you sort that shit out?”

Chan smiles knowingly. “I already did. You're on break for a month besides group interviews that get recorded or those two live performances we have coming up.”

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing. “That won't stop me from dragging you home from the studio if you stay too long.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promises and squeezes his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I know,” he giggles softly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“You’re a menace, Chan,” he shakes his head. “If you don’t cut back a little, you’ll end up overwhelmed and overworked again in a month.”

Minho’s eyes flicker away from his, and he nods firmly. “Of course I am.”

“Kitten?” he asks softly. “Can you promise me something?”

“Depends,” he squints at him suspiciously.

“I need you to be honest with me. If you’re struggling, feeling lost, or overwhelmed, let me know. No matter where I am, no matter how late it is,” Chan says, and Minho stares at him quietly for a minute. “Minho?”

“I can try,” he whispers and searches his eyes. “No, I will try. I promise. Just…don’t expect too much, you know how I am.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chan nods worriedly, and Minho gently kisses his cheek.

“I’ll be fine, I always am,” he says.

One and a half months later

After skipping that one time, it took him a week to go back to the hospital. After that, he didn’t miss a day, sometimes coming here with Chan and sometimes, when Chan’s schedule didn’t fit, coming on his own. He couldn’t deal with not seeing you and talking to you, even though you never answered.

Minho greets the nurse with a kind smile and nervously clutches the flowers in his hand. “Any news?”

“Not yet, Mr. Lee,” she says gently. “She’s stable, that’s what counts. It isn’t getting any worse. Don’t give up hope.”

Minho nods gently. “I won’t,” he says before excusing himself and stepping into your room. He closes the door quietly behind himself and sighs softly, seeing you. “Hey, Y/nnie,” he says gently and makes his way around the bed, replacing the old flowers with the ones he brought. “Got you some flowers…you would like those,” he says and sits down on the chair next to your bed. For a while he simply watches you, watches your chest rising and falling, your lashes resting against your cheeks. The bandages around your head are gone by now, and he hesitantly reaches out, caressing your cheek. “God, I miss you,” he sighs softly and braces himself on the mattress, taking your hand between his. “It’s so quiet at the house now when Channie’s working. Sometimes, I’m stupid enough to believe you’ll come around the corner every second and ask for cuddles. Or ask if I can make you dinner, I miss cooking with you so much,” he rambles on mindlessly. “You’d be surprised how much has changed since you’re not home. Chan is home before twelve every night, can you believe that? He’s really taking care of himself now, you’d be so proud. Also, he asked me to teach him some things around the kitchen, I think he did it so I wouldn’t get bored. I’m seeing a therapist now…never thought I’d ever need that. Apparently, there’s more stuff in my life I need to work through besides that stupid accident. She’s nice, you’d like her,” he says and trails off for a while. Your face before his eyes gets blurry as his eyes brim with tears and his throat tightens up.

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel like shit about what happened. It’s okay to feel guilty. As long as it doesn’t stop you from moving on with your life and eventually smiling again. He doesn’t know how often he heard those first three sentences in the past few weeks.

Minho inhales shakily and squeezes your hand in his. “I miss you so much, honey. I miss your laugh, I miss acting stupid with you, I miss holding your hand or pulling you close and swaying you through the kitchen. I miss holding you when you’re asleep, and I never thought I’d miss carrying the grocery bags for you this badly. Fuck, I miss your voice and those beautiful eyes looking at me like I deserve all the love you have for me,” he sniffles softly and presses his trembling lips together for a second. “Can you try and wake up soon, Y/nnie honey? I can’t stay strong forever,” he presses out, and his shoulders shake with a suppressed sob. He doesn’t notice the door opening and flinches a little as someone wraps his arms around his waist. Chan’s familiar scent surrounds him, and Minho instinctively leans into his touch. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

“I know,” Chan answers quietly and kisses his cheek. “Some days are just harder than others.”

“Yeah,” Minho sniffles softly and stays in his arms, your hand in his pressed against his face. “You’re early,” he speaks up after a while.

“We finished early,” he nods and mindlessly rubs his side. “Thought I’d stop by and pick you up.”

“Thanks, love,” he says gently. He doesn’t feel safe driving yet, and Chan made sure to pick him up personally whenever he could. Minho pulls back from you with a sniffle, gently resting your hand on the mattress. “No update yet, but they told me it’s a good sign that her state isn’t getting worse.”

“Okay, that’s something,” Chan nods, agreeing, and gets himself a chair, lifting Minho in his lap. “You wanna talk about today?” he asks, gently rubbing his thighs.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asks, turning in his hold. Chan nods understandingly and squeezes his hand.

“That’s fine,” he says, resting his head on his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to tell me about therapy, but I’m there if you want to.”

“I know,” Minho smiles thankfully and watches you thoughtfully. “I see her every day, and still, I miss her like crazy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chan nods. “I’m so glad to have you still…I’d go insane on my own.”

“Oh, me too,” he chuckles softly. “You wanna leave? Or can we stay for another bit?”

“We can stay as long as you want to, kitten,” he promises.

One week later

Minho unlocks the front door to your house and drags himself inside. After a quick visit this morning he had been at the company, practicing for an upcoming performance. It’s been two months since you fell into a coma, and according to the doctor, you’re slowly starting to make progress. She told them there was a high chance it wouldn’t take all too long anymore for you to wake up. Minho didn’t care one bit how long it would still take. The fact that you’d wake up again had been everything he needed.

He frowns softly at how quiet the house is. Shouldn’t Chan already be home? Minho slips out of his shoes and calls out for him, getting no answer. “Channie, love?” he asks again, strolling into the living room area. His eyes widen at the sight in front of him, and he covers his mouth in shock. “What the fuck?”

The living room is dark but illuminated by the many strings of light adorning the walls. A huge bouquet of red roses rests beautifully in a vase on top of the sofa table, and the sweet scent of fresh brownies lingers in the air. Minho turns at the sound of the door opening and sees his husband stepping inside with a bottle of wine. “Channie?” he asks softly.

Chan’s eyes widen, spotting him, and his face falls checking his watch. “Hey! You’re home early,” he protests.

“Obviously,” Minho giggles and frowns at him. “What’s all that about? Did I miss something? It’s not our anniversary, right?” he asks worriedly.

Chan puts down the bottle of wine and shakes his head. “I just realized it’s been six long months since I did something nice for you with everything going on. I wanted to surprise you and - no, why are you crying?” he asks softly.

“Sorry,” he giggles through tears. “Happy tears, I swear,” he promises and messily wipes his cheeks.

“Fucker,” he breathes out as his own eyes fill with tears seeing him beaming with joy after all this time.

Minho giggles wetly and closes the distance between them, hugging him so forcefully it makes Chan stumble for a moment. “You’re so sweet.”

Chan smiles brightly and buries his face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, kitten.”

“I love you too,” he whispers and pulls back, beaming at him. They sink into each other’s eyes and Minho can’t help giving in to the invisible string pulling them closer. Their lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss and Minho melts into him, hand buried in his curls.

“I worried this would be too cheesy,” Chan giggles breathlessly as he pulls back for a moment.

“Don’t you ever dare stop being cheesy, yeah?” he whispers.

“Never,” he promises, giggling, and seals the deal with another soft kiss.

PART THREE | PART FIVE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @kailee08 @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @harshaaaaa @lost-in-avoidance

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f1crecs · 2 months

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Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

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enjoy!

On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!

'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'

nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!

'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'

all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!

'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'

Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!

When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation. For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.

'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'

glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.

'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'

no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!

'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'

nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!

'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'

Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.

'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'

nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.

'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'

nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.

“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”

mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.

'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'

thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝

#lestappen #pairing:charles/max #driver:charles #driver:max #trope:au

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

stay for a while

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is being late to work' and for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event for Valentine's Day

rated e | 815 words | tags: post-sex afterglow, dirty talk, established relationship, domestic fluff

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"You gotta go faster," Steve panted.

"I'm not the one riding me, sweetheart," Eddie replied, equally out of breath.

"Put your back into it."

So Eddie gripped Steve's hips and put his back into it.

When Steve collapsed on top of him, Eddie's cum coating both of their stomachs, they both sighed.

This was the first time they'd managed to have sex in nearly a week. Their schedules were awful lately, and any time they did manage to spend together was usually asleep.

But Steve managed to wake up before his alarm this morning and Eddie was already naked and hard and one thing led to another...

"I'm gonna be late if I don't get up and shower," Steve sighed.

He loved his job as a guidance counselor, but the early mornings sucked. Especially when Eddie didn't have to be at work most days until nine.

Maybe he could call in sick or something today.

"I could join you..." Eddie's teeth nipped his neck teasingly. "Work you up while you wash your hair. Suck you off until you can't feel your legs. Maybe fill you up again and lick you clean."

If Steve's cock wasn't trapped between them, it probably would have given a valiant effort at getting hard again.

"Babyyyyy."

"What?" Eddie kissed his jaw. "I just wanna make up for all the time we've missed this week."

"I know," Steve sat up and looked down at Eddie's sweat-slick chest. "It'll be better next week. I won't be on afternoon pick-up duty and won't have senior meetings to go to."

"And I won't be stuck at the studio with this fuckin' singer who thinks I don't have a life outside of him and his lackluster songwriting skills."

Steve smirked. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I would, but I wouldn't wanna ruin the afterglow, Stevie. You look fuckable."

"I look fucked. There's a difference," Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Not to me," Eddie pouted. "I could fuck you again. Real quick. Won't even know I'm there."

Steve snorted. "Why are you so horny this morning, Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame him. I just always want you. You're like a potato chip: one is never enough."

"Wow. What a line. I'm melting into a puddle," Steve's monotone voice was interrupted by Eddie's loud laugh. "I'm gonna go shower before you try something."

"But...we still have 30 minutes before you have to go."

Steve glanced at the clock, jumping up and yelping when he realized Eddie hadn't even pulled out all the way yet. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I have a senior meeting this morning! I have less than ten minutes!"

Steve tripped getting out of the bed, his legs still wobbly from riding Eddie for the last 15 minutes.

"Reschedule it!" Eddie yelled after him as Steve ran into the bathroom and started the shower. "Call in sick."

"Not happening! It's Hannah; She's freaking out about college applications as if she won't get in everywhere she applies and if I cancel, she'll spiral," Eddie made his way into the shower as Steve spoke, nodding along to his words, but focused mostly on the way the water was dripping down his body as he rushed to wash his hair. "And then I have a faculty meeting with the rest of the counselors to discuss how we'll implement the new afterschool senior study group because the school board said we can't legally call it a study group unless it's 100% sanctioned by the students, which is just incredibly stupid and also not even remotely important! Like, we're just trying to make sure they can pass their finals, why does it matter what we call it?"

Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's lips softly, just enough of a brush against them to make him pause.

"Sorry," Steve sighed. "Didn't mean to ramble."

"You know I love when you do, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, grabbing the shampoo bottle from the shelf to get started on his own hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed. Kinda wanna help relieve that stress some more."

"Baby, I love you, but if you touch my dick right now, I will murder you."

"Ouch," Eddie clutched his hand to his chest. "Straight to murder over a little handjob in the shower?"

"If that's what has to be done for me to get to work on time."

Eddie sighed. "Fine. I won't touch you. But I'm gonna be sad all day about the lost moments we could've shared."

Steve finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned to give Eddie a quick peck on the lips. "We can share some moments tonight. Promise."

"Okay, okay. Get out before you're late."

Steve was still late for work, but mostly because he still insisted on packing Eddie's lunch while he was in the shower finishing up. No job was more important than that.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is being late to work #dirty talk #established relationship #domestic fluff #post-sex afterglow

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sweetestdesire · 11 months

Note

reader being seen as innocent by everyone in obx but when her and rafe get together he quickly finds out she’s actually a lil freak 🤭

GOOD GIRL GONE BAD

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, mentions of masturbation, innocence kink, mentions of alcohol consumption, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Kook!Reader’s not as sweet and innocent as everyone thinks she is.

Y/N stared at Rafe from her perch on the lifeguard chair, admiring him in his swim trunks. She waved down at him, hoping he would come up to see her as he occasionally did. She wasn’t disappointed, and moments later he was sitting beside her on the wooden chair, which was completely against the rules.

"You're not supposed to be up here, Rafe.” Y/N giggled. “How many times do I have to tell you that? This is just for lifeguards.” She tried to sound annoyed, but knew she failed and didn't really care. She hated to admit it, but she loved it when Rafe sat with her. His mere presence thrilled her to the core.

"And do you always follow the rules, princess?" Rafe asked teasing her, using the nickname he knew she hated.

"Of course.” Y/N looked at him innocently. "We all know that I'm a good girl. I never do anything wrong, and if I get in trouble for you being up here, I'm gonna blame it on you.” She giggled as she said it, mostly because she knew she had just completely pinpointed the image of herself. Because everyone did see her as an angel, and nobody had any reason to believe otherwise.

"Alright. Well, I'll get down then. I certainly don't want you to get your perfect little self in trouble because of me.” Rafe flashed her that smile, the perfect mix of lustful devilishness and little boy mischief that made her melt.

When she saw that smile of his, Y/N wanted to yell, “No, stay up here with me.” Instead, however, she nodded and watched him climb down from her chair.

As he stood below her chair, he yelled up to her, "You owe me a quick swim when your shift’s over.” And with that, he walked back into the ocean, swimming away from her and towards a group of Kooks that regularly hung out with him.

An hour later, Y/N, waiting for her shift to end, continued to survey the beach. There were people everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in groups like miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight. She checked her watch, nearly 5:00PM. She began to think of her evening, trying desperately to think of what she would do that night after her shift. Her mind was a blank, and it depressed her a bit to think that she had no plans.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted as Hannah, the girl who worked the 5:00PM-10:00PM shift, climbed up on the lifeguard chair beside her.

"Hey, Y/N. Anything happen today?" Hannah asked, the standard question as shifts were changed.

"Nope, not really. Just another day." Hannah nodded and settled onto her perch as Y/N tossed her sunscreen and sunglasses into her bag and climbed off the chair. "See you tomorrow.”

Just as her feet touched the sand, Y/N was splashed with a small wave of cold water. Not amused, she turned to see who had splashed her, only to look into the face of Rafe, flashing her that smile again.

"Where do you think you're going, princess?" He inquired seriously. "I believe you promised me a swim." He looked at her, fully prepared to give her a hard time if she tried to bail on him. Knowing this, Y/N relented.

"Fine, I'll swim with you for a few. But if you call me princess again, I’ll-"

Rafe cut her off, splashing her again. "Yeah? You'll what?" He laughed as she shivered with the unexpected cold water, and tried to suppress a grin as he saw her nipples stiffen through her suit. "What’re you gonna do, princess?"

Y/N offered him no response, and instead did her best cannon ball as close to him as possible, nearly landing on his head. When she surfaced laughing hysterically, he was there, immediately dunking her back under. That time, she surfaced sputtering and nearly choking on the salty water.

"Bastard.” She muttered under her breath, laughing even as she choked.

"That's not very nice language for such a sweet girl like yourself.” Rafe teased her. "I'm sure you don't talk like that around your father.” He laughed.

She cut his laughter off, offering, "Hey, do you want to hang out tonight? I don't have plans, and we could just chill at my place and watch a movie or something?”

Y/N was surprised by her offer, and suddenly feared he would reject it. However, Rafe smiled, seeming genuinely pleased, and got out of the water and immediately going for his towel.

"Sounds good.” Rafe said, tossing her towel to her as he continued to dry himself off.

Y/N wrapped herself up in her towel, smiling to herself, suddenly excited that Rafe was coming over. She would never admit to anyone that she'd had a crush on him since she met him at that boneyard party during the summer. That was four years ago, and she had grown up since then, something he was well aware of. They continued to hang out, and there were many times she found herself wishing that something would transpire between them.

The two were drying off, spacing out into their own thoughts, when Hannah yelled down, "Y/N, you've been here since 7 o’clock this morning. Ten hours at the beach is enough. Go home already.”

Her voice brought the two back to reality. Y/N waved at her fellow lifeguard, grabbed her bag, and walked towards her car, Rafe following closely behind.

"Hey, why don’t we take my car back to your place? You haven't even gotten to ride in it yet.” Rafe proposed, looking like an eager child as he walked towards his brand new Range Rover.

Y/N laughed as his eyes sparkled with admiration for the vehicle. As she sat in the passenger's seat, however, she couldn't help but sigh contentedly. It is rather comfortable, she thought to herself sheepishly.

A moment later, Rafe was pealing out of the public beach parking lot and racing along the road and towards Figure Eight. During the ride, Y/N suddenly was struck with worry, wondering if she had tidied everything up in the house. She wasn't concerned so much with the possibility of a mess, rather what she may have left merely lying around.

Y/N did a mental check list of the important items: underwear, bras, the retainer from high school that she still tried to wear occasionally, her mechanical toys. She shrugged off the nervousness, convincing herself everything had been tucked away safely and discreetly. She relaxed again, enjoying the open feeling of the wind and feeling as if she could touch the sky as Rafe raced along the road.

Finally, they passed into the golden-gated community of the enormous neighborhood, where manicured lawns and large mansions were spoken for. Rafe pulled the car into Y/N’s driveway, and the two walked up to the front door with Y/N in the lead.

Rafe was unable to avoid occasionally checking out her cute ass as the two walked together. She unlocked the door, and the two walked inside. Shedding her shoes by the horsehair welcome mat, Y/N shuffled in and skimmed her eyes over the familiar shimmering granite tile and the bright white wallpaper, a crystal chandelier dangling dangerously nearly a story from high above.

"I'm just gonna change out of my suit really quick. I’ll be right back, okay?” With that, Y/N raced up the stairs to her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Once alone in her room, Y/N immediately stripped off her suit and reached for something comfortable: her favorite black running shorts and a white tank top. As she was about to step into the shorts, she caught off a glimpse of her own naked body in the mirror and turned to look at herself straight on.

While Y/N was not a conceited person, she couldn't help but smile at her reflection. The time she spent so religiously in the water and the gym had paid off. Suddenly realizing that Rafe was still waiting for her, she quickly grabbed the shorts and put them on, not bothering with underwear. She pulled on the tank, aware that it clung tightly to her body, but also knowing she looked cute.

After throwing her hair up into a ponytail, Y/N checked the mirror one more time and headed back downstairs to the living room to Rafe. He was sprawled on the leather couch, wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt, having obviously changed while she was in her room.

Smiling, Y/N teased, "Well, I see you've certainly made yourself at home.”

"I did. Even checked out the contents of your bathroom after I changed. Lots of interesting little gadgets in there.” Rafe let his voice trail off and watched her face carefully. She could feel her face flaming as she tried to decide if he was serious or kidding.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N mumbled, not able to look him in the face. When he said nothing, she implored, "Did you really look at the stuff in my bathroom?" Her voice squeaked with embarrassment and indignation, praying he had only been joking.

"Maybe. Why, was there something in there I shouldn't have seen?" Rafe grinned, dying for her reaction, a little disappointed when she didn't reply.

Her silence answered his question though, and he laughed a little. "Relax, Y/N.” He said sweetly. "I'm too much of a gentleman to search a girl's drawer."

“You’re most definitely not a gentleman, Rafe Cameron." She teased, punching him playfully in the arm.

"I am too a gentleman.” Rafe replied with all seriousness, looking her up and down. "I always put a lady's pleasure before my own, you know?”

Rafe was teasing and Y/N knew it, but she also picked up on the sexual implications of his comments. She immediately felt her body respond, just a slight tingling between her legs, but she knew she needed to get back on safer ground.

"Are you hungry?" Y/N asked, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen. "I was thinking we could order Chinese for delivery.” She waited for his response, and when he nodded his approval, she darted to the expansive kitchen to find the menu.

As soon as she left the living room, Rafe shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, and one that would hide his growing erection. He knew she hadn't noticed yet, but he also knew that it wasn't going to be easy to hide it all night. Dammit, why had he agreed to hang with her tonight? There was just something about her.

Rafe had looked in a few drawers in her bathroom; he'd been unable to resist. He had always suspected that Y/N wasn't quite as innocent as she pretended to be, that somewhere deep inside her was a wild girl just waiting to be unleashed. And when he had opened the drawer on a stand next to her bathtub, his suspicions had been confirmed. Right there was a pink vibrator. He chuckled to himself, pleased to know that he had been right.

Y/N reentered the living room, dashing his thoughts. "I ordered a couple things; we just have to wait for the delivery guy. He said it’ll be here in about twenty minutes."

Rafe nodded, and got off the couch to walk towards her. He knew his cock was probably making a bulge in his pants and part of him hoped she noticed.

"Mind if I have something to drink?" He asked her casually as he walked towards the kitchen. She followed immediately and opened the fridge for him.

"Well, well, well.” Rafe said in surprise. “What’s with all this alcohol?" He grinned down at her, loving the way she blushed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, well, it’s..." Y/N’s voice faltered for a second. "It’s my father’s." She stared at the floor for a moment, and then looked up, seeming satisfied and smiled broadly. "So, what do want to drink?"

"Well, I'm gonna have a beer, and you?" He grinned devilishly again. "What can I make you, chocolate milk? Apple juice?"

Y/N smacked him, hard. "I'll take a rum and coke, smartass.”

The two stood in the kitchen and talked, each downing a couple drinks. Soon, the food arrived and they ate a bit, each having a little more to drink. After about three rum and cokes, Y/N could feel herself relaxing and getting the start of a buzz.

When the leftovers were piled back in the fridge and Rafe had mixed her a fourth drink, they migrated back to the living room. When he sat on the couch, Y/N sat right next to him, closer than she planned, but not minding at all. They watched TV, occasionally talking until suddenly their drinks were gone.

"Want some more?" Y/N asked, not waiting for a response and immediately going to retrieve it. When she returned, she set her drink on the coffee table and held the beer up, just out of Rafe’s reach.

Rafe smirked, amused and curious about where the situation was going. "Give me the beer, little girl.” He teased, laughing.

"In case you haven't noticed, I’m not a little girl anymore." As she spoke, she perched herself in his lap, straddling his legs and surprising him. "In case you haven't noticed," she continued, "I've grown up quite a bit." She shifted a little, inadvertently grinding against his stiffening cock in the process.

"Believe me, Y/N.” Rafe groaned. “I've noticed."

His eyes traveled from her face and down her body, pausing to gaze at her nipples that were poking fiercely through the thin fabric of the tiny tank top.

"I've noticed a lot about you lately.” He continued, suddenly determined to see where this would go. "You're not as innocent as everyone seems to think, are you?" His voice low and husky now, his hands resting on her bare thighs.

Y/N giggled a little. "Of course I'm sweet and innocent, Rafe. You know what a good girl I am." As she said it, she could feel his hands sliding slowly up the smooth flesh of her thighs, high enough so that his fingers were brushing the legs of her short running shorts.

"See, I don't think you're quite that innocent. I think that's just a front you've been putting on for me, and for everyone else on this island. I think," Rafe paused for a moment, "that you're just dying for someone to give you exactly what you want. Am I wrong?"

As he spoke, Rafe could feel his cock stiffening, straining against the material of his boxer briefs and his shorts.

When she didn't respond, Rafe prodded, "Y/N? Am I wrong?"

Y/N looked at him then, staring into his eyes and what he saw there was pure lust. Seeing that, he knew he could continue, and he let his hands continue to stroke her upper thighs, moving higher now until his hands disappeared beneath her shorts. Rafe let one long finger slide towards the middle and was surprised when his fingertip touched silky smooth flesh, no barrier of panties to be found.

Eyebrows raised, Rafe teased her again. "No panties? You really aren't the innocent girl we all thought you were, are you?"

Her eyes sparkled and she moaned softly, already trying to press against his finger. Determined to tease her, however, Rafe pulled his finger away from her mound and removed his hands from her shorts. She immediately stuck out her lower lip in a little girl pout, and he burst out laughing.

"Those little girl antics aren't gonna work anymore, Y/N.” He said. "You're going to have to tell me what you want." She looked at him, surprised. "I'll give you anything you want, but you have to ask for it."

When she didn't say anything he continued, "There's nothing sexier than a girl who knows what she wants. And something tells me that you know exactly what you want. So, you just name it, baby.”

Y/N smiled and removed herself from Rafe’s lap, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs to her bedroom. She fell onto her bed, taking him with her, and immediately kissed him.

Shifting, she was soon on her back with him above her, pushing her hips up into his. He smiled against her lips, knowing that she was trying to avoid having to ask, but also suspecting that pushing her would only make it more enjoyable for both of them.

Rafe dragged his lips away from hers and propped himself up on his elbow beside her. He left his free hand on her hip, his fingers idly playing with the waistband of her shorts.

"What do you want, Y/N?" He asked again softly, watching her face.

She looked away for a moment, and when she looked back at Rafe, her eyes were begging. "I just want you to touch me.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at him with those big, pleading eyes.

While it was a start, Rafe was convinced now that the innocence was an act and he wanted her to prove him right. "I am touching you, right here.” He said, as he tapped his finger against her hip.

He looked at her pointedly, waiting for her response. She didn't say anything, however, and instead just grabbed his wrist and in one fast motion brought his hand to her breast.

"Right here, you dumbass.” Y/N muttered, her hand still on his wrist as if holding his hand in place.

"Oh, right here.” Rafe feigned surprise and an innocence of his own, but immediately gave a gentle squeeze and let his fingers find her nipple. It wasn't difficult to do; the hard little bud had been poking through her shirt since she changed.

Rafe rolled her nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, and she moaned softly when he gave it a light pinch. He pinched again, causing another moan and her to push her hips up as if she were already fucking an invisible partner. The sight of it turned him on, and when he leaned down to kiss her neck, he could feel his cock growing and becoming rock hard.

Her head fell aside to allow him easier access to her neck as he kissed her, tracing his tongue up to her earlobe which he nibbled on gently. Rafe continued pinching and tugging on her nipples, each one of her groans causing his cock to twitch helplessly.

"You like that, baby?" Rafe groaned against her neck and pinching her nipple harder, causing her to let out a long low moan. He chuckled to himself as he did the same with the other one, loving her sounds of pleasure.

"What else would you like? What are you dying for?" He prodded, himself dying to know what turned her on the most.

Y/N looked up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, and slowly sat up. "I'll show you what I want right now.” She said, her voice low and husky with arousal.

She smiled slowly, slipping off the bed. For a brief moment, Y/N pulled Rafe to his feet, her eyes locked on his as if she had control of the situation. Without hesitating, she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and brought them down, leaving him in his boxer briefs which did nothing to hide his erection.

Gently, she pushed him back down on the bed, so he was sitting on its edge, and slowly knelt on the floor in front of him as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Positioning herself between his knees, Y/N smiled at him again, letting her hands work their way up his legs, letting her gaze fall on his twitching cock as her hands traveled closer.

Slowly, one hand traveled over the thin cotton of the leg, moving upwards until finally she let her fingers brush over his cock. She watched Rafe’s face as her fingers tentatively explored his hardness. When she wrapped a small fist around it for the first time, he groaned, pushing against her hand eagerly.

Y/N leaned in slowly, brushing her cheek along his inner thigh, her hand still between his legs. She grabbed the waistband of his shorts and he lifted obediently, and within moments they were gone. She leaned back on her heels for a moment, gazing up at him. She'd fantasized for so long and had wanted him for years.

Rafe’s hand on her face brought her back to reality. "What're you thinking, sweetheart?" Rafe asked her softly, looking down at her and watching her stare at him.

Y/N faltered for a moment, then laughed a little. “I was thinking about how long I've wanted this.” She admitted, blushing and looking a little sheepish.

Rafe grinned down at her and was about to tell her she could have anything she wanted, but the words never escaped his lips because she stopped pacing herself, leaning forward and taking half of his cock into her mouth in one quick motion. The shock of it, combined with the amazing feeling of her warm mouth and silky smooth tongue almost made Rafe lose it right there.

Forcing himself to regain composure, Rafe leaned back slightly, enjoying the feeling as she worked on him. He’d wondered what this would be like for quite some time now, and it thrilled him that the reality was even better than his fantasies. He had always thought she would be good, but he hadn't expected her to be this good.

Rafe looked down at her and watched her for a moment, holding her head and guiding her occasionally.

"You're an amazing little cocksucker, Y/N." Rafe groaned, and immediately felt her react to his words by taking him deeper, slowly sliding him all the way into her throat.

With her lips at the base, Y/N kept tightening her throat and making him almost lose it before relaxing again. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her. He felt himself getting even closer when he looked back into hers. He kept thinking of what a sweet and innocent girl she pretended to be, when in fact she was sucking him off better than any girl ever had before.

"I'm so close.” Rafe groaned, wanting her to know in case she wanted to stop.

Y/N surprised him again, however, when instead of stopping, she only worked harder, sucking and sneaking her tongue out to tease his balls with the tip. Suddenly, he was cumming harder than he had in a long time and she swallowed all of it, smiling up at him afterwards. He chuckled and pulled her up to the bed with him.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N." Rafe said softly. "You’re pretty fucking good at that.”

Y/N grinned and blushed, shrugging her shoulders. He loved the way the color rose in her cheeks as if she were suddenly aware that she had just proven him right, that she wasn't quite so innocent at all, but was still going to cling to the facade.

Pulling her a little closer, Rafe turned her head towards him and leaned down, kissing her. She kissed him back, opening her lips and sneaking her tongue out to meet his. Slowly, he pulled away and moved his kisses to her neck, and as he did he brought his hand up to her breasts again. He teased her nipples again with his fingers, loving to watch her squirm beneath his touch.

Y/N caught his mouth again with hers, and they parted as he tugged her tank top over her head with one hand, still stroking her pussy with the other. He gazed down at those tits that he'd been watching all summer in her bathing suit. He'd been making them hard all summer through her suit and he knew it, and loved the way they just seemed to get stiffer, now exposed to his hungry gaze.

Rafe couldn't resist; he tore his mouth from hers and eagerly leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth, immediately sucking on it, experimenting to discover just what she liked. When he grazed his teeth on it, Y/N moaned loudly and pushed eagerly against his hand, the heat from her pussy penetrating through the thin material of her shorts.

He teased her by pushing his hand back against her harder, which she loved, and then taking it away so he was barely touching her at all, making her whimper and squirm, trying to get it back. Moving his lips to her other nipple, Rafe slid his hand inside her shorts now, immediately finding the bare flesh that he had been dying for since he discovered it earlier.

Rafe found her dripping and smiled, knowing that he was definitely having an effect on her. As he nibbled her nipple, he found her clit and circled it slowly with one finger, loving the way she sighed and let her eyes shut. He continued to tease her, making tighter circles on her clit and feeling her tense up, then backing off again.

Gently, Rafe eased her backwards on her bed, laying her down flat. He reached for her shorts and she immediately lifted her ass up to allow them to come off, making him smile down at her.

"Not such a good girl, now are you, princess?" Rafe asked, and she smiled a little in return.

"Fuck being good.” She replied as he finished removing her shorts.

"I'd rather fuck you instead.” Rafe said softly, his voice low and gravely with desire.

"I know.” She replied, looking a little smug but incredibly hot as she laid on her bed naked, yearning for him.

Rafe moved up over her, kissing her lips again and letting her feel his weight above her. His cock had started stiffening again already, and she could feel it brush against her. Instinctively, she began pushing her hips up against it, wanting it. He grinned down at her.

"Not just yet, Y/N. Don’t be so greedy.” Rafe said softly, kissing down her neck and over her collar bone.

His lips found her nipples again and he began to nibble and suck, being rough and gentle as he was before since he quickly realized that's what she loved. He felt her shift slightly and as he moved to the other nipple he was surprised to see that she had snuck her own hand to her pussy, and was gently teasing her clit with a finger.

Rafe smiled, a little surprised and completely turned on to see her touching herself, and sucked even harder for a moment on her breast. He moved downwards until he was kissing her belly button and still moving lower. He touched her hand with his own.

“Mind if I help you with that?" Rafe whispered, and she immediately took her hand away and pushed her pussy towards him.

For a moment, he paused, gazing down at her and admiring her. Her pussy lips were puffy from arousal and her clit was hard and begging for attention. Rafe leaned down and kissed her right above her clit, letting his lower lip just brush against the hood and listening to her gasp. She wriggled towards him, her swollen bud aching for the release she knew his tongue could give her.

Rafe kissed her again, then very slowly licked down one pussy lip and up the other, letting then back down her slit again. The feeling of her wetness on his tongue only pushed him further, and he couldn't tease her anymore.

He slowly slid a finger inside her, immediately surprised at how tight she was. Still licking her clit, Rafe slowly slid in a second finger, causing her to buck against his face and hand and grip the sheets tighter. Stroking her slowly with his fingers, he continued to lick and suck her swollen clit, knowing that she was close.

When he slid his fingers in deep and pressed them against her G-spot, Y/N groaned loudly and pressed back on them hard. Keeping his fingers buried in her cunt, Rafe stroked her G-spot faster, her cries and gasps becoming louder and more intense. He felt her push hard against his fingers and suddenly, her pussy tightened and he could feel her orgasm as her cunt clamped down and her body trembled.

When Y/N relaxed, Rafe laid on the bed beside her, smiling down at her and waiting for her eyes to open. He kissed her lips, and it was then that her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him in surprise, and maybe a little embarrassment.

"I can taste myself on your lips.” Y/N said softly, as if it was something she had never thought about before. It amused him, the little bits of innocence that were real, paired with the lust that was obviously burning hot inside her although she kept it hidden.

As they laid together, her hand seemed to seek out his cock again which was still hard; he had been surprised how much it aroused him to eat her pussy, how much it turned him on when she came hard on his hand. She stroked the flesh gently, and kept glancing down at it until finally Rafe caught her.

He grinned, that grin that always made her insides melt and made her want him more than ever. "You like my cock, don't you, Y/N?" He teased her, pushing his cock against her palm.

"You have no idea.” She replied, that wanton look returning to her eyes.

"Show me, then.” Rafe challenged her.

Immediately, Y/N shifted to a sitting position and then crawled over him so that he was on his back and she was straddling his hips. She looked down at him, brushing her pussy against his hard shaft. His hands were on her hips, trying to guide her down on it. But she resisted, continually pulling away but not quite letting him enter her. This time, she caught Rafe staring down, admiring the view.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Y/N taunted, letting her warm slit slide up and down his cock, driving him crazy.

His eyes were wild, and she knew he was having a hard time resisting the urge to force her down on top of his cock, but she was having fun teasing him. Y/N surprised him as she slid upwards again and finally felt the head of his cock press against her opening. Rafe groaned loudly as her pussy clenched repeatedly around his thick head, attempting to adjust to him.

Y/N inched her way down, feeling an intense pleasure go through her body. Once settled, she let her eyes connect with his and smiled almost shyly, and looked down to see the spot where their bodies were melded together. She couldn't resist anymore and began to grind hard on his cock, wanting him deeper.

Rafe flipped her roughly onto her back and he moved up over her again. She started pushing her hips upwards, impatient for him. He pressed against her and she pushed back, her slippery lips seeming to suck him in until he was once again deep inside her. It seemed the more he gave her the more she wanted.

As Y/N pushed her hips up against him, she pulled her legs up a little and Rafe took the hint. He smiled down at her as he guided her legs up further until her ankles were resting on his shoulders. With her legs up, he could get even deeper now, and he didn’t hesitate to do so.

When he pushed his cock all the way in, Y/N immediately arched up into him, moaning sexily. He began to pump in and out of her a bit quicker, and with each stroke she met him, gasping each time the head of his dick slammed into the back of her tight cunt.

Rafe could tell she was getting close, so he backed off for a minute, sliding his cock almost all the way out of her and leaving just the head of it between her wet pussy lips. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him, her eyes begging to have it back. She kept trying to push her hips towards him in an attempt to have her way, but it was his turn to tease her now, and he loved watching her struggle beneath him.

"Please, Rafe.” Her voice trailed off as she looked up at him helplessly, still bucking beneath him.

Rafe looked down and loved what he saw: her pussy puffy, his cock between the wet lips, and her clit, swollen and hard. He reached down and touched the little nub, causing her to shake beneath him.

Grinning, he did it again and again, teasing her with his finger and loving the way she trembled with passion and moaned, almost sobbing with pleasure. He took his hand away from her mound and grabbed her hand, guiding it to where his just was.

"I want to watch you touch yourself, Y/N.” Rafe said softly, thinking of the vibrator he’d found earlier and the way she’d been teasing her clit before he had gone down on her, knowing that she was familiar with herself.

Rafe thought she would hesitate, but was pleased when she immediately started stroking her clit with her middle finger expertly, pushing against his cock even harder now. The sight of it was too much for him and he couldn't tease her anymore.

As she stroked her clit, he slid his cock slowly back into her, feeling her clench around him. She was tightening rhythmically with every flick of her finger against her swollen bud, and he knew he was going to lose it soon.

"What do you want, baby?" Rafe groaned, holding his dick deep inside her and feeling her grinding against it.

Y/N looked up at him, and there was no longer even a trace of the innocent act left. Her eyes were full of lust and want, her body moving against his, trying to grind against him as much as she could. And when she spoke, it was all he could take.

"Rafe," Y/N said in her husky voice. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me cum harder than I ever have before. I'm so close right now, and I need you to make me cum.” She let her voice trail off, and he didn't waste any time in obeying her request.

Rafe pulled out a little bit and held her legs apart a bit more, and without warning slammed his rock hard cock back inside her. He pounded her again and again and she groaned with each stroke, feeling her orgasm building fast. Y/N worked her clit and reached around with her free hand, stroking his balls as they slapped against her ass.

Y/N was teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and with one final thrust he pushed her over. She cried out as her pussy tightened, and she pushed up hard against it, feeling it deeper than ever. When she tightened like that, Rafe couldn't hold back either. Within seconds, he was cumming deep inside her.

This seemed to only intensify her orgasm and she somehow clamped even tighter around him, and for a brief moment it felt like this would last forever. When their orgasms subsided, Rafe collapsed on the bed next to her, still able to hear her labored breathing. He smiled, satisfied and hoping for another round later.

As if reading his thoughts, Y/N propped herself up on her elbow and grinned at him. "You just wait.” She breathily giggled. "Next time will be even better.”

TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @pankowperfection @blueicequeen19 @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @drewsuncrustables @dreamingwithrafe @obaex @mvybanks @rafescokewhore @geniedetails

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joseline-woodhouse · 6 months

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Okay I have to say it.

Will, Ada and Montresor did something way worse than Annabel Lee.

Why? Because motive matters. Now don't get me wrong, a good motive cannot justify an inherently evil action, it however matters more and more when going deeper into more morally grey areas.

Annabel has made it very clear she understands these people, including Duke to be damned regardless of her actions and basically sees herself confronted with a trolley problem that goes: "You, your wife and like X other people are bound to rails. A trolly will run over all but one of you. However if you pull just the right levers, both you end your wife will survive. The first lever you must pull is on Duke." While this doesn't make her actions noble, it gives them a noble cause and one could argue in several ways that she's acting within a moral grey area if we take the situation to be as unshakable as it seems. To make to examples, one could argue in an utalitarian way (this saves more lives than the other option) or in a very human way (this saves a loved one at the cost of a soon to be dead man, who could blame her?). There are also concepts of morality that would condemn her, like for example the categoric imperative or Jewish or Christian (and I think Muslim) religion, in which it is inherently bad to kill a single person even to safe thousands of others.

Annabel considers killing Duke a necessary evil.

Montresor however is acting out of pure sadism and spite and he puts on quite a show to make this clear. He had done so even if he believed everyone would get a happy end and he is having the time of his life killing Duke. That is picture book chaotic evil behaviour right there and by no means redeemable.

Will and Ada? Arguably worse than Montresor, at least not a bit better. This is the kind of stuff that makes large scale modern genocides possible. Hannah Ahrendt (great woman, you should look her up) argues in her book "Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil" that evil at its worst is not some kind of demonic evil like it has been preached in medieval times, but lays within the sheer banality of an office worker casually doing the phone calls and paper work necessary to send thousands to their certain death, while the office worker goes back home, eats dinner with his family and thinks "I'm just doing my job. It's my supervisors moral responsibility, not mine."

Ada and Will tried to kill for no other reason than because they have been told to do so and the lack of willingness to accept responsibility really shows in their actions afterwards. So I am a bit confused when I see people arguing how terrible Annabel Lee is while defending the "poor boy Will".

So, controversial opinion: in this very specific case, even though Annabel Lee either started this or at the very least didn't stop it when she clearly could have, she hasn't committed anything as immoral as her henchmen committed, who did not even need a motive to kill.

Also I would every day prefer an Annabel Lee willing to kill Duke to safe her wife in the long run over an Annabel Lee that prefers to not be a controversial female character. Let's not forget these people don't actually exist.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee whitlock #montresor nevermore #will nevermore #ada nevermore #annabel lee #annabel lee nevermore #annabel nevermore #nevermore

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gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield · 1 year

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Here's what you missed on Hatchetfield...

Okay so Nerdy Prudes Must Die is happening in a month's time and I'm aware that lots of people who enjoyed guy who didn't like musicals and black friday might not have had time to watch nightmare time. While Nick has said this musical will be fully stand alone and no knowledge of nightmare time is required, nonetheless some of you might be curious about what we've learned that might come up

Presenting a tldr lore drop for nightmare time:

1) Wiggly has brothers (aka the Lords in Black)

You remember Wiggly from black friday? That ugly green little fucker? Well turns out he has brothers. They call themselves the Lords in black because they're pretentious little fucks and they all have different 'powers'.

Itemised list

Pokey (pokotho) - mind control type stuff, likes to make hiveminds

Wiggly (Wiggog Y'wrath) - idk you saw black friday whatever the fuck goes on there

Blinky (blinklotep) - massive eye, likes watching things

Tinky (T'noy karaxis) - fucks with time

Nibbly (nibblenephem) - massive mouth, eats shit

You've actually met Pokey before - remember the blue shit from guy who didn't like musicals? That's the same blue shit leaking out of the cracks in pokey's face in the picture above.

They also have a sister called Webby that I believe Hannah references in Black Friday. We don't know much about her but thus far she seems like a good guy

2) Grace Chasity is a nerdy prude

Remember the girl Bill is trying to set Alice up in guy who didn't like musicals because 'at least she's nice to him in church'?

Well turns out Alice was right. Grace Chasity is a nerdy prude. And also coincidentally one of the main characters of Nerdy Prudes Must Die (to be played by Angela Giarratana).

We meet her in nightmare time 2 (episode 2 part 2) which takes place at a religious camp designed to educate people about the perils of pre marital sex.

Grace Chasity is, well she's many things, but she is very much the stereotype of an American evangelical Christian. She even showers with a swimming costume on so as not to tempt herself into sin.

Despite all this, however, she is a devious motherfucker who will absolutely fuck you up

3) You remember Ted from guy who didn't like musicals...

Well not only are he and the homeless guy the same person (time travel, its a whole thing, blame the yellow guy from the Lords in black photo)

But also we learn that his surname is Spankoffski (because of course it is) and he has a 'nerdy little brother' called Pete Spankoffski who will be one of the leads in nerdy prudes. In nightmare time he's played by Nick Lang but in nerdy prudes he'll be played by Joey Richter

We meet Pete in nightmare time 2 (episode 2 part 2) but we've actually met him before in guy who didn't like musicals. You remember hot chocolate boy? The one who had very low blood sugar?

Yup you guessed it that is one Peter Spankoffski

(If you've been super out of the loop and are wondering why he was recast and for that matter where the heck is Robert anyway just trust that that is a whole thing im not going to get into and it's for the best he's gone)

4) Meet the Lauters

Two more characters who have been announced for NPMD who we met in nightmare time 2 are Stephanie Lauter (Mariah Rose Faith) and her father Solomon Lauter (Corey Dorris)

Steph is actually pretty nice and chill on the inside but definitely has a reputation for being a bit of a party animal/wild child.

This isn't helped by her father who is the mayor of hatchetfield and from what little we see of him will always put his career before his daughter.

Steph and Pete hook up in nightmare time so look out for a possible romance between these two

5) What the fuck is a Holloduke?

You may have seen the word 'holloduke' batted a lot around this fandom lately which refers to the ship of two characters that we've been introduced to through nightmare time.

While it's unclear if either of them will appear in nerdy prudes, given that both Kim and Curt are in the cast and they go a long way out of their way in nightmare time to show Kim's character getting a job at Hatchetfield High in set up for *something* a lot of people think there's a good chance she at least will be appearing.

The Hollo of these characters is called Miss Holloway although at the end of nightmare time she ends up ret conning herself and is forced to assume a new identity as Miss Holiday so if we meet her in nerdy prudes that will likely be her name. She is a witch who has a deep love for all things 80s. We don't know a huge amount about her but that might be because she's cursed(?) so that anything she reveals about her backstory will be instantly wiped from the mind of the listener.

Curts character is an ordinary social worker called Duke who among other things works with Hannah and Lex when they're having troubles with their mum. He's in love with Miss Holloway/Holiday, and it's reciprocated, but due to the curse(?) et al things keep not quite working out for them.

They're both absolutely wonderful people who deserve the world and are absolute OTP fodder

6) The Gift

We don't know a huge amount about this yet but we do know that some people in Hatchetfield, notably including Hannah from black friday have something called 'the gift' which gives them some loose powers

Most people grow out of the gift as they go through puberty, for instance Lex also used to have it, but they may be able to use it in some scenarios (such as manifesting a firearm from the black and white as Lex does in Black Friday)

People with the gift were historically persecuted in Hatchetfield by a group of people called 'the hatchet men' who may or may not have turned them into trees(?)

7) The Black Book

There is a book of spells called the black book which Miss Holloway/Holiday uses to do her magic

#starkid #hatchetfield #guy who didnt like musicals #tgwdlm #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #black friday #nightmare time

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eliluvschan · 4 months

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Blame it on the Mistletoe

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 904

warnings: -

genre: fluff

a/n: Merry Christmas everyone <3

i stormed out of my house and into my car after a bad fight with my boyfriend, Sung-ho. i am furious at him. he comes home very late, every night, drunk as hell. then shouts at me for nothing in the morning, and other than that i'm gonna break up with him anyway, because i think i'm in love with someone else. but that someone doesn't know i like him and as far as i know, he doesn't like me back either.

i slammed the door shut and drove over to Bang Chan's house. my best friend for over fifteen years. he's been by my side since we met and probably cares about me more than that piece of shit known as my so-called boyfriend.

we met when we went to the same elementary school until he moved to Korea when he was thirteen and always comes back to Australia around Christmas to be with his family.

i parked my car in the driveway and got out, breathing in the cold air, and then shivering. i grabbed my present from the backseat and tightened my muffler from around my neck. i made my way to the front door and knocked. he invited me to Christmas dinner with his dongsaengs. like every year. the door opened, revealing Hannah.

she smiled at me, before he attacked me in a hug. ''Y/n! i missed you so much!'' he squeaked out. ''i missed you too, Han. how have you been?''

''good, i just debuted and i'm excited for what's more to come!'' she says as we walk further into the house. we talk some more as she takes my coat and we walk through the hallway to the living room.

i follow him to see a beautiful tree decorated with everything. it looked perfect. except the golden star at the top was missing. and under the tree stood Chan himself. one hand on his hip and the other holding the star as he looked up.

''Channie!'' i called. he turned around, smiled hugely and scooped me into his arms. ''i missed you!'' he said. ''i missed you too! 4 months went by too slow!'' i pout as he laughs. i smile at his adorable laugh and his beautiful brown eyes sparkled. in case you haven't figured out, Chan is the person i'm in love with.

''Hey, Y/n!''

i turn around and hug the rest of the Bang's. they are like family to me and i love them all so damn much. Chan turned to me. ''hey, can you help me with this?'' he held up the last piece of decor. the star.

''sure, what do you want me to do?''

''get on my shoulders and put this up please?'' he asked.

i looked at him. ''o- okay.'' i said reluctantly taking the star from his hand. he grabbed my waist and lifted me on his shoulders. i felt a chill run down my spine as his chin brushed against my thigh. i put the star up as Hannah and Lucas cheered.

he put me down and thanked me. i smiled at him and went to help Mama Bang set up dinner.

—❀—

Jack, Jessica, Lucas and Hannah were still in the kitchen. doing the dishes, putting stuff back whatever. Chan and i were sitting in the lounge, staring at the tree.

''i'm gonna break it with Sung-ho.'' i told him.

''really?'' is it just me or did i really hear hope in his voice. ''why?''

''he- he treats me like shit. comes home drunk every night, shouts, and does a lot of other things.''

''he doesn't hit you does he?'' he picked up my preset from under the tree.

''nope. not yet anyway.'' i told him as he shook it, trying to figure out what it was.

he opened it, and took the beanie i had gotten for him. he made a duck face. ''yeah, i like it too.'' i laughed. ''where's mine dork?''

he put a finger on his lips. ''shh.''

we sat in silence for a while.

''Y/n?''

''hmm?''

''come here.'' he said standing up and bringing me close to the tree. ''make a wish?''

i looked up at him. ''what?'' he asked. ''hey, it's Christmas. don't be a joy-killer.''

i shrugged and closed my eyes. 'i wish the idiot next to me would like me more than a friend'.

i opened my eyes to see Chan standing very close to me, smiling softly. he pulled me closer to him by the waist and backed into the wall behind me. he smiled at the ceiling. i looked up and saw it as well. mistletoe.

i smiled back at him and then i don't know what made me do it, but i leaned on my toes and pressed my lips to his. i slowly kissed back, pulling me closer to him. i pulled away and rested my head in his neck. he rested on top of mine.

''i love you, Y/n.'' he whispered quietly. i just smiled and kissed his cheek. who knew wishes came true this soon? he kissed my forehead. ''what are we gonna tell the others?''

''i, uh.'' he looked around, we were still pressed against the wall. he looked up to where the mistletoe was hung and his expression cleared. he looked down at me.

''we'll blame it on the mistletoe.''

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #bang chan fluff #skz x yn #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios

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ace7librarian · 3 months

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Hatchetfield Jewish headcanons!

Based on surnames and some unrelated headcanons.

*After Jane died, Tom really wanted to keep the Jewish traditions for Tim, but he had zero clue what to do, so he called Emma. She also had no idea what to do, but she tried her best.

*Ruth and Richie make fun of Pete for being the only goy in the squad. Everyone just assume he's Jewish, and that makes him really confused. Also, Ruth unironically ships Tanakh characters.

*Shapiro has a Jewish dad and a Catholic mom, so she got the Jewish surname and the Catholicism. She breaks the glass in her and miss mullberry's wedding. Miss mullberry is also Jewish.

*at one timeline Steph finds Solomon with the black book or something and blames him for encouraging the stereotype that Jews worship Satan.

*Dan Reynolds is Jewish. I have no reason for this.

*the following conversation happened at some point.

Emma: and I'm not going to let some republican, Christian old man-

Bob Metzger, offended: Christian????

Emma: ....

Bob: there's ONE synagogue. How did you never see me there???

Emma: I was smoking outside???

Bob: we're a big family! My grandchildren were outside! Our last name is Metzger!!

Emma: ....sorry. A republican old man.

Bob: there you go.

*Karen Chasity is very upset about having Solomon lauter as a mayor. Sam sweetly as well. I just know these two would want a Christian mayor.

*Daniel/stopwatch invites the other kids to celebrate Jewish holidays with him. Sophia melts some candlesticks and Hannah starts having visions when they read the Haggadah, but they still had a great time.

Characters that deserve an honourable mention:

The spankoffskis sound very Jewish, but we know ted is a Christian, and they both went to a Christian summer camp.

Linda says "mensch", but with the implications of the rich bitch being Jewish? No thanks. Plus she has way too much Christian symbolism in her character. My headcanon is that she heard Jews were controlling the media so she started using Yiddish slang to look richer. I'm sorry, but she would.

I love Gary Goldstein, but he is a walking stereotype.

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calehenituse-brainrot · 11 months

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Memories

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

It's weird to see someone's privacy with the faces of your family and friends.

content warning: self-harm, mentally abusive figures, blood, gore.

Hope was a dangerous thing.

Even though your name is already carved onto a stone and you've been officially declared dead, Cage did not want to give hope. In fact, she would be fine if everyone just continue grieving and never know anything.

It has been a month now.

The three Saints try to figure out the contents of your letter, keeping the details between the three of them and Ron, asking him to keep the letter a secret until they could figure out what exactly happened right under their nose. It still boggled their mind how you had been experiencing such odd symptoms of whatever this was and never spoke a word of it, despite how you were getting constantly hurt. They had known you were stubborn, but it was ridiculous to know it was to this extent.

It has been a month but nothing had resulted in their research about you that could provide a good explanation for why you disappeared. The workers from the Henituse duchy they talked to had spoken of your frequent dizzy spells and nosebleeds a few weeks before your death and the workers at the Palace had said the same. One of the knights on guard on a certain day had seen how much you had bled through your nostrils and nearly passed out when he held you.

Cage paced in her room while Jack and Hannah sat on the couch. Jack seemed to be deep in thought while Hannah seemed irked, leaning back to the couch as she closed her eyes and try to use her brain and try to figure out what exactly was wrong with you before your death. Cage bit on her nails as she paced back and forth, growing anxious by the minute every time she let her gaze fleets to your letter that sat on the table.

"Hearing voices, headaches, nosebleeds," Cage murmured as she paced back and forth, listing the things you mentioned having experienced. "She said they sounded very familiar. Like someone from the past life. Could it be someone from her life before she met Young Master-nim?"

Cage runs a hand through her dark hair, shaking her head. "No, no, wait. It doesn't matter. How would a person talk to someone like that?"

"Cage, could you please stop that?!" Hannah finally snapped, her head buzzing as she listened to Cage's mumblings. "I'm trying to think here!"

Cage did not seem offended by Hannah's tone. In fact, she was very familiar with it and she could not blame the swordswoman as they were all on edge and were using the last of their energy to think.

"It is a God," Jack concluded, almost grimly as he closed his eyes in defeat, finally addressing the elephant in the room. "There is no other explanation."

"What God?!" Cage challenged the idea immediately. She did not want to shut down that theory, however, she would like it best if it was the least possible event. Because Gods are tricky. They are mischievous in their deals and selfish in how they viewed humans. 'We are nothing to them,' Cage thought, knowing just how puny they must look, how ridiculous they look to the Gods, scrambling to find out more about the events that had befallen their late friend, while the Gods lean back to their throne made up of worship and sacrifices, laughing because they know.

"The voice told her to leave us and promised a reward," says Jack calmly. "It told her how she could find her if she sailed away from the continent. She finds him, she finds herself."

"She's not that important to a God," Cage says, almost bitterly. She did not think lowly of you -- oh, by Gods, never -- but even though she was considered special because the God of Death communicates directly talks to her, Cage still knows her place to an extent. She might have been dearly beloved by her lord, but she knew she was nothing but human, divine powers or not. She is powerful, a drunk, and she is still human. She is small in the eyes of her lord.

Were you that important that a God had killed so many people in that ship just to get you?

"Perhaps not to the ones we know of," Jack says slowly.

Cage's eyes flickered quickly up to Jack, taking a moment to process his words. "You think another God is approaching her."

"More like fooling her," Hannah piped in. "He promised her something and look where she is now."

"Hannah," Jack says firmly, almost in a berating way. Hannah looked away from her twin, speaking harshly, "Her name's on a stone now."

"If this is the work of a God..." Cage began, trailing off as she massaged the bridge of her nose.

"Divine intervention is tricky," she says softly, nearing the table where your letter is placed on. "It is usually best to be left alone."

Do not give hope. It is dangerous.

Cage closed her eyes, inhaling a big gulp of air before exhaling. Do not give hope. You will only hurt them all.

Cage snatched the letter from the table, walking out of her room.

"Cage...?" Jack called out, standing up immediately to follow the dark-haired woman. Hannah fixed the strap of her sword properly before she followed Cage as well.

The Sun twins then immediately realized where Cage was walking to and they glanced at each other, both questioning if this was the right thing to do. They walked past your room and then came upon the floor that leads upstairs, following Cage as she practically stomped her way up.

"Young Master-nim!" Cage exclaimed, stepping into Cale's floor and immediately heading towards his bed where he was sleeping even though it was one in the fucking afternoon. Cage grabbed the covers Cale had on and shook him awake. "Young Master-nim, wake up!"

Jack and Hannah stood not far from them, watching as Cale fluttered his eyes open, no doubt tired because they all know he had made a trip to your room again last night. He tries to gather his bearings, looking up at Cage with a small frown, feeling light-headed after being shaken awake.

"W-what the...?" Cale began when Cage finally lets go of him.

"Young Master-nim," Cage says, forcing herself to smile at him. "Divine intervention is tricky. It is usually best to be left alone."

Cale still looked loopy as he tries to digest Cage's words. "Okay...?"

"But not if it's you," Cage says, pushing the letter to Cale's chest. "Here's another letter for you to cry yourself to."

Cale caught the letter, staring at it with bleary eyes. He rubbed his eyes as he held the letter properly, trying his best to read it. Once he got a clear view of the letter, he stopped rubbing his eyes, brown eyes gazing at the familiar handwriting, writing down a series of words he had never seen before in all his days of grieving. Cale used both hands to hold the letter, straightening out the wrinkles that had appeared because Cage had shoved it to his chest.

Cale's eyes quickly scan over the words, having to read them multiple times as he had trouble processing the contents because he seemed to have focused more on the fact that this was something he had never read of before. He had held dearly every single thing you have, and the fact that this was something he did not know of made his head spin. In his head, he seemed to be scrambling because there is more of you that he did not know of, that he had yet discovered. His face stayed stoic as he reads your letter and he wondered again and again at that moment, why wasn't this in his letter? Why didn't you tell him about this?

Cale rubs his face before he looks up at Cage. "How long have you had this with you?"

Cage gazed at Cale's tired brown eyes. "A month."

Cale then noticed the Sun Twins standing not far away, watching him anxiously and he turned back to Cage again, "The three of you kept this to yourselves for a month."

"We apologize," Jack immediately began, stepping closer. "We simply didn't want to give hope."

"This--" Cale raised the letter, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "This isn't hope. It's a lead. It's clarity."

"It would have given hope to you," Hannah piped in with a frown. "And if not you, then the kids."

Cale stood from the bed, standing in front of the three of them. He raised the letter to them again. "I'm keeping this and we're going to talk about this with the others."

"You know best," Cage says, nodding her head.

Cale rubs his face before he placed the letter inside the drawer of his bedside table. "Now leave. I need to wash up."

We shouldn't be hoping, is what Cale thought to himself when everyone gathered together and sits down, each one of them talking to each other animatedly.

'They've all moved on,' Cale thought to himself, watching how everyone had no longer looked sad, their eyes no longer sunken with eyebags, their bodies energized and no longer looking pale like they used to months ago. 'I am still here.'

'It is selfish,' Cale accused himself. He never minded grieving for long periods in silence -- it's always been the one thing constant about his life. He grieved in silence and alone, letting the deaths of his companions be the ones to push him to learn, to be better.

Your name is on the list of people he had lost and he had been trying to let his brain settle with that fact, but it is hard. His brain always seemed to be on overdrive, Records constantly making him confused between the memories and the present. He still remembered so vividly of your smile, how you look, how you sound--sometimes he hears your voice and it drives him nuts that it turned out to be his mind playing tricks on him because Records never forget. He never forgets.

When he remembered, it felt like it was happening at the current time and the only reason why Cale hadn't gone mad was because he constantly remind himself; That person is dead. That time had passed.

"Cale-nim?" Choi Han finally called towards the redhead, seeing how Cale sat on the single couch while looking to be deep in thought, holding a letter in his hand.

Cale looked up and saw that everyone was staring at him expectantly. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw you in this myriad of odd people but he reminds himself again; that person is dead and that time had passed.

Cale sat up straight and properly. "Let this be known that what I am about to tell you is merely to provide some explanation, not to give you hope," he began. "Nor is it to open old wounds."

The others stared at him, waiting for his next words with bated breath. What could this be about?, is what runs through all of their minds, but seeing the look in Cale's eyes, they have a small inkling.

"I would like to tell you all about the reason why [Name] boarded that ship," Cale says slowly, still holding the letter in his hand. It did not escape from him how the atmosphere in the room immediately shifted. Most of their expressions were somber, some avoiding eye contact by looking down at their own hands as if they had done some irreparable sin. Deep down, there is guilt for moving on, that they were able to continue their lives and gradually began to visit a certain memorial less and less.

"[Name]... was not able to find her purpose here," Cale says, the words spilling from his mouth automatically, the gears in his head spinning and working to recall the memories where you had stated your feelings, the words in your letter for him. "She craves for a purpose. And she couldn't find it here."

"That's ridiculous," Rosalyn murmured bitterly, looking away as she leans back to the couch. Rosalyn was still hurt, so badly, and she felt betrayed at the fact that you could not find your purpose here. What does that even mean? You were fine here. You were needed here. You had a job, a home, and a family that loves you.

Cale stared at Rosalyn for a moment. "I know you're hurt. You're not the only one."

While he wasn't berating her for speaking so harshly, it felt like it and Rosalyn shuts her mouth, looking down to the ground with guilt in her gaze. She might have been able to no longer visit your room without feeling a heavy ache in her heart, but she knew Cale was still grieving. It felt so incredibly selfish of her to be so angry to your death when Cale himself did not seem to be angry at all.

"That ship she boarded was supposed to be the start of her journey to find herself," Cale continued. "She didn't board that ship because there were any negotiating or transport problems. She boarded that ship with the intention to leave us all without a goodbye."

It felt eerie to know the ship you believed will take you to many new places eventually took you away to one place they could never reach for. Silence fell into the room as everyone digest this new fact about you. Should they think of you as cruel to want to leave without a goodbye, or should they pity you for your desperation for a purpose?

"This--" Cale raised the letter in his hand, "--is a letter from [Name] addressed to Cage a month ago before her death."

Everyone's gaze lifted to the letter in his hand. Some of them turned to Cage, some surprised, some looking confused. They want to question her about why she hadn't said anything, how could she keep it a secret, but they remember how the letter could have been personal, so they looked back to Cale, Choi Han being the first to ask, "What is it about?"

"It seemed that [Name]'s decision to board that ship wasn't hers alone," Cale revealed, placing the letter on the table in the middle of them all. "She described a voice that talks to her in her head that promised her a purpose if she leaves us all and sails the ship that will take her the furthest from the continent. The voice promised her that if she could find them, she could find herself."

"What?" Rosalyn's eyes widened, shocked at this revelation. She snatched the letter, reading through the content of it with disbelief in her eyes. "Headaches, nosebleeds...?"

"Her experience with the voice is similar to ours when we speak to our lords," Cage began, stepping forward. "However, [Name] seemed to experience effects of communicating with a higher being more severely, most likely because either she isn't used to it or she is weaker than most of us."

"A God," Choi Han murmured with a frown. "A God reached for her, is that what you're saying?"

"That's the most plausible explanation," Cale replied, caressing his chin thoughtfully. You had been transported here, much like Choi Han. There is a big chance that you were taken away because you had been tampering with a certain God's plans or because they needed a successor. "Which God is the question."

"It is not the God of Death," says Cage with a shake of her head.

Jack shook his head as well. "It is not our lord as well."

"So, another God we aren't familiar with," Cale mused, looking up at the high ceilings of the villa.

'There are many Gods,' says the gluttonous priestess. 'Many are lost in time. What [Name] experienced is what happens when a human isn't suited to be an oracle, to be speaking directly to a higher being. Her body cannot handle the divine presence of a God, no matter how small or big. They are still gods.'

Cale looked at the letter in Rosalyn's hands before he looked up at everyone in the room again. "I will be working to get to the bottom of this issue. I will not force anyone to follow my lead, as I understand her death impacted everyone in this room and beyond. What I will do is simply for... clarity over her behavior. It doesn't bring her back. She is still dead."

"We understand," Lock says, frowning. "Of course, we will follow your lead, Cale-nim."

Cale nodded, standing up from the single couch and his actions were followed by his peers. He looked around the room, his side feeling so barren now that you no longer stood there -- you haven't been there for a month and it kills him every time -- but Cale then addressed them all, "I want you all to begin your search first for any foreign primordial gods, ones that aren't known in the continent or even rejected to be worshipped. That voice -- that God, promised [Name] for salvation if she went far away from the continent, so we start our search with foreign gods that are known to make deals with humans."

Hope is a dangerous thing. Do not give it.

But what else but hope that has solidified every step they took to find the answers they need?

"Divine intervention is tricky," Cale says slowly, taking back your letter from Rosalyn. "It is best to be left alone."

Everyone shared knowing glances with each other at Cale's words and Cage faintly smiled, knowing she had done the right thing to show Cale your letter.

Cale looks up. "But I don't listen to advice like that."

"You really don't," Hannah commented with a grin.

John has always heard the term 'your life flashes before you die' and he finds himself questioning the life that flashes right before his eyes right now was his or not.

Because he sees the face of his late mother -- she was so kind, always dressing up in humble tunics -- standing in a foreign room, dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt, slamming cupboards as she yelled, her voice unfamiliar because it was mixed with someone else's.

"You want to kill yourself?!" His mother yelled in a voice that he had never heard of before, a voice so full of venom and mocking. His mother takes out a knife from a knife block and threw it across the kitchen island, the knife stopping right in front of a young teenage girl that looked so similar to you.

"Go ahead! Don't let me stop you!" His mother's face morphed slightly into someone more unfamiliar as she continued yelling, "Kill yourself!"

John looked down at the young girl that looked so similar to you. Tears ran down your cheeks as you stare at the knife on the kitchen island, eyes unfocused as if you were somewhere else. Your arms are scarred with lines of red angry slits as you stood there, hands slightly shaking as you take in every curse word thrown your way by the woman that seemed to be a morph of his mother and yours.

"Why are you crying?!" The older woman asked, almost in a hysterical manner. "You're making me look bad! You're the bad one. I fed you, gave you clothes on your back, and put you under my roof. I birthed you! You're an ungrateful child!"

He stepped forward, trying to touch your teenage self by the shoulder but his hand immediately went through.

"They are just memories."

John jumped slightly and turned around, the background yelling immediately dimming out. Before him was you, looking older than the last time he saw you. You stared at your teenage self and looked back to John. "They're our memories."

John took a step closer to you and the world around you both immediately faded to white. You smiled at him, taking out your hand to him and he immediately took it. John stared at how your skin is flushed with color, no longer a lifeless pale and you no longer looked in pain. Your hand felt warm in his and he smiled, almost in appreciation to feel something warm for once, his eyes glossy with tears. Your hand gripped his, thumb caressing the back of his hand slowly. "It's okay. It's over. We're not hurt anymore."

"Is this the afterlife, then?" John questioned, looking around the white space around you both as he takes his hand back.

"I don't know," you answered honestly.

The space began to morph back into a room, a tavern that John frequently visits with his crewmates. He smiled, watching how the tavern seemed brimming with people until he realized he does not recognize most of them.

"I've never gone to this tavern," you murmured, looking around.

"I have," John murmured. "I think... this was Kore's birthday party celebration. I don't recognize some of the people here, though."

You looked around the place, familiar faces passing by you as you and John stood still in the middle of the tavern. You took a few moments to identify some of the faces and then spoke softly, "I know these people."

"You do?" John asked, frowning. This was supposed to be his memory, and he recalled perfectly how in this memory that you were not in the tavern nor the people in the tavern right now were present back then.

"That's my mother," you said, pointing to a woman that stood laughing with John. "She has been dead ever since I was eighteen."

A cold chill ran up John's spine at your words. She shouldn't be here. John watched how your mother's face would sometimes morph into one of his crewmates, showing how warped his memories seemed to be and how they were mixing with your memories. John's hand ran through his hair in disbelief, looking around and noticing how his crewmates' faces were morphing back and forth to the faces of people he doesn't recognize, most likely the people from your memories.

You turned to the bar, your eyes staying there for a long time. John then turned around as well and his eyes landed on another you that sat in the bar across him. That other you were drinking away, staring at the bar countertop with an empty gaze, much like how you did when you were a teenager and you were getting screamed at by your mother. With a sip of your drink, you ordered another glass and the bartender nodded obediently, serving you another glass of whatever liquor you were drinking.

You remembered the faint night when you went out to a bar after your mother's death, drinking until you passed out, slumped in a bathroom stall after throwing up so much. It's odd how your memories are warped with John's this way, making it seem like you're drinking in his favorite tavern as if you're celebrating with him in one of his happy memories.

"To be honest," you began, turning away from gazing at your own self. "I don't feel comfortable knowing you will be looking through my memories."

John gave you a chuckle, averting his eyes to respect your feelings. "I don't think I want you to know some bits of my life, too, sweetheart."

You smiled, looking down at the floor. "Do you think there is a reason why we're here...? Why our memories are mixing up like this?"

"I don't know," John says with a defeated sigh.

You and John stood together outside the tavern to get away from the noise, looking up at the night sky together. You both cannot feel the wind or the chilly air. It felt out of place. Both of you were out of place. sometimes the buildings around morph into buildings you recognized from your past life, sometimes switching back to the buildings John knew of. It felt dizzying and so frustrating to see so many changes in a short amount of time.

"We died, didn't we?" You asked him softly, eyes staring down at the cobblestone road beneath you both.

John placed a hand on his stomach, where a gaping hole should be as he remembered the monstrous entity that had asked for your corpse. He doesn't know whether he should tell you that there is a big chance your corpse is being desecrated or not. He looked down at you and gave you a comforting smile, placing his hand on the back of your head to caress your hair. "We're going to be alright."

You hesitantly leaned to his side, tilting your head to his shoulder, looking up at the starry night sky and wondering to yourself if John being here was the world's last kind action it could offer to you after such a tiring life.

Withira emerged from the water, Archie and Paseton following her as the three of them circled the mysterious floating island that have let the current carry it into their territory in their whale forms. She has heard from her father that every couple of hundred years, a floating island would float by their territory and it had been best to be left alone. This was her first time seeing this floating island emerge in her two hundred years of life, having been waiting for a long time for the island to appear because of how much mystery shrouds the island. It has been a couple of minutes of them circling the island, trying to find a spot where they could jump onto to enter the island, but the boulders that surrounds the small island were like a bowl, curling inside as if to protect any intruders from entering.

The fact that there were no beaches and the boulders were acting like some sort of border made Withira even more curious. Was there anyone inside the island? If so, how do they survive without fishing? Do they hunt and rely on the vegetation there? There was a tall tree in the middle of the island, its bark twirling into a swirl as it grew higher than the rest of the trees on the island and the greenery inside the island seemed to flourish, so no doubt there would be plenty of vegetation, however, the island was dead quiet. There are no sounds of animals that could be living on the island.

Withira jumped from the water, morphing from her whale form to her human form once she landed past the boulders. Archie and Paseton followed suit as they looked around the flourishing flora around them, moss and flowers and grass growing everywhere, the trees' roots overgrown on the dirt and breaking through some of the rocks. There were proof of civilizations, as there were crumbling ruins and clay roofs, preserved by nature so perfectly.

"Is everyone dead or something...?" Archie murmured, looking around the island with a frown.

"This could be an ancient, lost civilization," Paseton suggested, looking at his sister who was busy eying up a poorly sculpted boulder not far from them, placed on a pedestal.

Withira approached the sculpture, touching the harch lacerations of the sculpture gently. The sculpture resembled the shape of a flower and despite how poorly it was made, judging by how the stone wore out, Withira could tell it was a sculpture that was well-loved. Withira looked down on the pedestal where the sculpture was made, seeing many trinkets and dry sticks on the ground by her feet, which meant someone had placed offerings by the pedestal a long time ago and it had been consumed by nature.

"Was it a grave...?" Paseton asked softly after looking at the sculpture and the trinkets that lay on the ground by it.

Withira looked around the place. "Maybe."

Something bugged her about this island. She had half the mind to bail and leave the island alone, but her curiosity won her over so she nods to a cobblestone path to Paseton and Archie, signaling them over to follow her. They did as she had asked them to, following behind her and keeping their eyes peeled open for anything that might be suspicious or dangerous. The island was eerie, as it was quiet aside from their footsteps and the shuffling of leaves whenever the wind blew on the trees there.

"No animals," Archie murmured. Not even birds.

"Could be why everyone is dead," Withira says, looking down to a clearing slightly below them, seeing the many numbers of headstones down there. The grass was overgrown and the graves looked to be placed too close to each other, most of them destroyed due to the overgrown roots from the trees near them. "No more meat to hunt."

Paseton gulped. "That's a lot of people."

"A lot of dead people," Archie corrected him, looking over the graves with a frown.

"Look." Withira pointed to the same flower sculpture at the front of what seemed to be the graveyard site for the past civilization here. "Another sculpture. Means they're probably worshipping it."

"Worshipping a flower?" Archie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, a flower," Withira says, unamused. "Of course, not. They worship what it represents. They most likely worship that looming tall tree in the middle of the island."

The three of them continued to traverse the small island. Withira noticed how there seemed to be thick, wood all around the forest that was in the shape of tendrils, reminding her faintly of Cale's powers to summon so many logs of trees and control them like they were ropes. Flowers grew on the wooden, tendril-like barks, all of them having the same shape as the flower that was sculpted and placed on a pedestal all around the island like small landmarks. Whatever entity caused these wooden tendrils to grow, they were worshipped by the community that had once lived on the island.

Withira stopped when they reached the middle of the island, facing a ruined structure of what was once a great hall of some sort, its entrance having hanging vines like curtains. The roof of the entrance was destroyed due to the tall tree that had grown in the middle of it, the tree's bark resembled multiple tendrils being strung together and twirled, flowers growing on its barks, the color a pretty deep purple with white tips at the petals. But what had caught her attention was the dried, brown reddish color that seemed to be dragging from the other way to the inside of the ruin.

"Blood," Archie says, preparing himself if there was someone inside the ruin and coming out to attack them.

The blood might have been old, but it wasn't as ancient as everything else on the island.

Withira walked up to the entrance of the ruin and covered her mouth and nose, recognizing the agonizing stench of rotten flesh from inside of the ruin entered her sense of smell. Paseton and Archie followed her from behind as they stepped into the ruin. The smell seemed to amplify once they were inside and Withira grimaced at the sight of a rotten body laying back on an altar stone, a gaping large hole in his stomach, his guts and blood all over the floor.

"Poor man," murmured Paseton, eying the gaping large hole on the man's body. "What could have done that to him?"

Withira approached closer, noticing that there was another body, laying on the altar stone, and the dead man laying on the ground had held their hand tightly, even in death. Withira approached the altar stone carefully while Archie and Paseton stood back, still looking around the premises with their guards high up.

'That hair...' Withira thought to herself, seeing the familiar [h/c] hair strewn all over the stone altar.

Withira stood there for a long time, letting realization sink in as she come to terms that she knew this person on the altar stone. Withira leaned down to the body, your body, nearly frantic as she cups your face. Your skin was cold, like the corpses she had helped pushed in the waters to help Cale's men to retrieve them the day she found out she had to aid them to look for your corpse. This was where you were? How did you even end up here?

Withira leaned down, placing her fingers on your pulse and when she couldn't find it quick enough, she pressed her ear to your chest, desperately hoping to hear any signs of life.

"Sister--!"

Withira jumped away from the altar stone when she heard Paseton's voice and a thick, tendril-like bark struck where she was standing up. The tendril looks to have dried blood on it and the size of it matches the hole on the dead man's chest.

"It's sentient," says Archie when the vines that were scattered all around the ruins suddenly began to move. "We need to get out of here!"

Withira watched how the vines squirmed and seemed to be facing the three of them, standing guard over the altar stone like they were protecting you. Before she could get another word out, a number of them struck out to impale the three of them. No matter how many times they cast their weapons to cut off the tendrils, more seemed to come up to attack them, driving them away to the edge of the island until the three of them were forced to jump into the water, morphing back into their whale forms.

"We need to inform this to Cale-nim," Withira says, swimming towards their home quickly as they avoided the tendrils that seemed to grow from the base of the floating island, chasing after them.

"What? Why?" Paseton asked, confused as he narrowly avoided a thick vine.

"That was [Name]," Withira says. "She was still alive."

They swam until the tendrils could no longer follow them, having reached their limit in length. Withira, Paseton, and Archie watched as the thick tendrils began to thrash around, creating big waves into the ocean to push them out further. 'So this is how it sunk the ship,' Withira thought with wide eyes, realizing that whatever entity they were facing, it was not one to be messed with.

#cale henituse x reader #lout of count's family #lcf cale #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #tcf cale

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cherish--these--times · 11 months

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Okay. BUCKLE UP.

To the people who say that we have no media literacy because we hoped til the very end that Ted and Rebecca would end up together: you can FUCK RIGHT OFF.

Recently, Hannah W. declared: "Is there chemistry beyond friendship? Yes, I think they do have that as well."

But beyond that, there were A MILLION OTHER WAYS they could have done the last season (and arguably season 2) differently than what they did to avoid any ambiguity as to Ted and Rebecca's relationship. They could have had them hang out all the bloody time and be the rock solid best friends in the world. Ted and Rebecca were never more than friendly co-workers since season 1 ended. That BFF, platonic bullshit was never a thing. If that was true, Ted would have had NO PROBLEM hugging the shit out of her in the stands in the last episode when she begged him to stay. Or again in the airport. They would have gushed over how they made each other's life better and it would have been beautiful and moving and perfectly reasonable. Instead it was loaded with unsaid stuff between two people who never dared to get too close to one another. Keeley was Rebecca's rock. Beard was Ted's. Ted and Rebecca were something else. They were connected in unfathomable, cosmic ways. A perfect set up for a romcom, even if you dislike the idea.

But okay, playing the devil's advocate here, if the platonic soulmates shtick was always the intent (and I don't care what people think, I'm not sure it was), why not have them fall in love with other people early on but keep them as a tightly-knit tandem? Why keep them apart so much throughout the show and both single for most of it???? Why even establish they were born to meet then they never see each other again at the end?? Romance aside, what was the fucking point of that??

Let's address your fucking condescension, shall we? I'll tell you what media literacy fucking taught me:

That Rebecca immediately sensing Ted was having a panic attack, following him, and missing him by a hair, is a classic trick for lovers in a "right place, wrong time" kinda way. If they didn't want to leave any space for ambiguity, she would have found him, comforted him and took him to Dr Fieldstone's office herself without this need to overdramatise and make us long for said comfort that she was unable but clearly desperate to provide.

That Ted texting her for the first time on screen (15 times!!!) because he wanted to hang out at night in a foreign city JUST WHEN SHE LOSES HER PHONE IN A CANAL is a classic SEE ABOVE!! Fuck all of you, honestly.

That one half of the equation carrying a matchbook in his pocket the other half had been obsessing over for months means he is the answer to her romantic quest. And before you go and say that everyone got a matchbook that night, THAT'S NOT THE FUCKING POINT. They chose to show that Ted, of aaaaaaall the people in the restaurant that night, had been carrying Rebecca's hopes and dreams in his pocket THE ENTIRE BLOODY TIME. It was an intentional, purposeful decision. They decided to drop that hot potato later on but you can't blame us for thinking it would lead somewhere!

That one half of the equation carried a trinket in her bag the other half gave her YEARS BEFORE, means he is the one for her. Why? Because this was something he gave her to make her feel safe! Letting someone wonderful love her without fear of being safe was the thing she canonically admitted she was afraid of in a ROMANTIC relationship! The fact that the army man happened to be stuck in the green matchbook was frankly TAKING THE PISS.

That Ted's official love interest having admitted she disliked his puns and having Rebecca laugh at one of his puns IN THE SAME EPISODE is meant to convey she's the one and right under his nose!

That her love interest for the night unloading his marital struggles on her unprompted just like Ted did, loving the same songs as Ted and making her tea that had the same impact on her as Ted's first biscuits means that what she looks for in a partner is right under her nose!

That having her bump into Ted in a corridor and both sensing each other in a choreographed dance MOMENTS after Higgins gave her a whole ass speech about how psychics could help her see in herself what she's missing means IT WAS ALWAYS TED. Don't even get me started on the fact that during said speech, the pink biscuit box was very conveniently placed just behind the green matchbook! A speech about her not seeing something about herself?? Uh??? FUCK OFF.

That Rebecca being told she will have a family and have her instigate Ted getting closer to his son and gushing over his mother is a clear indicator that she would fit in the Lasso household like a glove!

That having Ted canonically never ask for help and Rebecca being the one who doesn't need him to because she always knows when he is unwell means she's framed as being the right person for him. She also uses a trick his EX-WIFE used in the past for that exact purpose.

That their baggage matching right up meant they would have been perfect for each other. His biggest fear is being abandoned and hers is ending up alone. Ted and Rebecca were the logical option for a couple. Ted even had to begrudgingly admit it worked for Jane and Beard. The only canonically happy couple at the end (and ain't that fucking mental...).

That having the line "Remember to let her into your heart" from the Hey Jude song coincide with Ted looking down at his phone and seeing Rebecca's name means that she's the woman he should allow himself to end up with.

Why keep them both single and desperate for love until the very last episode? Why not have Michelle beg Ted to come back and Dutch Guy find Rebecca thanks to newspaper clips about football in Holland 10 episodes ago and be done with it?? Why even not have Rebecca pine for him on screen ever since they parted ways??

Everything in this show was intentional. You can't marvel over this fact for everything BUT Ted and Rebecca and suddenly claim we read too much into things! We were played. Multiple times. At various degrees. And it doesn't take being a fan of the show to see it:

An LA Times journalist made an article about the hints and clues in the show after she interviewed TedBecca fans. And she BELIEVED IT. She got convinced. She told Hannah W. in an interview.

Another journalist on CBR.com (male, so you can shove your "desperate women wanting the straight couple to be together at the end" where the sun ain't shining) lamented the way the TedBecca shippers were treated.

Keep your passive-aggressive posts to yourselves. We've been dangled a carrot since day one and just because we never got to eat it doesn't mean it was never there.

#tedbecca #ted x rebecca #ted lasso spoilers

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 16 days

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if you can, do you mind doing some toby and avery hcs??

toby and avery head canons

of course, i'd love to!! i'm literally so obsessed with them, and their story literally makes me sob. hope you like them <3. @catapparently helped.

i honestly may have read a fic about this on ao3, but toby got avery a music box that played her mom singing this lullaby when someone opened it. she cried for hours in his arms.

avery blames herself for what happened to toby and the blakes, and sometimes calls him to apologize profusely (even though he's already forgiven her). he assures her he still loves her and that she means the world to him.

they don't call or see each other often except for at galas and events that the blakes drag him to. they always sneak away (with the help of the hawthornes) so they have time to talk.

hannah would sometimes tell toby that they were going to be at like a bowling alley that day or smth, and he'd do his best to show up and watch her play and have fun. he would tear up at the life he wanted but could never have.

he walked her down the aisle on her wedding day. she originally didn't want anyone to do it because she doesn't like the idea of your parent 'giving you away to someone', but when she realized who toby was and what he meant to her, that changed.

they visit hannah's grave together and just cry in each others arms. they'll tell each other what they miss most from the life they had before with her.

toby tells her about all the wild things hannah would say to him and how much she hated him at first. avery loves hearing him talk about her mother because he always sounds so in love.

toby will mail her little puzzles that he carved for her to solve. she always sends him picks of it when she's done.

avery regularly goes back to the spot where they used to eat after their chess games/where they used to play chess to feel closer to him.

toby calls her horrible girl and princess, and, when she has kids, he starts calling them horrible boy and princeps (princess in latin according to google translate) (i hc that aj have a daughter and a son)

toby gave avery the talk not because she needed it but bc he saw it as a classic father/daughter experience that he wanted to have with her.

toby wishes he was less of a coward when he was younger and actually took part in avery' life. he regrets not seeing her grow, take her first steps, her first day of school etc..

avery knows this and will sometimes send him videos her mom took of her when she was younger (we know she used to send him postcards sometimes but its not the same)

for his birthday, avery will head over to the blake's house (or wherever he's currently living), threaten the people who answer the door to let her in, and will spend a few minutes with him before she's forced to leave.

she sometimes gifts him things that used to belong to her mother

toby tried to teach her how to carve wood, but she could never get the hang of it. she tries her best and gifts him her attempts even if they suck. toby finds it very sweet and adorable.

avery has a really nice voice but doesn't like to sing bc it reminds her of her mom on her death bed (she used to ask avery to sing her her favorite songs before she died). toby loves her voice though so sometimes she'll suck it up and record a voice message of her singing.

they will send each other songs that remind them of the other.

toby has the best relationship advice (even though he's never really been in a relationship except for with hannah). when she's having trouble with jamie (very rare), she'll go to him IF possible (i literally say this in every post for like avery and grayson or nash, but i think it fits toby and avery best)

toby has an insta account avery doesn't know about that he uses to like and comment on each and every one of her posts.

toby watches all of the broadcasted events she attends, all of her interviews, etc. he's her biggest fan.

he knows she loves sushi so sometimes he'll order her some and get it delivered to her house on days where she's told him she's swamped with work.

avery's kids call him grandpa even though he's not actually their grandpa.

they love sending each other cryptic messages for the other to figure out.

they usually call each other late at night bc that's when the blakes are less likely to catch him. jamie will leave the room when this happens and let them talk.

after vincent blake died, he was more free to do whatever he wanted so he started visiting her more often. not all the time though because eve was still a pain in the ass.

avery has a bad habit of going to bed way to late and waking up way to early so toby will text to make sure she's getting sleep ('are you heading to bed, princess' or 'i hope you aren't still awake, horrible girl')

toby actually swears a lot and avery finds it hilarious. he starts to swear even more bc it makes her laugh.

toby loves sightseeing and will always be taking pictures of his favorite places (he travels a lot bc of the blakes). he sends her all of these pictures

toby tries to be cool and texts like gen z, and avery finds it absolutely traumatizing. she begs him to stop but it just eggs him on.

when avery wakes up from nightmares and has a panic attack, but doesn't want to wake up jamie, she'll call toby. he'll tell her to breathe with him and then will ask her if she's ok in a soft voice. then they'll hang up. she never talks about her nightmares and he never asks. this is literally what happens every time

toby is always sending her memes and dad jokes. she finds them embarrassing but cute at the same time.

#the inheritance games #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #toby hawthorne #hannah rooney

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silent-dark-entries · 3 months

Text

Something I’m in the middle of writing !!!

Word Count: 1175!!

Warnings: Still proofreading so maybe some mistakes! Also my first Wizarding world fic so its probably not accurate ._. This also will be a smut but I’m just plot building :))

Oh!!! And seizure warning!!

Birdie looks herself in the mirror for the fourth time. Was her dress too short, too tight? She can't breathe, so she loosens her ribbons...for the third time. Maybe a muggle designer wasn't the brightest idea, but it's too late. Birdie can feel her friends, Nerissa and Imogene, growing impatient waiting outside in the Slytherin common room. They never have troubles getting dressed for these types of things. They're the exact same body type, if it looks good on one of them it'll surely look good on the other.

Birdie looks one more time. A green plaid slip dress, and shiny Mary Jane platforms Final decision.

Birdie takes a swig of the smuggled in firewhisky as her and her fellow Slytherins make their way to the Gryffindor common room. The burn is dreadful but nostalgic nonetheless.

Birdie listens to her friend's talk but doesn't give them a second thought. She feels guilty of course. She had ignored their letters all summer holiday scared they would've known what she was up to. Scared they knew what her Mother had done. She didn't even sit with them during the sorting ceremony. In fact, she hid in the toilets when the food had come out. But they found her and cornered her asking if they had done something wrong. She denied it and just blamed it on an upset tummy.

Someone in the front of the line of students does the secret knock making the fat lady creek open. The students move through the silenced, glowing green, stone tunnel into the common room full of students. Birdie takes another swig of the fire whiskey before it's swiped by Imogene.

"Pace yourself Birdie." Nerissa says as they find their designated corner to stand in. Imogene throws her sandy Blonde hair behind her tiny shoulders before taking a hefty sip. She screws her face as the burn leaves her throat.

"Fuck's sake Birdie! They weren't kidding when they named this shit." Imogene rasps out. The three girls laugh before taking more tiny sips each.

Birdie floats towards the dance crowd as muggle hip hop blares through the speakers, her friends following closely behind her. Birdie throws her arms up along with the firewhiskey as she yells along to the lyrics of Rump Shaker. Birdie shakes her ass to the beat and occasionally drops to the floor as she's sandwiched between the two girls.

The crowd cheers as the song ends. Birdie opens her eyes that she hadn't realized were shut tight. The room spins beneath her feet as she makes her way towards a group of people sitting on the floor in a circle.

"What is this? huh, some kind of prayer circle?" Birdie snorts out. Birdie hates being seen as a mean girl but it's what people expect from her.

"It's kiss or drink." A gravelly voice from below her says. Birdie looks down at the familiar voice that she usually has great talent in ignoring to see none other than Fred Weasley staring back at her. He smiles up at her before blowing out the smoke from the joint he held between his lips. "We'd ask you to join us, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to tarnish that niminy-piminy attitude you keep up."

Birdie's jaw dropped. Her first thought is to take her bottle she has clenched in her hand and smash it against his head. But instead she sits where she stood inbetween Fred and some nobody sixth year. She keeps her eyes straight ahead ignoring the stares coming from the rest of the group.

Hannah Abbot, a geeky blonde girl leans forward and spins the green translucent bottle that sits in the middle of the circle. The groups hoops and howls as it lands on Neville Longbottom. Hannah giggles as she crawls across the circle closer to Neville before feverishly locking lips with him. Birdie bites her tongue trying desperately not to gag at the sight of the spit string between them as they part. Neville spins the bottle awkwardly fast.

Birdie takes the last swig of her fire whiskey instantly regretting it for it finally sent her over the tipsy versus drunk threshold. She wipes the dribble from her mouth before putting the bottle down between her thighs. She looks at the bottle in the middle to see who it landed on and it's of course her. Birdie looks up to see Neville moving towards her slowly.

"Take the drink Longbottom." Birdie says through her teeth. Neville nods defeatedly before throwing a shot from the bottle back. Birdie rolls her eyes before clumsily leaning in to spin the bottle. She looks around the circle to see if there's anyone worthy enough to kiss but sees no one she actually cares to kiss. Which works out for her for the bottle lands on herself.

"Well I can't kiss myself." Birdie picks up her shot.

"It's on Freddie." George cheekily says. "You have to kiss Freddie!" Birdie looks back down at the bottle. Certainly it's slightly pointed to the left, straight at Fred.

"Just let her take the shot! I told you she's too priggish to kiss anyone here." Fred sneers. Birdie slams her shot glass down and gets on her knees. She throws her arm around Fred's neck and the other hand on his cheek. Pushing him closer to her face until their lips finally meet. Soft and innocent first until Fred dips deeper snaking his arm around her body pulling her closer and slipping his tongue against hers.

Birdie breaks first scooting back on her knees leaving Fred's body cold next to her. She takes the joint from his hand whilst standing and stumbling away to find her friends, leaving the the small circle speechless

"Well" George says breaking the silence. "I don't know how we could continue after that."

Birdie finds her friends in the corner with their arms crossed staring back at her. She takes a hit of the joint and offers it to her friends in which they partake.

"What the hell was that shit, Missulena?" Nerissa says blowing the smoke into the air.

"It was hot!" Imogene says. Birdie shrugs lazily.

"She's pissed. We should get back to the dorms before she gets sick." Nerissa says gesturing them towards the door.

Birdie follows behind her friends before feeling a sharp pain it the middle of her forehead. She shakes off the pain before searching for her friends in the crowd. Birdie stumbles forward but before she could catch her balance she feels her legs give out beneath her making her fall straight on her back. Her arms become stiff against the sides of her sides as her back arch towards the ceiling. Birdie's eyes rolls eerily to the back of her head as her gaped mouth lets out a ghostly howl.

Nerissa and Imogene push pass through the crowd surrounding as Birdie's body rattles violently against the old rug beneath her body. Birdie looks up at her friends through her tear filled eyes. Until her eyes finally closed.

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fanfiction #fred and george #draco #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #harry potter #draco malfoy smut #hogwarts #hp fandom #Spotify

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