#i think about their story every moment of every day
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ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST
DREAMS.” ۶ৎ
“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)
BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡
PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.
FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ
T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)
GENRE. smut, slight fluff?
“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD
MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!
(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!
SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?
!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡
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the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.
blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?
yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.
and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.
so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.
biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.
“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.
cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.
“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.
your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.
“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.
after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.
your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.
maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.
and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.
. . . .
“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.
“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.
you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.
hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.
waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.
“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.
“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.
“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.
“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.
“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”
now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.
“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.
“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.
“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.
“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.
the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.
yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.
“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.
fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.
“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.
“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”
you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.
“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.
for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.
his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.
“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.
bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.
bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.
gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.
“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.
“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”
“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.
you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.
squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.
“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.
“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.
“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.
“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.
“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”
slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.
“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”
“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.
“thats my girl.”
#squid game#squid game x reader#in ho x reader#hwang in ho#front man x reader#front man#smut#hwang in ho x reader
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01/03/25; 10:00pm
{ drabbles / headcanons }
[ when they realize that you’re the true mc from behind the screen ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
notes: this is just my own take on the self aware au! i know other creators who’ve written their own self aware au’s (and have executed them amazingly well!), but i hope that you readers will give my story a chance, too ♡
you never understood the hype that surrounded the game known as love and deepspace-
however, the moment sylus was announced as the newest love interest for this game-
to say you were mildly interested would have been the greatest understatement of the century. when his trailer was revealed, you swore you felt your knees clash together while basking in his pure, masculine beauty.
and his voice- dear god did it sound like pure silk against your ears!
needless to say, you downloaded lads the moment sylus dropped as the latest love interest. when you made your mc, you did your best to model her after your own appearance to the best of your abilities-
however, it seemed impossible to do.
the mc was just too petite and perfect, something that you could never achieve in real life. yet despite it all, you tried your best to customize her to match your features before starting the game. as you struggled with the missions in the main story, you were essentially grinding until the moment you could unlock sylus's story branch-
and the moment when you accomplished it, you were truly on cloud 9, taking an ungodly amount of screenshots each time sylus was on your phone's screen. you kept interacting with him in game, raising his affinity with you to level 50 in a mere few weeks.
it was embarrassing how much you adored this gorgeous man made up entirely of pixels. you always spent quality time with him, bringing him with you when you worked or had to study for an upcoming exam. each time you would glance at your phone and see his devastatingly handsome features cleaning his gun, you would grin and press a kiss on your screen (directly over his cheek!)
were you shameless for feeling so deeply about a fictional man-
absolutely yes. but did you care?
no.
after kissing sylus for what had to be the thousandth time that day, you would go back to your responsibilities, unaware that sylus could hear you and feel the sensation of your kisses against his cheek.
at first, it was maddening for sylus to realize that everything he's been through was made up by some writers at a company. every tragedy was forced upon him for the sake of a good story-
and he hated it.
he hated how his every word was essentially a script made up by that same company and how he was forced to interact with an mc that was just the same as the rest-
yet the moment he realized he could see you settled behind that woman's avatar-
sylus was intrigued, to say the least.
despite how you looked drastically different from the mc, something about you drew him to you more than the mc ever could. for starters, you were a true, living person who had a personality.
and you just seemed so alive each time sylus saw you. the more time he had spent with you, the more his feelings of curiosity turned into something tangible and real-
making sylus yearn for the day you would recognize him noticing you. he stops cleaning his gun just then, simply keeping his crimson gaze on your form as you wrote in your notebook. the hours continue to pass, yet sylus allows the quality time feature to go on even past the 30 minute mark, not stopping until you were done.
as your eyes go back to your phone, you were ready to quit the session when sylus purposely stops you, "no kiss this time? you wound me, little dove."
he basks in your wide eyed expression and the way your mouth was wide open in a gape, chuckling as you waved your hand over the screen-
and sylus was following your every movement.
"you can see me?"
"i think we've made that abundantly clear just now, little dove." he shakes his head, feeling his world tilt slightly when you pick up your phone.
"y-you just spoke to me, and i- i'm your little dove?" a dreamy expression crosses your features as you kept your gaze on sylus. he gives you a rare, tiny smile while reaffirming his nickname for you with a nod, "of course you are. you have always been my little dove since the moment i laid eyes on you."
a cute sound escapes from your parted lips, and he felt himself being jostled around when you began to spin while holding your phone. with his eyebrows lifted in response, he calls out your name while telling you, "you don't seem to be as panicked as i imagined."
"are you kidding me? i-" you cough and give him a sheepish expression, "i actually love you so much, and despite the weirdness of this all, i'm strangely happy."
your words succeed in making sylus feel warm inside-
and he knew he had to find a way to be with you soon.
zayne has always been aware of your existence, since you were a longtime player of his game and have spent most of your time together with him.
strangely enough, he took pride in having the highest affinity with you-
yet when you obtained any of the other love interest's memories, or spent some time with them-
a wave of jealousy would course through zayne's veins. he knew that he was programmed to always feel happy with whatever man you chose-
but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. after all, zayne knew that he loved you the most out of all of them.
he was the one who held your health and wellbeing above all else (even ignoring his own desires to see you during his quality time sessions with you.)
while working on his laptop at the cafe, he was aware of how late it was and was hoping that you were already safe and sound in bed-
so imagine his surprise when he sees you logging into the game, greeting him with a tired smile on your face as you opened up the quality time menu with him.
"hey zaynie, i know it's late, but i need to get these assignments done just to stay ahead. i couldn't find the time to do them earlier, so that's why i'm here."
admittedly, zayne could feel a shiver of pleasure each time you spoke to him, allowing him to bask in the sound of your voice-
yet more so than that was how concerned he was that you wanted to do your assignments at such an ungodly hour. as you pressed on the quality time session, zayne would immediately cancel it. confusion was etched onto your features, making you try again-
only to have zayne cancel the session once more.
"what the hell is going on?"
unable to hide the fact that he could respond to you (and not wishing to ignore you any longer) zayne takes a chance and speaks to you.
"it's too late for you to be studying. you should be in bed, ready to sleep."
your eyebrows furrow in response to his words, uncertain if this was part of his script (it wasn't). unable to stop, zayne continues to lightly scold you, "humans need at least 8 hours of sleep, and i know that you've barely gotten 5 hours the past few days."
"oh my god, what?!" he watches as you pick up your phone, meeting his gaze as an incredulous expression was seen on your face. "zaynie, are you talking to me?"
zayne was conflicted now, pulling at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, wanting to be honest with you, "yes... i am talking to you, and if you cared for me and my feelings at all, you would go to bed and work on your assignments in the morning, once you're fully rested."
it takes you a moment to take this all in.
from zayne meeting your gaze and scolding you because he was concerned about your health-
it honestly felt like such a dream come true.
your features end up breaking out into a kind smile, and zayne could feel a blush creeping up against his cheek when you nuzzle your face closer to your phone, "okay zaynie, i'll go to sleep."
cradling the phone close to your chest, you let out a hum while slowly getting into bed. once you were settled in bed, you held up your phone to see zayne looking back at you. he smiles at you, "good girl, now close your eyes and sleep."
he watches as you purse your lips before asking him, "will you stay with me, zayne?"
smiling at your request, he gives you a nod, "of course. i'm not going anywhere." he watches you once more as you cuddle into your comforter, closing your eyes while setting your phone close to you.
and as your breathing evens out, (turning softer), zayne whispers your name, filled with longing and love for you alone.
you had to be experiencing the worst cold of your life as you were settled in bed with your phone in hand, playing love and deepspace as you did some missions with xavier, your true love interest for the game.
in the middle of your battle, you let out a particularly loud sneeze, wiping the snot away from your nose while blowing into a tissue when a tiny voice was heard saying "bless you."
after blowing your nose, you said 'thank you' in response-
only to do a double take.
who just said bless you?
you take a quick scan around your room, coughing here and there-
only to realize that there was no one in sight.
you hear the voice again, this time saying your name as you realized that it sounded familiar to you. looking back at your phone, you saw xavier had already taken out the enemy and was looking directly at you.
you swallow thickly, your voice shaky when you began to speak,
"xavier?"
"yes."
"you can hear me?"
"i was able to hear you since day 1, and you chose to stick with me." xavier was practically grinning now, appearing smug while folding his arms across his chest.
by now, you were feeling dizzy as you slowly sit up in bed, feeling almost feverish while looking into xavier's gorgeous, true blue eyes. xavier has been aware of your presence this whole time-
and that fact was enough to make a surge of warmth course through you.
"you... you have always been able to see me?" you ask xavier in a shy voice, earning an earnest nod from him, "yes, and..." he trails off while pressing a hand against your screen, "i'm sorry that i'm unable to take care of you when you're feeling so sick."
"n-no! don't worry about it... i'm just happy that you're here... with me."
a sweet smile paints xavier's expression, coupled along with a gentle chuckle. "i'm happy to be with you, too. and i'm happy that you chose me over them."
realizing what xavier meant, you gave him the best smile you could manage while wiping at your nose with a new tissue, "i will always choose you, xavi."
hearing your admission causes a surge of possessiveness to course through xavier's veins. and while you smiled back at him, the philos prince was thinking of ways to forever keep your smiles for himself.
feeling the need to clean your house and do some chores around it, you decide to spend some quality time with rafayel, the hot lemurian you fell in love with ever since you began playing love and deepspace. with his pretty, pouty face on your screen, you began cleaning, moving around your kitchen and living room while wiping down each surface you could see.
you spent a few hours cleaning, with rafayel seeming to sketch during his quality time session with you, which felt odd. usually, after 30 minutes, the game would notify you, asking if you'd like to continue the session as you confirmed it-
yet now, that didn't seem to happen.
you saw no notification-
and rafayel was still sketching on your screen.
with a shrug, you figured the game probably updated and added this new feature, where you didn't have to constantly renew the 30 minutes during your quality time with rafayel. feeling thirsty now, you pick up your phone and head into the kitchen, setting your phone on the counter as you went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
"hey princess! where did you go?! i can't see you!"
you nearly dropped your water bottle in response, hearing rafayel's voice coming from your phone. "come on princess, don't leave me hanging, where are you?"
was this a new script?
closing your fridge, you step closer to your phone, seeing rafayel's pout. picking it up, allowing rafayel to finally see you, he was smiling now while winking at you. "there you are, princess! are you done doing all that work?"
words were unable to form as you were left gaping at him, making the artist chuckle while shaking his head, "you look like a goldfish, which is pretty cute! oh, before i forget!"
rafayel pulls back, revealing his sketchbook to you. your heart was felt clenching slightly before racing upon realizing every sketch was about you-
not your mc in game.
the realization of it all had you reeling, with your hands gripping at your counter when you addressed rafayel. "rafe, you can see me?"
"of course i can, always have been able to, princess." he has the audacity to make your heart flutter the moment he gives you another wink. "and let me just say, i've been loving what i've been seeing so far, princess."
by now, you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, unable to hide your grin as you cling to your phone all while basking in rafayel's flirty and playful words-
yet little did you know, somewhere along the way, rafayel had genuinely fallen head over heels for you, keeping each painting and sculpture he had made of you hidden so that you would never know-
at least, not yet.
end notes: i'm so happy to write a story like this, where all the lads men truly are so META and wish to be with YOU-
and not the mc (⺣◡⺣)♡
this is currently unedited, but i shall make any changes the moment this story is posted!
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
#sylus fluff#zayne fluff#xavier fluff#rafayel fluff#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#lads x reader#lnds x reader#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace
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[not me getting to this five years late LOL, but I'm still gonna do it!]
How many fics have you worked on since January? Omg, so many. So many. Around 30 or so (almost all WIPs, especially)
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? Tried a new method of showing a character having a bad experience via dissociation by changing how the scene is written (no real spoken dialogue especially)
What piece of media inspired you the most? Resident Evil to the max!!!!
How many fandoms did you write for this year? Just two, I believe. Resident Evil and Red Dead Redemption 2.
What ships captured your heart? Resident Evil: Leon/Chris + Chris/Piers + Leon/Luis + Chris/Leon/Piers + (and someone opened my heart to Ada/Hunnigan and GOD I need!!!). For RDR2: I always love Hosea/Dutch, Arthur/Charles, Kieran/Mary Beth
What characters captured your heart? fcuking LEON S KENNEDY, THAT MAN IS NICE! DAMN! Oh, and Hunnigan, too! She is so fucking cool!!!
Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? Resident Evil is new to me! We have RE4R to thank for that.
What fic meant the most to you to write? Hm, that's a hard one. I'd say the one I've posted is "This Must be Good" because of what I was trying to do, and I think I succeeded with it.
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? All the whumptober stuff :) I love whump! And it was my first time interacting with the whump community on tumblr!
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? Within Range! Managing all those characters and chaos was fun! (it's a scene, not a full fic, but it's about 50% done, enough to be posted for whumptober).
What fic was the most difficult to write? Genesis 3:19! Spent a long time on it proportionally to how long it is. Lots of research, a lot of refining how I wanted it to read/feel.
What fic was the easiest to write? Experiment 537! BOW!Leon was so fun to write, I need to prioritize working on that AU.
What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? (for completed fics, I posted a lot of wips for whumptober) Shortest is "This Must Be Good" at 3.9k, longest is "Trapped by Circumstance" at 17k
What were your go-to writing songs? Anything by Witchz. New fav artist this year.
What was the hardest fic to title? Genesis 3:19. God, that was hard lol
What's your favorite title of the year? It's a WIP, but "Flies and Blood, The Demon"
Share your favorite opening line: He avoids capture for almost two whole days until they bring out the dogs. ("Trapped by Circumstance"
Share your favorite ending line: Luis averts his eyes from the laser’s glow as it burns the rest of the parasite away into ash. (Genesis 3:19)
Share your favorite piece of dialogue: “Keep it professional, Kennedy,” Adam cuts him off, cold and firm. Leon curbs his instinct to snap back, smoothing his anger out just enough to count as humor. He pushes because he always pushes, even though it pisses Adam off— especially because it does. "Jesus, did someone kill the Queen or something?" "Or something," Adam repeats, drier than a rock. (WIP "Flies and Blood, The Demon")
Share your funniest line: If Piers didn’t already know that Kennedy was this sarcastic by nature, he would be thinking Kennedy’s GSW isn’t that bad if he is being snarky. (Within Range)
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?: Pretty much every decision Capcom makes... so yes it absolutely changes the story (LOL), but it's fine! It means I get to have fun patching up major plot holes.
What writing programs did you use? Google docs, then started using Ellipsus! I like Ellipsus!
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?: Finishing Whumptober! It was my first time participating!
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? Nope! Just enjoy posting and talking about it
How did you recharge between fics? ... working on new ones?
Did you create fanworks other than fic? I did not, but I'm hoping to start next year!
How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) Just one, Whumptober!
If this were an awards show, who would you thank? @waywardsou2 for being the literal BEST!!!! EVER!!! FOR EVERYTHING! @rainwaterapothecary for letting me spam you with re4r thoughts and enabling my love for Hunnigan! @geddy-leesbian for being a cool friend who makes cool shit and has a sick AU that I love to think about! @silvercap for your whump ideas and fellow desire to make Leon suffer :) @greasedcowboy for the love you poured onto Genesis 3:19 and our talks after! <3 and major honorable mention to @wisecrackingeric-2 for showing being 98% responsible for me loving Luis so much!!!!!!! Fuck yeah, Luis!!! Fuck yeah, Eric!
What's left on your to-do list for 2024? Uh... 'tis over, but I did not finish what I wanted to.
What would you like to write next year? So much, so many things. Especially finish up all my posted wips and then post new ones! I have so much writing I want to do!
A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!
How many fics have you worked on since January?
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?
What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)
How many fandoms did you write for this year?
What ships captured your heart?
What characters captured your heart?
Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?
What fic meant the most to you to write?
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?
What fic was the most difficult to write?
What fic was the easiest to write?
What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?
What were your go-to writing songs?
What was the hardest fic to title?
What's your favorite title of the year?
Share your favorite opening line
Share your favorite ending line
Share your favorite piece of dialogue
Share your funniest line
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?
What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
How did you recharge between fics?
Did you create fanworks other than fic?
How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)
If this were an awards show, who would you thank?
What's left on your to-do list for 2024?
What would you like to write next year?
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«Corpse bride groom»
Synopsis: You were forced to marry for convenience, so you practiced your vows in the forest, but you didn't expect the branch coming alive after you marry it. You thought you saw a ghost, but he was worse, a corpse groom.
K. Taehyung x f. Reader
4.7K words.
Genre: Corpse bride au | yander-ish.
Tags: inspired by Corpse bride by Tim burton, arranged marriage, Infatuation, obsessive behavior, Original male character (Victoria's male version from the movie), Tae is so deeply in love with reader, he's whipped, dead Taehyung (he'll come back to life for smut purposes lol), captivity, innocent and naive reader, gothic vibes, Taehyung's a wolf in sheep clothes, possessive behavior, bad ending for reader but not for Tae, smut and dub-con s3x.
From the series masterlist; Hush.
Navigation Masterlist.
You tapped your fingers against your dress impatiently, you didn’t want to be there, you didn’t want to be wed to a stranger. The huge living room greeted you and your parents, the place looked cold and lifeless, your soon to be parents in law were standing before you, with grimaces on their faces. You felt them staring at you -judging you- so you crossed your arms over your chest, almost as if you were shielding yourself from their stares.
“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Everglot!” Greeted your mother with a big smile, you noticed contempt flashing Mrs. Everglot face, but it disappeared as soon as it came.
“Why, you must be Victor…” said your father with a gentle smile.
The boy before you was pale and scrawny, like a fragile Victorian kid. You couldn't believe you’ll be wed to this dull looking boy.
“Smile Dear,” whispered Mrs. Everglot to his husband, and the man did try his best to smile but he made a weird grimace instead, and of course your parents chose to ignore the pathetic attempt.
“We’ll be taking tea in the east room.” Commanded Mrs. Everglot with a blank bored face, turning around to walk towards the east side.
You noticed them walking away and leaving you behind almost as if they forgot about your existence. You sighed with slumped shoulders, blinking with excitement when you spot a piano in the corner of the living room. You glanced around before sitting to play it. You let your fingers play the keyboards, turning them into a sweet melody.
“You play very beautifully.” That voice startled you, making you jump away from the piano.
You felt your cheeks heating with embarrassment at being caught by the fragile Victorian boy.
“Do forgive me, I didn’t mean to be rude…” You muttered biting your inner cheek.
The boy chuckled shaking his head.
“Oh please don’t apologize, I’m not like my parents.” He said smiling, easing your tense shoulders.
But the moment was interrupted by a dramatic gasp.
“Y/n! Victor! How improper of you two being alone before the wedding!” Yelled Mrs. Everglot, making the fragile boy roll his eyes. You bit your bottom lip trying not to laugh.
That woman was such a prude.
After the unnecessary scold, Victor and you were practicing your vows for the wedding. The problem was that your brain wasn’t braining, if that makes sense. You were making mistakes every time.
“With this hand I… I will uhm, lift your, your-“
“Sorrows,” finished softly the fragile boy, you smiled at him in gratitude.
“Sorrows,” you repeated.
“Your cup will never- never empty… and uhm, for I will be your… your wine!”
You heard a deep and disappointed sigh behind you.
“With this candle, I will light-“ you interrupted yourself when the candle flame goes out, lighting it up again.
“I’d light your way in the darkness.”
“I will,” scolded the priest, but you ignored him.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”
The ring fell to the floor, rolling under Mrs. Everglot's dress. You didn't think twice before pulling it out from under her dress, regretting your action almost immediately when you accidentally set his fabric on fire.
Long story short, it was a disaster. Your parents were ashamed, and a strange woman save the day by putting out the fire. You felt your lips wobbling and your gaze blurring, you didn’t mean to be so clumsy, you were just trying your best. You ran away from the house, after all everyone was ignoring your presence, so you weren’t worry about them wondering where were you going.
Your eyes were teary and your chest stung with shame and helplessness. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that you were walking into the forest. It was already night; the forest floor was covered in blankets of snow with the moonlight as the only source of light. You paced around with knitted brows and clenched fists.
“That pale boy must think I’m a fool,” You spoke out loud to yourself, with a long sigh. “It shouldn’t be that difficult to say a few simple vows…” You muttered, clearing your throat to practice your vows again.
“With this hand I will- i… uhm, cup your wine? Fuck no, with this uhm… candle! I… i… set your annoying mother on fire,” you mumble kicking a branch.
You look up to watch the beautiful moon, spinning around and imagining you were at your wedding, everything was perfect and Victor’s parents didn’t hate you.
“Oh hello Mrs. Everglot, you look lovely this evening,” you smiled to a trunk, spinning around with your fluffy dress.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,” you said raising your hand. “Your cup will never empty… For I will be your wine,” you carry on with an imaginary cup. “With this candle I will light your way in the darkness.”
And then you stopped, watching the shiny ring on your palm.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” you whispered softly, placing the ring on a branch as if it was a finger.
And suddenly, the earth shook beneath you, making you gasp with horror at the sight of the branch coming back to life. Or more like a man rising from the earth, or from the death.
In front of you stood a handsome man, dress for a wedding. His boxy smile and left white eye were charming, unlike his ragged suit and cadaveric purple-like skin. You spotted some of his rib bones through a hole in his wedding suit.
You blink hard and quick, thinking you went mad. You screamed with fear when the man walked towards you, showing you his finger wearing the ring. His grin never eased.
“I do.” He replied with a deep voice, bringing his face an inch closer to yours. “Now kiss the groom.” He whispered lowly, brushing your lips.
And when his mouth touched yours, everything turned black.
“She’s still so soft and warm,” said a distant voice, making you frown and blink slowly your eyes open.
Your eyes widened with horror and your mouth opened with a scream at the sight above you, there was two men looking down at you, the both of them were definitely dead. The one in your right didn’t even have arms. It was horrific, straight out of a horror movie.
Where the fuck were you?
The place seemed like a bar cave, with skeletons speaking and living corpses looking at you with confusion and pity.
“Oh don’t frighten her Yoongi, maybe she’s one of those that doesn’t know they’re dead yet,” the man on your left says with pity in his gaze, making you gasp with disbelief.
“Dead? The fuck are you talking about! I’m alive, is… is this a dream?” You whispered the last words to yourself, maybe you just were in a bad dream. Nothing to worry about, right?
“You two leave her alone, don’t overwhelm my wife,” the mysterious man from the woods ordered with a stern voice, however his gaze was gentle and fixated on you.
You blinked with knitted brows, did you hear him right?
“Wife?” You muttered with confusion, but everyone ignored you.
“Of course tae, we are very aware of your temper,” said the man named Yoongi.
“To the newlyweds!” Yelled the other man, raising a beer and making everyone repeat the words with joy.
“Newlyweds!?” This time you shouted out the words, watching them with horror written on your face. As far as you know you were still single, yet to be wed but single.
“You said your vows so beautifully in the woods my dear,” the deep and dark voice from the mysterious mantook your attention again. His gaze was still lingering on you, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. You didn’t know how to react at his intense gaze, so you averted yours instead.
“I… did?” You muttered to yourself, remembering your rehearsal in the woods. You didn’t mean to wed a corpse.
“You did, my love.” His words were sugary sweat, as if they were trying to melt into your ears.
You gulped, feeling a deep and primal fear squeezing your chest, you were about to have a panic attack. You wanted to run away now.
“Well, let me introduce myself, I’m Namjoon, the waiter. I died a year ago and-“ You interrupted him by grabbing a dagger from a corpse to aim it at them as a threat.
Your mind was foggy and your thoughts erratic, you weren’t thinking straight.
“Get away from me! I-I have a knife and I’m not scared to use it! Give me questions now!” You yelled with panic.
“I think you mean answers sweetheart,” your supposed husband mention with amusement.
You blinked feeling like a moron. Realizing you were threatening literally corpses.
“Ehm, yes, answers. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said calmly, walking towards you with every step screaming confidence and elegance. He stopped inches from your body, leaning his beautiful face to yours. You flinched when you felt him curling a lock of your hair with his finger.
“As you can see, I’m a dead groom, with a very… tragic past. I was betrayed in life the day of my wedding, I thought I’d doomed for eternity until you said your vows to me, as a gift from life… or dead.” He caged you against the bar counter with his arms at each side of you and his body leaning even more closer, making you lean your back on the counter as an attempt to get away from him.
“Our poor Tae, he was so handsome and naïve in life. Always wearing his heart on his sleeve, that snake of a woman manipulated him to keep his money.” Said Yoongi with anger on his voice, while he was speaking, tae didn’t look away from you for a second. His intense gaze was piercing you.
“And our Taehyung has always been a romantic with a kind heart, for that woman to murder him in cold blood on his wedding day. But he made a vow, to wait for his true love.” Continued Namjoon.
You felt a pang of guilt cross your heart, that was truly a tragic and sad story. No one deserves to die in such way.
“Taehyung,” you whispered his name, making him inhale sharp.
“Yes, my moon.” He said back, smiling at you gently.
“I’m… really sorry for what happened to you, but I think there is a misunderstanding,” you tried to say, getting away from Taehyung with him following your steps.
“There is none my love. We are married.” Irritation flashes his handsome face.
“We’re not!” You yelled, and then you ran away.
You ran as fast as you can, almost tripping a couple of times. You watched with horror and fear the corpses surrounding you, passing in your way between a person cut in half. You watched all of their organs.
But then exhaustion drugged your movements, making you stop to take a deep breath and calm your racing heart. Your eyes burned with tears at the realization that you were lost, with nowhere to go. You sit on a bench and sob your heart out like a child.
“Oh my dear, what are you doing here alone sweet thing.” Taehyung’s voice cooing at you made you look up at him, feeling relieved to see at least one familiar face. You hiccupped with fat tears streaming from your eyes, making Taehyung knit his brows with deep concern. He opened his arms and you rushed to them, hugging him tight.
“I want to go home,” you sobbed into his chest, wetting the fabric of his shirt.
He shushed you, stroking gently your hair and tightening his grip on your body.
“You are home.” His words only made you cry harder.
But then a thought crossed your mind, maybe if you manipulate him to take you up to the world of the living then you could escape from this marriage.
“Tae, i- I want to introduce you to my parents,” you said not looking into his eyes.
“Sure Mon Amour. Where are they buried?” He asked cheerfully.
Your stomach twisted at his words.
“They are… alive.”
His brows knitted for a moment, but he smiled again.
“Then we must find a way to go up.” He said taking your hand to pull you with him.
And that’s how you two ended up in front of an old skeleton magician, who was trying to find a spell in his huge and dusty book.
“Aha! There it is, a spell that’ll allow Taehyung to go to the world of the living,” said the skeleton before coughing loudly.
Taehyung’s grin was wide, he was so charming and beautiful like this, it was such a pity and waste that he was dead.
The skeleton that resembles an old man, gave Taehyung an egg, telling him to eat it to be able to go up. After he does, a cloak of smoke wrapped you both, you felt dizzy for a second, with Taehyung holding your hands. And then you blinked slowly, noticing with joy that you were in the woods again.
“Yes!” You shouted without being able to contain your relief.
Taehyung smiled gently at you, although he has a white dead eye, his gaze was full of life and love. Your smile fell at the guilty pang piercing your heart, it was a little bit cruel to leave him like this, but you have no other choice. You don’t belong to the world of the dead, at least not now.
“I- uhm, I’ll look for my parents to bring them here. I’ll go ahead, wait here for me and don’t move,” you said clearing your throat, trying to look convincing enough.
“Sure thing, I’ll wait right here,” he said cheerfully, sitting on a piece of log. Looking at you with a hint of innocence and trust. You averted your gaze, unable to bear looking into his eyes.
“I’ll… I’ll be right back,” you muttered, walking away from him.
At first your steps were calm and confident, until you turn your head back realizing you were far enough to run like a mad woman, and you did, gasping by how fast you were running. You burst with happiness when you got to the town safe and sound, back home.
But Victor’s house was on the way, and you needed to give him some explanations as to why you disappeared the night before the wedding. You climbed to the balcony of his room, too scared to face his parents at this hour.
Your grin widened when you watch him reading on his bed, so you tapped his window eagerly. He jumped with surprise at the sight of you.
“What on earth are you doing here!?” he whispered shouted to you when he opened the balcony doors, and you walked past him into his room.
“I’m so sorry for disappearing, i-I am so scared Victor. Something really bad and weird happened to me! I got wed to a corpse groom against my will!” You knew you sounded like a maniac, probably making no sense to Victor. But there was no other way to explain what happened to you in the woods.
“What? I’m confused…” Victor said carefully, with his brows knitted and looking at you as if you grew another head. You sighed deep at his words.
“I know I sound crazy, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m running from-“
You were interrupted by the balcony doors bursting open and slamming against the walls, making Victor and you startle. There, on the balcony, stood Taehyung, with an intimidating aura. He looked frightening without his typical smile, looking at you two with a cold face.
His steps were large and heavy, pulling you away from Victor with force, tightening his grip around your arm.
“Y/n? who’s that?” Taehyung asked between teeth, not breaking his heavy gaze from Victor.
“He’s my… my-my…” Your brain literally bugged at that moment, blank and without any rational thought.
“I’m his soon to be husband.” Replied Victor, making you open and close your mouth like a fish, you wanted to deny it but you just couldn’t because it was the truth. You didn’t know how well Taehyung will cope with that information.
“You wish,” said darkly Taehyung, pulling you away with him. You two disappeared into the cloaked smoke that brought you here. And you witnessed the horrified face of Victor before vanishing away into the air.
You were again in the place of the old magician skeleton, with Taehyung crying in front of you. Your heart was clenching with pity and anger, he didn’t have any right to take you away from Victor!
“You’re a liar!” Sobbed Taehyung, with tears streaming from his betrayed eyes.
You gasped in disbelief.
“Excuse me? I’ve never lied to you!”
“Yeah sure, go back to that other man,” said lowly Taehyung, with venom and hurt in his voice.
“You are the other man!” You shouted, feed up with his victim complex.
“No I’m not! You’re married to me! He’s the other man!” He screamed with his voice breaking at the last words.
“He’s got a point though,” the skeleton commented softly.
There was a moment of silence, you didn’t know what to say at this point. Taehyung looked defeated with his shoulders slumped.
“And I thought this was going well,” he muttered, making you feel even worse.
“Look, I’m so sorry you have to find it out like this, but I don’t want this marry.”
Hurt flashes Taehyung’s face, his eyes swan in tears again.
“But why? It’s because my eye, isn’t it?” He whispered sadly, looking vulnerable and hurt.
“No! Of course not, your eye it’s very… lovely, you are very lovely, and handsome. But that’s not the point.” You pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “The point is, that we’re not meant to be! You’re… dead, and I’m alive, this just can’t work.”
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before saying your vows,” he replied with an angry scowl and crossed arms.
“Why can’t you understand that this is a mistake! I would never, ever, marry you!”
You regretted your words immediately after watching Taehyung’s crestfallen face. He just stood there, saying nothing back and turning around, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
“Well, a marriage isn’t a marriage without arguments, isn’t it?” You ignored the skeleton, feeling really bad with yourself.
You went out, ignoring the corpses watching you with curiosity, you were the only one with a beating heart and they know it, everyone knows it except Taehyung.
With a sigh, you sit heavily on the bench, biting your bottom lip with no clue of what to do down here without the company of Taehyung. Are you doomed to be in the land of the death? Maybe that was your destiny, in some way, the universe fulfilled your wish; you won’t marry Victor, but at what cost?
You searched for Taehyung after a couple of hours, asking every corpse If they have seemed him, but they never answered your questions.
And then you listened a sweet piano melody from afar, your body followed the sound as a sailor going after the call of a siren. Your feet brought you to a small terrace where Taehyung was playing piano, he looked absorbed in his own little word, until you sat beside him on the piano’s bench, making him startle and widen his pretty eyes.
But he blinked his surprise away, snorting with a roll of his eyes, ignoring you to keep playing. You played the keyboards too, following his melody. He side-eyed you with annoyance, playing quicker the piano, making you smirk playing even more quicker than him. Your hands touched at some point, and you noticed how Taehyung’s defenses broke down little by little, enjoying the melody you two made, smiling softly at you.
“That was so beautiful,” you say breaking the comfortable silence. Taehyung only nodded at your words.
Your lips curled down, feeling that pang of guilt in your chest again.
“Look, I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. You’re the most interesting and handsome man I’ve ever met, and if death weren’t separating us, I’d fall head over heels for you.” You said softly, trying to make him understand why you two weren’t compatible at all.
He just hummed, not looking at you.
“So the only thing you want from me… it’s a beating heart?” He asked trying to look nonchalant, but you noticed the tension of his lips.
“I… I mean, I can be dead to be with you… at this point, there’s nothing left for me up there,” you muttered, you didn’t miss Victor’s parents flattering the woman that turn off the fire of Mrs. Everglot dress, she seemed interested in marrying Victor.
“No.” Growled Taehyung with anger, a fire burning his dead eyes. “I would never take that away from you, life is a gift, and you’re full of it. That’s whyI’m head over heels for you, my moon.” He whispered the last words, full of love and passion, melting your heart and filling your eyes with tears.
You’ve never felt more loved and seemed in your life, but it felt wrong, because the feeling wasn’t mutual. You appreciate him, yes, you think he’s beautiful and sweet, also yes. But you didn’t love him.
“I have to be honest with you Tae, I just… don’t feel the same, and I can’t guarantee you that my feelings will change in the future.”
Taehyung smiled with sadness and determination, holding tightly both of your hands and stroking lovingly the back.
“I have enough love for the both of us, even If you never love me, even if you hate me. I’ll never leave you.” He said like an oath, one he’s not willing to break.
You blinked at his words, taken aback. It felt more like a threat rather than a confession of love, but you didn’t mind. It felt nice to be cared for.
“Okay.” You whispered, looking into his pretty eyes.
“I have something to show you,” his voice dropped an octave, and his gaze darkened for a moment, but he returned to his bright persona immediately. You nodded slowly, not sure why you felt uneasy all of a sudden.
He took you to a hidden cottage deep in the land of the death, it was hauntingly beautiful, its garden has dead roses and dark sunflowers. Charming and deathly, just like Taehyung.
He showed you a death rose covered in honey, smirking at you like the Cheshire cat, with a mischievous and a naughty glint in his eyes. You narrowed your eyes, raising a brow when he remained silent.
“So? You wanted to show me a withered rose?” You asked with a frown, not sure what the hell you two were doing in that cottage. “Do you live here?” You changed the subject, watching your surroundings with curiosity.
“Yes, we live here. And… this rose it’s enchanted, it will bring me back to life, it’ll make my rotten heart beat again.”
You freeze at his words, whipping your head towards him in shock, watching Taehyung’s eyes darkening. His gaze was intense and unreadable, staring piercingly at you like a hawk, a predator ready to pounce and chase its preys if it dares to run away.
You gulped hard, blinking and processing his words.
“Are you sure…it-it’ll work? I mean, I’m sure it will, we got up a couple of hours ago.” You rambled, trying to think how to say your next words. “If… if, this works, that means… we can go back to the land of the living?” You asked softly and cautiously, watching his every expression as if you were dealing with a wild animal.
Taehyung only smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. That smile looked forced, so unlike him.
“Of course, my moon, we will go to your home. I want to meet your parents after all,” his voice sounded constricted, as if he was restraining himself.
“If you don’t want to do this, then don’t. Do it because you want it, not to please me.”
This time his smile was genuine, sparkling his eyes.
But then his gaze darkened again, like a dusty cloak covering his eyes, his intentions.
“Don’t worry about me, although I have to tell you something. To make this spell permanent, there’s one condition.” He said, not breaking his heavy gaze from you.
A chill run down your spine at his odd vibe.
“What condition?” You asked with your brows knitted.
“We have to consummate the marriage,” he said lowly, approaching you with slow steps.
You widened your eyes at his proposal, no fucking way. You won’t fuck a corpse.
“Taehyung you’re dead. I’m not fucking a corpse, I’m sorry.”
To your surprise, his smirk didn’t falter.
“Did I say I’ll fuck while dead? No. This spell will revive me, but only for 4 hours, that’s why we need to… be intimate to make it permanent.” He said calmly, getting even more closer to your body.
You didn’t know what to say to that, it wouldn’t be a problem if he was alive, right? But… he was still a stranger, and you didn’t feel comfortable being intimate with him.
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t you want to go back home? To be with your parents? Wouldn’t be easier if you tell them you’re already married? I promise to give you space up there, I can love you from afar.” His tone was deep, and his stare burned with determination.
“I… guess you’re right.” You whispered, not knowing what else to say.
It can’t be that bad. Right?
Taehyung smirked mischievously, his eyes glinting with eagerness. He took the withered rose, eating its petals covered in honey. Staring at you while swallowing each one of them.
And then… he changed.
His purpled skin tone turned tan with a healthy glow, his lips changed into a cherry tone. His hair was more ebony and shinning, and that hole that showed his rib bones, was covered with new skin.
He looked alive.
Your lips parted and your eyes widened with fascination. You took one large step to be an inch closer to him, putting slowly your hand on his chest. Laughing with joy at the feeling of his heart beating against your palm. You just witnessed a miracle.
“I’m impressed,” you said feeling his heart, he felt so alive.
Taehyung pulled your hand towards his lips, kissing it softly and staring at you heavily. His lips lingered on your hand, brushing the inner of your wrist.
And then he carried you in bridal style, making you gasp in surprise by the sudden movement. You wrapped your arms around his neck, watching how he took you deeper into the cottage, laying you on the mattress of his bed.
He lingered above you, caging your head and body with his hands and legs, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. His left white eye didn’t change of color, making you smile. It was his charm.
And then he kissed your smile away, sucking and biting your lips like a starve man, swallowing all of your sounds as if he wanted to devour you.
Your head spined because of how rough he was kissing you, not breaking the kiss to give you a chance to breath. You felt him tearing off your clothes like a savage, making you frown and whimper. It was a lot, you tried to turn your head away but he growled, gripping your chin to attach his lips again.
“Tae. I, I don’t know if this is-“
“You said yes, I won’t let you set a foot outside until I’m buried balls deep inside you.” He snarled, with anger and lust clouding his intense eyes.
He widened your legs until your knees brushed your shoulders, baring you open to him. You felt your cheeks heating with embarrassment, you’ve never felt more exposed in your life.
And Taehyung’s eyes glinted with so much hunger that it scared you, the grip he has on your legs was tight, not letting you go.
“You’re mine,” he growled.
And you teared up, feeling like a lamb that fell into its predator’s trap.
You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.
taglist:
@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty @catlove83
#bangtan fanfic#bts x reader#bangtan fic#bts imagines#bts x you#yandere bts#bts#bts fanfic#kim taehyung#taehyung#bts taehyung#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#yandere taehyung#taehyung smut#yandere x reader#taehyung fanfic#taehyung fluff
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Number 44 Cheap for Bucktommy
"You don't get to cheapen what we had."
Tommy says it evenly, a quiet rage burning in his eyes. He's not angry, Buck doesn't think. More hurt than anything else. And isn't that a punch to the gut?
"I'm not saying that, Tommy. Nothing about what we had was cheap. I'm only pointing out that we were obviously in two very different places when it came to how we felt about each other."
"Hm," Tommy hums noncommittally. "I think maybe you should just go, Buck."
Another gut punch. The only reason he's in Tommy's house is to return the box of things that's been sitting next to Buck's front door for more than two months.
"I feel like I'm saying everything wrong here," Buck tries. "I just want to talk to you, Tommy."
"I don't want to talk to you," he says, ending with a heavy sigh. "I can't do this with you."
"Listen, I know you didn't love me the way I love you, but that doesn't mean w-"
"What?"
Buck snaps his jaw shut, puzzled. He tips his head.
"What, 'what?'"
"You think I don't -"
Tommy has started pacing, running rough fingers through his hair as he gets more worked up. Finally he comes to a stop in front of Buck, nearly panting as he meets him head-on.
"I love you so much that it nearly killed me to walk away - almost literally."
"What?!"
"Let me finish," he says calmly. "I love you so much that I had to walk away. I've never felt this way about anyone, and that scares the absolute shit out of me." He laughs humorlessly. "I knew I'd just keep falling more in love with you, and then where would I be? When you finally realized you were settling for the first guy you dated and dumped me to go find someone better, I don't -" he exhales shakily, "- I don't know if I could've survived that. So I walked away while I could still scrape myself off the floor."
Buck is frozen where he stands. He's trying to process everything Tommy just said, and he allows himself the briefest moment to consider that Tommy's right.
Sighing and turning away, Tommy says, "I think I'm just not made to be loved long-term."
That gets Buck to finally unfreeze.
"You dumbass," he says. Tommy turns back to him as his eyebrows shoot up, but Buck ignores the look on his face. "You're just scared. And you're making us both pay for it." He grabs Tommy's arm to stop him from turning away again. "I'm not some kid who's new to love, Tommy. I'm 33. I've been in love before, and I know what it feels like to lose it. But that's not an excuse not to try. And I'm not saying it'll be easy every day, but I want to work at it with you. Especially with you," he emphasizes.
"Evan," Tommy sighs, "I'm not good at any of this. Loving you? That part's easy. But I don't - I don't know how to let myself be loved."
"Okay, well," Buck pulls him closer, and Tommy doesn't resist, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "I think you can learn. You'll have to because I'm gonna love you anyway."
Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase
#911 abc#the ally and the beast#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#jules answers#30somethingautisticteacher#this went a different direction than i'd planned but i kind of like where it ended up
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in your Bigger than the sky animation benrey starts out as barney? that seems so interesting lore wise? i would love to hear about what you were thinking when you animated that askdhfjlagh and the sweet voice and dreading stare? no clue what it means but curious as hell
ok im gonna go a little crazy on this because this is my biggest/favorite bc ever.
In the full vods they refer to benrey as “Barney” for the first while, it’s kind of unclear why, from Wayne’s perspective it seems he just didn’t know his name and defaulted to the character models name, and gir and Holly said they thought the joke with benrey was he was Barney but wrong, and they kept calling him the wrong name, so bipple, booper, Bentley, but eventually benrey, the name said by scorpy, stuck.
All this to say, it’s a BIG hc of mine that he was intended to be Barney (in universe) but due to being self aware was able to break off from this character he was meant to be. it’s kind of implied within the series they all have fake memories of who they are, being AI they are supposed to sort of act a certain way to maintain the immersion but at the end of the day, nothing before the game booted up really happened.
And benrey knows this, benrey knew from the beginning nothing was real, that he wasn’t human, how it ends, that no one actually dies, the works. I also headcanon that he became self aware during the AI model training stages, that the guy in charge of training his AI as Barney, broke him causing his self awareness and he was just launched into the beta game fully aware of the circumstances of his existence. I don’t think he was fully aware of how everything in game worked though.
but this to me is why he seems to constantly be changing his view of Gordon, antagonizing him one moment and then being friendly the next, his feelings about him are complex, he knows from the beginning he isn’t actually Gordon Freeman, but a guy just playing half life. Being a security guard, he’s programmed to protect Gordon with his life, but he knows this. He knows what’s compelling him to care for Gordon isn’t himself but lines of code he’s bound to, and this is why he antagonizes him. But that’s a whole different rant on its own lol
That sequence at the beginning of the bigger than the sky animatic was supposed to be a false memory, something he was supposed to think happened, but the version of Gordon he remembers isn’t real. This idea of ‘Gordon’ is a concept that only exists in these fake memories. (This is also why I think he never calls Gordon by name throughout the series, because he knows it’s not actually him (besides that one time but it doesn’t count bc it was for a bit lalala I can’t hear you))
there wasn’t much thought into the details of that part, like the coughing into the hand with the sweet voice, I really just put that bc I thought it looked dramatic and cool 😓
BUT on the topic of this big ass hc of mine, it actually is super important to a upcoming project im working on, and I realized throughout the story boarding it might need some explanation because it also has a lot of flash backs to some fake memories.
Sorry this got super rant-y I tried to keep it as short and simple as I could, I love hlvrai, I think about it literally every moment of my life and have so many hcs
#This hc in particular is so important to me#hlvrai#gordon freeman#benrey#Ask#answer#Rant#inkzectz#Benrey you mean the world to me 🥹
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The way I fell in love with this fic immediately!! OP has such a fantastic grasp on words, and pacing it fr had me completely entranced with the story. Jason and the reader felt so fleshed out and real that I just wanted to tuck them both into bed and tell them it's all going to be alright! I talk about my fav parts below the cut:
All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.
The stakes here are already giving me anxiety, mentally had to check if I had any high-stakes projects to take care of (I do not) but I am immersed and still feel like I do
Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.
Ugh this is so visceral, I can literally feel my chest tighten at this scene (But I'm also thinking about how terrible Gotham traffic is, like I know every other day you have to change your route home because some rouge decided to rob a bank and crash their getaway car)
He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.
ooooh, ow, that's heavy. The day has just been so awful and all you want is just a moment to yourself and when you finally think your space is safe there's another issue to deal with and there's blood on your cream carpet. What's worse is that you don't him to be consider an issue, but in the moment when you're already so drained and exhausted and he's only making things harder, it's difficult to consider him as anything else
Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.” He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap.
Ahhh, sobbing because it's not even an 'I'm sorry' and maybe normally you don't need it to be, but today it's just another thing drawing you closer and closer to breaking
But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.
Love this little insight, if it's not you, then it's no one, and he's been coming around long enough for you to know that
It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep.
!!! This line is such a standout for me, poetry fr
You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.
I looove the tension building here, it feels like bubble about to pop, a scream about to break the silence
You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.
SOBBING, wow, no words for this other than we all definitely need to cry
“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.” You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—” “Okay.” He goes quiet.
This whole interaction is written incredibly, it has me sucking in breath and my eyes going wide. There's just this heaviness with it, both of them are trying in their own way, but nothing is going to make you feel better right now. And there's an ache that they're both messing up? Like, maybe you're not going to want him to come back after this. Or maybe he won't want to, and the whole tentative relationship you've built will just vanish
Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.
oh no
“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor.
OH NO
“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.
!!! OP!!! OW!! I'm going to go stare into the void, but YOU need to go stare at a wall and think about what you've done
(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)
I gasped, but it's so true to his character for him to shut down when hurt
You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.
Art
One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand.
In awe of your way with words here, I can feel the hurt and the comfort with every line
Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch.
oooh, this action feel so big, so much, a line that you want to cross but neither of you are ready for
you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.
Yeah, wow, that's fantastic. This gets right to core of knowing Red Hod and wanting to know who's underneath, it's so compelling and I eat it up every time
He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could. You know why.
SCREAMING, I want to give them the world and wrap them up in blankets! Seriously, this fic is just so, so good. I loved every line, and I don't think I blinked the entire time. Jason felt so human, flawed, but still kind and good. Incredible work as always, OP!! 💙💙
you're good to me, baby
with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.
or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]
Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is type A and suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT
Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.
One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?
Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.
The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?
(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)
The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep.
It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)
After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.
The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.
When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.
Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe. There’s a half-pint of ice cream left in the freezer, you remember, and store that information for later.
You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.
“Jesus,” you mumble.
He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.
“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.
On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”
He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.
I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.
Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow.
It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam.
Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.
We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.
This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing.
It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?”
He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not.
“It’s fine,” you say, shortly.
“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”
You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”
“Okay.”
He goes quiet.
You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.
You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.
“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.
He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.
You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.
He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.
(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)
You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.
“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.
“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.
You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.
Another deep breath. Then another.
Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”
“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.
“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”
You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”
Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.
You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.
“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.
You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.
“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.
You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.
But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.
One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.
He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.
When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.
Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.
His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.
You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.
The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered.
“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”
“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.
He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.
You know why.
this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚
but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢
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Breaking News: A Love Beyond the Circuit
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Assigned to cover the Formula 1 season, you formed a friendly connection with Lando Norris through interviews and conversations. As the season continued, those friendly moments grew into something deeper.
The lights of the city distracted you as you closed your laptop, wrapping up another long day.
Covering the Formula 1 season was thrilling but exhausting at the same time.
Especially when it came to following the drivers, capturing their stories, and writing pieces that drew readers into the high-speed world of racing. Lando Norris has become one of your most frequent interviewees.
Not just because of his impressive skills on the track but because of his approachable, easy-going nature.
It also helped that the fans loved him.
Every conversation with him left you feeling lighter like you were speaking to an old friend rather than one of the sport’s brightest stars.
Your first interview with him was memorable.
He'd cracked jokes mid-answer, making you laugh despite your nervousness.
Over time, those interviews turned into casual chats in the paddock, he often brought you coffee or tea.
You couldn’t deny there was something special about him, but you kept things professional, convincing yourself it was just part of the job.
You tried your best to protect yourself.
That night, after the Monaco Grand Prix, Lando sent you a message: Dinner? No interviews. Just food and good company. I'm kinda lonely, Oscar is with his Miss.
You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Was this crossing a line? Probably.
But curiosity got the better of you.
Sure, you typed back. Where?
An hour later, you found yourself sitting across from him at a quiet restaurant hidden away from the busy streets.
The atmosphere was cosy yet still elegant.
Lando looked relaxed, a rare sight given the pressure he was usually under during race weekends.
“You know,” he said, breaking the silence as you both waited for your dinners, “it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t just see me as 'Lando Norris the F1 driver.'”
You tilted your head, surprised by his admission.
“Well, you’re more than that. You’re... Lando Norris, the guy who can make anyone laugh with a ridiculous joke.” He chuckled, his eyes meeting yours as they made your heart skip a beat.
“And you’re the only journalist who hasn’t tried to twist my words into some dramatic headline.” he said just as the waiter arrived.
The conversation flowed easily after that, weaving through topics of racing, travel, and life outside the circuit.
By the time dessert arrived, it felt less like a dinner with someone you were covering for work and more like a date.
“I have a confession,” Lando said, his voice quieter now. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers running around the edge of his glass. “I didn’t ask you to dinner just because I wanted to hang out. I like you. More than I probably should. I know your job makes this complicated, but... I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Your heart stopped beating.
“Lando... I’ve liked you too. I just didn’t think it was... possible. You’re you, and I’m just—”
“Someone who sees me for who I really am,” he interrupted gently. “And that means more to me than you can ever imagine.”
By the time he walked you back to your hotel, your heart felt full.
At the door, he hesitated, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet uncertainty.
“Can I see you again? Not as a journalist, but... as a date?”
“I’d like that.” you offered him a smile.
And as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, you knew that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.
A story not for headlines, but for your hearts.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris#lando norris imagines#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x fem reader#lando norris fanfiction#f1 mclaren fanfiction#f1 mclaren#f1 mclaren lando norris
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so i watched 2x22 "the wire" for the first time today and it was a near religious experience so you're getting my thoughts on it under the cut
I love how comfortable they've gotten with each other; talking books? disagreeing about books? garak asking if julian can't just use his status as a doctor to get them to skip the line?
"perfect health, huh??" julian is so offended by garak lying to him about his condition lol
"i'm a doctor, not a botanist" is this some kind of star trek tradition?
"why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "it sounds like you're taking this personally" "i suppose I am... It's just that garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now" once a week?! for more than a year?!
and then julian angrily stabbing dax's plant in frustration. let it out.
unsure if quark called julian to come get the absolutely hammered garak from his bar because he's the doctor or because julian is literally the only social contact quark could think of for garak???
"i prefer to drink somewhere quiet" "quiet? excellent idea... we'll go to my quarters" "whatever you want. but first i must make a stop at the infirmary" guess garak wasn't drunk enough for that little trick
but he was drunk enough to not notice the bottle hand-off to quark
"make it stop, make it stop..." aww no, poor baby!
julian using his doctor credentials to basically break into garak's. guess they ended up in his quarters after all
"if i was ever tortured, [the implant] was designed to stimulate the pleasure centers of my brain to trigger the production of vast amounts of natural endorphins" i gotta say, that has some freaky fucked up potential for fanfics and i can't wait to see how often it has been appropriated in the last 30 years
"living on this station is torture for me, doctor. the temperature is always too cold. the lights are always too bright. every bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt" ah yes, the autism experience
"why don't you just shut the damn thing off?" julian, do they teach nothing about addiction in med school?
i had to rewind this scene a couple times because i was chanting "kiss! kiss! kiss!" in my living room and didn't listen to a word they said. the 4:3 aspect ratio is also doing its thing
"has it ever occured to you that i might be getting exactly what i deserve?" "no one deserves this" julian going from all that taunting and appealing to garak's pride to this???? unexpected softness incoming
garak telling this story about how he is responsible for so many people dying and julian just saying right now he's just concerned for his health and won't let him die??? "you need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, i promise i'll help you through them" like this is insane. i assumed people shipped them for a reason (and lower decks made them "canon" for a reason) but i was LIVING watching this.
it also has to be said that andrew robinson is acting the ever living shit out of these scenes - fantastic
even odo can't get past protector mode chief medical officer doctor bashir
staying by his bedside? for hours???
shoulder touch denied!!!
it's wild, garak must be suffering so much in that moment but he's still spinning up some new potential backstory. maybe this time it's not a lie but we just don't know.
"and so they exiled you" "that's right! and left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you." "i'm sorry you feel that way. i thought you enjoyed my company." "oh i did! and that's the worst part. i can't belive that i actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face. i hate this place and i hate you." "ok, garak." addicts do get just absolutely hateful so this sounds pretty spot on to me.
on a side note, i don't think i could have done lunch every week with julian. he is smug and he has a big ego and i relate to the other senior officers who were sometimes a little condescending in their reactions when he was boasting about something or other. but that's ok, i don't have to. garak enjoyed it, it seems.
garak: you still have to learn the truth julian: heart eyes motherfucker
"why are you telling me this, garak?" "so that you can forgive me. why else? i need to know that someone forgives me"
"i forgive you. for whatever it is you did" "thank you, doctor. that's most kind"
so julian goes and finds the guy who's kind of responsible for garak having that implant in the first place. it's also i think the first time julian acknowledges they are friends?
"how sick is garak?" "he's dying" "and you're trying to save him?" "that's right" "strange... i thought you were his friend?" "i suppose i am" "then you should let him die. after all, for garak, a life in exile is no life at all"
"thank you" "don't thank me. i'm not doing garak any favors. he doesn't deserve a quick death. on the contrary. i want him to live a long, miserable life. i want him to grow old on that station surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again. "what a lovely sentiment" "and it's from the heart, i assure you" <- that made me laugh
we learn garak's first name!
he's well again! back to the regularly scheduled lunch date!
and he's got a new book recommendation for julian, how nice
"what i want to know out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't" "my dear doctor, they were all true" "even the lies?"
"especially the lies"
smiley boys!
this ended up being more of a collection of my favorite quotes from the episode but that's fine with me. it's my post.
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can you write one were reader is matts sister and Noahs best friend and the band always tease the shit out of them when their glued together? thank you:)
Subtle’s Overrated
Noah Sebastian x bsf!dierkes!reader
Summary: Y/N and Noah’s friendship sparks teasing and undeniable chemistry on tour, but when feelings finally surface, nothing—especially their bandmates—can keep them apart.
Words: 4k
Warnings: Teasing, Friends to Lovers, Use of Alcohol, Mention of smoking weed, I din't proofread it so maybe there's gonna be mistakes. lmk if i forgot something.
Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.
The airport was buzzing with early morning activity, travelers pulling their luggage through the terminal, announcements echoing overhead. You were leaning against one of the sleek chrome pillars, your carry-on by your feet, scrolling through your phone to pass the time.
Noah was right beside you, as usual. He had his arms crossed, a hoodie tugged over his messy hair, and he was squinting at the boarding pass in his hand like it was written in hieroglyphics.
"I swear they make these things harder to read every year," he muttered, flipping it over like the back might offer some hidden insight.
"It’s not a riddle, Noah," you said with a laugh, reaching out to snatch it from him. "Gate 22. Terminal C. You’ve been doing this for years, and you still act like it’s your first time at an airport."
"Not all of us are travel pros like you, princess," he shot back, smirking as he leaned casually into your space.
Before you could reply, a loud wolf whistle interrupted the moment.
"Ah, look at ‘em! Joined at the hip, as always!" Nick Folio’s voice carried across the terminal as he walked over, balancing a precariously large coffee in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. "Should we just start planning the wedding now?"
"Shut up, Folio," you groaned, rolling your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your nonchalance.
"Yeah, shut up, Folio," Noah parroted, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. "Jealousy’s a bad look on you."
Nick feigned hurt, clutching his chest. "Jealous? Me? Never. I just think you two make a cute couple."
"Do you ever let up?" Jolly chimed in as he approached, his bag slung over one shoulder. "I mean, they’ve been attached at the hip since day one, and nothing’s happened yet. Maybe they’re just... eternal besties."
"Or they’re both in denial," Matt teased, appearing out of nowhere and clapping Noah on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Classic slow burn."
"Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at your older brother.
"Hey," Matt replied, grinning. "Just calling it like I see it. And as your big brother, it’s my job to keep the guy glued to your side in line."
"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head as the rest of the group laughed.
"Big brother or not, you’re still a pain," Noah quipped, though there was no malice in his tone.
"As if you’re one to talk," Matt retorted, pointing at him. "If I had a dollar for every time you’ve mooched off her snacks, I’d be retired by now."
The group chuckled, and even you couldn’t help but crack a smile. This was the usual routine, and as much as you liked to complain about it, it was comforting in a way.
As the teasing died down, Nicholas Ruffilo joined the circle, pulling out his phone. "So," he began, "who’s gonna be the one to lose their luggage this time?"
"My money’s on Noah," Jolly said without hesitation.
"Why me?" Noah protested, looking genuinely offended.
"You lost your passport twice last year," Jolly replied flatly.
"That’s different!"
"How?"
"Uh, it just is," Noah said, his argument faltering as you snorted.
"I’ll help you keep track of your stuff this time," you offered, patting his shoulder mockingly.
"You’re a saint," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "An angel sent to save me from myself."
"Don’t encourage him," Matt groaned, shaking his head.
The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the boarding process for your flight. Matt immediately took charge, ushering everyone toward the gate.
"Alright, lovebirds, let’s move it," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"We’re not—"
"Save it," Nick interrupted, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the group started walking. "We all know it’s just a matter of time."
You exchanged a glance with Noah, who shrugged with a small, amused smile. It was the same old joke, but this time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
As you reached the gate, Noah fell into step beside you, close enough that your arms brushed. "You ever feel like they know something we don’t?" he asked quietly, just for you to hear.
"All the time," you admitted, your voice just as soft.
The moment hung in the air for a beat too long before Matt’s voice broke it. "Hurry up, or we’re leaving you behind!"
With a shared smirk, you and Noah picked up the pace, falling into step with the rest of the band.
The plane was relatively quiet as everyone settled into their usual spots. You slid into the window seat with a satisfied sigh, propping your backpack under the seat in front of you. Noah dropped into the middle seat beside you, and Folio followed, plopping down with a dramatic groan.
“Man, who made planes so cramped?” Folio grumbled, stretching his legs as far as they could go without hitting the seat in front of him.
“Quit complaining, Folio,” Matt called from his aisle seat, shooting him a look over Ruffilo’s head. “You know it’s worse on the tour bus.”
“True, but at least I don’t get stuck in the middle of these two on the bus.” Folio gestured to you and Noah. “You’re like magnets, always leaning into each other.”
“Jealous you’re not in the middle?” Noah quipped, earning a snort from Jolly.
“Nah, man. I just don’t want to be collateral damage when this whole slow-burn romance finally combusts,” Folio said, winking at you.
You groaned and shoved his arm lightly. “You guys really need new material.”
“Maybe we’ll stop when you two finally admit it,” Jolly chimed in, earning a chorus of agreement from the others.
Noah just smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Keep dreaming, guys.”
As the plane took off and the initial excitement of the flight settled down, everyone fell into their own routines. Matt pulled out his laptop, muttering something about emails, while Ruffilo popped in his earbuds and started sketching on his tablet. Folio tapped away on his phone, and Jolly was already half-asleep, head tilted against the window.
You glanced at Noah, who was scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “What are you looking at?” you asked softly.
“Nothing interesting,” he said, tilting the screen toward you briefly before locking it. “You thinking of sleeping?”
“Maybe,” you replied with a yawn, leaning your head back. “Flights always make me sleepy.”
“You always knock out within the first hour,” he teased, grinning.
“Can’t help it,” you murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep. Without thinking, you shifted slightly, leaning your headagainst Noah’s shoulder. It wasn’t the first time, and judging by the way he didn’t even flinch, it wasn’t a big deal to him, either.
Time passed, and you drifted off, your breathing evening out as the noise of the plane faded into the background.
It wasn’t long before the teasing began.
“Look at him,” Jolly whispered from across the aisle, his voice low but just loud enough for Noah to hear. “He looks like he’s holding his breath.”
“I think he’s afraid to move,” Ruffilo added, smirking. “Wouldn’t want to wake her, huh?”
“I’m not afraid to move,” Noah said defensively, though he kept his voice quiet so as not to wake you. “I just don’t want her to wake up cranky.”
“Oh, sure,” Matt interjected, leaning forward to get a better look. “That’s a real heroic excuse. But let’s be honest, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Noah shot him a look. “You’re her brother. Shouldn’t you be discouraging this kind of teasing?”
“Should I?” Matt said, feigning deep thought. “Nah, this is too much fun.”
“Careful, Noah,” Folio added, nudging him. “You keep letting her nap on you, and the next thing you know, you’ll be the designated human pillow.”
“Already am,” Noah muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone.
The ribbing continued for a bit longer before everyone settled back into their respective distractions. Noah shifted slightly, trying to keep his arm from going numb under your weight. Despite the teasing, he couldn’t help but smile faintly at how peaceful you looked.
As the captain announced the descent, Noah gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, we’re landing soon. Time to wake up.”
You stirred, blinking sleepily and taking a moment to realize where you were. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.
“Don’t apologize,” Noah said, his voice soft. “You looked like you needed it.”
From across the aisle, Jolly piped up, “Did you get any drool on him this time?”
“Jolly!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing as the rest of the band burst out laughing.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Jolly said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
Noah just smirked, grabbing your carry-on from under the seat. “Ignore them. They’re just mad they don’t have someone to nap on.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled as everyone prepared to disembark.
The airport was bustling with activity as you and the band made your way outside, your bags in tow. In the bus parking lot, your familiar tour bus stood waiting. Its sleek exterior and logo had become a second home over the years.
As you approached, Folio let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, the tour bus. Where dreams of legroom come to die.”
You climbed aboard with Noah right behind you. As expected, you both took the booths across from each other—the same ones you’d claimed on every tour since your first. He threw his backpack onto the seat before flopping down, stretching his long legs.
“Surprise, surprise,” Matt said as he followed behind. “You two gravitate toward each other like it’s magnetic.”
“Yeah, we get it, Matt,” you replied, rolling your eyes but smiling. “Maybe we just like consistency.”
“Consistency, huh?” Jolly drawled, sliding into a booth further back. “Sure it’s not because you two can’t go five minutes without making googly eyes at each other?”
Noah shot him a look. “You’re projecting, man.”
“Yeah, totally projecting,” you chimed in, grinning.
“Call it what you want,” Matt teased as he threw his bag into the seat beside him, “but it’s only a matter of time before we’re writing ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ on the bus windows.”
Ruffilo smirked. “Or printing it on the next batch of merch.”
“You guys are insufferable,” you muttered, trying to suppress your laughter.
The drive to the venue was filled with similar banter, the kind that made the long hours on the road bearable. When the bus finally pulled into the lot behind the venue, everyone piled out, stretching and groaning after the ride.
Inside, the band got straight to work setting up for soundcheck. You wandered into the sound booth where Matt was stationed, helping coordinate with the crew.
“You’re still gonna be my unpaid assistant this tour, right?” he asked, grinning as you leaned against the console.
“Of course,” you said with mock enthusiasm. “Living the dream.”
As the band began their soundcheck, you couldn’t help but watch Noah. He was in his element, mic in hand, his voice effortlessly commanding the space. The way he moved, the focus in his expression—it was mesmerizing.
“Subtle,” Matt said dryly, breaking your trance.
“Huh?” You turned to him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.
“Your staring,” he teased. “You’re not exactly sneaky about it.”
“I’m just watching the sound levels,” you lied, feigning nonchalance.
Matt chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
The band wrapped up soundcheck, and everyone took a break before the show. Back in the green room, the teasing resumed as everyone grabbed snacks and drinks.
“Are we gonna have to peel you two apart again tonight?” Jolly asked, smirking as he sipped his water.
“Not unless you want to lose a limb,” Noah shot back, earning a laugh from Folio.
“Relax, man,” Folio said. “We’re just pointing out the obvious. You two are like those couples in rom-coms—everyone knows what’s coming except you.”
“We’re not a couple,” you said, exasperated. “Can we change the subject?”
“No,” Ruffilo replied immediately, earning a high-five from Jolly.
As showtime approached, you found yourself backstage, the energy in the venue electrifying. The band took the stage, and you couldn’t help but sing along and dance to every song, caught up in the moment.
From where you stood, you could see Noah glancing your way more than once, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught your eye.
When the show ended, the crowd’s cheers still echoing in your ears, you were more than hyped. The moment Noah stepped offstage, sweaty and flushed from the performance, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
“Y/N,” he laughed, his voice still rough from singing. “I’m literally soaked in sweat.”
“I don’t care,” you said, grinning as you held on tighter.
“Aww,” Jolly cooed from behind you. “A post-show love fest.”
“Jealous?” Noah shot back, his arms briefly tightening around you before he pulled away, though his smile lingered.
Before you could respond, Matt approached, crossing his arms as he looked at the two of you. “Still hugging, huh?”
“Don’t start,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real bite.
“I’ll start if I want to,” Matt said, smirking. “But I’ve got a better idea. Drinks to celebrate the first show?”
Noah glanced at you, his brow quirking. “What do you think?”
“Sounds perfect,” you replied, still buzzing with excitement.
“Great,” Matt said, clapping his hands. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”
The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with music and chatter as you and the band made your way to the VIP section. The staff had cordoned off a cozy corner for you, complete with plush leather couches and a low table littered with menus and coasters.
Matt was quick to take charge, ordering the first round of drinks. He came back carrying a tray with an assortment of glasses, grinning like he’d just won a prize.
“To the first show of the tour!” he declared, raising his glass.
“To surviving another tour without killing each other,” Jolly added dryly, earning a laugh from the group as everyone clinked glasses.
The night unfolded in a haze of laughter, stories, and an ever-growing pile of empty glasses. It wasn’t long before Folio and Matt were deep into their cups, leaning heavily into their drunken states.
Folio slumped back into the couch, a lazy grin on his face. “Damn, I’m so drunk,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling. “Shouldn’t have smoked that joint during the show.”
You and Noah, seated next to each other on the crowded couch, exchanged amused glances and laughed quietly at Folio’s confession.
“What’s so funny?” Folio slurred, his glassy eyes focusing on the two of you. Then he paused, squinting as if his vision had just betrayed him. “Wait a minute… are you… sitting on his lap?”
Your cheeks immediately flushed as you realized he was right. The couches were too crowded, and at some point, you’d perched yourself on Noah’s lap to make room. It had felt casual—comfortable even—but now, under Folio’s scrutiny, it was anything but.
“Uh, yeah,” you said, trying to play it cool. “There’s no room.”
“No room,” Folio repeated, his grin widening. “Sure, let’s call it that.”
“Here we go,” Noah muttered under his breath, his arm resting lightly around your waist to keep you steady.
Folio leaned forward, as much as his inebriated state allowed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re awfully cozy for two people who are ‘just friends.’”
“It’s practical,” you countered, though your voice lacked conviction.
“Practical,” Matt chimed in, sliding onto the couch beside Jolly with his drink in hand. His face was flushed, his grin even wider than usual. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”
“Oh, come on,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
“No, no, let’s explore this,” Matt said, clearly delighted. “You’re telling me, out of all the space in this VIP section, the only place you could sit is on Noah’s lap?”
“Exactly,” Noah said with a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “It’s basic physics.”
“Physics,” Matt repeated, laughing. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Better than whatever logic you’re using to justify that shirt,” Noah shot back, gesturing at Matt’s garishly patterned button-up.
“Deflection,” Folio sang, pointing at Noah like he’d cracked some great mystery. “Classic deflection.”
“You two are unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Unbelievable? No, no, no,” Matt said, his voice full of mock indignation. “What’s unbelievable is that you’ve been in each other’s pockets for years, and you’re still pretending nothing’s going on.”
Folio nodded vigorously, almost spilling his drink. “They’re like… like one of those slow-cooking stews. Taking forever, but you know it’s gonna be good when it’s done.”
Noah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I think it’s time to get these two to bed.”
You nodded, standing up and grabbing Folio’s arm. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go.”
“I’m fine!” Folio protested, though he made no effort to resist as you and Noah guided him out of the booth.
“You’re fine, huh?” Noah said, steadying him when he stumbled. “Tell that to your liver.”
Behind you, Jolly and Ruffilo waved lazily from the booth. “We’ll hang out a bit longer,” Ruffilo called. “Good luck with those two.”
The walk back to the bus was anything but quiet.
“You two looked real comfortable back there,” Matt teased, slurring slightly but still sharp enough to make you groan.
“It’s not like that,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, focusing on getting him up the bus steps.
“Sure, sure,” Folio chimed in, leaning heavily on Noah. “Bet you’re just gonna sit on his lap the whole tour, huh?”
“Folio, shut up,” Noah said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.
Once you got them into their bunks—after much coaxing and a few more poorly aimed jokes—you and Noah retreated to the living room section at the back of the bus. It was quiet now, the gentle hum of the bus’s engine filling the space.
You sank onto the couch, exhaling a long breath. “Well, that was… something.”
“Every tour starts like this,” Noah said, sitting across from you. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the top of the couch. “It’s like a rite of passage.”
You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t start singing wedding bells on the way back.”
“Oh, give them time,” he replied with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. A comfortable silence settled between you, and when you glanced up, you caught Noah watching you, his head tilted slightly, a faint smirk on his lips.
“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing.
“Nothing,” he said, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise.
“Come on,” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “What’s that look for?”
He shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“You,” he said simply, his voice low but teasing.
Noah’s smirk didn’t waver, his gaze steady and warm as he leaned slightly closer. The faint hum of the bus seemed louder in the quiet.
“What about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, curiosity and nervousness mingling in your tone.
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully, and then his lips curved into a gentle smile. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”
Your breath caught for a second, and you blinked at him, taken off guard. “What?”
He chuckled, the sound low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual confidence. “I’m serious. You are.”
A flush crept up your neck as you tried to find your voice. “Noah…”
“What?” he teased, leaning his elbows on his knees, his body angled toward you. “Can’t I say something nice without you getting all flustered?”
“I’m not flustered,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Right,” he said with a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling.
You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Why now? What’s with the sudden compliments?”
He shrugged, his expression softening. “Maybe it’s not sudden. Maybe I’ve always thought it, but I’m just bad at saying it out loud.”
Your heart thudded in your chest at his words. “You think… you think they were right all this time? About us?”
“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady and leaving no room for doubt.
Your stomach dropped a little. “Oh.”
He tilted his head, studying your reaction, and then his lips quirked into a small smile. “I don’t think they were right. I know they were.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his hand lightly brushing against your knee. The air between you felt charged, the space too small yet not enough.
And then he kissed you.
It started slow, tentative, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft, warm, and they lingered against yours just long enough for your breath to hitch. When you didn’t pull away—when you leaned into him, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders—it deepened.
Noah’s hand slid to your waist, guiding you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. The world outside the bus seemed to disappear, leaving only the quiet hum of the engine and the racing of your heartbeat.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled you onto his lap without hesitation. The moment felt electric, the years of teasing, tension, and unspoken words finally snapping into place.
His lips moved against yours with a fervor that sent your mind spinning. You shifted slightly, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hands rested firmly on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
It was as if nothing else mattered, just the two of you finally crossing an invisible line that had been drawn so long ago.
And then—
“Damn, I’m wayyy too dizzy to sleep in that tiny bunk—” Folio’s voice cut through the haze, slurred but loud enough to make you both freeze.
Your head whipped around, your eyes wide, as Folio stumbled into the living room. He stopped mid-step, his eyes blinking rapidly as they focused on the scene in front of him.
“Oh,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of shock and amusement. “Ohhhhhh.”
You scrambled off Noah’s lap, your cheeks burning hotter than the sun as you tried to compose yourself. Noah, on the other hand, stayed seated, though he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and bemusement.
“Folio,” you started, your voice a pitch higher than normal. “What are you doing up?”
He pointed vaguely in the direction of the bunks. “Too dizzy. Needed air. Did not expect to walk into… whatever this is.”
“This isn’t… it’s not—” you stammered, flailing for words.
Folio smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “Nah, don’t stop on my account. Just… maybe put a sock on the door next time or something?”
“Go to bed, Folio,” Noah said, his tone exasperated but still holding a hint of a smile.
Folio gave a mock salute before stumbling back toward the bunks, muttering something about how the tour was going tobe very interesting.
As soon as he was out of earshot, you buried your face in your hands. “Oh my God.”
Noah chuckled, his hand reaching out to tug gently at your wrist, pulling your hands away. “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I imagined this going.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, though your face was still flaming. “So much for subtle.”
“Subtle’s overrated anyway,” he said, his smirk returning as he pulled you back down beside him.
Taglist: @courta13
A/N: Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this as a mini-series. Also, my asks are always open—feel free to request anything!
#fanfiction#noah sebastian x ofc#noah sebastian#Noah Sebastian x reader#Noah Sebastian x bsf!reader#bsf!reader#noah sebastian davis#noah bad omens#Dierkes!reader#friends to lovers#slow burn#best friends to lovers#tour#bad omens cult#bad omens fanfiction#multifandom account#multi fandom blog#multifandom writer#noah sebastian fluff#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction
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Ministry Party
Sirius Black x fem!Slytherin!reader
series masterlist
5.6k words
cw: swearing, fluff, Y/N
All of the Slytherin girls were going home for Christmas so your train compartment was packed like usual. Beatrice was gushing over her parents’ plans to take her to Paris during the break and how she planned on meeting a Beauxbaton boy for some holiday romance. Cora and Pandora were listening intently, but you stared out the window. You weren’t really interested in the love story that wasn’t likely to happen. After a while, Dorcas excused herself, saying something about going to find Marlene’s compartment.
“So, Y/N, do you have any plans for break?” Cora asked once the door slid shut.
“Mum and Dad are a bit pissed about my grades so probably studying? Bit dull, I know,” you said uninterested.
What else were you supposed to say? Your parents might host a party where you’ll get drunk and grounded for the rest of break? You weren’t traveling. You didn’t daydream about meeting some boy on the streets around your house. If you were lucky, your mum would take you shopping so you could get gifts for everyone. More likely than not, you’d spend most of the break in your house, doing nothing too exciting.
Cora frowned with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Well, what’s no fun. Bea, you should abduct her! Take her to Paris with you!”
Beatrice smiled. “Yeah! Oh, you’d love it! It’s beautiful and the food and the wine!”
“I’d be forever in your debt if you stole me away,” you replied teasingly, although you did want to stop her from ranting on and on about the wonders of Paris again. “I’ll be lucky if I get to leave my neighborhood. No way Mum’s letting me leave the country.”
“Evan and I’ll be home. You should come visit,” Pandora says. “Wouldn’t be leaving the country.”
You gave a haughty laugh at that. “Oh, please. Do we need to cover how my parents can be? My mum would say she never gets to see me and I see you all term. It’s no use.”
“That’s not very hopeful,” Pandora scolded.
“My home isn’t hopeful. It’s where hopes go to die.”
The air in the compartment seemed to thicken. It felt like you had revealed a part of your home life that you usually kept behind closed doors. You didn’t know what they expected though. You stole from just about every store you went into and from people you thought needed to be taught a lesson. You had an ability to get alcohol and hide it somewhere in Hogwarts. You got a few bad grades and now your entire break would likely be forced revisions with your father telling you that your grades are a reflection of your future income; he had been a top student in all of his muggle schools. He would tell you that he didn’t get to where he was by slacking off.
“Now that I think of it, I can’t say Evan will be around all of break,” Pandora mused out loud after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
“Junior?” Cora asked.
“Junior,” she confirmed. “Ev never brings him around and I know they don’t go to Junior’s. Not actually sure where they go…”
“Don’t you have twin telepathy or something?” Beatrice asked.
The three girls laughed. You sat in silence, thinking about all the snide comments your parents would make. You were flexing your hands and cracking your knuckles unconsciously. Or maybe you did realize that you were doing it. It was somehow soothing. The repetitive pops from your fingers was a quiet symphony to you.
---
As you had predicted, being at home wasn’t a picnic. Your father gave a rant about grades and how important they were. Your mother said it was a blessing that Professor Slughorn didn’t drop you from his Slug Club. They insisted you revise everything that was covered in the semester. After the first two days back, however, the house was eerily quiet. You received and responded to letters from your room. You studied. You would reread spell books on the couch in the conservatory. Your mother would bring you the occasional cup of tea, but you knew it was more to check on your progress than an act of kindness.
“Y/N, come on! We need to get going!” your mum called up the stairs on Christmas Eve.
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom. It had been a while since you wore an actual dress. You wore skirts at school, but this was different. Your mother had picked it out, along with a pair of heels. It felt like a bit much. You looked through your jewelry box and frowned. Nothing looked like what you were picturing in your head to go with the dress. Then you remembered your school jewelry box that was at the bottom of your trunk. You dig it out and unlock it. You let out a small laugh as you hold up Williams’ necklace before putting it on. It looked perfect. You glance at Regulus’ ring. No. You relocked the box and grabbed a few rings from your normal jewelry collection.
You poked your head out of the door. “Mum! Can I borrow some earrings?”
You hear her sigh impatiently. “Yes, but be quick!”
You hurried into your parents’ room and took a quick look through her boxes. You grabbed the first pair of silver hoops that you could find. Then you met your mother by the front door.
“Oh, that’s a lovely bracelet. When’d you get that?”
You looked down at your wrist. It was the tennis bracelet from Madam Malkin’s.
“Not sure. Found it in my room over the summer,” you answered.
The two of you got into the car where your father was waiting for you.
“So, it’s Christmas Eve. I’m dressed up. You’re both very dressed up. Where are we going?” you asked from the back seat.
“You haven’t told her yet? No wonder she willingly got into the car,” you dad said, giving you a look in the reflection of the rearview mirror.
You did not like the sound of that.
“We are all going to the Ministry’s Christmas party,” your mother said shortly.
You let out a groan and threw your head back against the headrest. “I should’ve stayed at school!”
“Y/N…” your mother warned.
No one spoke for the rest of the drive. Your father put on music at some point to break up the silence. The Christmas party was for sucking up to some of the Ministry’s biggest donors and influences. It was stuffy and boring. None of your friends were ever there and the bartenders were determined to only serve those of age. Worst of all, you didn’t have a room you could easily retreat to to avoid it all.
When you arrived and your parents got out of the car, you stayed seated. You didn’t even unbuckle. Your mother opened your door and glared.
“Come on, Y/N/ Out.”
“No,” you said with a softness to your voice. “I’m good here. I’ll see you when it’s over.”
“Darling, listen to your mother. You’re coming in,” your father insisted.
He reached in and unbuckled you. You let out a noise of protest. Then he put his arm around you and forcibly removed you from your seat.
“Hey, hey, hey! Stop!”
Another couple arriving gave your family odd looks as they walked up to the building.
“You need to learn to carry yourself like a proper young lady or you’ll never get any respect,” your mother snapped at you. “That includes going to events you don’t want to be at. You must act respectable tonight. These are my employers!”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I’ll just burn high society to the ground.”
Your mother chose to ignore your comment. She led you and your father into the building, greeting her coworkers and the event workers politely. Your father walked slightly behind you to make sure that you didn’t make a run for it. Once inside and without coats, he took his wife’s arm and walked with her, leaving you to either follow them or make it on your own. You scanned the room. Like usual and as expected, you saw no one your age. You recognized a few people from your parents’ smaller parties. You sighed. Then you realized that you lost your parents in the crowd. Apparently, if you stop walking for a moment, they speed off without you, despite saying they would keep an eye on you to make sure you behaved. You spotted a bench just off to the side. That would be your spot for the evening, you thought. As you sat down, you tried to suppress the urge to bang your head against the wall.
“Orion and Walburga Black! Welcome!” you heard an event work say.
“You brought your sons, how lovely,” one of your mother’s coworkers said.
“Yes, they’re getting old enough to attend these events now,” a voice that must have been Walburga said.
“Turning into young gentlemen,” Orion added, pride in his voice.
“Welcome, Regulus and Sirius!” the event worker said.
That made you want to bang your head against the wall even more. You turned your head just in time to see the family walk forward. You could see them all exchanging words, but in hushed tones. You assumed the boys didn’t want to be here as much as you did. Then you saw both of them spot you at the same time. You pretended not to see them, leaning back on the bench and closing your eyes.
“I see a classmate,” Sirius said smoothly, his voice no longer hushed. “I’ll find you when it’s time to go.”
“Go with him,” Walburga instructed Regulus. “Keep him out of trouble.”
With your eyes shut, you didn’t see him nod and follow his brother toward you. They stood in front of you with their hands in their pockets. They stood there in silence for a moment as you kept your eyes shut. You knew they were standing there, but you hoped they would leave if you ignored them.
“Y/N,” Sirius said.
You opened your eyes slowly.
“Maybe I was asleep?” you suggested flatly, looking from one brother to the other. “Not buying it? Eh, worth an attempt.”
“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked coldly.
“Mum works for the Ministry. I’ve told you.”
Sirius gave his brother a sideways glance.
“Been to this event before?” he asked, sitting down on your left.
Regulus sat down on your right. You felt awkward and could feel yourself blushing. You would have endless questions from your mother if she managed to see you like this.
“Sadly, yes. I’ve managed to get out of a few, but, alas, not this year.”
“How… how long is it?” Regulus asked.
“Feels like twenty questions. You two have 17 left. But at least until 10. If they can’t get people to clear out, it goes longer.”
“What do we do?” Sirius asked.
“Sixteen,” you counted. “I usually do whatever I can do to pass the time. Rubbing elbows with Ministry members and who they consider as elite isn’t really my cup of tea.”
The ‘who they consider as elite’ made Regulus uncomfortable. You knew it would and it was only confirmed by him shifting in his seat. Sirius, however, seemed unfazed by it.
“Food? Drink?” Sirius questioned.
“Food is passed around on trays. Not horrible. Desserts are top tier. Drinks, you have to go through the bartenders at their stations.”
“Hm, that’s not going to do,” Sirius said, standing up. “Care to dance?”
He held out a hand to you. You just stared at it. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw the expression on Regulus’ face; it wasn’t pleasant. You took Sirius’ hand and he led you to the dance floor.
“Any reason we just left your brother on the bench?” you asked him, casting a quick glance back to were Regulus was still sitting.
The younger boy’s face was stoney. Sirius laughed as he took your waist. Automatically, your arms went around his neck. You swayed to the slow song that was playing.
“Oh, he’ll get over it. He would like to rub elbows with the Ministry-deemed elite. And from what I’ve heard, you and I, we’re cut from the same cloth.”
Rolling your eyes, you asked, “And what have you heard?”
“That you got Hog’s Head to serve you something other than butterbeer and then left after he found out you’re not pureblood.”
You scoffed. “Is that all? Because I’m sure as hell more than that.”
“Let me think,” he paused. “You’re the source of the drinks at Slytherin parties. You defended that Hufflepuff at the beginning of the year.”
Your hand came down to touch the necklace you stole because of that event.
“You’re not too bad at school, and people like you.”
“You have to be liked to be in the Slug Club,” you said, unimpressed.
The music changed to a waltz and you both changed how you were holding each other.
“I don’t think being in the Club is your entire goal.”
“It’s not. Getting out alive is.”
“Huh…” Sirius said with a chuckle. “Who’s trying to kill you at Hogwarts?”
“Well, no one right now. That’s the perk of being well-liked.”
“I suppose it would be. I also know that you’re pretty and I’ve told as much. I told you that before Reg even asked you out.”
“You were drunk out of your mind,” you reminded him. “I could smell the whiskey on you before you got in my personal space.”
Sirius laughed. “And what I wouldn’t give to be that drunk again. Gives a little extra confidence-”
“Not that you need it,” you cut him off.
“If there’s more to you than being a half blood, then there’s more to me than my confidence.”
You looked over where Regulus had been sitting. He was no longer there. You assumed he went to find his parents or talk up some higher up Ministry worker. You noticed that several people were watching you and Sirius as you traveled around the dance floor.
“Where did you learn to dance anyways?” you asked him.
“Mother had me ‘n’ Reg take private lessons over the past few summers. You?”
“I went to a few classes two summers ago. Mum wants me to be a well-rounded young lady,” you laughed. “She still won’t drop it.”
“You’re well rounded in some parts,” he leaned in to whisper.
“Oh fuck off!” you scoffed. “Don’t make me slap you when you were actually being tolerable.”
“What do you mean by actually being tolerable? I’m a constant delight.”
“Maybe to Potter and Lupin and Petticoat.”
“Pettigrew.”
“Whatever. You say you’re more than your confidence but then you showcase your ego that’s up your arse.”
“Like you don’t have an ego?”
“My ego is earned.”
Sirius laughed.
“Besides a handful of house points, what’s your ego for?”
“Being liked and being able to handle it.”
He rolled his eyes, causing you to glare at him. You couldn’t believe you were still dancing, but you couldn’t seem to let go of him.
“That doesn’t earn you an ego. There has to be something more. I can earn house points. People like me. I can handle it. What’s the difference between you and me?”
“I… I… I’m not obnoxious when I’m being myself,” you found yourself saying.
The song ended and you took the opportunity to let go of him. You hurried off the dance floor and disappeared into the sea of people. Sirius stood still in the middle of the dance floor, watching you run away from him. Part of him wanted to follow you and get a real answer for why you thought you were better than him. By the time he decided that he did want to go after you and reached the edge of the crowd, you were long gone. He sighed and pushed his way through people. He kept an eye out for Regulus or his parents. It felt right that he should be avoiding them; it’s not like he wanted to be associated with them anyways. Unless someone was saying ‘the Blacks’ son, the one that’s nothing like them.’
You saw Regulus talking to the head of the Department of Magical Transportation. Your mother complained about him a bit; he was a source of plenty of paperwork. They seemed deep in conversation, which made you smile. You did admire how he could put aside his feelings to get down to business. But, like Sirius said, you just weren’t cut from the same cloth. You could tolerate each other most of the time, but his stance on blood status was a real killer. You turned to walk in the opposite direction.
“It must be my birthday,” you muttered to yourself, smiling.
A full glass of wine was left unattended at a table. You casually walked over and picked it up. You took a sip and grimaced. It wasn’t your favorite nor a drink you would pick out for yourself in just about any other situation, but when you weren’t being served by the bartenders, you took what you could get. Holding the glass close to your chest, you walked away from the table and back towards the bench where you had originally been sitting. You involuntarily held your breath until you saw it. No Sirius nor Regulus nor your parents in sight. Coast was clear. You sat down and watched the people on the dance floor. When a song that required ballroom dancing or a waltz or something similar, it was amazing how many people flocked to the floor. If it was something more modern or something without well-known choreography, the floor emptied out more. You could tell that one group of younger employees were the interns your mother told you about. They joined the floor when the older songs ended and moderns stuff played, as they should, you thought.
“So, you found yourself a drink. Thought they didn’t serve underage people,” Sirius said, leaning against the wall next to your bench.
“Go away, Black. Didn’t you get the hint that I was done with you?”
“Ah, that’s the problem though. I wasn’t done talking to you and, well, I get what I want.”
You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. He had loosened his tie and his shirt was less tucked than it originally was.
“Fine,” you said curtly. “Talk. Can’t promise I’ll respond.”
He took a seat on your left, just like before, except this side, he was sitting sideways with his right leg propped up so he could rest his arm on his knee and be facing you. You returned your gaze to the dance floor.
“I want a real answer for why you’re better than me. Not obnoxious? Please.”
“I never said I was better than you. I said my ego was earned.”
“Same difference.”
“I don’t intentionally piss people off. I don’t purposefully make fools of people. I don’t step too far out of line.”
“You wore Regulus’ ring after things went south between you,” Sirius said.
Your breath hitched. You had to look at Sirius. How had he known? His grey eyes were boring holes into the side of your head so when you turned to look at him in surprise, he was already staring very deeply. A knowing smile appeared on his face when he saw your surprise.
“At a loss for words?”
You pressed your lips together as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“No,” you said coldly. You tried to steel your expression into something blank. “I just don’t recall which ring you’re talking about.”
A lie, but you didn’t know how much the brothers talked.
“Regulus give you more than one?”
“He never gave me a ring.” Not a lie.
“So you just happen to have a silver ring with emeralds in the same design as one my uncle gave Regulus, huh?”
“Apparently so.”
“And you just happen to have the same necklace that I’ve seen that seventh year wear?”
His eyes flicked down to your necklace and back up to your eyes. You frowned. There was no way Sirius knew. How could he know? Sure, the girls knew about your sticky fingers, but that was it. You studied Sirius’ handsome face instead of responding.
Then his expression changed.
“Oh. He never gave you that ring.”
Sirius was connecting the dots.
“He found out that you’re not pureblood and now you have that ring.” He paused and you swore you could see the gears turning in his head. “That girl nearly attacked a Hufflepuff and you have that necklace. And the bartenders aren’t serving you yet you have a wine glass…”
“What about it?” you asked, trying your best to keep your voice level as if that would somehow convince Sirius that he was wrong when he was absolutely correct.
“You fancy yourself a vigilante,” he said nonchalantly. He said it like an off-handed comment that meant nothing. His grin widened with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Told you we’re cut from the same cloth.”
You rolled your eyes before taking a sip from your glass. You swirled the liquid around. Part of you regretted responding to Sirius when he asked why you thought you were better than him. Now he knew too much. He took the glass out of your hand and had a sip himself. You snatched it back, giving him an annoyed look.
“Get your own,” you grumbled.
“Darling, you know I can’t. Unless you tell me where you got yours.”
You sighed, but maybe this would get him to leave you alone.
“Found it on a table. It’s the only way to do it around here.”
Sirius stood up and stretched dramatically. Then he held out his hand to you again.
“Help me find one.”
You lazily looked up at him with a confused look.
“It wasn’t a question, love.”
The look changed from confused to annoyed in a flash. He reached to grab your free hand and pulled you up.
“No need to be rough,” you snarled.
“Come on,” he said, his smile never leaving his face. “Hanging out with me? Helping me find my own drink? Gotta be better than sitting by yourself.”
You drained the glass before setting it down on the bench.
“Let’s find me another one too, then.”
You were conflicted with how you felt about Sirius never dropping your hand as he led you through the throngs of people. Whenever you got too close to his parents or Regulus, he pulled you in the other direction and you did the same when you got too close to your own parents.
“I’ll never hear the end of it if they see me with you,” you hissed at him, earning a hearty laugh from him.
“They can recognize a Black from a singular glance?”
“No. You’re just a boy.”
After a few circles of the tables, you both had collected new drinks. Sirius had yet to drop your hand. He pulled you back toward the bench where all of this had begun, but then he kept walking. He turned down a hallway and through a door; you were dragged with him. He certainly had an iron grip. After going down another hallway, he opened another door.
“Perfect,” he said as he let your hand go at last.
You followed him into the room. It looked like a normal conference room. There was a long table down the middle of the room with chairs along its edges and a podium at the front of the room. Sirius took a seat and gestured to the chair next to him. You wordlessly sat in it. It didn’t take Sirius long to become comfortable; he rested his feet on the table as he leaned back in his chair. You, being in a dress and heels, kept your feet on the ground, although they were outstretched in front of you and crossed at the ankles.
“Did you just… assume there was a room somewhere?” you asked.
“Every good host knows to have rooms where people can disappear to,” he said, throwing his head backwards to shake out his hair. And then he ran a hand through it. “And, believe it or not, the Ministry has to be a good host.”
“I think there are different definitions of good host, Black,” you said.
You were about to go into a tangent about how your parents locked the spare room and their bedroom for parties. If someone needed a lay down, they would have to find your parents or risk being found in the kid’s room. However, you didn’t feel like explaining about all the parties your parents hosted to another Black. Having done so with Regulus was enough and that was on a date. This was… survival? You were doing whatever you could to pass the time. You looked around the room and decided that staying on the bench might have been a better idea. At least then you’d have something to entertain you.
“What’s with the sour look?” Sirius asked.
You frowned. “Nothing to be entertained by in here.”
He laughed. “Babe, I’m right here!”
“Do not. Call me. Babe.”
“Ooh, struck a nerve, did I?”
You made to stand up but Sirius stuck his arm out, stopping you.
“Sorry. Won’t call you that again. Just trying to have fun.”
You rolled your eyes and adjusted in your seat.
“So tell me ‘bout yourself.”
“Why?”
“To make conversation with the lovely girl in front of me?”
You shot him a disbelieving look.
“To pass the time?” he offered.
“You could tell me about you instead. You love attention, don’t you? Love talking about yourself?”
Your voice was teasing but Sirius knew you meant to be insulting.
“Tell me about this date you went on with little ickle Reggie. I only get so much from the rumors that go ‘round the castle, you know.”
You gave a soft laugh with a shake of your head. This guy. You lightly scratched your forehead.
“Uh, sure. Fine. Whatever,” you mumble. “There were two, actually. Watched a quidditch match and then explored the Hogwarts wall.”
You paused and looked at Sirius. You were surprised to see that he was staring at you, rather than literally anywhere else in the room or out the windows. He doesn’t say anything, but he gave you a smile to encourage you to go on.
“Then we went to Hogsmeade together. And it was going fine. Went to the Hog’s Head and just talked. It was fine. Until blood status came up and he told me to get off my soap box because I’m a pureblood so obviously I can’t talk. And I had to correct him, because I’m not. And he got quiet. You could tell… I could tell it was going to be an issue so I paid and left.”
The room filled with quiet as you stopped talking.
“And then you got yourself a pretty little ring.”
You exhaled loudly through your nose.
“Yeah. I got myself a pretty little ring. Happy to know that about me?”
“It’s an interesting tidbit, that’s for sure. You know, I have a matching ring. Red for Gryffindor though.”
“Great, so I’ll throw mine into the Thames next change I get.”
Sirius cleared his throat. “You’ll throw Regulus’.”
“It’s mine now. I don’t give things back.”
“Then why bother throwing it?”
“Because you have a matching one.”
“It’s not like anyone would know.”
“I’d know and that’s enough.”
The room got quiet again. You swirled your drink round and round in your glass. You were nursing it because you knew the moment you finished it, you’d want to leave the room to get another. Leaving the room wasn’t really the bad part. It was the likelihood that Sirius would follow you out. You stared at your drink in between sips. Sirius really had picked a boring room.
Because you were so focused on your glass and refusing to look anywhere else, Sirius stared at you unnoticed. It was almost like back at school. Only this time, he had an advantage. He was close to you. He could see the freckles on your arms. He could see the few loose strands of hair that were falling from your updo. He could see the eyeshadow you had on for the party. He could see your lipstick fading a little bit more with every sip you took and every time you moistened your lips.
After a while, Sirius chuckled. A thought had occurred to him and he was about to share it with you.
“You know, I-” he started to say before the room’s door swung open.
Both of you turned to see who it was.
“There you are,” Regulus’ cold voice rang through the room. It wasn’t a yell but the emptiness of the room made it bolder than it really was.
Sirius groaned as his brother entered the room and took a seat a few chairs down from you.
“Tired of the Ministry elite?” Sirius asked, his voice suddenly colder compared to when he was talking to just you.
“Mum told me to keep an eye on you,” he answered monotonously. “Saw you come this way and you didn’t come back.”
“Mummy’s little pet, aren’t you?”
“Wait,” you said, sitting up straighter. You suddenly remembered hearing at some point that Sirius had run away over the summer. “Why are you even here?”
Your question was pointed at Sirius, but neither boy spoke.
“You’re living with the Potters now, aren’t you? Why the hell are you here?”
Regulus laughed. It was colder, harsher than you recalled.
“The dumbass forgot something in his room. He came back to get it and well, Mother has a way with persuasion.”
You looked from boy to boy. Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was probably the first time you saw him uncertain and almost squeamish. His body language wasn’t the confident boy you were becoming acquainted with, but he glared daggers at Regulus in an oh-so-familiar way. Regulus’ expression was slightly amused. You felt the need to break up the silence that was building between the boys.
“Something important enough to go back for, but not enough to have been packed the first time,” you said with no real purpose.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“What was it? I didn’t hear,” Regulus said. He sounded so casual in comparison to Sirius.
“It… it doesn’t matter. I have it now and once we leave, I’m going back to the Potters.”
The room filled with thick silence again. You returned your gaze to your cup. With a Black brother on each side, you felt like you were sitting in the middle of a war zone. You only sort of knew what the war was about, which made it all that much worse. How do you defuse a bomb when you only know one of the wires?
You’re not sure how much time passes between the last time anyone spoke and when you finish your glass. When you place it on the table in front of you, Regulus stands up and gives Sirius a stoic look.
“We better find Mother and Father.” A trained formality took over his way of speaking, as if preparing to talk to the adults again rather than peers. “Then you can go back to your family.” Bitter venom dripped off the last word.
Sirius nodded and stood up. He followed Regulus out of the room and you were left alone in the room. You sighed. But then the door opened again.
“I thought you were leaving?” you said, looking up at Sirius as he walked back into the room.
He closed the door behind with extreme care to ensure that it didn’t make any noise.
“Regulus doesn’t know you stopped following him, does he?”
“There’s something I need to say first.”
He had thought about it. He wasn’t going to say what he had intended when Regulus joined them without invitation. He needed you to know something else.
“Okay, so say it,” you said, waving your hand in the air to say ‘go on, get it out.’
“I really do think you’re pretty. And you probably are better than me, earning that ego of yours. And that takes a lot for a person to do. But you did get immediately between the seventh year and the Hufflepuff. You did it before anyone else really knew what was going on. I didn’t know that you were the one Regulus liked right away, but once I did, I started to look for what he saw in you. And I found it. I see it. And that’s why I can’t leave just yet.”
Your eyes went wide as he approached you and put a hand under your chin. Then he leaned down to kiss you. It was sweet. Soft. Momentary. Then he straightened and headed back toward the door. He opened it and paused, looking back at you.
“Think about me,” he said before leaving to find Regulus and his parents.
You just sat there. A dumbfounded look was etched into your features at what had just happened. You needed to process it. You didn’t understand how you went from two dates with Regulus months ago to a kiss with Sirius. You thought about what Sirius had said. That he looked for what Regulus saw in you and then he found it. So they had talked about you, or at least about a girl Regulus liked, and then Sirius put two and two together. You also wanted to know what he left behind and went back for, and what their mother had said to Sirius to persuade him to attend this event with them.
tags: @nsr-15, @kabekusa, @made-for-oliverwood, @sunflowerscloudydays, @salvatt1, @sammyreid, @ravisinghs-wife, @petrificustottally
Hit the point where I need a masterlist for the series - woot woot
#marauders#marauders fic#marauder-misprint#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black fluff
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Beyond the Fear~Jude Bellingham
Plot: you and Jude fight because he wants a child but you don't feel ready
wearing: angst, sweet ending
You are in the small park next to the apartment complex where you live, where the afternoon sun filters through the branches of the trees, creating bright spots on the grassy ground. The children run and laugh around you, their energy is contagious. You enjoy spending time with them, organizing little games, telling stories or helping them with their homework. It is a moment of lightness, of pure carefreeness.
Jude, your boyfriend,watches you from a distance. It is not unusual for him to do so. He often leans on the fence of the park or sits on a bench a few meters away. You recognize him immediately.
"You always stay here, huh?" he says one day, leaning in with a smile that tries to hide something deeper.
"I like being with them," you say, pointing to the group of children playing hide and seek. "They're so full of life."
Jude nods slowly, but his gaze doesn't move from you. It's intense, almost piercing. You feel the weight of his eyes on your face, on your hands as they fix a little girl's braid.
"You're incredible with them,"he murmurs at one point. His voice is low, almost a whisper, but loud enough to reach your ear."You know... sometimes I think about what it would be like to have a child of our own."
His statement takes you by surprise. You turn to him, trying to read the enigmatic smile on his face. "A child, huh?" You ask with a light laugh. *"Don't you feel like you're rushing a little?"
*But Jude doesn't laugh. He takes a step closer, letting the silence between you thicken. "I'm not kidding," he says with a sincerity that both makes you uncomfortable and intrigued."Every time I see you with them... I can't get the idea out of my head of what you'd be like as a mother. Perfect, I'd say."
You blush, looking down. "It's a nice thought, but... it's not the right time."
"When will it be, then?" he insists, gently taking your hand. His touch is warm, reassuring, but you sense a sort of hidden urgency.
His fingers trace small circles on your palm, a silent, insistent request for your acquiescence.*
"Jude..." you hesitate, looking up. Your eyes meet his intense look. "We've only been together a few months...it's too early to think about such serious things."
*He nods, but there's a stubborn stubbornness to his expression. "I don't believe in fate, destiny, or crap like that." He says, a little harshly. "But from the moment I saw you, I was sure of one thing: you were made for me."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. You've heard them before, in small declarations of love and passionate embraces. But this time it's different.
Jude's fingers tighten around yours, almost anxiously. "There's something about you, something that makes me feel..." he struggles to find the words. "I don't just feel attracted to you because you're beautiful, or funny, or intelligent. It's like I've known you all my life. Like in my soul, deeper than I can put into words, I know you're the one."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. You've heard them before, in small declarations of love and passionate embraces. But this time it's different.
Jude's fingers tighten around yours, almost anxiously. "There's something about you, something that makes me feel..." he struggles to find the words. "I don't just feel attracted to you because you're beautiful, or funny, or intelligent. It's like I've known you all my life. Like in my soul, deeper than I can put into words, I know you're the one."
His grip on your hand becomes almost painful. "I want to share everything with you. I dream of going through life together. Of having adventures, of loving you till we're 80, of having children... I know it sounds silly but... I can't see myself with anyone but you."
You look at him, torn between surprise and affection. He's so vulnerable here, so different from the usual self-assured man you know.
"I... I don't know what to say," you stutter, trying to order your chaotic thoughts. "I love you, too... But what we have now is so good... Why must we rush into things?"
His eyes narrow, as if your answer is not what he expected. He runs a hand over his face, frustrated. "I'm rushing? It's been months, darling. We're not getting any younger. Life is short. I don't want to waste a instant."
Your heart beats faster, not just because of his intense gaze, but also due to his words. His insistence on the concept of time makes you uncomfortable, you feel pushed into a choice.
"I understand that you want these things, believe me. But we're still figuring each other out. We should enjoy this phase of our relationship..." you try to reason, but Jude interrupts you, his voice a little more urgent than before.
"What do you mean 'figure us out'? I feel like I know you better than myself! What more should we know?"
You take a small step back, overwhelmed by his persistence. You'd hoped that this talk would end with a laugh, in a warm hug. Instead, it's becoming an argument, something you didn't expect.
"There are so many things we don't know about each other," you explain, your voice wavering a bit. "We haven't gone on any significant trips, we haven't met our parents, we haven't faced any serious problems... these are all fundamental things, Jude."
A small shadow of annoyance passes over his face, making his features harden.
"What are you implying? That our relationship is not serious because we haven't done all these things? That it's all just an illusion?"
You shake your head, trying to find the right words to express what you feel. "No, no, I'm not saying that at all. I'm just trying to be realistic. We can't make big decisions if we haven't experienced many things together."
"I don't know, I don't know..." you say, frustrated and a little scared.".We both know it's not just about time. It's a feeling, it's an intuition."
Jude makes a small sound, almost like a scoff.
"This isn't about your damn intuition," he says, a hint of anger finally breaking through. "I want a life with you, I want to wake up next to you every morning... Is it so hard to understand?"
You shake your head, feeling tears stinging your eyelids. This conversation is taking a direction you weren't expecting, and it's hurting you.
"Of course, it's not hard to understand. I want those things too, but..."
He suddenly grabs your shoulders, almost shaking you. "But what, huh? What is holding you back from making a commitment?"
"It's not that I don't want to make a commitment," you try to explain, your voice choked with sobs. "I love you, you know that. But committing to a life together...it's a huge deal."
He lets out a breath that sounds like a strangled laugh, and releases your shoulders, taking a step back.
"I see. Commitment must come when you're ready, huh? The right time, the perfect set of circumstances..." he says, his voice full of sarcasm.
His words cut deep. You feel accused but don't understand why.
"Jude, that's not what I'm saying..."
But he silences you, his gaze burning with frustration and disappointment.
"Isn't it?" he asks bitterly. "You want to keep playing this game until everything is perfectly aligned, until it's too late. But life doesn't work like that."
You feel a sense of panic, like things are spiraling out of control.
"Please, stop... This is not how I wanted this conversation to go." You take hold of his forearms, your fingers wrapping around his tense muscles. But he doesn't soften.
"How would you want it to go, then? Would you like me to wait until we're old and gray?" Jude says, his sarcastic tone like a blade in your heart.
you look at him trying to make him see reason "Jude we are only twenty-one years old"
He looks at you with a mix of disbelief and anger.
"Twenty-one is not that young, darling," he retorts through gritted teeth. "Many people have families at our age. Hell, some get married at eighteen !"
You let go of his arms, taking a small step back. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, but you try to keep your voice steady.
"But most people wait. Just because some others go through these steps early doesn't mean we have to do the same."
He lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"So what, we'll just wait and wait and wait some more... just because most people do?"
His tone is harsh, like he's expecting a specific answer that you can't give him.
"I... I don't know..." you stutter, overwhelmed by the force of his insistence.
He takes a step forward, closing the small distance between you. "Exactly. You don't know. You have no idea when you'll feel ready, and you have no idea how much time you're asking me to waste."
His words cut deep. They make you feel like a fool, like a coward who's afraid to make decisions. But you try to keep control, even though your vision is starting to blur from the tears you're holding back.
"I'm not asking you to waste anything... I just want..."
He cuts you off with a sharp laugh. "You want... what, exactly? Do you even know what you want?"
The question hangs in the air like a heavy cloud, and you struggle to find an answer. In a way he's right.
"Of course, I...I want a future with you," you start, trying to keep your voice from trembling.
"But I also want to enjoy being young, to do things we can't do once we have responsibilities, bills to pay, maybe a family..."
He looks at you, his gaze intense and critical.
"You think having a family would prevent you from enjoying life? Do you think having responsibilities would make everything impossible?"
There's a hint of hurt behind his anger, as if your words are twisting a knife in an open wound.
You take a deep breath, trying to make him understand what you feel."No, that's not what I'm saying. I know there will be beautiful aspects too, moments that will fill us with joy..."
He shakes his head, dismissing your words.
"But you're afraid. You're scared of the commitment, of the responsibility. Of giving up your freedom."
You shake your head fiercely, feeling like he doesn't understand you at all. The tears are ready to burst, like a dam about to break.
"I'm not scared of commitment. I love you more than anything! It's just... It's a big decision, can't you see? I'm not scared, I just need time."
He scoffs, his eyes narrowing. "Time. Always more time. But what if I don't want to give you time? What if I don't want to spend my youth waiting for you to make up your mind?"
His words sting like a knife, leaving you cold.
"So what, you're just going to give up on us because I want a little more time?" you ask, your voice choked with tears.
He doesn't respond right away, his gaze averted. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, a hint of regret in his tone.
"Is it really just a 'little' more time? Or another year, two years... or maybe five?"
You swallow hard, the reality of his words sinking in. It's true, you can't give him a definitive timeline. The thought of losing him fills you with fear, but the thought of rushing into something you're not ready for is equally scary.
"I don't know..." you whisper, fighting back tears. "I just wish you could understand."
He sighs, and his features soften a bit. "Understand what, darling? That you need to figure stuff out before committing to me? That I have to sit around and wait for you to make a choice? How do you expect me to be okay with that?"
The accusation stings, and your frustration begins to match his.
"I'm not impossible! I just need time."
He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"How much time? A month? Six months? A year?"
His insistence is exhausting, and you suddenly feel the need to defend yourself.
"Stop pushing me! I can't give you a damn timeline because I don't know how long it will take me to be ready!" you cry out, surprising even yourself with the volume of your voice.
His eyes widen at your outburst, clearly not expecting such a reaction from you. The silence that follows is tense, filled only by the sound of your heavy breathing.
He looks at you for what feels like an eternity, his expression a mixture of frustration and hurt, and then sighs, running a hand over his face.
"You know what? Forget it. We're going around in circles. It's pointless."
A pang of pain stabs your heart at his words. You feel abandoned, like he's giving up on you without even trying to understand.
"So that's it? You'll give up on us just like that?" You ask, your voice cracking with emotion.
His words cut deep, making you feel like a fool, like a child who doesn't know what they want.
"Is it so hard to wait?” You say, your voice trembling with tears.
He looks at you like you've said something stupid, and he snaps.
"Yes, damn it! It's hard! It's harder than anything I've ever done. Spending day after day, not knowing if you'll ever want to build a life with me. Wondering if I'm just wasting my time."
It breaks your heart to hear him express his fears like this, to realize how much this hurts him. You want to reach out to him, to hold him, to tell him it will be okay. But the words choke in your throat.
"I... I don't want to hurt you..." You whisper, your voice trembling with sobs.
He lets out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, they're filled with an intensity that makes your heart stutter.
"But you are hurting me. By not knowing what you want, by not giving me some kind of certainty. Do you even see a future with me?"
"sure baby" whispers softly
His expression softens slightly at your words, but his eyes remain searching, as if he's trying to understand more than just your answer.
"You say you see a future with me, but do you really? Are you sure I'm what you want? Because if I'm not, you need to be honest. I'm tired of being in this limbo, of waiting for you to make up your damn mind."
Your heart aches at the pleading in his voice, and you reach out a trembling hand towards him.His closeness, the certainty in his voice, it's so tempting to give in to his reassurance. But doubt still nags at you.
"But what if I can't figure it out?" You whisper, feeling like a failure."What if I'm stuck in this feeling forever?"His closeness, the certainty in his voice, it's so tempting to give in to his reassurance. But doubt still nags at you.
"But what if I can't figure it out?" You whisper, feeling like a failure."What if I'm stuck in this feeling forever?"
"Of course I see a future with you," you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion.'But I just.. I need a little more time to be absolutely sure."
Jude looks at your outstretched hand, his expression still edged with frustration.
"Time. Always more time. But how much is enough? How long until you're 'absolutely sure'?"
He looks at your outstretched hand, his expression still edged with frustration.
"Time. Always more time. But how much is enough? How long until you're 'absolutely sure'?"
You shake your head, feeling frustrated and helpless. It's true, you can't give him a timeline, but you want him to understand.
"I don't know..." you admit, your voice thick with guilt. "I just want to be sure, to be absolutely sure, that we're doing the right thing here. A life together, it's a big deal, it's a huge commitment..."
A hint of disbelief flashes in his eyes.
"You don't think I know that?" He asks, his voice rising slightly. "I know it's a huge commitment. And I'm ready for it, dammit, I've been ready for a while."
His intensity makes you shudder, but you try to steady yourself.
"I know you're ready. And I'm scared, okay? I'm scared that I won't be able to give you what you want, that I won't be enough."
Jude looks at you incredulously, surprised by your confession.
"You think you're not enough? Is that what this is about? You being scared you're not good enough for me?"
You nod, tears welling up in your eyes again. The fear of not being good enough, of not measuring up, has been at the back of your mind for a while now, but you've never voiced it.
He lets out a breath, his expression shifting from incredulous to something softer.
"Goddammit, darling, is that what you think?"
You nod again, unable to speak as the tears start to fall. The weight of your insecurities is suddenly too much to bear
He watches you for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and hurt.
"You really think I'd want to spend the rest of my life with someone who's not 'good enough'?"
You look down, unable to meet his gaze. Your insecurities are screaming that he deserves better, that you're not worthy of his love and commitment.
"I don't want to hold you back," you whisper, your voice barely audible."I don't want to be a burden."
He shakes his head, his expression becoming more intense.
"Hold me back? You're not a burden. Goddamnit, you have no idea the way I feel about you, do you?"
His words hit you hard, chipping away at the wall of insecurity you've built around yourself. But doubt still lingers in the back of your mind.
"What if… what if I can't give you what you want?" You ask, your voice trembling.
He takes a step closer, his gaze serious and determined.
"Babe, what I want is you. Just you. I don't care about anything else. And if you're scared you can't give me what you think I need, don't you think that's something we can talk about and figure out together?"
His closeness, the certainty in his voice, it's so tempting to give in to his reassurance. But doubt still nags at you.
"But what if I can't figure it out?" You whisper, feeling like a failure."What if I'm stuck in this feeling forever?"
He tilts your chin up, making you meet his gaze.
"Then we'll figure it out together. I'm not giving up on us, on you. We'll work through it, we'll find a way. I'm in this for the long haul, no matter what."
you smile sweetly and hug him with sweetness.He hugs you back, his arms wrapping tightly around you. His embrace is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, all your fears and doubts are drowned out by his presence.
He buries his face in your hair, his voice a low murmur. "I'm not going anywhere."
hearing his words you hug him tighter "I love you Jude"
He tightens his hold on you, his heart racing at your words. For a moment, he just holds you, basking in the sweetness of your declaration, before pulling back enough to look at you.
"I love you too, darling. More than you could ever know."
#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x you#judes hoe😚#football fanfic#football imagine#real madrid#judeswifey#jb5#football fluff#sexy footballers#hot footballers#english footballers#football x reader#footballer fanfic#footballer imagine#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#jb5 x reader#jude thoughts#jude x reader#jude speaks#jude fluff
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In summary, this memory was pretty good! It was so... SO MUCH. It immediately fried my brain half way through /@A@;;;;; It was insane. This memory (and the Unreturned Traveller) both left little to no room for any sort of imagination (,,>﹏<,,)
I may have some reservations about certain things with like pacing and such, but I get what they're going for (though at the same time I can't help but feel like they're also doing this spicy banner and heavy leaning on Xavier's jealous tendency in response to much of the vocal fandom really wanting it)
I won't say I love this card as much as the others but I see the appeal and still appreciate it~ I do still love the little moments in the cards and I'll put my trust with the writers still! (writers who are also fanfic authors, seriously... the wording they used during the kindled part just screams fanfic to me! 😂)
(ヘ・_・)ヘ┳━┳ into the Read-more it goes as usual! Fair warning. Long post is LONG (as per usual but at least it's not like branch story long lmao)
All in all this memory reaaaaally highlights a lot of Xavier's flaws, in a good way!
On one hand (i'm pretty sure this happened after 21 Days) now that Xavier has worked on expressing himself more with MC, he's letting the side that he's kept under wraps, out. This resulted with the Xavier we see in this memory. The insecurity, afraid that he'll lose MC-not because she'll die-but just losing out on any sort of time with her (maybe because he's also running on limited time???? angst potential????!), and his little more childish tendency to feel jealous.
He's just so baby 😭🥺 but also Xavier! You'll be okay! MC isn't going anywhere!!
For the first half of the date, I felt like there was some... unanswered questions? Maybe it's for us to figure it out. But I also felt that it was feeling a liiiiittle bit rushed?
Pretty much it seems the starting trigger for Xavier's jealousy began right in the first 3 minutes. Honestly felt that it could've been expanded on a little more, showcasing how it feels like MC would be snatched away from him 🤔 But since I'm sure there's a count to how long the dates should be, I guess they opted for this instead 「( • ヘ •) Which also still makes sense enough. But also just reminds me of the Tender Moment - Winter's Sun, where MC needs to go to a networking event and he's such a huge baby about it 😂
I think it's more than a little, MC X'DDD
This part though 🥺 The fact MC has given him access to their own place. And yet Xavier is still so proper about it. Such a gentleman uwu
MC had full faith and trust in Xavier. And Xavier, aware of it, but still would seek consent first. To which, after he has MC's consent, Xavier instead will make sure that MC knows it's him first. The care and thought in this 😭😭😭💖
HE'S LITERALLY PLAYING OUT THAT MEME I CAN'T EVEN 🤣
"You're the most jealous man I know" " You know other men?"
Ngl seeing this written where there's storm or dark clouds above Xavier's head is just funny because that's literally the vision 🤣 he's such an open book when it comes to MC
Him just wanting to hold onto MC at every opportunity even when people are around (/ω\)
First time meeting Charlie and Xavier was still polite enough... the 2nd time tho... 😂
Poor Charlie! Of all people he first meet, it had to be Xavier and inciting his jealous streak X'D and he's oblivious to it... goodness
The way MC be pushing his buttons to figure out her suspicions on his mood tho 😭 and then the way Xavier literally be pouting in his voice when he says if there's other neighbours in the future that'll do things with her is just... BABY 🥺
Xavier essentially just be slowly putting his walls down, being more indulgent in showing his feelings. And the way he asks MC to see if they are okay with it 🥺
He's just seeking out for MC's reassurance at this point
How many times has some sort of sweet fruit been mentioned whenever it's them getting intimate >w< But this guy just casually leaving MC hanging on the edge.... wow 👀 he definitely knows what he's doing
Same MC... Same... u-u
Honestly, yes 🤣 Like sir, you have centuries and loved reading and also has shown to know so much. A bit difficult to assume you HADN'T ALREADY heard of it before
But the lines right after that just had me like 🥺 Imagine the times he just sat there alone, gazing. Thinking about the things that had passed. About how uneventful or how his life lacked some sort of anchor. His only reason for continuing his days is finding a way to deal with Philos's core and bringing the Backtrackers home. Or maybe to go to Uluru... stuff like that
Ngl... this line from MC had me be like ??????? cuz it made no sense to me;;; Not sure if it's just me not getting it lol.
But I went to look up the CN version and it's (very, very roughly) more along the lines of "If there's no fire, nothing would explode even with a fuse".
Interestingly enough, Xavier seems to avoid answering it? It also happened later, when MC tried to understand Xavier's change. I wonder why he avoided it. out of ego? inability to admit it because it'll be embarrassing? he doesn't know how to put it in words?
Anyways
The fact they be having such a sweet intimate moment and Mr neighbour Charlie came busting in. The face Xavier has. He couldn't even contain his emotions 🤣 thankfully he didn't need to run for his life.
Xavier really be staring him down at the side there 🤣🤣🤣 And Xavier just... 😭 I can't even with this baby. Charlie please read the room there if you know what's good for you...!
The way he just casually lies about this like....! Xavier please 🤣 One can tell he's trying to find a way to subtly tell Charlie to leave them alone I guess but you can tell he's also just letting his temper get the better of him and it came out this way
Okay this part of the whole date was like one of the biggest point to me :C
The way he has worded "do you want me to go back to how I was before?" was very much in a way referencing to one of their things about "every version of them". And the way that line was worded also reeked of Xavier's uncertainty. He was worried there. Was it too much? Is it going to end up driving MC away from him? MC of course did their best to try and ease his worry. It wasn't so much MC wanting Xavier to be how he was before but they just want to understand him more.
And the way Xavier just turns around and proceeds to take it out on the tree instead 😭😭😭😭 Xavier the tree is innocent...! That aside, he's definitely struggling to figure his own feelings out but that childish temper just pretty much got into his head so much that he couldn't keep his usual more level-headedness.
Also MC, did you really HAVE to kick him on his ass just to get his attention? 🤣 Man's angy enough and that definitely cranked his angy up to a 110
The way Xavier nuzzles saying he doesn't know (what else to suggest to help him calm down) was 🥺 he was needy and desperate at that point and he really didn't know how to deal with his emotion like... UGH muh heart
And MC THE INSTIGATOR...! The real freak fr 🤣😭 setting him off to go down the spicy route 😏 of course he's gonna respond in kind
MC gripping and stroking his chin like this 😩
and now that he knows he's allow to... man... MC just unleashed his desire
Him just smirking the rest of the way through.... asdfghjkl
LIKE HELP PLEASE (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)
The insane animation and voice acting for these round of cards was.... inasne... even the EN side has upped their game!
The kindled wasn't too long but boy did it show SO MUCH. AND THE SPICINESS WASN'T JUST IN THE KINDLED LIKE ASDFGHJKL
IT WENT BEYOND
And so much longer than I ever thought. Like after a short fade to black was the usual, so I was expecting that but OH NO NOT THIS TIME LIKE... WRITERS PLEASE ( //>///<//) MY SANITY WAS NOT ABLE TO TANK THAT
the devs making full use of their blended animation state machine with the spicy after-kindled scenario was insane. It's like on a whole new level of expressing their emotion. And the sweat...?! THE SWEAT! the heavy breathing too like... (๑/////๑ " )
You can't tell me this isn't totally a line used so much in fanfics LMAO
🥺 This. When he said "Don't go..." also screamed to me that he was afraid. He still was. The fleeting moments his has with MC, he was scared it'll just disappear
🥺🥺😭😭😭
ASDFGHJKL when this part came up I had to freak the heck out 🤣 jumpscared fr
JUST HOW MUCH WERE THEY GOING AT IT FOR?! 😭 like rabbits??
And him admitting that he's afraid, although indirectly (also sir, you're not answering the question again T^T)
And the way MC says "I know" here. It says so much about how they understand each other more than themselves at this point like 😭
MC reassuring Xavier after this as well, to make sure he understands and knows that he's not alone, and he won't be 🥺
I... what do I even say about this இ௰இ I'm sure there's something to say but brain not braining
And the return of their little domestic moments uwu💖
This had me cackling 🤣 One can never be too careful when Xavier's in the kitchen
And more little things to signify them as a pair. Filling their homes with pieces of each other
And Xavier putting the words he couldn't say into a card like... 😭💖
Him being surprised at himself for how much feelings he has held and how much more there still is. And despite all that he makes sure to ask MC if they'd be okay with it. Xavier always checking in on MC is just precious. 🥺 ensuring they're both on the same page. Be it about work, about the progress of their relationship. It's always about that. Being together and in the same step.
I previously had some reservations about how this memory was resolved but looking back at it again, Xavier's trying to show it in his own way and MC understood and also responded in a way that it's on the same page as him. Alongside with a small little banter to end it uwu
I can't wait to see how their relationship develops further. If and when Xavier grows to be more secure and knowing that MC won't leave him. I can imagine him being a lot more of a menace than he already is. Even if he gets a little jealous, he won't be insecure about it anymore and just kinda does his lil pouty baby act on purpose. That kind of thing! This might just be my own preference speaking but... yea •ᴗ•
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DAI Update
I haven't forgotten Tav's BG3 playthrough (I have the pictures put together, just need to assemble the posts), but now that I've gotten through the first Solas romance scene, I felt the need to share some DAI screenshots to mark my progress.
This is Adahla Lavellan, electricity/spirit mage. She likes history and religious study and puzzles and, much to my chagrin, Solas.
She's got the vallaslin of Dirthamen (secrets, knowledge) and a hunger to understand the roots of major historical & legendary events. I'm still learning her as I play, but so far I know she's very self-assured and has almost no regrets; once she commits to a path, she lets go of wondering what else might have been and completely focuses on the decisions still ahead.
I've been trying to lean into the spy stuff mentioned in the prologue & in her codex. I know she was a foundling left with the clan at birth by non-elves, and she has a fascination with other cultures and especially with the various theologies scattered across Thedas. (I'm pretty sure she devoured every Genitivi text she could find growing up.)
While she does worship the elven gods, she doesn't disbelieve in any of the others; rather, she's deeply curious about finding ways where the elvhenan tradition and Andrastian tradition can both be true, or where the legends of the Old Gods and Tyrdda Bright-Axe might have overlapped at their religious root.
Her familiarity with these cultures made her the most suitable to represent the Lavellan clan at the Conclave. The mark is more of an exciting mystery to her than a painful burden, and though she does believe in the diplomatic efforts of the Inquisition and is firmly comfortable in her place leading the charge against Corypheus (since he wants to kill specifically her), she's secretly most invested in the Inquisition's acquisition of ancient texts, access to libraries, and uncovering of secrets. For her, "Inquisitor" is a decidedly literal title.
Romance stuff under the cut.
I was very unsure of how the Solas romance would go with a character like her. As @silksieve said, I'm coming at the romance from the wrong end; I already know who Solas is and yet know literally zero of the romance structure. I needed to create a character who could survive a heartbreak, and I think I've done that, but I'm fascinated to see how the intermediary beats shake out.
However, the romance ended up sparking naturally due to lovely happenstance. I've been keeping Solas in the party almost constantly so I can learn to like him, which meant he was present as I worked through all the astrariums and ocularums in the Hinterlands, the Storm Coast, and most of the Emerald Graves. (Yes, even here, I'm still a completionist.) This led to a nice bit of headcanon that Adahla & Solas worked through a lot of the star puzzles together, which meant that later in the Graves, when I stumbled upon one without Solas in the party, Adahla & I both had a moment of seriously missing him and wishing he was there.
It felt natural, therefore, to examine (logically and methodically) why she was missing him so much, and after bringing him a copy of the unsolved map so she could watch him solve it and judge the number of tries it took him, I think she realized she was growing interested in more than his stories of Fade wanderings and legends out of time.
Considering this whole relationship started with him being grabby and rude while she felt like death, I'm amazed they've gotten this far. She may not have always liked him, but she has always respected him, and I the player was surprised at how smooth the change in her opinion felt.
Also as a player, I'm still a bit unsure of Solas myself. I like the deep wealth of history and knowledge he provides, but there's a...a sort of rigid pride to him that I personally still find off-putting. As I mentioned on stream, I'm going to need to see some chinks in the armor to really buy into the romance in any major way. Plus, he's just so...blandly designed! I dunno. Bald, beige, and a boring dresser? I know this is a me thing, but dang, seeing the concept art with dreads...well, a girl can dream.
Adahla, however, is having a great time. Once she decides on something, she commits with her whole heart, and now that he's admitted to being thrown off-balance during the Fade scene, she's made it her mission to keep him on that back foot as long as possible. I again have no idea how the romance plays out, and please God don't spoil me, but she & I are both hopeful that she'll keep him guessing through the end.
In terms of gameplay, I've about finished the Hinterlands, the Storm Coast, the Emerald Graves, and the Forbidden Oasis. I plan to do Wicked Eyes & Wicked Hearts (or whatever it's called) next, followed by Crestwood, and then will keep working through the maps one by one. The level gating isn't quite as bad as I remember, though still annoying, and my few QoL mods have shaved off the worst of the gameplay irritants (thank you @bettydice!).
All in all, I'm having a really good time! Like I said, I'm still a little doubtful about Solas myself, but the character concept coming into shape for Adahla feels sound, and I think she's resilient enough to weather some of the revelations that Priory wasn't. I'm excited to keep going and find out! :)
Also, my girl, because I still love her best:
#quark plays dai#dragon age inquistion#dragon age#adahla lavellan#solas#oh my heavens i don't even know the ship name that's how divorced i've lived from solas#i think it's#solavellan#?
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 2024 fics in review ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
♡ thank you @rose-tinted-kalopsia for tagging me - you can view her post here ♡ i'm tagging @acciotaitlynn @nanamiscocksleeve @hesperisms @poisonf0rest + any writer who wants to join. and no pressure ofc 💕
Total number of fics: 16 Total word count: just under 82k
Chronological Breakdown:
April - ❄Cool Off * ✩Under The Stars May - ଳLove Don't Be Shy * ✩Xavier, Xavier, Xavier * ଳIridescent Scales June - ✩Passion Star Martini July - ✩My Everything August - ♪Ambrosia October - ❄Tight Spot * ଳBeneath The Abyss * ✩Velvet Night * ♪Possession * ❄Beneath The Collar * ❄ଳAmore Immortale♪✩ December - ♪Surrender❄ * ♪Return To You
Overall Thoughts:
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?
I didn't expect to write at all! I wrote some fics back in 2020 and 2021. After deleting them, I thought my writing days were over. But, Love and Deepspace resuscitated my love for writing.
What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?
Obviously, didn't expect to get attached to Love and Deepspace so much!
What’s your own favorite story of the year?
Beneath The Collar
Did you take any writing risks this year?
Writing Amore Immortale has my braincells working overtime, since it's supposed to be a slow burn that leads to polyamory.
Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?
To finish, or at least to be close to finishing Amore Immortale.
From my past year of writing, what was…
My best story of this year:
Beneath The Collar
My most popular story of this year:
Cool Off (2.8k notes) - i still don't understand why 😅 it's my very first fic for this fandom, and also the first fic after not writing smut for like three years. Ofc I'm grateful that people like it, but I cringe every time I remember the setting lol.
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:
Beneath The Collar. Honestly, I expected it to be the most popular or at least second most popular during Kinktober. But the people who did like it were very invested in the story, so that makes me happy. And @gattapotatta made this beautiful artwork inspired by it.
Most fun story to write:
Amore Immortale. That one is the balm for my soul.
Story with the single sexiest moment:
I have no idea omfg
Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:
I think that everything I wrote was pretty tame. But I guess personal sacrilege in Beneath The Collar can be considered wrong lol. And some people were apparently taken aback by the dvp moment in Surrender.
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:
None.
Hardest story to write:
Possession. I'm currently working on the sequel, and it continues to be the bane of my existence.
Biggest disappointment:
Xavier, Xavier, Xavier. For me, it's so bland, I almost didn't post it. Also, Tight Spot - Zayne is a little ooc there.
Biggest surprise:
Not to copy Roxie, but I'm so surprised by the love everyone has shown my fics! Without your support I'd probably just stop writing again.
Most unintentionally telling story:
There's the reoccurring theme in my fics where the Reader has run away to start a new life. 🤨
Highlights + Wrap-up:
I don't have that many fics to have 5 favorite opening, and closing lines. Or 5 favorite lines from anywhere. So I'll just write some randomly -
"Poor little bunny." - opening line in Amore Immortale, ch. 1.
He’s just a man now—just Zayne. - line from Beneath The Collar
Fic-writing goals for 2025:
Write more fluffy smut and more unhinged smut.
#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace
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happy DADWC Friday :) sending you “You were always on my mind.” for Fenhawke
Ty for the prompt!! I've been thinking about Fenhawke post DAV, and I think I'll put a little series of snippets from my thoughts into some Fenhawke prompts on Tumblr for @dadrunkwriting! This will be #1, and I'll link the rest (so feel free to send more Fenhawke prompts, folks!) Under a cut, because Veilguard spoilers. Vague, but still there.
Night had given way to the sharp edge of a winter dawn while Fenris sat in the chair beside the frost-painted window. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, but he hadn’t slept even a moment of the long, dark night. He could feel the circles under his eyes, the skin heavy, his vision blurry with exhaustion. Even as he blinked and scrubbed his face with a hand trembling from the abundance of coffee he’d consumed, the reason for his vigil stirred in the bed several feet away. Something unknotted in Fenris’s chest as Hawke stretched his arms over his head, curled one around the pillow that should have been Fenris’s, and pulled it closer. He buried his face in it, shoulders shifting with the inhalation of breath. Just as quickly, he saw those same muscles tense, stiffen, and then the pillow was shoved aside. Hawke shot up in bed, the blankets pooling at his waist, exposing so many scars across his torso. Some Fenris remembered. Others he thought were new, but he wasn’t ready to ask. Their eyes met and it was like Hawke had taken a punch to the gut; the air rushed out of his lungs and his shoulders slumped. A look of chagrin replaced the naked fear on his handsome face and he tried to fit a smile onto his lips. “You’re still here,” he said, taking another deep breath. He’d said the same thing the morning before, and the one prior to that. “Still here,” Fenris promised again, finally rising from his chair, stiff muscles protesting. He crossed to the bed and sat down on the edge, and they looked at one another. It still felt like a dream. It had been ten years since Fenris had received that letter in Kirkwall, since he’d burned Varric’s story into his mind. Hawke, the man he loved, left in the Fade. Left behind in the one place Fenris could not reach him. And then the Blight had come, and the world had been poisoned, and the Veil ripped asunder. He’d read another tale in a letter from the Inquisitor, about another death, and another prison in the Fade, and the woman who'd freed herself from it. The Inquisitor had borne a bone-deep regret for Hawke’s loss that may not have rivaled Fenris’s, but it drove them both to the same end; into the Fade, into Nightmare’s prison. Hawke reached out for him with one hand and Fenris took it, sighing with relief when he felt the mortal warmth enclose his fingers. The tightness in Hawke’s features smoothed as well at the contact. “Ten years,” Hawke murmured, blue-gray eyes searching his face. “It seemed like…days. Weeks maybe. In there. And yet after all this time, you remembered me.” Fenris squeezed his fingers. “You were always on my mind,” he promised, feeling an answering weight in his chest. “Every day.” Hawke nodded, eyes flicking to the window. The look on his face reminded Fenris of how he’d felt just after escaping Danarius—free but unsure what to do with it, unsure if it would last. It was why panic flooded Hawke when he woke, until they touched, and why Fenris couldn’t sleep. A need to make sure it was all still real.
#dragon age#fenhawke#fenris#hawke#male hawke#Fade prison stuff#Veilguard spoilers#post Dragon Age Veilguard
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